"He Xian, you have sowed discord between my uncle and me. One day, I will surely eat your flesh alive!" Dong Huang, who was being dragged away like a dead dog, remained stubborn to the end, earning He Xian's grudging admiration.
However, He Xian didn't care. He had no intention of staying in Luoyang forever, living a life of constant fear. Offending Dong Huang now was just a minor matter. When he fled to the east of the Hangu Pass, he could even boast about this incident, using it as a major credential for having played Dong Zhuo.
Just when He Xian thought the matter was resolved and he could simply dust off his hands and go home, the dark-robed scholar who had been frowning and staring at him from the side suddenly spoke up again: "Grand Commandant, in my humble opinion, this scion of the He family is a tiger's cub, possessing both knowledge and righteousness, truly a pillar of the state. How can Your Excellency let such a talented pearl remain covered in dust?"
Ru?
Li Ru, Li Wenyou?
Damn your ancestors for eighteen generations! Li Ru, you bastard, why did you first help me and then try to harm me? Having Dong Zhuo recommend me for an official post—isn't that putting me right under Dong Zhuo's nose?
How am I supposed to escape then?
Dong Zhuo, who had already returned to the head of the hall, had softened his expression somewhat. But when facing He Xian, his demeanor suddenly became overwhelmingly imposing. A sharp light flashed in his eyes as he said in a deep voice, "He Xians courtesy name, are you willing to submit to me?"
This question was not asked in a roundabout way; it was direct and sharp! Clearly, after the farce with Dong Huang, his patience with He Xian was wearing thin.
I'd be willing to submit to your ancestors!
You fat bastard aren't my fiancée, what gives you the right to demand I say 'I do'!
At this moment, ten thousand grass-mud horses stampeded through He Xian's heart. But when he clearly heard the sinister tone in Dong Zhuo's voice, he knew he had absolutely no room for retreat. He could only feign delight, cupping his hands and saying, "This humble nephew is willing, but..."
Before He Xian could finish, Dong Zhuo waved his hand impatiently, interrupting him. "Good. In that case, I shall petition the court, recommending you for the position of Attendant Gentleman of the Palace."
The Attendant Gentleman of the Palace was a type of Lang official, specifically a gentleman within the palace, serving as a close attendant to the emperor. Its rank was equivalent to 600 dan of grain. Its duties included managing carriages, cavalry, and gates, serving as the emperor's guard and entourage. Such a position was neither particularly high nor low, especially for He Xian. For him, this was indeed a promotion and cultivation by Dong Zhuo.
When He Jin was alive, he rose from a butcher to a powerful Grand General who dominated the court. Therefore, he was always apprehensive and acted with caution and low profile. He was also very strict with He Xian, only allowing him to serve as a minor clerk in the General's office with a rank of 300 dan.
Today, Dong Zhuo promoted He Xian from a minor clerk of 300 dan to an Attendant Gentleman of the Palace with a rank equivalent to 600 dan. This was truly an act of honoring the worthy, showing great magnanimity and vision.
Yet at this moment, He Xian, with his head bowed low, had an extremely gloomy expression.
If He Xian were merely the historical He Xian, he might truly have admired and been impressed by Dong Zhuo's vast magnanimity. However, He Xian, the time-traveler nurtured by countless later films and dramas, saw through the sinister nature of Dong Zhuo's promotion at a glance!
Once he became an Attendant Gentleman of the Palace in the court, his every move would be under Dong Zhuo's control. Not only would his plan to escape from the Sili Province completely vanish like a bubble, but he would also have to keep his tail tucked in and behave obediently every moment.
More importantly, who was the current gentleman in attendance, the direct superior of the Attendant Gentlemen?
He Xian looked warily at the calm, dark-robed Li Ru beside him and couldn't help but sigh deeply—that's right, the current gentleman in attendance was none other than Dong Zhuo's trusted strategist, Li Ru. For a fledgling like himself who had just arrived in this chaotic era to try to outwit this first major strategist to appear in the late Han/Three Kingdoms period was simply asking for death.
It was only at this moment that He Xian fully understood: Dong Zhuo's summoning him today was probably for this very moment. Giving him a powerless sinecure and placing him right under Li Ru's watchful eye. This way, not only did Dong Zhuo gain a reputation for promoting the worthy, but he could also legitimately reorganize and absorb the military forces and private troops affiliated with the He family.
