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

The banquet at the county school didn't feel like a banquet at all.

There was neither drumming nor music, nor servants passing by.

The table was sparsely arranged, the wine cups were not full, the dishes were bland, and there was not even much heat.

But as soon as you sit down, you know that the point here isn't the food and drink.

When Lü Ding entered the hospital, his steps unconsciously slowed down for a moment.

It wasn't nervousness, but confirmation.

He was trying to confirm whether he had reached a point where he "could not retreat any further."

The old locust tree in the courtyard casts long, crooked shadows that cover half of the courtyard.

The stone slabs were swept very clean, and even the fallen leaves were gathered aside, indicating that it had been tidied up in advance.

Xu Huang glanced around and whispered:

"It's even cleaner than the county government office."

Xun Heng smiled and said, "Because this place doesn't support idlers."

Lu Ding walked at the front, dressed very simply today in an old blue-collar robe.

Xuezheng was the first to step forward, his gaze calm and composed: "Young Master Lü."

This address, though spoken in a low voice, carried an undeniable weight.

Lu Ding simply returned the greeting with a cupped hand, without saying anything more.

Immediately, Xuezheng's gaze swept over Xun Heng beside Lü Ding, pausing slightly as if to confirm: "Young Master Xun has also arrived."

Lu Ding's heart stirred, but he said nothing.

Xuezheng did not speak afterward, but led Lü Ding and his party inside.

After taking his seat, Lü Ding noticed that there weren't many people—seven seats, with only one person sitting at each seat.

The table at the very head of the table was empty; not even a bottle of wine was set on it.

This is an old rule of the county school: no one sits on an empty desk, so as to reserve a place for "scholarship".

After a round of drinks, no one spoke.

The conversation during the meal revolved around old stories: the academic traditions of the pre-Qin period, the local governance of the early Han dynasty, and the history of Emperor Guangwu's reconstruction of county schools.

It sounds like casual conversation, but every sentence revolves around one central theme—where does local order come from?

No one brought troops, no one brought provisions, and no one brought anything from outside the city.

The silence was broken only when a white-haired, venerable scholar put down his wine cup.

"The nights in Pingyu have been very quiet lately."

The tone was casual, as if he were saying that it was getting cold.

There was a noticeable pause at the table, and no one responded. The great scholar didn't press the matter, but continued on his own:

"A quiet night is not a bad thing. But if the night is too quiet, trouble is more likely to happen."

He looked up and his gaze fell on Lü Ding for the first time.

All attention was focused on him.

Lu Dingxian bowed and said, "This student dares not speak presumptuously."

The scholar nodded: "Then say what you dare to say."

Lu Ding spoke up: "There are two reasons why the night is quiet. First, there are official orders in place; second, people's hearts are at peace."

The scholar narrowed his eyes: "Which one do you think Pingyu is?"

Lü Ding did not evade the question: "The area inside the city is the former; the area outside the city is the latter."

After he finished speaking, the room fell silent.

Some people subconsciously looked at the empty desk, as if to confirm whether these words could cross the line of "the county school can hear them".

The scholar smiled. Not a sneer, but an acknowledgment after hearing the truth: "You are honest."

He paused for a moment, then asked, "So how long do you think these two kinds of nights can coexist?"

Lu Ding thought for a moment: "Let's see if there's anyone willing to settle the accounts."

"How do we calculate it?"

"Whoever holds the title bears the responsibility."

As soon as he finished speaking, someone at the table gently put down their wine cup; the sound was soft, yet clear.

The scholar remained silent for a moment, then suddenly asked, "What's your name?"

Lü Ding bowed again: "Lü Ding."

"Stabilize?" The scholar nodded. "Can it be stabilized?"

Lu Ding looked up: "If I couldn't stay still, I wouldn't be sitting here."

This statement is neither humble nor arrogant.

The scholar picked up his wine and slowly drank it all: "When the Shen family invited me here, they said they had someone outside the city who could keep me here. I originally thought it was because of their provisions; now I see it's because of their discretion."

