Chapter 28: A Path Less Traveled

"With Master Ling here, and given that we have often shown him favor, I imagine our benefactor will not distance himself from us."

"Not necessarily. While Ling'er is clever, he lacks maturity. It would be fortunate if he isn't led astray by that lad; expecting Ling'er to influence him? That is difficult!"

Hong'er thought for a moment before adding, "There is no need to be so anxious, is there? Our benefactor is a man of sentiment. With persistence, like water dripping through stone, he will surely grow closer to us."

The old village head shook his head. "Dripping water may pierce stone, but do you not realize that time waits for no one? The world is in turmoil, and the state is in dire need of capable men. Given how brilliantly that lad has performed, how could he remain in our small pond for long? I have already made preparations; once matters here are settled, I intend to invite the Three Elders of the county to join me in recommending him to the new Inspector..."

*The Three Elders?* Hong'er was startled. The Three Elders were the most prestigious seniors in the region. It was said that not even a Governor or an Inspector would dare treat them lightly; even the Emperor, upon meeting them, would respectfully invite them to take the seat of honor. For some of the most esteemed Elders of the Realm, the Emperor would even wait for them to begin their meal before touching his own chopsticks as a sign of reverence. Her master had always harbored a faint hope of one day being chosen as a local village elder—a grand ambition in itself—yet now, he intended to invite the Three Elders of the entire county to jointly recommend their benefactor.

At this thought, she felt a surge of genuine joy. She had known all along that their benefactor was destined to become a remarkable figure.

"So, you see my painstaking efforts now, don't you?"

Unlike Hong'er, who felt a simple sense of joy, some of the more precocious daughters of the noble families felt a twinge of regret. Why such a stark contrast in their moods? And why did this head of the Wang family place such importance on Su Yao, going so far as to lead the recommendation effort himself?

This brings us to the unique official selection mechanism of the Great Han Dynasty: the *Chaju* system. Since Emperor Wu of the Former Han established it, this system replaced the old aristocratic hereditary office system, becoming the primary method for the Han court to select officials. This bottom-up approach—where local officials would observe, evaluate, and recommend talent from their jurisdictions to their superiors or the central government for trial and appointment—was a revolutionary success.

By ignoring lineage and titles, the *Chaju* system was seen as a beacon of hope for the impoverished nobility. Upon its implementation, it brought forth a vibrant era where talent surged, scholars flocked to the cause, and extraordinary individuals emerged in abundance. Furthermore, with its diverse categories of selection and its emphasis on moral character, it laid a solid foundation for the shaping of the Han national identity.

However, good times do not last. As time passed, since the Later Han, the rules of this system were mastered and controlled by local powerful clans, who gradually monopolized the channels. The Wang family of Qi County, though considered a prominent clan locally, could not compete with the Wang family of Jinyang in the same commandery. The most glaring evidence of this was that since Wang Yun, they had not secured a single new nomination, a grievance they had long been unable to forget. Now, with the hope of the entire clan—the high official Wang Yun—removed from office, the future of the Qi County Wangs looked even bleaker.

But the appearance of Su Yao was a beacon of light in their darkness. This was because, beyond the almost monopolized annual "Filial and Upright" (Xiaolian) category, there existed a special category: the "Valiant and Versant in Military Strategy" category.

As the name suggests, this category was created to select generals who were brave in battle or well-versed in military strategy to lead troops. It was not a permanent category and was generally not open in ordinary times. But with the world in chaos today, ever since the Emperor issued an edict in the first year of Zhongping for the high ministers to recommend those throughout the realm who understood the art of war to report for duty at the public carriage office, this special category had been opened annually to recruit the nation's military talent to cope with the turbulent situation.

The path of martial arts is the most difficult to fake. Unlike other categories that were rife with abuse—leading to farcical situations where those recommended as scholars knew no books, or those recommended as "Filial and Upright" had abandoned their parents—the requirements for the "Valiant" category were extremely high in value, and, relatively speaking, such talent was harder to bury.

