Overthrowing Wei: Starting with Cao Cao's "I'd rather betray the world than surrender

Lu Ding didn't waste any words, he just pointed to the chair in front of the table.

"sit."

Chen Erhe knew from his expression that this was no ordinary matter.

Lu Ding pushed a blank piece of paper in front of him.

"What is the Fox Camp keeping an eye on lately?"

Chen Erhe answered quickly: "Shouchun, Liang State, and merchants traveling along mountain roads."

Lü Ding nodded.

"Add one more item."

Chen Erhe looked up.

Lu Ding said calmly, "Investigate Shenjiazhuang."

Chen Erhe was clearly taken aback.

"The Shen family?"

Lu Ding didn't explain much, only saying, "Look at the accounts of Shenjiazhuang over the past six months. Grain prices, land rent, and merchant caravan transactions."

"Don't alarm anyone."

"Just figure out one thing."

Chen Erhe asked, "What is it?"

Lu Ding stared at the candlelight on the table and remained silent for a while.

The flames swayed gently in the wind, casting long shadows on the wall.

"Shen Wan's tone was off when she brought up rent reduction today," Lu Ding said.

"So, what does the young master think...?" he asked tentatively.

"I always felt that she was carrying some burdens all by herself," Lü Ding said.

"Since she won't say, I won't ask," he added. "But I still need to find out."

Chen Erhe nodded.

It's not difficult for Fox Camp to investigate such matters. They might not be able to see the manor's accounts, but the income and expenditure of grain shops, cart companies, caravans, and even grain rent will always leave traces.

By simply following a few lines, you can probably figure out some clues.

"Which end should we start from?" he asked.

Lu Ding thought for a moment and said, "Let's check the grain first."

"A 30% rent reduction won't immediately make up for the shortfall in the fields. If the Shen family fills this gap, there will be some activity in the granary and the caravan."

The Fox Camp's men were scattered throughout the city. Blacksmith shops, cart dealerships, taverns, ferry crossings—they had informants everywhere. As long as a message was passed out, they could quickly gather clues.

"How many days until we have news?" Lu Ding asked.

"If things go smoothly, it will take two or three days," Chen Erhe replied.

Lü Ding nodded.

"Remember one thing," he said.

"What are your orders, young master?"

"Don't alert the Shen family," Lü Ding said, looking at him. "And don't let Shen Wan know either."

Chen Erhe was slightly taken aback, but quickly understood.

If the estate is truly in dire straits, Shen Wan's silence likely stems from a desire to avoid putting Lü Ding in a difficult position. If the Fox Camp were to directly inquire, it would be a breach of propriety.

"I understand," he said.

Lü Ding waved his hand: "Go."

Chen Erhe stood up, bowed, and turned to leave the courtyard.

A night breeze blew in, causing the lanterns outside the courtyard to sway gently. The first watch of the night had just ended at the prefectural government office, and the city was not yet completely quiet. In the distance, the occasional sound of wheels rolling over stone roads could still be heard from the streets and alleys.

Most of the Fox Camp members had by then dispersed throughout the city.

He stood at the door for a while, mentally going over the lines.

Grain shops, cart dealerships, and caravans.

Shenjiazhuang has always been reliable in its operations and its accounts are clear. If anything goes wrong, it will most likely not be revealed within the village, but rather in its external business dealings.

He tightened his cloak and went outside.

As night deepened, the lights of Runan City had not yet been completely extinguished. Although the streets were much quieter, a few figures could still be seen outside the taverns. In the blacksmith shops south of the city, the firelight still shone, casting a red glow on the eaves.

Chen Erhe didn't go in; he only stopped briefly at the street corner.

The people in the Fox Camp don't need to be personally involved in everything; they just need to send out the message, and someone else will ask for it on their behalf.

He turned and walked towards the car dealership.

There were always people keeping watch there at night—drivers, porters, and cargo handlers—all sorts of people. Their information about the caravans was often more reliable than that of the government.

