At twelve years old, Zhao Changyu’s fame had already spread throughout Yuzhou, and even the aristocratic families in Luoyang had heard of his talent. Many people wrote letters to the Earl of Shangcai, inviting his son to come to the capital for scholarly exchange.
At that time, the Earl of Shangcai was already ill, but after pondering the matter, he still summoned his eldest son and discussed with him: “You should make a trip to Luoyang and pay visits to some old acquaintances. It would be even better if you could arrange an audience with His Majesty.”
He coughed lightly twice and continued: “My health is failing, I fear heaven will not grant me many more years. If you have the support of old friends, you will be able to inherit the title more smoothly. This is the honor left by our ancestors—not for power or wealth, but to carry on our ancestors’ aspirations. In the future, the Zhao family will depend on you.”
The Earl of Shangcai instructed him, “The clan school must continue to operate. All clan children, regardless of gender, must begin their education after the age of seven. This is not to make them stand out above others, but to teach them propriety and a sense of shame.”
Zhao Changyu’s young face grew taut as he solemnly agreed.
The Earl of Shangcai continued: “If you have the opportunity to enter official service in the future, you must always remember the character and conduct of your grandfather and uncle. Do not tarnish their prestige and virtuous reputation.”
Zhao Changyu agreed to everything.
The Earl of Shangcai then sent him to Luoyang.
This trip lasted two years. Everyone in Luoyang came to know that a young man had emerged from Xiping in Runan—well-read with a prodigious memory, talented and elegant, the nephew of Xiahou Xuan who had been executed with his entire clan a few years prior.
Four years earlier, Xiahou Xuan had been killed. Although he was executed for the crime of treason, few in Luoyang dared mention his name, but many privately mourned him.
Xiahou Xuan had a forthright personality and was extremely intelligent, recognized as one of the four most brilliant minds in the country. He was also handsome, and many people sincerely admired and submitted to him from the bottom of their hearts.
Zhao Changyu took his uncle as his life’s model. He hoped to be like his uncle—making friends widely, intelligent and studious, and dashingly handsome.
Unfortunately, he easily achieved the latter two goals, but the first one…
Making friends widely required a lot of money.
Zhao Changyu’s family circumstances were ordinary, and he hadn’t brought much money on this trip to Luoyang. Visiting renowned teachers required preparing gifts, so he had to pinch pennies in other areas. As a result, he didn’t make very many friends.
However, he still gained much from these two years.
Seeing that the situation in Luoyang was becoming increasingly unstable, Zhao Changyu used the excuse of returning home to attend to his father’s illness and fled early.
Sure enough, right after he left, a major incident occurred in Luoyang.
On the day of jichu in the fifth month, the Emperor personally led the palace guards and palace servants out of the palace to restore order, but was killed by Jia Chong and Cheng Ji outside the palace gates.
At that time, Zhao Changyu had only recently returned to Xiping.
When his father heard that the Emperor had been killed in the street, he coughed up blood in anger but dared not cry out loud. He merely gripped Zhao Changyu’s hand with tears in his eyes: “The heavens are changing, the heavens are changing. The Sima clan acts against all reason—I fear they won’t be able to command the people’s trust. From now on, who knows what chaos this world will fall into. You, you must be careful and prudent. After I die, you should close your doors, stay home and study—don’t enter official service.”
Zhao Changyu was only fourteen that year, at the age of great ambition and extremely high expectations for his own abilities. How could he possibly follow his father’s dying words?
He believed that even if the country split into pieces like it did at the end of the Han dynasty, he could reunite the forces under heaven like Duke Cao had done. Moreover, the situation wasn’t nearly that dire yet, so he was certain he could assist the new emperor in stabilizing the realm and consolidating the imperial authority.
It didn’t matter whether the new emperor’s surname was Cao or Sima.
Before long, Sima Zhao installed a new emperor. The country’s surname was still Cao, but both father and son of the Zhao family knew that it was only a matter of time before the Sima clan usurped the throne.
They had already killed the emperor in the street—would they really return state power to the Cao family?
Even thinking with one’s toes, one knew this was impossible.
The Earl of Shangcai passed away harboring worries about the country’s future, heartache for the common people, and concerns for his family. Before his death, he dispersed all his family’s wealth. Aside from a two-courtyard old residence and the family’s farmland, all other assets were used to purchase sacrificial fields to establish the clan school. The only two shops were also handed over to the family, to be operated or rented out by the clan, with the proceeds likewise invested in the clan school.
He had lived a clean and honest life and didn’t have much money. The remaining funds were distributed to the poor households nearby. After leaving instructions for a simple funeral, he passed away.
Having dispersed the family wealth, he could indeed only have a simple funeral.
Zhao Changyu packed up the daily items his father had used and had them buried with him. Besides these, there were only some manuscripts and calligraphy works. After making backup copies, he put the ones he didn’t particularly like into the tomb as burial goods, keeping the ones he liked as mementos.
In his words: “Seeing objects reminds us of the person. When we miss Father, we can read through these at any time and remember him constantly.”
No one doubted his words or objected to him keeping most of the manuscripts and calligraphy.
Zhao Zhongyu, barely over ten years old, went to the study every day after his father’s death and cried while holding his father’s manuscripts.
By comparison, Zhao Changyu had no time to grieve, because his father had dispersed all the family wealth. He needed to worry about making a living, otherwise the household couldn’t even pay the servants’ monthly wages.
Moreover, after his father’s burial, there would be the seventh-day ceremony and the hundredth-day ceremony. Even done frugally, these required money.
His younger brother wasn’t clever enough. If he only studied at the clan school, he probably wouldn’t have much of a future. Zhao Changyu needed to find renowned teachers for him.
The fifteen-year-old Zhao Changyu only grieved for a few days before rolling up his sleeves and going into the fields with the household servants and tenant farmers to harvest wheat. By the time the wheat was harvested and dried, he had also gathered information about grain prices from various regions.
He immediately selected a dozen strong and sturdy men from among the tenant farmers, picked out several servants who could read and do arithmetic, loaded up the newly harvested grain from his household, and made a circuit around the village. Relying on his father’s good reputation and his own eloquence, he successfully obtained twelve cartloads of wheat on credit.
He learned that the county office would be escorting a batch of grain to the garrison in a few days. He went to the county office, made a round of visits, and negotiated with the registrar to have his merchant convoy follow behind the county office’s grain convoy.
For his first merchant convoy, Zhao Changyu personally accompanied it. When they delivered the grain to a county where grain prices had soared due to drought, his grain sold out in less than three days. He didn’t immediately return but instead had people go to the neighboring county to purchase silk and the cloth and silk fabric left over from the previous year’s imperial tax collection.
He made a circuit around the county and really couldn’t resist—he spent all the money he had on buying land and a shop. He left behind a servant, selected good tenant farmers, signed the agreements, and only then returned with the purchased silk and cloth.
Just like this, going in and out, his ready cash didn’t increase, but he acquired quite a bit of property.
The village didn’t raise enough silkworms, but there were many weavers. He either sold the silk to them or used it to offset what they owed for wheat. He sold the high-quality silk fabrics, and used the ordinary ones to exchange with them for their imperial tax payments.
In this way, Zhao Changyu slowly accumulated some money.
He very much enjoyed the feeling of doing business. Combined with his thriftiness, during the three years of mourning, the family assets increased several-fold. At the very least, he was no longer strapped for cash.
However, after completing his mourning period and removing the mourning garments, he was recruited by the court.