"More good news?"
Liu Hong's eyes lit up instantly.
"Bring it here—quickly."
Zhang Rang stepped forward, received the document, and presented it with both hands.
Liu Hong unfolded it.
A moment later—
His face broke into a wide smile.
"Huangfu Song has crushed the rebels at Chencang—over ten thousand slain. The enemy is routed and fleeing!"
"Good! Excellent!"
The weight on his chest seemed to vanish at once.
After such a devastating defeat, the rebel forces would need at least three to five years to recover—if they could recover at all.
"Prepare the rewards," he said, waving a hand.
Then, leaning back on the dragon throne, he fell into thought.
"Once Zhang Xin pacifies Qingzhou… should I send him to assist Huangfu Song in Liangzhou?"
He frowned slightly.
"Zhang Xin rose from the Yellow Turbans… will the two even get along?"
"Or perhaps… let Zhang Xin campaign alone?"
Before he could decide, his stomach growled.
He glanced at the sky outside the hall and stood.
"Court is dismissed."
—
"Your Majesty, we respectfully take our leave."
The officials bowed in unison.
Both Zhang Xin and Huangfu Song had submitted only brief reports—concise summaries of results, without details. Such dispatches were meant for speed, not depth.
As for the full accounts—who did what, which officers earned merit, what truly happened on the battlefield—
Those would come later.
Rewarding merit was no small matter. It required time, scrutiny, and careful balance.
—
Back in the inner palace, Liu Hong was in high spirits.
After his meal, Zhang Rang asked with a smile,
"Your Majesty, will you visit the Imperial Stud today to inspect the horseshoeing?"
"Not today."
Liu Hong waved him off.
"Prepare the carriage. We're going to the West Garden."
For days, pressure had weighed on him—rebellions in the west, unrest in Qingzhou.
Now, with victories rolling in, that tension melted away.
Which meant—
It was time to indulge.
—
Disguised as a merchant, Liu Hong spent the afternoon in the West Garden, playing games and flirting with the palace women.
By nightfall, indulgence turned excessive.
One after another—
Wine, laughter, bodies entwined.
Only when he was utterly drained did he collapse into sleep, satisfied.
—
"What?! His Majesty went to the West Garden again?!"
When Empress He heard the news, her fury erupted.
"For a moment I thought he had changed—obsessed with horseshoes and all that nonsense…"
She clenched her fists.
"A leopard never changes its spots!"
The more she thought about it, the angrier she became.
"He would rather repair horseshoes than come to me?!"
"Am I—Empress of the realm—less appealing than a horse's hoof?!"
—
The next morning—
Liu Hong woke feeling utterly exhausted.
"Zhang Rang! Zhang Rang!"
Zhang Rang hurried in, immediately lowering his gaze at the sight of the disheveled bed.
"What are Your Majesty's orders?"
"Summon a physician," Liu Hong muttered, rubbing his temples. "I'm… not feeling well."
Zhang Rang stiffened.
"Is it serious?"
Liu Hong gave a tired smile.
"Time spares no one…"
"In my youth, even nine times a night wasn't enough. Now… five or six, and I'm spent."
"Your Majesty is still mighty," Zhang Rang said quickly, though a trace of envy slipped through.
"Enough flattery. Just bring the physician."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
—
A few days later—
The full report on Zhang Xin's campaign in Qingzhou arrived in Luoyang.
Though pale and fatigued, Liu Hong insisted on reading every word.
Soon after, imperial edicts were issued.
Zhang Xin was granted an additional 3,000 households—restoring his fief to 5,000.
His title of Marquis of Xuanwei remained, but his fief was relocated to Pingyuan.
A rare act of generosity.
Previously, Zhang Xin's lands in Liangzhou had been effectively worthless—war-torn, barren, yielding no taxes at all.
Now?
With 5,000 households, the annual poll taxes alone amounted to roughly 1.7 million coins.
When Zhang Xin calculated it—
He nearly wept.
At last—
Real income.
—
Promotions followed.
Yu Jin, Xu Huang, and others were elevated.
Xu He and Sima Ju became Assistant Generals.
Xiahou Lan was appointed Military Supervisor.
Yu Jin and Xu Huang were given independent commands.
Yue Jin, Zhu Ling, and others were promoted accordingly.
With official recognition secured, Sima Ju's faction finally relaxed.
—
Zhang Xin, however, moved quickly.
He reorganized the army—breaking up old cliques, redistributing officers among trusted commanders like Gao Shun, Zhang Liao, and Xu Huang.
Then he brought in Xiahou Lan to enforce strict discipline.
He had learned from history.
When Cao Cao showed too much leniency to the Qingzhou troops, they became unruly—looting even during critical battles, nearly costing him everything.
Zhang Xin would not repeat that mistake.
—
Two days later, in Linzi—
Two letters arrived.
The first was from Cai Yong.
He had followed Zhang Xin's advice—requesting leave under the pretense of repairing ancestral graves.
Now safely back in Chenliu, he wrote to report his safety—and inquire about Qingzhou.
Zhang Xin nodded.
"Good. The old man is safe—for now."
Then he opened the second letter.
His expression darkened.
"My elder brother… is ill?"