Emperor Zhaolie of the late Han Dynasty: Rising to power in Liaoxi

Xu You nodded, lowering his voice even further: "Brother Benchu ​​naturally knows Wang Fu. He was the vanguard when Dou Wu was killed."

"Afterwards, he was rewarded for his merits and was granted the title of Marquis of Champion. He was extremely favored by the emperor."

"But relying on this merit, he became arrogant and domineering in the inner court, and gradually began to disregard the emperor!"

"Is there any concrete evidence?" Yuan Shao asked.

Xu You answered readily, "Of course not, but we only need to observe His Majesty's recent actions!"

"I have received reliable information that His Majesty intends to promote Zhang Rang, Zhao Zhong, and others to the position of Palace Attendants, in order to share Wang Fu's power!"

There was a moment of silence in the warm room.

Cao Cao suddenly spoke up: "If that's truly the case, we might as well take advantage of the situation!"

Xu You's eyes flickered: "Perhaps, Brother Benchu ​​can lend Zhang Rang a hand!"

Cao Cao remained silent for a moment, then nodded.

Xu You said, "Sooner or later, a winner will be decided between them. When that happens, no matter who wins or loses, the inner court will be in chaos for a while."

He paused, then lowered his voice slightly: "If the inner court is in chaos, the outer court will have room to maneuver."

"So when you said that this information would be useful to you, it wasn't just me trying to defend myself, it was the truth."

Yuan Shu did not respond.

His expression was still not good, but the aggressive aura he had just exuded had largely dissipated.

He picked up his wine cup, took a sip, and then looked away.

Yuan Shao glanced at Xu You, his gaze now filled with a hint of seriousness: "Ziyuan, thank you for your hard work."

Xu You waved his hand, his face regaining its amiable smile: "I'm just running errands and talking, it's nothing hard."

"There is one more thing that Brother Benchu ​​should perhaps pay more attention to."

"What is it?"

Xu You picked up his wine cup, took a slow sip, and then spoke: "Brother Benchu, are you aware of Consort He, who has recently gained favor in the palace?"

Yuan Shao frowned slightly: "Consort He? Is she the daughter of that butcher in Nanyang?"

"Exactly!"

Xu You nodded and said, "Consort He entered the palace last year, and the Emperor has been very fond of her."

"I heard from people in the inner court that although this person came from a humble background, he was extremely beautiful and had a strong personality. He was quite skilled in managing the inner palace."

Upon hearing this, Cao Cao suddenly laughed: "She's just a butcher's daughter, Ziyuan, why make such a fuss!"

Xu You gave Cao Cao a deep look. He knew that Cao Cao's cousin-in-law, Song Qi, was a relative of Empress Song.

However, he didn't point it out, and continued, "But You said this not to praise her."

"You meant that the emperor favored Consort He, and Consort He's father and brothers also became wealthy and powerful."

"Her elder brother, He Jin, was originally just a butcher in the market of Nanyang, but now he is known as 'Young Master He' and has carriages and guests coming and going."

"At this rate, the Ho family will inevitably become in-laws sooner or later."

"Brother Benchu, you should make plans as soon as possible!"

"Maternal relatives?"

Yuan Shu sneered, seemingly having found another target for ridicule: "A butcher, dares to call himself a relative of the emperor?"

Whether someone is a good match or not is not up to Brother Gonglu to decide.

Xu You's tone remained unhurried: "Whoever the emperor favors becomes his maternal relative."

"If Consort He gives birth to another prince, the He family's position will be secure."

Yuan Shao was silent for a moment, then slowly nodded: "Ziyuan is right."

Xu You picked up the wine pot and filled everyone's cups.

"Gentlemen, let me add one more thing: in the current situation, we cannot rush things."

"The conflict between Zhang Rang and Wang Fu needs time to escalate, and the He family needs time to build up its influence."

Yuan Shao raised his wine cup: "Ziyuan's words make sense. Come, drink this cup."

"From now on in Luoyang, be careful and keep in touch with each other."

The four raised their cups and clinked them together, producing a crisp sound.

As Xu You drank, his gaze swept across the three people present from the rim of his cup.

Yuan Shao smiled calmly, Yuan Shu smiled with forced embarrassment, and Cao Cao laughed heartily without any attempt to hide his laughter.

He lowered his eyes and drank the wine in his cup in one gulp.

When the banquet ended, it was nearly dusk.

A thin layer of gold floated on the Luo River, a rare warm light in winter.

Yuan Shao and Yuan Shu rode away in the same carriage, while Cao Cao rode alone on horseback, the sound of his horse's hooves echoing crisply on the bluestone slabs as it gradually faded into the distance.

Xu You was the last to leave the Yuan family's villa.

