Linzi.
Zhang Xin convened the officials of the prefectural administration to discuss relocating the seat of government.
He had long intended to move Qingzhou's capital to Pingyuan.
From Pingyuan, Jizhou lay only thirty li to the west, and Yanzhou seventy li to the southwest. If they were to march against Dong Zhuo, departing from Pingyuan instead of Linzi would cut several hundred miles off the journey.
Those missing miles meant more than distance—they meant lighter burdens on soldiers, faster mobilization, and far less strain on supply lines.
Now that the Yellow Turbans in Qingzhou had been largely subdued and resettlement was nearing completion, it was time to act.
Before long, the officials assembled.
Zhang Xin sat at the head, Dian Wei standing guard beside him. Below were Xun You, Hua Xin, Sun Qian, Guo Yuan, Xi Lu, Ren Gu, Liu De, and other scholars recommended by Zheng Xuan, along with numerous local administrators.
As Zhang Xin raised the matter, he glanced across the hall and felt a quiet sense of satisfaction.
A hall full of talent—strategists and capable officials alike.
Seven years ago, he had been nothing but a refugee. Had Zhang Bao not treated his illness, he might already be bones beneath the grass—if anyone had even buried him at all.
Yet now, he was Governor of Qingzhou, General Who Guards the East, and a titled marquis.
When he proposed moving the capital to Pingyuan, the hall fell silent in shock.
Hua Xin was the first to speak.
"My lord, Linzi lies at the heart of Qingzhou and commands all directions. It was once the capital of Qi and has been developed for a thousand years. Its fortifications are strong."
"Pingyuan, though a commandery seat, is far inferior. It lies on the frontier and is not suited for governing the region."
"In times of chaos, placing the seat in Pingyuan was understandable. But now that Qingzhou is pacified, why abandon Linzi?"
Others quickly voiced agreement.
Even Xun You nodded.
Linzi's central position allowed equal reach across Qingzhou. Moving to Pingyuan in the northwest would weaken control over Beihai and Donglai in the east. Moreover, Linzi already had the infrastructure of a capital—relocating would mean borrowing facilities or rebuilding entirely, wasting manpower and resources.
Zhang Xin fell into thought.
If one ignored the threat of Dong Zhuo, Linzi was indeed the better choice.
"Perhaps… we don't relocate yet," he mused aloud. "We could instead establish military camps and granaries in Pingyuan. When needed, I can lead the army from there…"
Just then, the registrar Cui Yan hurried in.
"My lord, urgent news from Yu Jin of Beihai!"
"What is it?" Zhang Xin asked.
"Tao Qian has driven Yellow Turban remnants into neighboring territories, causing them to invade."
Zhang Xin's expression darkened as he took the report.
Yu Jin wrote that Tao Qian had subdued bandits like Zang Ba and Sun Guan, but then used them to push Yellow Turban remnants out of Xuzhou and into Mount Tai and Beihai. Now fifty thousand refugees had flooded into Beihai. Though Yu Jin had repelled them, many refused to leave. Old men, women, and children knelt at the border daily, begging to be taken in.
"What is this madness?!"
Zhang Xin slammed the table in fury.
"Is Tao Qian even fit to be a governor?!"
The hall erupted in outrage after reading the report.
They had only just finished dealing with their own massive influx—and now Tao Qian had dumped another fifty thousand on them?
Was Qingzhou a dumping ground?
Hua Xin, unable to tolerate such behavior, spoke sharply. "Tao Gongzu is utterly without conscience!"
Others joined in, condemning the act as selfish and despicable.
"Ji Gui," Zhang Xin called.
"I am here," Cui Yan replied.
"Take my staff and go to Tan County. Reprimand Tao Qian. Forbid him from driving refugees into neighboring lands."
As General Who Guards the East, Zhang Xin held authority over military affairs in both Qing and Xu provinces—Tao Qian was, in name, his subordinate.
"Yes, my lord!"
"When you see him, tell him this…" Zhang Xin proceeded to dictate a scathing message.
The officials exchanged uneasy looks.
"My lord… such words… are they appropriate?" Cui Yan asked hesitantly.
"Inappropriate?" Zhang Xin scoffed. "He endangers others for his own stability. He deserves worse!"
Growing angrier, Zhang Xin removed his sword and handed it to Cui Yan.
"Take this. If Tao Qian dares utter a word of defiance, execute him under military law!"
Cui Yan's eyes widened.
Execute a provincial governor?
…But technically, his lord did have that authority.
Holding the imperial staff, he could punish any official below a certain rank who disobeyed orders.
Zhang Xin looked at him. "Can you do it?"
Cui Yan straightened. "I will carry out your command!"
"Good. Repeat my words exactly—do not change a single word."
"Yes!"
Cui Yan bowed and departed.
After he left, Hua Xin asked, "What of the fifty thousand refugees in Beihai?"
Zhang Xin rubbed his temples.
"Tao Qian… truly a burden."
"How much land remains across the prefectures?"
"Very little," Hua Xin replied. "Altogether, perhaps three hundred thousand mu."
That was enough for only a few thousand households.
"Take them in," Zhang Xin decided after a pause. "There are still wastelands near Mount Tai and Donglai. Let them reclaim the land. Grant them two years of tax exemption."
Even barren land was better than none.
Xi Lu objected, "If we accept them, more refugees may come. Qingzhou cannot support them all."
The population had already exceeded four million—near its limit.
"Then issue orders to the border counties," Zhang Xin said. "Make it clear: Qingzhou can no longer accept refugees. Those who come will not be provided for."
He turned to Hua Xin. "Ziyu, handle this."
"Understood."
Just then—
Cui Yan rushed back in.
"My lord! A man outside claims to be an old acquaintance from Luoyang and requests that you meet him in person."