At this moment, He Xian couldn't help but sigh again: Those who left their names in history were indeed not a single lamp that saved oil!
Fortunately, before entering the Grand Commandant's residence, He Xian had already made thorough preparations for 'blowing out the lamp and snuffing the wick.' Faced with Dong Zhuo's seamless poisonous scheme, he immediately prostrated himself on the ground, shouting in a tone of sincere and earnest gratitude: "This humble one thanks Your Excellency for your gracious favor! For today's kindness, I shall certainly go through fire and water, and serve with the loyalty of a dog or horse to repay it!"
Upon hearing this, Dong Zhuo finally revealed a victorious smile. He was about to wave his hand to let He Xian rise and encourage him when He Xian lifted his head again, showing a face full of disappointment, conflict, and unbearable pain: "However, despite Your Excellency's profound favor, I cannot accept it with joy."
The smile instantly froze on Dong Zhuo's face, followed by uncontrollable, frenzied killing intent. He slammed the table and stood up: "He Xian, do you think I dare not kill you?"
At this point, Dong Zhuo's last shred of patience with He Xian had worn away, and his murderous intent was no longer concealed. Yet He Xian still wore a look of terror and haste, even pressing his head to the ground: "Your Excellency, please forgive my offense. In my heart, I am a thousand times willing. However, my late father has passed away, and I must observe the mourning period for him. During this time, I cannot hold a court position..."
As these words fell, Dong Zhuo was immediately choked with anger, deflating like a punctured balloon as he slumped back into his seat. Even those seated around were left speechless, none having expected He Xian to still hold such a trump card.
China is a country that highly values 'ancestral traditions,' especially during the han dynasty, which governed the state with filial piety and ritual. Everything had to follow court laws or precedents from previous dynasties. The influence of this adherence to tradition could not be ignored. Even later, when Dong Zhuo held absolute power and could trample imperial authority underfoot, he dared not challenge this tradition that had been passed down for centuries and was recognized and upheld by everyone in the land.
And the tradition of a son observing mourning upon his father's death was a cornerstone of the ritual system affecting the state. Therefore, when He Xian stated that he could not take up a court position due to mourning, Dong Zhuo had almost no excuse to reject it.
For a moment, He Xian was like a sharp boxer, forcing Dong Zhuo to the edge of a choice: either endure the existence of He Xian, this unstable factor, or reveal the dagger at the map's end and solve the problem once and for all!
Thus, after his deflation, the look in Dong Zhuo's narrowed eyes gradually flickered with the conflict between slaughter and compromise. The great hall fell into silent stillness; even the future treacherous hero Cao Cao wore an extremely grave expression at this moment.
The silent He Xian had fine beads of cold sweat already forming on his temples: He knew he might have played too big this time. Making the historically cruel and violent Dong Zhuo calmly weigh his options was almost forcing Dong Zhuo to unleash his ferocity!
Sure enough, after the time it takes an incense stick to burn, Dong Zhuo ultimately could not suppress the violent rage in his heart. His eyes turned icy and furious. He leaned forward, his thin, cold lips twitching, on the verge of uttering the order to execute He Xian!
But at this critical moment, a voice leisurely drifted through the hall: "Grand Commandant, Young Master He's filial piety and adherence to ritual should naturally be praised. However, the Han court has only just stabilized after great chaos. Bandits rise everywhere within the realm; this is truly a time of national crisis. At such a juncture, we precisely need men of filial piety and righteousness like Young Master He to assist in rectifying and supporting the state."
He Xian couldn't help but look towards the sound. He saw a man in his forties kneeling in the corner of the hall. In the han dynasty, such an age could almost be considered elderly. However, although this man had a sparse beard, he wore a tall hat and a long sword, sitting as still as a bell, possessing an air of immortal grace. On his thin face, a pair of eyes half-open and half-closed shone with a sharp light. When he turned to glance at He Xian, his gaze was as calm as ancient water.
Dong Zhuo's impending killing intent was halted by this man's words. He turned his head and asked with evident resentment, "Wenhe, what exactly do you mean by this?"
Wenhe... Jia Wenhe, Jia Xu—one of the most top-tier, most cunning conspirators of this era.