Zhang Xin wiped away his tears.
"Rest assured, Attendant. I will immediately mobilize troops and march to defend the Emperor!"
"Heh… good, good."
Seeing his decisive response, Zhang Rang smiled in satisfaction.
Zhang Xin stepped forward to help him up. "I have been away from Luoyang for a long time. What is the situation there now? Does His Majesty have any further arrangements? Please enlighten me."
"His Majesty has already ordered Jian Shuo to execute He Jin…" Zhang Rang explained.
"I see." Zhang Xin nodded. "You've come a long way—please rest here. I'll have a physician treat your wounds."
"No need, no need!" Zhang Rang quickly refused. "Just have someone bring medicine. I can apply it myself."
As a eunuch, he was wary of exposing his condition. More importantly, having a private physician attend him under Zhang Xin's roof could be seen as overstepping boundaries—something that might bring unnecessary trouble.
Zhang Xin understood and did not press further. He helped Zhang Rang lie down.
"Then rest well. I'll arrange for medicine."
"Many thanks, Marquis of Champion," Zhang Rang said gratefully.
After leaving the courtyard, Zhang Xin ordered a guard to fetch medicine, then returned with Dian Wei to the main hall.
The officials immediately rose and bowed. "My lord."
Zhang Xin looked at Hua Xin.
"Ziyu, begin preparations at once to relocate the prefectural seat to Pingyuan."
Hua Xin was startled and was about to object—
Zhang Xin raised a hand to stop him.
"My decision is final. No further discussion."
"…Understood." Hua Xin reluctantly accepted.
Still, doubt lingered in his mind.
Just moments ago, Zhang Xin seemed to waver. Yet after meeting that "old acquaintance from Luoyang," he had suddenly become resolute.
Could it be… something had changed in the capital?
Others in the hall also seemed thoughtful.
Zhang Xin turned to Ren Gu.
"Zhao Xian."
"I am here," Ren Gu bowed.
"I intend to expand Pingyuan. You will oversee the conscription and coordination of laborers."
Ren Gu, a talented scholar from Le'an and a disciple of Zheng Xuan, was known for his integrity and organizational skill—an ideal choice for managing such a task.
"I will carry out your orders," Ren Gu replied.
Zhang Xin then addressed Guo Yuan.
"Zini, you will be responsible for planning the expansion. Draft a proposal as soon as possible."
Guo Yuan, skilled in civil administration, accepted without hesitation.
Next, Zhang Xin turned to Xun You.
"Military Advisor, you will oversee the escort and transport of the state's grain and funds."
"Understood," Xun You said, then asked, "Will you not accompany us to Pingyuan, my lord?"
"I will remain in Linzi for now and observe Tao Qian's actions."
If Tao Qian continued pushing refugees into Qingzhou, Zhang Xin would first have to stabilize the rear before marching. Otherwise, unrest at home would cripple morale at the front.
"I understand," Xun You nodded.
With that, Zhang Xin concluded, "Court dismissed."
At his command, the entire administration sprang into motion.
Relocating the provincial seat was no simple matter. Ceremonial objects, administrative equipment, and countless archives—all recorded on cumbersome bamboo slips—had to be sorted, transported, and reorganized.
Fortunately, with Hua Xin in charge, Zhang Xin could leave such details in capable hands.
When he returned to the courtyard, Zhang Rang had already applied the medicine and fallen asleep. Zhang Xin did not disturb him. Instead, he sat quietly and took out Liu Hong's secret edict, reading it once more.
He let out a long sigh.
I can never repay my elder brother's kindness…
Yet reality weighed heavily on him.
Historically, Liu Bian would ascend the throne just days after Liu Hong's death. From what Zhang Rang had revealed, it seemed unlikely that would change.
Jian Shuo alone could never kill He Jin.
If He Jin lived, then with the support of the court and the imperial guards, Liu Bian's succession would be unstoppable.
And once Liu Bian took the throne, Zhang Xin's position would become precarious.
Even with a secret edict, He Jin could simply denounce it as a forgery, have the new emperor brand Zhang Xin a traitor—and then it would come down to force.
Whoever held the stronger army would decide legitimacy.
But even if Zhang Xin seized Luoyang, he would face the same dilemma as Dong Zhuo:
Depose the emperor.
And this emperor would have to be deposed—otherwise, Liu Hong's edict supporting Liu Xie would be meaningless.
Yet Zhang Xin lacked the political foundation to do so.
In Luoyang, his authority had depended entirely on Liu Hong's backing. Without it, he was like a kite cut loose—adrift, without support.
To depose an emperor under such circumstances would be courting disaster.
The realm would unite not against Dong Zhuo—but against him.
Even if he eliminated rivals like Yuan Shao or Cao Cao in advance, the core problem remained.
Dong Zhuo had not fallen because of external enemies.
He had defeated them time and again.
His downfall came from within—resentment, betrayal, assassination.
Zhang Xin had no desire to live each day in fear of a dagger in the dark.
Better to wait.
Mobilizing troops, gathering supplies, and organizing labor would take time anyway.
If Liu Hong's arrangements succeeded—if Liu Xie ascended—then Zhang Xin would march to Luoyang and face the storm head-on.
That would be repaying his brother's kindness.
If history held, and Liu Bian took the throne, then Zhang Xin would remain in Pingyuan, build his strength, and prepare for the coming conflict with Dong Zhuo.
Charging blindly into Luoyang now would be suicide.
"Yes… this is the way."
He carefully put away the edict, stood, and looked toward Xuzhou.
"Tao Qian… you'd better not cause trouble for me at a time like this."