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“So your fathers have been offered state offices… for money,” Zhang Miao said to Cao Cao and
Yuan Shao with disbelief. “What is this that the eunuchs are up to now…?”
The three were silent as they sipped from their wine dishes and lost
themselves in the splendour of the garden of Yuan Shao’s father’s capital
residence.
“This is too ridiculous for the eunuchs,” Cao Cao said eventually.
“Mister Kong tells me that it is the Dowager
this time,” Yuan Shao explained. “There’s a hole in the finances… the emperor
wants a new hunting park and there’s a whole army of embezzling officials to
account for too… selling public offices is a quick way of bringing in money. My
father worries that his own office might be given to some friend of the
eunuchs, such that he may be forced to buy his own job for some ridiculous fee,
after generations of loyal service…!”
“…But then their benefits of the income and such are lost to the buyer,”
Zhang Miao said with bemusement.
“As is any hope of those offices remaining professional or honest,” Cao
Cao scoffed. “My father may or may not accept the offer of ‘Minister of
Finance’… whether he tries to run it properly or not is irrelevant, since the
privateers will make it impossible to run it properly. He’ll be buried under a
sea of bribes and protection money within half a year. Qiao Xuan’s resigning
his office, because he’s fed up of it all; I hear that your father, adoptive
father or one of your other uncles might inherit the role of Excellency over
the Masses, Benchu.”
Yuan Shao nodded and said, “A small glimmer of light in the darkness, I
think, if an honest Yuan inherits that role instead of a crony of the eunuchs.
I ask you: between the eunuchs’ continued purge of anyone decent, and the
Dowager’s complete dismantling of the infrastructure for fast funds, will there
be a land left for us to save…? I cling to the hope that the sanity we intend
to bring is not to find itself late in coming… yet my despair grows, friends.”
“As does mine,” Cao Cao admitted. “You were right that I am safe for
now, but we’re in increasing danger, and the stakes raise every day… and all
because men will not learn.”
“Uh… Master, Mister Kong has arrived,” a servant announced.
“Ah!” Yuan Shao said with glee. “Bring him through, bring him through!”
“We should go and greet him, surely,” Zhang Miao suggested pointedly.
“Ah, yes, uh… quite,” Yuan Shao chuckled nervously. “Come, let us… go
and greet Mister Kong.”
As Yuan Shao led his friends back to the house, Zhang Miao muttered, “He
becomes more and more arrogant with every-”
“Hush, Mengzhuo,” Cao Cao whispered. “Whatever his faults, he means
well.”
Zhang Miao hummed apologetically.
Kong Rong - styled ‘Wenju’ - was a strong-featured, confident young man
in his twenties. He was a recognised descendant of the scholar and philosopher
Master Kong - Confucius - that most
Chinese people of the day looked to for moral and social guidance; Kong Rong
was also greatly admired by all as a man of talent in his own right. The three
young students - who were soon to be officials like Kong Rong - welcomed the
older man and escorted him to the garden to continue their private discussion.
“I’m surprised that an official of the court should find the time to
speak with us,” Zhang Miao admitted.
“You are all respected intellectuals and philanthropists, even though
you are yet to reach twenty, Zhang Mengzhuo,” Kong Rong replied graciously.
“You are all set to begin work as interns of some sort and learn about the
court, so there is nothing unusual in my speaking to you, I think.”
“We were discussing the sale of public offices,” Cao Cao reported.
“Mengde!” Yuan Shao scolded. “Mister Kong did not come here to discuss
that, so-”