Night slowly fell in the city.

Meanwhile, the lights were still on inside the county government office.

Lü Ding remained seated at his desk.

The map of Yuzhou lay spread out on the table, the mountain ranges of Lutailing, Baimapo, and Xiling undulating slightly in the lamplight. The rotation of cavalry patrols in the south was now in place, the mountain roads were safe, and merchants and travelers were gradually increasing. Logically, things should be much easier than last year.

But he always felt that something was not quite right.

He reached out and flattened the picture, then recalled the scene at the entrance of Shenjiazhuang.

The lamplight, the account books, and Shen Wan's soft voice—

"The Shen family has already complied with all of their land."

She said this without complaining or explaining.

It's like stating something perfectly ordinary.

But the more this is the case, the more worried people become.

Lü Ding sighed softly.

He was no stranger to times when the estate was strapped for cash. When grain and iron prices rose, a quarter's harvest could be wiped out in one go. If the rent were reduced by another 30%, most people would have already come to complain.

Shen Wan didn't mention it at all.

The candlelight flickered.

Lü Ding rolled up the map and set it aside. The room fell silent, with only the distant sound of the night watchman's drum echoing through the air.

The Fox Camp members have already gone out to investigate.

We should have the results in two or three days.

But he had a vague feeling in his heart—

This matter is probably not as simple as just the manor being in a tight spot.

The night grew deeper.

On the mountain road outside the city, the torches of the patrol riders moved slowly in the distance.

About ten miles south of Runan City, there is a small village called Yangjia Village. The village is located next to the official road, and there are many merchants and travelers coming and going on weekdays.

That night, the gates of the manor remained open.

A few lamps were lit in the courtyard, and several oxcarts were parked at the entrance. The carts were piled high with grain sacks, causing the axles to sag slightly.

The steward of the manor was standing at the door counting people.

"This cart carries thirty shi (a unit of dry measure)," one of the men said.

The manager nodded and made a mark on the wooden sign.

Someone nearby muttered under their breath, "The harvest on the farm wasn't great this year, so why are they suddenly giving out so much grain?"

The manager glanced at him and said, "Don't ask too many questions."

The man couldn't help but say, "This isn't a loan, it's a free gift. The Yang family's tenants already have low rent this year, and with this extra grain, where will the farm get the money?"

The manager did not answer immediately, but simply put away the signboard.

After a while, he lowered his voice and said, "Not from the village."

The man paused for a moment.

"Not Shijiazhuang?"

The steward looked up at the night outside the courtyard gate and lowered his voice.

"It was sent from the south of the city."

The waiter didn't react for a moment.

"South of the city?"

The manager didn't say anything more, only waved his hand: "Load the carts and deliver them to the villages before dawn."

The group quickly got to work.

The grain sacks were loaded onto the oxcart one by one. The wheels made a dull thud as they rolled on the muddy ground.

In the darkness not far away, someone was quietly watching all of this.

The man, wearing an old cloak, stood motionless in the shadows of the trees.

He only turned and left after the oxcart had slowly left the village gate.

The next morning, a teahouse in the city had just opened its doors.

A porter-like man went in and ordered a bowl of hot soup.

Halfway through his drink, he suddenly seemed to remember something and casually said to the innkeeper:

"Yangjiazhuang sent grain out last night."

The shopkeeper looked up: "Delivering grain?"

"Hmm." The man wiped his mouth. "He said it was to supplement the tenants' income."

The shopkeeper frowned.

"When did Yangjiazhuang become so wealthy?"

The man chuckled, his voice very low.

"I heard it wasn't the Yang family's grain."

The shopkeeper was stunned.

"Whose is that?"

The porter did not answer, but simply tapped the table lightly with his hand.

"South of the city."

The shopkeeper was taken aback.

There is only one Zhuangzi that can be referred to as "south of the city".