He stood at the door for a moment, watching the figures disperse, then adjusted his collar and walked north along the alley.

He didn't go back to his place. He turned two corners and stopped under an old locust tree.

A figure emerged from behind the tree, a man in his thirties, dressed in short brown clothes, with an ordinary face that would be easily lost in a crowd.

This man was named Xu An, a trusted confidant whom Xu You brought from Nanyang, and had followed him for nearly ten years.

"Go to Zhang Rang's residence."

Xu You's voice was very low: "Just say it's all taken care of."

Xu An didn't ask what had been accomplished; he simply nodded, turned, and left.

He walked in a very ordinary way, neither fast nor slow, without looking left or right, like an ordinary servant who had finished his errand and was in a hurry to go home.

There are thousands upon thousands of such people in Luoyang, and none of them give each other a second glance.

Xu You watched Xu An's figure disappear into the alley before turning around and walking towards his residence.

He turned the corner and his figure disappeared into the deepening twilight of Luoyang.

The Imperial Palace.

As night fell, lights began to illuminate the various places.

Consort He's palace was on the west side; it was not large, but it was exquisitely furnished.

She had only been in the palace for a year, yet she rose from a lowly concubine to a beautiful woman—a rapid promotion rarely seen in the harem.

It wasn't just her face that mattered; there were never any shortage of beautiful women in the imperial harem.

She relied on something else entirely—a vibrant energy that came from the common people and that other concubines couldn't learn.

Liu Hong liked this kind of spirit.

At this moment, he was reclining on Consort He's couch, having removed his outer robe and wearing only a crimson-purple undergarment.

He Meiren knelt beside him, peeling an orange for him.

Her fingers weren't slender, and her fingertips bore the thin calluses from doing housework when she was young, but her movements were light and agile, and she carefully picked out the white pith from each orange segment.

Zhang Rang stood outside the gauze curtain, bowing and with his hands at his sides.

He entered with extremely light footsteps, like a cat stepping on a roof tile, but Liu Hong still heard him.

"Is it done?" Liu Hong asked without opening his eyes.

"Your Majesty, everything is settled."

Zhang Rang's voice was neither too loud nor too soft, carrying the gentle quality characteristic of a eunuch: "The message has already been sent out."

Liu Hong opened his eyes, took a segment of orange from He Meiren's hand, and put it in his mouth.

The oranges were sweet, and he squinted his eyes in satisfaction.

"If they weren't stupid, they wouldn't let this opportunity slip by!"

"Your Majesty is wise!" Zhang Rang bowed even deeper.

Liu Hong waved his hand.

Zhang Rang understood and gave the attendants a wink. They all retreated, and he then backed out of the palace.

Only two people remained in the hall. The candlelight cast a slightly red glow on Consort He's profile. She lowered her head and continued peeling the orange in her hand, but her fingers moved a little slower than before.

Liu Hong looked at her with a fierce, aggressive gaze. Under the lamplight, the beauty seemed even more alluring than in the daytime.

Today she was wearing a light purple blouse with the neckline slightly open, revealing a section of her collarbone.

The candlelight fell on it, dyeing that patch of skin the color of warm jade.

He Meiren raised her eyes and met his gaze.

There was a smile in those eyes, but beneath that smile lay something else, something she recognized.

She didn't dodge; instead, she turned her face slightly to the side, revealing a curve from her earlobe to the side of her neck.

She performed the movement so naturally, as if it were unintentional, yet also intentional.

Liu Hong's hand landed on that arc.

My fingertips slid down from behind her ear, along the side of her neck, and slowly down to her collarbone.

Her skin was warm, while his fingers were slightly cool; the touch caused her to tremble slightly.

That tremor wasn't faked.

Liu Hong's Adam's apple bobbed, and his hand slid from his collarbone to his shoulder, causing half of his lotus-colored shirt to slip down his shoulder line.

The candlelight flickered.

He Meiren's breathing became erratic. She reached out and her fingertips touched the sash of Liu Hong's inner garment at the waist.

The ribbon was a deep purplish-red, similar in color to her shirt, and when they were intertwined, it was almost impossible to tell which was which.

She hooked one end of the ribbon with her fingers and pulled gently.

Liu Hong did not wait any longer.

The gauze curtains fell, concealing the intertwined figures.

A very soft laugh came from inside the tent. It was He Meiren's voice, with a hint of coquettishness and a rising tone at the end, like a feather tickling the tip of one's heart.

The laughter was cut off by something before it subsided, turning into a muffled whimper.

The night wind outside the palace brushed against the eaves, making a soft, mournful sound.

Zhang Rang stood under the corridor, his hands hanging down as he gazed at the dark blue sky above the palace wall, his face expressionless.