Han Qian returned to the residence at dusk and saw that his father, Han Daoxun, had already returned from Hongwen Hall. He walked over and told him about Marquis Xinchang Li Pu’s side recommending him for the position of Governor of Xuzhou.
“Governor of Xuzhou?” Han Daoxun looked at Han Qian with a puzzled expression, then clasped his hands behind his back and gazed toward the last brilliant rays of sunset gradually being swallowed by the dusk at the horizon.
Han Qian knew his father was perplexed by how decisively that side had made this decision.
Indeed, if it weren’t for his intricate entanglements with Wanhong Pavilion and Marquis Xinchang’s mansion, even if the “Memorial on Epidemic Waters” had played a significant role, before his father personally went over to pledge allegiance, it would have been impossible for them to hand over the Xuzhou governorship—something they would have to fight hard to secure—to his father. Nor would it have been possible for him, at such a young age, to independently command a division under the Dragon Sparrow General’s Mansion.
The Secret Bureau Left Division would not surface for the time being, but if Marquis Xinchang’s side used all their power to push his father into the position of Xuzhou Governor, then he and his father would officially bear the mark of the Third Prince.
Han Qian believed his father must have thought of this, so he changed the subject, saying: “Xuzhou has treacherous mountains and vicious waters, miasma everywhere, and complex local sentiments. If Father wishes to govern the place well, it will likely be quite difficult. Does Father already have any ideas?”
“You just told me this, not even half a cup of tea’s worth of time has passed—what ideas could I have?” Han Daoxun laughed. “If you want to change the subject, this isn’t the way to do it, is it?”
Han Qian scratched his head awkwardly and said: “Marquis Xinchang’s side has agreed, and they’ll push this matter extremely quickly—at least before Anning Palace comes to their senses, they’ll make this a done deal.”
Han Daoxun understood this as well, and thought to himself that when Anning Palace and the Crown Prince’s side came to their senses and connected this matter with his memorial at the New Year’s court assembly advocating the expulsion of famine refugees, as well as Marquis Linjiang’s intervention to settle the refugees and organize the Dragon Sparrow Army, the people of the realm would perhaps see him as the kind of petty person who would stop at nothing to seek fame and profit by attaching himself to the Third Prince.
“Alas,” Han Daoxun absolutely did not wish to be drawn into the succession struggle, but discovered he ultimately couldn’t escape it. He couldn’t help but let out a long sigh, then asked Han Qian: “Did Marquis Xinchang’s side not make any other demands?”
“No, they didn’t,” Han Qian said.
Han Qian knew that Marquis Xinchang’s side must certainly have expectations for Xuzhou, but Li Zhigao hadn’t mentioned them today, mainly because Xuzhou was too remote. For now, it could only be used as an idle piece in reserve, difficult to place too many expectations upon.
However, when Anning Palace and the Crown Prince’s side came to their senses, they might not think this way.
“The local gazetteer says that Xuzhou is seven parts mountains, two parts water, and one part farmland, with Miao and Yi tribes living intermixed, conflicts between locals and outsiders. The territory of three counties is even more vast than the capital region, but the registered population altogether doesn’t even equal that of a medium county in the capital region. For this father to accomplish anything there will not be easy,” Han Daoxun said.
Han Qian had only recently had the energy to study the situation of provinces and counties, and his image of Xuzhou was rather vague—he only knew it was a godforsaken miasmic barbarian land. But as for the specific circumstances, he was far less familiar than his father.
At this moment, Fan Xicheng and Zhao Kuo rushed in to report something.
Han Qian took the opportunity to change the subject and spoke with his father about arrangements for the Secret Bureau Left Division and the household guards: “His Highness has already permitted me to establish the Secret Bureau Left Division under the General’s Mansion. I plan to keep Fan Dahei, Lin Haizheng and the others in Jinling to help me, while Fan Xicheng, Zhao Kuo and the others will accompany Father to Xuzhou. Additionally, since Father will be serving in Xuzhou and we don’t know how many years you’ll be there, have Fan Xicheng and Zhao Kuo move their families there as well, to save them from being separated from their flesh and blood. This way, I can also free up more space here to accommodate the secret agents of the Left Division…”
Since Han Qian needed to split up the household guards and their children for different assignments, and would later need to rely on Fan Xicheng and Zhao Kuo to establish connections between Jinling and Xuzhou, the existence of the Secret Bureau Left Division couldn’t be completely hidden from them. He might as well lay some things out in the open first.
Han Daoxun didn’t immediately notice that Han Qian had calculated carefully in the distribution of household guards, and nodded in agreement.
When he took up his post in Xuzhou, most of the prefecture and county officials and subordinates would be appointed from local indigenous leaders. Some positions had been hereditary since the previous dynasty, and Emperor Tianyou had no intention of disrupting those traditions, which would destabilize Great Chu’s southwestern frontier.
Han Daoxun thought to himself that he did need trusted subordinates to help him with affairs, but he wasn’t taking a large group of people over. On the other hand, Han Qian was officially working for the Third Prince, and since the matters were dangerous, he needed more trustworthy people.
When Fan Xicheng and Zhao Kuo heard Han Qian’s words, they were rather dumbfounded. Apart from yesterday’s events happening too suddenly and unexpectedly, making them feel frightened even now when thinking back on it, the residence had been calm after the New Year. How had the master suddenly decided to serve in a local post, while the young master was to officially command a division for the Third Prince?
“…” Fan Xicheng and Zhao Kuo stood there stupefied for a moment, exchanging glances.
“You rushed back here—what matter did you need to discuss?” Han Qian asked.
