Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Descendants of Cao Zhi (4,000 Words)

On the day of Wuchen in the first lunar month of the fourth year of the Taikang era (283 AD), Liu Xian tidied his attire and baggage, exchanged smiling farewells with his mother, Zhang Xi, and went to the stables to fetch a small red horse. Leaving the East Dock, he set out alone for Mount Shouyang to pay a New Year’s visit to the elder Ruan.

The weather was clear and the sun bright, casting its light over an infinitely expansive landscape blanketed in silver. Under the unhindered glare of the sun, the snow on the ground evaporated, filling the air with a vapor that was simultaneously warm and biting. As Liu Xian rode through this, he realized he was the only soul in the vast wilderness, which stirred a sense of loneliness within him.

Liu Xian was now twelve years old and had grown significantly taller. Two years of rigorous martial training under the elder Ruan had made him appear capable and robust, much like a young adult. Even riding alone through the snowy expanse, he possessed a presence far from the frailty often found in the scions of the nobility.

However, Liu Xian had not seen Shi Chao or Jia Mi for a long time.

This was, of course, due to the factional strife involving the Prince of Qi. Over the past year, this conflict had caused significant turbulence in the political scene of Luoyang. Even from outside the capital, Liu Xian could clearly perceive the fallout: after Zhang Hua was sent to a provincial post, Zhang Wei followed him to Youzhou, and the prominent families in Luoyang were locked in constant, bitter feuding. Fearing that the escalation of these party politics might endanger their families, many high-ranking officials had sent their children back to their ancestral homes. Thus, Shi Chao, Wang Zhou, Xun Chuo, and others had already been recalled.

For Liu Xian, however, that was the extent of it. No matter how fierce the struggle, it had no impact on the residence of the Duke of Anle. On the contrary, it had put the Duke, Liu Xun, in a surprisingly good mood. Apart from that one time he had scolded Liu Xian last year, he had rarely lost his temper; he had ceased his debauchery and even attempted to reconcile with his wife, Zhang Xi. By the ninth month of last year, when Zhang Xi suffered from a loss of appetite, she initially thought she was ill, only to discover that she was pregnant once more.

The entire household rejoiced. Over the years, despite the Duke having taken eight concubines, none had borne him a child, leaving Liu Xian as his only son. Now, with the couple expecting again, the main line of the family seemed poised for a modest revival. Zhang Xi had subsequently handed over the household management to her widowed sister-in-law, Fei Xiu, and retired to the East Dock to recuperate and await the birth.

Liu Xian felt happy about these changes at home. Consequently, though the past year had been somewhat lonely, it was of little consequence; by focusing on his studies, he had little time to dwell on other matters.

Upon arriving at Mount Shouyang, Liu Xian dismounted. With gifts in one hand and the reins in the other, he walked from the foot of the mountain into the courtyard of the Ruan estate. He saw that the snow had been cleared into piles, but looking around, he saw no one. A pale, grayish mist drifted over the low walls, and the air carried the faint, solitary scent of sandalwood. The bamboo grove in the courtyard remained lush and green, untouched by the snow, but there was no birdsong—only a few donkeys and horses chewing on fodder and sneezing in their stalls.

Liu Xian tethered his red horse alongside the others. Observing that there were three additional mounts, he realized at once that he was not the only guest. He debated whether to enter directly or linger at the gate until someone came to usher him in.

As he pondered, a young boy suddenly ran out from the inner courtyard. Seeing Liu Xian standing alone, the child let out a startled cry. The boy was no more than five or six, dressed in a short-sleeved blue cloth tunic, with clear eyes and a fair, delicate complexion—clearly the child of a noble family.

The boy stared at Liu Xian and asked, "Who are you?" Liu Xian countered, "And who are you?" The child replied hastily, "I am Agua!" Liu Xian could not help but smile, wondering whose child this was; he was quite adorable.

At that moment, Ruan Xuan, the grand-nephew of the elder Ruan, emerged. Seeing Liu Xian, he waved him over with a smile. "Piji, you’ve come quite early! The elder Ruan is inside speaking with a guest; let me introduce you." With one hand holding Liu Xian’s sleeve and the other pulling the boy named Agua, he led them to the inner chamber. As he walked, Liu Xian thought, *In these politically tense times, few scholars have come to visit. Who could be here to see the elder Ruan? Surely it isn't just to discuss metaphysics?*

Upon opening the door, the fragrance of tea wafted out. Looking inside, Liu Xian saw the elder Ruan sitting on a mat across from his guest, while Ruan Fu was brewing tea. Two youths, similar in age to Liu Xian, sat in the lower seats, evidently the juniors of the guest.

