In the early morning of the next day, the aide of the General of the Rear’s estate, Yang Hong, sent a runner with a message. Zhou Yu was to see him after breakfast. Yang Hong was sharp, and a cunning light shone in his eyes. As he discussed matters with the senior officers under his command, he also assigned Zhou Yu an official’s position and issued him a command tally.
Zhou Yu would be an Officer of Records. His primary role was overseeing the promotions and transfers of the various officials in the city. This posting gave Zhou Yu a preliminary understanding of how Yuan Shu saw him. After the events of yesterday night, according to his essay and their discussion, Yuan Shu had put him in the same category as his father Zhou Yi. This job, where it was easy to offend others and difficult to be biased toward any side, suited the morally upright, outspoken scholarly type.
Since things were already moving along, he would wait here for Sun Ce and take this opportunity to familiarize himself with the system of officials.
Zhou Yu took up his role that day; there were three people total in the Office of Records, and they usually didn’t rise until the sun was high in the sky, nor did they do much on a day-to-day basis. When Zhou Yu organized the dusty, stacked volumes of recommendations for promotions, he learned Yuan Shu appointed people wholly based on his impression of them. This role of the Officer of Records was basically a government position in name only. For the most part, Yang Hong, Yuan Yin, and the rest of them, through their speculations on Yuan Shu’s mood, would order the Office of Records to compose articles of accusation and send them forth.
Zhou Yu was happy to be given so much free time, so he settled in easily. The estate was overstaffed, and every action moved at a cumbersome pace, but the pay was high. Yuan Shu was evidently willing to spend the money to support his subordinates living idly. He also gave Zhou Yu three hundred and twenty stones of grain, which Zhou Yu had absolutely no use for. He spent a while needlessly worrying about it. With all the people here, could the grain tax Yang Province generated be enough to feed them all?
Several days later, Fei Yu brought back a letter.
The situation in Luoyang has changed. I must stay for a while longer. The days are growing cold. Take care of yourself, and as soon as I am able, I will take my leave and come to Shouchun. Bofu
Zhou Yu’s forehead furrowed; Sun Ce wouldn’t make it back for a while, so he had no choice but to let things hang for now. He wrote a note on his paycheck and sent it back home. In Yuan Shu’s residence, his food and lodgings were taken care of, and he wasn’t mistreated, so at least for now he wouldn’t need to touch the grain.
A letter came from home, penned by Lu Su on behalf of his mother. Everything was well, and the letter told him to mind his conduct during his stay in Shouchun. It also mentioned the changing situation in Luoyang. Only Sun Jian’s men, of all the allied troops, were left, perhaps because his achievements were so great they threatened his superior’s position.
Once in a while, Zhou Yu would glean an inkling of knowledge based on the comings and goings around him, as well as the changing of appointments. He heard people in the estate mention Sun Jian’s troops remained outside of Luoyang, holding their position all this time. Despite Yuan Shu sending orders to recall him, Sun Jian refused to mobilize.
One day, Zhou Yu passed through the back garden to see Yuan Shu fervently discussing something with another middle-aged man; realizing these words were not meant to be overheard, he attempted to leave unobtrusively.
But the other middle-aged man noticed him. “Who goes there?”
Zhou Yu couldn’t hide. He could only cross through the corridor, enter the garden, and cup his hands in a bow to the pair of men.
“This is Zhou Yi’s son,” Yuan Shu said, with a pleasant expression. “Come, Zhou Yu, come recognize your uncle Yuan Shao.”23
“Young nephew greets Uncle Yuan,” Zhou Yu said.
Once he learned this was Zhou Yi’s son, Yuan Shao’s suspicions faded. Zhou Yu noticed a child under ten years old was standing by Yuan Shao’s side, holding his hand as he looked up at Zhou Yu.
“Come, Nephew Zhou,” Yuan Shu said, “take this little fellow on a walk around the estate until the sky grows dark, then take him to the Eastern Gardens for his meal.”
Zhou Yu nodded. The child shot Zhou Yu a look before glancing back at Yuan Shao. This was likely Yuan Shao’s grandson. Zhou Yu reached out to take his hand. He seemed clever and followed obediently behind Zhou Yu as they crossed the corridor, taking their leave.
Yuan Shao continued to argue with Yuan Shu.
“How much use can a single piece of jade be?”
“It’s not just any jade!” Yuan Shu was clearly angry as he replied. “The way that bastard’s squirreling it away clearly shows he’s not taking us seriously. If we don’t recall him, is he going to force a coup and declare himself the new emperor?”
When these words traveled through the courtyard, Zhou Yu felt his soul leave his body.
“Did you hear what they said?” the child asked.
“Shh.” Zhou Yu hurried to quiet him, leading him through the corridor. “I’m called Zhou Yu, courtesy name Gongjin,” he said, once they were clear. “What’s your name?”
“This humble one is Cao Pi. My father is Cao Cao, courtesy name Mengde,” the little boy replied, cupping his hands together as he greeted him ceremoniously.
Surprised, Zhou Yu asked, “Why have you come to Shouchun?”
Zhou Yu’s emotions were jumbled; he had not only seen Cao Cao but now his son. Though Cao Pi was still young, his actions and mannerisms were very similar to his father’s, and his features were very fine. When he grew up, he would be stunningly striking.
“My dad mentioned you before,” Cao Pi continued, dignified. “On behalf of my father and my family, allow me to thank Master Gongjin for saving his life…”
“Please, rise.” Zhou Yu couldn’t suppress his amusement. This kid had a prudent little head on such young shoulders, and he couldn’t help his admiration. He replied earnestly, “It was a trifling matter, nothing worth mentioning.”