“Han Jun’s side brought a group of men into Jinling from Chizhou just before nightfall, probably forty or fifty skilled fighters,” Fan Xicheng said.
He and Zhao Kuo had learned of this and felt somewhat panicked, fearing that another conflict would result in casualties. They had rushed back intending to discuss countermeasures with the master, thinking to persuade the young master Han Qian to restrain his temper when encountering such situations in the future. Otherwise, even without the old master around, their side was still far from qualified to contend with Han Daoming and Han Daochang’s two branches. But they hadn’t expected that upon rushing back, they would hear such news.
They suddenly realized that even though they had already seen enough surprises from the young master Han Qian during this period, they still seemed far from truly understanding him.
Not to mention Zhao Kuo—even Fan Xicheng couldn’t help but wonder: Was there any connection between the master taking up the post in Xuzhou and the young master being able to command a division under the Third Prince, and yesterday’s events?
“I already saw this when I came back with Lin Haizheng and Fan Dahei. This matter is nothing to worry about,” Han Qian paid no attention to this matter. Seeing that Lin Haizheng, Fan Dahei, and Zhao Wuji were standing in the courtyard, he said: “Prepare yourselves—you’ll accompany me to the estate in a while.”
Right now, the entire Marquis Linjiang’s mansion was busy with preparations for the grand wedding, with no rest even at night, but Han Qian had no mind to run over and join that bustle.
Since the Secret Bureau Left Division had already been authorized to start operations, they needed to seize every moment to spread out the organization as quickly as possible, so they might gain back even one more point of disadvantage.
At this moment, Zhao Ting’er peeked her head in from the corridor, perhaps to announce that the meal was ready. Seeing them discussing confidential matters, she was about to withdraw, but Han Qian called out to her: “Ting’er, you’ll also come with us to the estate tonight.”
“This late—why should Ting’er go too?” Zhao Ting’er’s rosy lips parted, her jet-black lustrous eyes staring blankly at Han Qian, thinking that the young master leaving the city at this hour must certainly have important business, but not knowing what he needed her to come along for.
“I’m not teaching you those subjects just to use you as a bed-warming maid,” Han Qian said.
Hearing Han Qian speak so improperly, Zhao Ting’er’s small face flushed bright red. Her beautiful eyes were about to glare back at him when she noticed the master and Fan Xicheng and Zhao Kuo all looking over with some surprise. Realizing she had been too abrupt and presumptuous, she stuck out her tongue and lowered her head, standing there without another word.
“The young master is already nineteen this year. Should the master send this old servant to Minister Wang’s household to arrange matters, and bring Minister Wang’s granddaughter back as a bride for the young master as soon as possible? Minister Wang’s granddaughter should be sixteen this year as well, shouldn’t she?” Fan Xicheng laughed heartily and asked Han Daoxun.
Zhao Ting’er was a servant girl in Han Qian’s quarters, and both were in the bloom of youth. If anything happened between them, Fan Xicheng and the others would find it perfectly normal. And if Zhao Ting’er were to bear children in the future, she would naturally become Han Qian’s concubine.
However, in this era, there was a prohibition against marriage between different social classes, and this wasn’t merely a matter of convention—it was clearly stipulated in court law. If Han Qian dared to marry beneath his station and someone reported it, he would be stripped of his official position.
At this moment, Fan Xicheng hadn’t yet realized that the master Han Daoxun’s appointment to a local post would be finalized quickly. He genuinely believed from the bottom of his heart that the master should settle the young master’s marriage before leaving Jinling.
Otherwise, with the young master serving under the Third Prince and the master serving in a local post, who knew when they’d be able to return to Jinling to preside over this matter—it might drag on indefinitely.
Wang Jixiong?
Hearing Fan Xicheng say this, Han Qian was slightly taken aback. He had never heard his father mention that he had a marriage betrothal with the granddaughter of former Minister Wang Jixiong.
Han Daoxun waved his hand, dismissing Fan Xicheng and the others first, then said to Han Qian: “Three years ago, when Minister Wang went to Guangling to arrange provisions, he mentioned that his second son had a daughter who was exceptionally intelligent, and jokingly said he would betroth her to you as a wife. Xicheng was present at the time. This matter was never brought up again afterward.”
Although the six betrothal gifts had not been exchanged, someone of Wang Jixiong’s stature would absolutely never joke about the marriage of younger generation members.
Han Qian had never met Minister Wang’s granddaughter, so naturally he felt neither longing nor disappointment. Smiling, he asked: “Did Father anger Wang Jixiong with the memorial advocating the expulsion of famine refugees at the New Year’s court assembly, and that’s why this marriage betrothal came to nothing?”
“It wasn’t quite like that,” Han Daoxun sighed lightly, feeling he had somewhat wronged Han Qian in this matter, and spoke frankly: “Just after bringing you to Jinling, Minister Wang did send someone over, wanting to urge the marriage to proceed, but this father saw that you were not accomplished and feared you would disappoint the young lady, so I declined the matter. Afterward, when this father memorialized advocating the expulsion of famine refugees, I probably truly angered Minister Wang—not even a single word has been sent since.”
“So you’re saying Father owes me a wife,” Han Qian said jokingly.
“You nonsensical scoundrel—what does this father owe you?” Han Daoxun discovered that without realizing it, he could no longer maintain a stern elder’s face before his son.
He now had not the slightest doubt about Han Qian’s learning and abilities. He only worried that his son’s thoughts were too cunning, that his aspirations weren’t focused on serving the world and helping the people, but were too fixated on scheming and calculation. But now wasn’t the time to worry about that. He waved his hand, telling him to eat his meal and return to the estate before nightfall to make arrangements.