Chapter Thirty-Six: Establishing Authority

At present, Dong Zhuo could be considered the foremost minister of the court, commanding vast numbers of troops and formidable generals. The fierce and battle-hardened Xiliang cavalry was his greatest asset. Though he now held sway over the imperial court, wielding power above all save the young emperor himself, his official rank was curiously mismatched to his actual status. It was said that a high rank could suppress others, yet Dong Zhuo, though ennobled as Former General, was not the highest in title within the imperial administration. In Dong Zhuo’s eyes, who among all these officials could possibly stand against him, or match his identity?

Dong Zhuo, possessed of extraordinary ability, sought nothing less than the very best. Though the young emperor had not yet been replaced, Dong Zhuo aspired to be the grand steward and agent of the sovereign—the Chancellor.

What was a Chancellor? The one who governed and oversaw the entirety of a nation, acting as the sovereign’s chief steward and agent, the true head of all officials. The term "Cheng" meant "assistance," and thus "Prime Minister" originally referred to the assistant of the Chancellor. At first, the Chancellor held the higher position, the Prime Minister lower—the Chancellor as chief, the Prime Minister as deputy.

The first Chancellor of the Han dynasty was Han Xin, followed by Cao Shen’s initial appointment, Fu Kuan, Xiao He’s first term, Fan Kuai, Zhou Bo, Xiao He, and upon Xiao He’s second term and death, Cao Shen succeeded him. After Cao Shen’s second term, the office was left vacant for a time. After Empress Lü’s death, her nephew Lü Chan was made Chancellor, and from then until the middle of the Eastern Han, no one held the office.

Dong Zhuo believed his achievements rivaled those of Han Xin and Cao Shen, perhaps even surpassing them.

Within the Xiliang military encampment…

"Wenyou! Now that I hold the reins of power and command the imperial court, none dare oppose me. Yet my official rank..." Dong Zhuo mused, glancing at Li Ru. Though they were father-in-law and son-in-law, Dong Zhuo always addressed his trusted advisor by his courtesy name, a mark of respect for his beloved strategist, who was his indispensable right hand.

Li Ru, knowing Dong Zhuo’s mind, smiled gently before Dong Zhuo could finish. As a confidant, he had long since guessed his lord’s intentions; now, he need only voice them aloud. Those in power seldom spoke their thoughts plainly, preferring their subordinates to urge them forward. Thus, if merit was gained, it became the ruler’s own; if calamity ensued, blame could be shifted to the underlings, severing ties cleanly—a tactic of political intrigue, timeless and universal.

"The Han dynasty is in decline, my lord, yet you are filled with patriotic zeal and command two hundred thousand Xiliang troops. Zifan has been driven from the capital and cannot return soon. As for Ding Yuan, though he has brought forces to Luoyang, he is a man of courage without wisdom, not worth worrying about. He cannot stir great trouble; you need not be concerned, my lord."

"As for the court ministers, they dare not speak out. Should you merely brandish your sword, they would scatter in terror."

---

The next morning, at dawn...

By three o'clock, the ministers were already gathered outside the palace gates. Around five, they straightened their robes and prepared to attend court.

The young emperor was especially spirited, his bright yellow robes embroidered with a dragon soaring above the vast seas. The hem, with its surging golden waves, billowed in the wind, and his sleeves fluttered high. Today was his first time presiding over morning court; even if he did not understand, he was determined to put on a show of dignity.

The young emperor was given ample respect. The ministers, impeccably dressed, many weeping upon seeing the emperor’s solemn appearance.

With a shrill cry from the eunuch, court was formally opened…

"Long live the Emperor! Long live, long live, ten thousand years!"

"Ministers, rise… If you have matters to present, speak; if not, you may retire."

It must be said, the young emperor, in dragon robes upon the throne, played the part convincingly, resembling a true sovereign.

"How could I miss your majesty’s morning court?" The thunderous voice echoed through the palace. Dong Zhuo, clad in heavy armor and wielding a jeweled sword, strode boldly into the court. The assembled officials lowered their heads, not daring to meet his gaze.

Dong Zhuo, unrestrained, marched to the throne. His sharp eyes pierced the young emperor’s heart, causing him to falter instantly.

"Lord Dong, what brings you to court today? Such refinement! I… I feared disturbing your rest, so I did not visit. I hope you do not mind," the emperor stammered, trembling as he descended from the throne to greet Dong Zhuo. Dong Zhuo, however, smirked, lifting his heavy arm to clap the emperor’s shoulder, frightening him further.

---

The officials below dared not voice their anger, their eyes cold as they watched Dong Zhuo. If looks could kill, Dong Zhuo would have died countless times. His ostentatious entrance was a clear bid to redistribute power, raising questions about the ambitions of the Xiliang Inspector and what he sought this time.

"I have something to say—listen well," Dong Zhuo turned, his half-open eyelids sending a steely glare downwards, his blade-like eyes sweeping the hall, pressing all present into breathless silence.

"To secure the court, to intimidate every corner of the Han, to keep rebels from acting rashly, to restore order and assist the emperor’s accession—I have exerted myself greatly."

The ministers dared not speak, yet inwardly scorned Dong Zhuo. All knew that the greatest rebel was Dong Zhuo himself; the thief crying "stop thief"—truly a master of duplicity.

"With such merits, perhaps I might be granted an appropriate office…" His bloodshot eyes bore into the emperor, muscles twitching with barely contained force.

"Lord Dong, for your merits, would the title Chancellor satisfy you?" The emperor trembled as he spoke.

"Very good… very good! I did not expect such favor from your majesty," Dong Zhuo replied, "then I shall accept with humble gratitude, and henceforth serve you faithfully."

Meanwhile, on the broad grasslands, Zifan received an imperial decree as well, appointing him Governor of Youzhou and ordering him to take up defense there. Although the emperor and ministers had long forgotten Zifan’s achievements, the Princess Taiping had not. In this world, perhaps only Zifan could make Dong Zhuo hesitate.

Zifan smiled, dusting off his clothes. In this dark court, to still have someone care for him, to remember his virtues—was it not a blessing in itself?