East of the River: Home of the Sun Clan sample (Act I) -- T. P. M. Thorne

“There is also the possibility that some court lackey or greedy eunuch might override this decision, and have one of their ‘friends’ appointed instead, in exchange for a favour, or a bribe… that’s not uncommon,” Sun Jian suggested. “I watch and listen, my lady, and the capital is a cutthroat place: Huangfu Song was a great hero, a man that was revered - as I sometimes am - for his successes in the Yellow Turban Rebellion, and he received even more rewards than I did; he was elevated to one of the highest military posts in the land, in fact. Yet one mistake - earning the ire of the eunuchs - reduced him from hero to disgraced pariah in one slanderous gesture. He may regain favour, he may not… I cannot say. But what I can say is that the same uncertainty hovers over my head, only more so, because I am not even a Huangfu Song… in the eyes of the court, I am-”
“I know… I know,” Lady Wu interrupted miserably. “You don’t need to say it.”
Sun Jian exhaled noisily and turned his gaze away from Lady Wu.
“You should go and plan your responses to this with Cheng Pu,” Lady Wu suggested. “I can’t help you, Husband, as much as I’d like to be able to.”
Sun Jian nodded tersely and departed from the house, leaving Lady Wu to wonder what the future held for her family.

“You seem troubled, Mister Sun,” Cheng Pu said as he welcomed Sun Jian into his home and had him take the host seat.
“Please, call me Wentai,” Sun Jian replied as he passed the recently-received letter to Cheng Pu, who started to read immediately. After a pause, Sun Jian smiled and added, “That’s the least you can do if you’re going to keep insisting on me taking the host seat in your own house. How are your family…?”
“Fine,” Cheng Pu replied as he studied the correspondence.
“…Good,” Sun Jian murmured.
Cheng Pu finished reading the letter, but he could only say “Oh.”
“We seem to agree,” Sun Jian chortled. “But you might perhaps elaborate on any ideas you have, Demou; I am torn, especially after the disaster in Liang.”

“If the messenger does come, accept it,” Cheng Pu suggested. “Even if you lost the role afterward to some toady, you’ll be a hero thrice over, and you can make your own fortune if the foolish northern court won’t reward you amply.”
Sun Jian nodded silently.
“Doubts…?” Cheng Pu prompted.
“…Naturally,” Sun Jian replied. “How many more times will I answer to this northern court, this den of corruption and ingratitude, and risk my life and the lives of my friends and countrymen to preserve their existence so thanklessly, as I have until now…?”
“I can’t answer that,” Cheng Pu sighed. “What I can say, though, is that I’d expect the messenger within days.”

A messenger did arrive several days later, and Sun Jian was officially told of his new role as Magistrate of Changsha. He hurried from his own office to the office where Cheng Pu worked to inform his friend of the confirmation.
“Well, congratulations, of course,” Cheng Pu said warmly. “You’ll be going to Changsha alone, or will you take your family with you…?”
Sun Jian’s elated expression froze and his eyes darted about as he pondered that previously unconsidered point.
“Stop grinning like that, it looks ridiculous when you’re obviously so distressed,” Cheng Pu teased.
Sun Jian’s smile faded, and as he turned his gaze to Cheng Pu, he tried to find the words to express how he felt, but settled instead on a discontented groan.

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