He paused, then asked, "Is there any writing on it?"

Lu Ding was taken aback: "I haven't taken it."

The great Confucian scholar said in a deep voice: "The way to govern order and chaos does not lie in military tallies or provisions, but in knowing when to stop, knowing when to advance, and upholding moderation and righteousness, which will allow one to survive for a long time."

He looked up at Lü Ding and said, "Although Young Master Lü is not from a Confucian family, his uprightness and integrity are truly rare. If you wish to give him a courtesy name, you might consider 'Yunzhong'."

The banquet was completely silent, not because of shock, but because—these three words perfectly suited this person's nature.

Lu Ding remained silent for a long time, then bowed deeply: "Thank you for bestowing upon me your courtesy name, sir. May I ask your name?"

Chen Qun raised his eyes, his tone light yet profound: "I am Chen Qun. I have long resided in the academy, reciting classics with scholars. It was only at the invitation of the Shen family that I was able to come here today."

He paused for a moment, then said, "What I say today is not for personal reasons, but only in the hope that the way of governing the world can be realized."

After speaking, he raised his cup, drank it all, and slowly left.

When the banquet ended, no one saw them off; everyone tacitly understood—this is the end for today.

When he left the hospital, no one from the Shen family appeared, but Lü Ding knew that in this game, the Shen family had already completed the step they were supposed to take.

Xu Huang said in a low voice, "They didn't give you a name."

Xun Heng laughed, "But they recognize your handwriting."

Xun Heng walked last, glancing back at the empty desk before leaving: "From today onwards, when people talk about you, they will no longer mention 'that manor outside the city'."

"He can speak—Lü Yunzhong."

As the wind rustled through the shadows of the locust trees, the gates of the county school slowly closed.

Meanwhile, inside the county government office.

The magistrate sat upright at his desk, his brow furrowed. The document was handed to him, but he barely glanced at its contents, only catching a few names out of the corner of his eye: Shen Jia, Chen Qun, and Lü Ding. His brow tightened slightly, and his lips pressed even more firmly.

"Lu... Yunzhong?" he repeated in a low voice, as if confirming his own question, yet with a hint of undisguised helplessness.

After careful consideration, the registrar slowly spoke: "Reporting to the magistrate, it's news from the city... Chen Qun... has been given a courtesy name."

The magistrate sighed softly, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of the table, as if tapping out the anxiety in his heart: "A mere boy from another village... actually got Chen Qun to bestow a name upon him." His voice was not loud, but it conveyed a suppressed powerlessness.

The registrar stepped forward to advise, "Your Excellency... perhaps it's not directed at the yamen (government office)... it's just..."

"But?" The magistrate's voice was low, almost to himself, "But... he can even write other people's calligraphy, but when I asked him to handle the spring famine and quell the chaos in the city, he refused to accept the order."

He looked up, his gaze falling on the account books on the table, but he seemed to see nothing. His fingertips trembled slightly, and he murmured, "Yunzhong... Yunzhong..." as if reminding himself that behind this name, a boundary he could not control had been drawn.

The registrar remained silent. Only the soft rustling of papers and the magistrate's slow sighs filled the hall.

Outside the window, the wind blew through the locust tree once again, causing a few fallen leaves to swirl, as if reminding the people inside the county government office—some things can never be undone.

As Lü Ding walked back to the village in the night, he seemed to carry an even greater weight on his shoulders.

Those three words are more than just a title; they are a symbol of recognition and a check and balance. The small village outside the city has now been written into the annals of people's hearts.

He knew in his heart that the next step was not just about keeping watch and repairing roads. Some people would take action, and some would test the waters. And these tests would not only come from Pingyu, but also from the county government.

Amidst the rustling wind, he recalled Chen Qun's last words as he left: "What I have said today is not for private discussion, but only in the hope that the way of governing the world can be realized."

It was as if reminding him that the title "Yunzhong" was not just a title, but a responsibility.