Thus, when the old village head saw Su Yao, he immediately thought of this. By recommending him from the village to the Inspector's office, and then having the Inspector recommend him to the imperial court, they could facilitate his rapid rise from the countryside to the provinces, and from the provinces to the center, achieving a transformation of class—a true leap over the dragon's gate. This was the right granted to them by the *Chaju* system, the very intention behind its creation.

But as the saying goes, if one does not act in one's own interest, heaven and earth will destroy one. For those who wielded such power of recommendation, while benefiting the state was fine, benefiting oneself was more critical. Thus, ensuring a convergence of interests between the recommended and the recommender was their primary concern. It was under such maneuvering that the unique "patron-client" relationship of the Han *Chaju* system was born.

Yet, this was ultimately an unspoken game among the noble families, not an ironclad rule of the system. There was no true enforcement. Thus, the old village head hoped for a better way to forge a tight bond between the two sides. Especially after hearing at the banquet that the lad seemed to be a man without family or roots—since that was the case...

"What better way is there than to marry into the family?"

...

"I understand the situation now."

Rising in the morning, Su Yao rubbed his head, which throbbed from the hangover, while digesting the plot Hong'er had just recounted. *Chaju*, patrons—he understood these concepts well enough. For instance, the famous "father-killer" Lu Bu from *Romance of the Three Kingdoms* did not actually adopt Ding Yuan as his foster father in real history; his betrayal was not an act of patricide, but a severe violation of the "patron-client" game rules of the Eastern Han, which led to the hostility of the noble families.

As for their desire to recommend him, Su Yao immediately thought of Zhang Liao and Zhang Yang, who historically followed the *Chaju* path, were pushed into the central government by Ding Yuan, and joined the camp of General-in-Chief He Jin.

*So that’s it,* Su Yao thought. He understood the main quest of this game. If he chose to cooperate with the Wang family here, it would be the "Central Han" route: traveling to Luoyang, witnessing Dong Zhuo’s chaos, and participating in the coalition against him. It was indeed a route well-suited for a novice player to experience the story of the Three Kingdoms.

"However, I refuse!" Su Yao waved his hand.

"Eh?!" Hong'er, holding a bowl of ginger soup to cure the hangover, froze, her small frame rigid.

She felt she had been completely honest in telling their benefactor all the details, so why would he refuse? This was clearly a move highly beneficial to his future. Why?

"Is it... because of that Diaochan?"

Hong'er recalled how their benefactor, who usually slept like a log, had been restless throughout the night, muttering dream-talk she couldn't understand. But she had etched into her heart the stage name of the woman he had called out several times while tossing and turning. What kind of beauty could she be, for their benefactor to hold her in such high regard and describe her as having a face that "shamed the moon"? What was their relationship?

At this thought, Hong'er’s heart twinged with pain. When she voiced this question to Su Yao, the only reply she received was:

"Women will only slow down the speed of my sword!"

"Ah?"

Although Su Yao didn't know why the name Diaochan had popped up, it clearly had nothing to do with women, but rather a fundamental question of his path. Indeed, Su Yao had no interest in following a smooth, novice route. A high-freedom game always provided different choices for players to explore.

Combining his historical knowledge, Su Yao decided to take a more unique path: saving Bing Province.

That’s right—saving it! If the game's progression truly simulated history, Bing Province was about to face a destructive storm. The Xiongnu he had just fought were merely the rear-guard raiding party left over from a previous conflict. Before long, the main Xiongnu force would likely launch a massive invasion into the surrounding commanderies while Ding Yuan was occupied with moving troops and the central government was in turmoil. They would devour all the northwestern commanderies of Bing Province, staging a tragedy where seven of the nine commanderies of Bing Province would be lost in a single year.

And simultaneously with this Xiongnu crisis—perhaps even earlier, this very year—another tragedy would unfold: the White Wave Bandits ravaging Taiyuan. If this small fortress could be breached by scattered Xiongnu soldiers, what would happen here when faced with the "hundred thousand" White Wave Bandits?

Su Yao was not certain, but compared to going to Henei to find Ding Yuan and following the peaceful Central Army route, he preferred to carve out a destiny in the war-torn lands of Bing Province. That was the iron-blooded path suitable for a high-end player.