Chapter 45: The Lonely and the Young

Inside the camp, Zhao Yan sat in the seat of honor.

Wang Zhi had already removed the fine linen wrapping that disguised his left foot, but he still had to remain standing alongside the commandery commandant Fan Zheng, Zhao Ji, and Jia Tong.

Pei Xiu and Jia Kui sat on Zhao Yan's left and right respectively, recounting the events of the past few days.

Zhao Yan inquired from time to time, gaining full insight into the situation from beginning to end, then stroked his beard and sighed with emotion: "The country is in peril, yet men of loyalty and valor harbor the grand ambition to restore and support it. Truly, this is both rare and precious."

Pei Xiu asked, "In your estimation, now that Li Le has been executed, the likes of Yang Feng and Han Xian will inevitably internalize turmoil upon hearing the news. We intend to rally men of loyalty and righteousness, march south to escort and guard the Emperor, and exterminate all the villains. I wonder if you, sir, would be willing to step forward and persuade Cavalry Commandant Xu Huang on the northern bank to lead his forces in upholding this righteous cause together?"

"I have met this Gongming a few times myself, and judging by his conduct, he is also a man of loyalty and honor. Now that there is a secret imperial edict from the Emperor, how could I fear the toil of travel?"

Zhao Yan agreed immediately, but his gaze fell upon Zhao Ji's face. Turning his head slightly to look at Pei Xiu, he asked, "When I arrived, I heard the men of Li Le's battalion speaking of a certain tiger-贲 archer among the troops who could hit a target from a hundred and twenty paces away?"

"Lord Zhao, this is my kinsman, Zhao Ji."

Pei Xiu stood up, stepped past Wang Zhi and Fan Zheng, and leading Zhao Ji by the hand, brought him to the front row, introducing him solemnly: "His childhood name is Ajie, and he is a childhood friend of mine. It is only because of his unruly temperament—with his paternal uncle worrying that he would provoke disaster—that he went to live in seclusion at Jishan. Upon hearing of the national crisis, he came down the mountain to answer the enlistment."

Zhao Yan scrutinized Zhao Ji closely and asked, "Ajie bears a striking resemblance to an old acquaintance of mine. May I ask where your ancestral home is?"

Zhao Ji bowed, speaking with the accent of Hedong: "Replying to Lord Zhao, my ancestral home is in Langya. My grandfather originally served as the County Magistrate of Guangning. In the first year of the Yanxi era under Emperor Huan, the Xianbei chieftain Tanshihuai raided the borders, and my grandfather was incriminated on official business. Unwilling to suffer the humiliation and insults of petty scribes and scriveners, he fell upon his sword and died. My late father's personal name was Lian, and having offended the local powerful gentry of his village, he went into hiding in Hedong."

"Zhao Lian?"

Zhao Yan frowned, suspecting this might be a false name, and said, "In the ninth month of the third year of the Yanxi era, Lao Bing of Taishan gathered a mob to rebel, ravaging Taishan and Langya, and murdering officials. As the commandery and counties were unable to suppress them, the court dispatched Zong Shudu, the Colonel Who Suppresses Bandits and a descendant of the Anyuan Marquis of Nanyang, to lead troops in a punitive expedition. My elder brother and I led our clansmen and fellow villagers to assist in the battle, serving as military advisors."

As he spoke, he sank into his memories, and then said to Zhao Ji, who remained emotionally unmoved, "In November of that year, Sunshu Wuji of Taishan rebelled and murdered the Commandery Commandant Hou Zhang. By the twelfth month, we followed Zong Shudu to capture and behead Lao Bing, and forced Sunshu Wuji to surrender. With the rebellion thus quelled, the court subsequently appointed me as the Cheng of Gaomi in recognition of my achievements."

Pausing for a moment, Zhao Yan smiled. "During that period, my nephew Zhao Jian committed murder and fled, and as a result, I too was stripped of my official post."

Pei Xiu asked with pleasant surprise, "Are you implying, Lord Zhao...?"

"It must be him."

Zhao Yan's smile was comforting, and unable to resist, he stood up and grasped Zhao Ji's hands, feeling that Zhao Ji's palms were entirely warm. He asked, "Does Ajie know where in Langya?"

"My late father never mentioned it; it was only this time when I left home to answer the enlistment that my father revealed his origins just before my departure."

"How admirable that he was so cautious."

Zhao Yan smiled, gripping Zhao Ji's hand tightly, and said to Pei Xiu and Jia Kui, "My courtesy name is Yuanming. Ajie's grandfather was the son of my paternal uncle, fourth in seniority, whose courtesy name was Zhenming."

Jia Kui bowed and asked, "May I ask, Lord Zhao, is Zhao Yuanda, the former Administrator of Guangang, a kinsman of yours?"

"He was my eldest nephew. When we were pacifying the bandits of Taishan, my elder brother fell in battle."

Zhao Yan's smile faded. Two years ago, when Cao Cao invaded Xuzhou and Tao Qian suffered a crushing defeat, during the Cao army's first massacre of Xuzhou, Zhao Yu, the Administrator of Guangling, sheltered Ze Rong, who had fled in defeat, only to be assassinated by him.

Both the second and third generations of the entire Zhao clan suffered devastating blows.

At this moment, looking at Zhao Ji, Zhao Yan seemed to see a new glimmer of hope.

The childhood name Ajie indicated that there must still be an elder brother alive, and coupled with his cousin Zhao Jian, the Zhao clan would not be left without successors.

Pei Xiu was also an orphan and knew nothing of the inner workings of the Zhao family, but recalling it now, the elders of the Pei clan had indeed shown excessive care toward Zhao Ji's father.