When the elder Ruan saw Liu Xian enter, he slapped his knee and gestured for him to come forward, smiling at his guest, "Come, come! Let me introduce my prized pupil, the great-grandson of Liu Xuande, the current heir to the Duke of Anle, Liu Piji!" He then turned to Liu Xian, saying, "Quickly, Piji, pay your respects to the Duke of Kuancheng!"

*The Duke of Kuancheng!* Liu Xian was stunned, and then curious. What was he doing here?

The Duke of Kuancheng was Cao Zhi, the grandson of Emperor Wu of Wei (Cao Cao) and son of the Prince of Chensi (Cao Zhi), who currently served as the Libationer of the Imperial Academy.

Unlike the Duke of Anle, Cao Zhi, though born of the previous dynasty's nobility, was highly valued by the new one. Because he had been a childhood friend of the current Emperor Sima Yan, they shared a deep bond and mutual interests. After the founding of the Western Jin, he had served as the Administrator of Leping, a Regular Cavalier Attendant, and a National University Doctor, eventually rising to Libationer. It was said that fifty or sixty percent of the scholars who had entered officialdom in recent years were his students.

The three children accompanying him were his nephews, Cao Yun and Cao Hui, who were about Liu Xian's age, and his five-year-old grandson, Cao Miao.

After the formalities, Liu Xian presented the gifts he had prepared—two jars of Huadiao wine brewed by his mother and ten jin of freshly slaughtered beef—to the elder Ruan, then took his seat in the lower position.

It was clear that Liu Xian’s intuition was correct: the Duke of Kuancheng had come with an urgent matter. Although he scrutinized Liu Xian with curiosity and exchanged a few pleasantries, he did not dwell on idle chatter, instead immediately returning to the topic he had been discussing with the elder Ruan.

Listening quietly from the side, Liu Xian gradually understood. The Duke of Kuancheng had also been affected by the factional strife and had come to seek the elder Ruan’s help.

Following a recent mutiny, the unrest at court had not ceased but had merely shifted to a new battlefield. Throughout the previous year, the Emperor and the Prince of Qi had clashed three times, with the Prince on the offensive and the Emperor on the defensive. By now, the Emperor had reached his limit and intended to seize the initiative. At the end of the year, he had issued an edict to the Ministry of Rites, ordering the Minister and the doctors to draft a proposal to bestow further honors upon the Prince of Qi—ostensibly to demonstrate fraternal harmony, but in reality, to pressure the Prince to return to his fief.

The Emperor had not anticipated, however, that the Ministry of Rites favored the Prince of Qi over the Crown Prince. As soon as the edict arrived, the doctors were incensed and began to voice their objections.

Seven of them—Yu Fu, Taishu Guang, Liu Tun, Miao Wei, Guo Yi, Qin Xiu, and Fu Zhen—young and hot-blooded, drafted a passionate memorial after their discussion. In it, they cited precedents from the Zhou and Han dynasties, arguing that the Prince of Qi’s role in assisting the government was justified and that he should not be sent away, urging the Emperor to withdraw his decree. The Minister of Rites, Zheng Mo, and the then-Libationer, Cao Zhi, were moved by the memorial and added their own signatures before presenting it to the Emperor.

The result of such defiance was predictable. After the memorial reached the Secretariat, the Emperor was reportedly filled with uncontrollable rage. He first cursed the Duke of Kuancheng: "Cao Zhi does not understand my heart! All those years of friendship, wasted!"

That night, he issued an edict criticizing the Ministry of Rites: "Answering what was not asked, and creating heterodox theories! These are the views of bookworms! How can the state tolerate this?!"

He subsequently ordered the arrest of everyone involved, sparing only Cao Zhi due to their past friendship, though he was stripped of his titles and sent home. The following day, the Minister of Justice, Liu Song, reported to the Emperor, proposing that the doctors be beheaded for the crime of lèse-majesté, a response for which the Emperor had yet to issue a reply.

This had happened six days ago.

In the days since, the Duke of Kuancheng had been frantic. These imprisoned doctors were his subordinates and friends; he could not stand by and watch them die. After his dismissal, he had been traveling everywhere to seek out recluses and famous scholars, hoping they would join him in a joint memorial to persuade the Emperor to stay the execution. His visit to the elder Ruan was, naturally, an attempt to leverage the reputation of the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove.

Speaking of this, the Duke of Kuancheng was overcome with emotion and let slip some incautious words: "I am a member of the former dynasty's royal family, the son of the Prince of Chensi. How did our ancestors lose their foundation? Was it not because Emperor Wen of Wei suspected his own kin and alienated his brothers? Now I serve His Majesty, and having finally seen the world unified, how can I watch him repeat those same mistakes? When there is such talent among one's own kin, they should work together! Yet the Emperor is so suspicious and seeks to slaughter loyal, high-minded men. How can one not be heartbroken?"

The Duke heaved a long sigh, tears staining his robes. After regaining his composure, he bowed again before the elder Ruan, pleading, "Brother Zhongrong, you are renowned throughout the realm, and your words carry weight. I hope you will cherish these loyal and patriotic hearts and save these talents for the nation..."

The elder Ruan could hardly bear such a grand gesture and quickly helped the Duke to his feet. However, he looked troubled regarding the request to sign the joint memorial. By nature, he was carefree and unconstrained, which was why he had stayed away from court politics for so many years; to break this custom now would go against his very principles.

Just as he was struggling, Liu Xian, sitting in the lower seat, suddenly asked, "If I may be so bold, may I ask if you intend this memorial to save the doctors from death, or to exonerate them of their crimes?"

The Duke of Kuancheng, not expecting Liu Xian to interject at such a critical moment, was momentarily displeased. However, he possessed excellent self-control and quickly adjusted his expression, replying, "At this point, how could they possibly be exonerated? To be spared from death would be fortunate enough."

Liu Xian smiled. "In that case, in this child’s view, since the doctors have already been spared from death, there is no need for you to submit a memorial at all."

"Oh?" The Duke was suspicious. He looked at Liu Xian, then at the elder Ruan, who wore a faint smile and did not interrupt. Stroking his beard, the Duke changed his tone and asked, "What is your high opinion, young master?"

"It is not a high opinion, merely a deduction based on precedent." Seeing that both the Duke and the elder Ruan were staring at him, Liu Xian felt a surge of excitement and continued: "The current Emperor prizes a reputation for leniency. Since his ascension, he has never initiated a major purge. Consider the great defeat at Xiling, where Yang Zhao lost so many men—far more than ten thousand. By law, he should have been executed, yet in the end, he was merely demoted to a commoner. However great the crime of the doctors may be, can it be greater than that of Yang Zhao?"

"And this is not an isolated case. Last month, was it not rumored that the Imperial Guards were preparing to 'rectify the throne'? Such a treasonous act, yet when it was exposed, the Emperor treated it as a minor matter, and to this day, no one knows who the mastermind was. Compared to that, what is a mere memorial from these doctors? To execute them, these renowned scholars of the literary world, would completely ruin the Emperor’s reputation, which he has spent decades cultivating. It is simply not worth it."

Seeing the elder Ruan and the Duke of Kuancheng nodding repeatedly, Liu Xian became even more animated. Although he had spent the last two years reading the *Laozi* and *Zhuangzi* and practicing archery and music under the elder Ruan, he had not neglected his primary studies, reading history for two hours every night by lamplight. As he grew older, his insights became sharper, and his understanding of the political landscape began to far exceed that of ordinary people. He continued:

"I heard you say that the Minister of Justice’s verdict has been reported for six days, yet the Emperor has left it sitting in the palace. Why? Even if a death sentence were passed, it would not be carried out until autumn—there is always room for maneuver. But to drag it out like this serves no purpose other than to keep people in fear. This shows that the Emperor only intends to intimidate. But if he has already decided to kill, why the need to intimidate? Unless..."

"The intimidation is real, but the killing is a bluff!" The Duke of Kuancheng realized, completely won over by Liu Xian's logic. He stepped off the mat, looked Liu Xian up and down, and clapped his hands in praise to the elder Ruan: "Brother Zhongrong, this disciple of yours is truly remarkable! I am envious!" He turned to the two brothers, Cao Yun and Cao Hui, and said, "You are of similar age, yet your insights are as different as heaven and earth. You must work harder and learn from young brother Liu." The two youths hung their heads, pouting, not daring to speak.

For the remainder of the time, the Duke of Kuancheng chatted with Liu Xian, covering everything from poetry and music to geography and humanities. Before they knew it, the afternoon had turned to dusk, and the Duke even sat knee-to-knee with him. He deeply appreciated Liu Xian’s eloquence and exclaimed, "You are still young, yet some of your insights already surpass my own. You will surely achieve great things." Before departing, he unfastened the tiger-headed jade pendant from his waist and gifted it to him.

Liu Xian was also very happy. Among the elders he had met, apart from his mother and the elder Ruan, few had been willing to listen to his thoughts and insights for so long. Being able to speak freely for the entire day filled him with genuine joy.

As the Duke of Kuancheng’s party gradually disappeared along the bamboo path, Liu Xian began to gather his things.

He did not know that the conversation of this day would completely change his destiny.