At this moment, Zhao Yan pulled Zhao Ji down to sit beside him. Only when Zhao Ji sat closer did he notice that the garments beneath Zhao Ji's armor were already soaked through with dried blood, exuding a thick, heavy scent of gore.

This scent of blood was far denser and heavier than the one emanating from Li Le's head, which was placed nearby.

The blood on a fresh head was much sharper.

Zhao Yan touched the exposed cords on the outside of Zhao Ji's arm armor, his fingertips scraping away dried flakes of bloodstain. "Why isn't Ajie wearing proper armor?"

Pei Xiu replied, "You may not know this, Lord Zhao, but Ajie not only possesses god-like archery skills, he is also peerlessly fierce and valiant. Over the past two days, having lived through three battles, he has slain no fewer than fifty enemy chieftains!"

"Has Ajie sustained any injuries?"

Zhao Yan asked immediately with a concerned look in his eyes. Warmth welled up in Zhao Ji's heart; the life of an orphan was never easy, and the life of a child without a grandfather, treated merely as an outlet for a bad-tempered father's wrath at every turn, was even harder.

The memories of the original occupant surged forth, and an inexplicable sense of grievance could no longer be suppressed. Tears welled up uncontrollably in his eyes, streaming down his cheeks.

He still clenched his teeth and put up a stubborn front—this was merely the sorrow of the original body.

"Good child, you have suffered."

Zhao Yan was well aware of that nephew's temper; back then, he even dared to slay members of the imperial clan, so what was there that he wouldn't dare do?

With trembling hands, he rolled up his sleeve to wipe Zhao Ji's cheeks. At this, Pei Xiu also felt a twinge of sorrow; he turned away, exchanged glances with the others, and they all quietly withdrew.

Walking out of the barracks a few paces, Pei Xiu looked up at the dim, distant firmament, feeling a sudden wave of longing for his own father and grandfather.

When he was young, before Zhao Ji's family moved away, he naturally knew what kind of life Zhao Ji had endured.

Even for the Zhao family back then, raising three sons and a daughter was already exhausting work, and the youngest son naturally seemed dispensable.

If Zhao Ji had been a girl, eating slightly less, the household might have been harmonious, but unfortunately he was a boy, and a ravenous eater at that.

That he hadn't been beaten to death by Old Zhao was already a blessing granted by their ancestors.

The more Old Zhao beat him, the more unruly Zhao Ji became.

To the extent that the fierce and ferocious valor Zhao Ji displayed the night before was something Pei Xiu could accept with ease—it had all been forged by Old Zhao.

The physique of an ordinary child would have been kicked crippled by Old Zhao's boots long ago.

Inside the barracks, Zhao Ji's tears had apparently run dry; his eyes were red, swollen, and burning, allowing him to finally regain his composure.

He wiped his face with the back of his hand, coughed lightly twice, and then spoke: "Lord Zhao, it will not be too late to reminisce and acknowledge our kinship after we have met my father."

His voice was faint. By now, Zhao Yan had also begun to weep. "There is no mistake; you bear seven or eight parts resemblance to my younger brother. Even if there were a mistake, your family originates from Langya and belongs to the same ancestral clan—how could it be wrong?"

Zhao Yan wiped away his tears with a handkerchief, composed himself, and recounted: "I had three sons and two daughters. First came the Yellow Turban Rebellion, then the great upheaval in Luoyang, followed by the chaos in the East of the Pass; all three of my sons perished. My youngest daughter was married to Pengcheng, and she too was killed by the Cao army. As for my eldest daughter's family, there has been no news at all, and I know not whether they live or die."

"When the Emperor moved eastward last year, your four brothers escorted the imperial carriage on either side, and they too perished in the service of the state."

Zhao Yan grasped Zhao Ji's hand tightly, terrified that Zhao Ji might leave him.

As an old man in his sixties, Zhao Yan's suppressed loneliness erupted; his tears stained his lapel and his nose ran, making him appear pitiful indeed.

After a moment, Zhao Yan composed himself as well and said, "Now all my descendants are gone, and Ajie is the sole remaining scion of the family... Once we meet Ajie's father, if we are indeed of the same household, I shall make the decision to have Ajie enter my branch to carry on the lineage. If we are merely of the same clan, I will still persuade your respected father to part with you. What are Ajie's thoughts on this?"

"I know not."

Zhao Ji turned his head away. "Lord Zhao, the current situation is critical. I ask that you assemble the others to discuss matters of state."

"We shall heed Ajie's counsel. Allow me to adjust my attire first."

Zhao Yan carefully wiped his face, straightened his scholar's cap of black gauze, coughed a few times, and nodded to Zhao Ji: "Ajie, go and summon the others in."

"Understood."

Zhao Ji stood up, rubbed his face, and upon walking out of the barracks, saw Pei Xiu, Jia Kui, and the others leaning against a low wall basking in the sun.

Pei Xiu walked over and asked in a low voice, "Ajie, how did it go?"

"Lord Zhao wishes for me to be adopted into his lineage to carry on the ancestral sacrifices."

Zhao Ji gave his reply, then added, "Shortly, I will escort Lord Zhao across the river to meet Xu Huang. If he refuses to submit, I will seize the opportunity to strike and behead him."

"Good. You must ensure Lord Zhao's absolute safety."

Pei Xiu turned to General Qiu Xing, who had hurried over with a look of intense curiosity, and said, "Axing, go and select men—choose thirty-odd men to accompany Ajie across the river shortly."

"Understood."

Qiu Xing agreed. At this moment, the look in his eyes as he gazed upon Zhao Ji had finally grown truly gentle.