Little Whirlwind Cao the Great Gentleman

Cao Mao's residence stood at the very center of Yuan City.

Tall palace walls surrounded it, enclosing a magnificent, sprawling complex of buildings. It was the most extravagant residence in all of Yuan City, indistinguishable from a royal palace.

In fact, Cao Mao's home really was a royal palace.

Originally, Cao Pi had made his son Cao Li the Duke of Qin, later changing his title to King of Jingzhao, then to King of Yuan City.

Cao Li could not withstand all that moving back and forth and died in Yuan City. Seeing that his younger brother had left no heir, Cao Rui thoughtfully arranged for Cao Ti, son of Cao Kai, the King of Rencheng, to succeed him as King of Yuan City.

Of course, the moving still had to continue. Before long, his title was changed to King of Liang.

The palace was thus left empty, held in reserve.

Across all of history, the Cao Wei imperial clan had its titles and fiefs changed more often than any other. Its members spent their entire lives constantly relocating, with almost no chance to develop their domains.

And when the Sima Family took power, Sima Shi could not bear to see the imperial clansmen subjected to such relocation and humiliation, so he thoughtfully arranged for all of them to live in Hebei, far from their own fiefs.

Cao Mao's fief was in Tancheng County, over in the Qi and Lu region.

Yet now he lived in Yuan City.

Cao Mao led his many hangers-on to the palace gates.

Two old soldiers stood at the entrance, their bodies thin and lean, spears cradled in their arms as they swayed from side to side.

The residence's main gates stood wide open. People came and went in a lively bustle.

The moment Cao Mao entered the palace, he heard Guo Ze's incessant questioning.

"What sort of decorum is this? How can you wrestle bare-bodied in the front hall?"

"What sort of decorum is this? How can you gamble here?"

"No reckless talk in the front hall!"

He was a young man wearing a long robe, dressed quite plainly, yet every part of his attire complied with ritual propriety. Nothing overstepped the bounds or was out of place.

Even his face looked perfectly proper.

His name was Guo Ze, and he served as Cao Mao's Director of Guidance.

His duty was to teach Cao Mao to do good and prevent him from behaving badly.

The position was usually filled by a gentleman renowned for his virtue, but the gentleman they had found for Cao Mao was rather too much of a gentleman.

When he turned and saw Cao Mao, he hurriedly straightened his clothes and cap, then bowed with the ceremony due to a duke.

Cao Mao accepted his salutation with helplessness written all over his face.

"Lord Guo, why must you go to such lengths...?"

"Duke of the Village, propriety must not be abandoned."

Guo Ze spoke solemnly, then pointed at the people around the residence.

"Duke of the Village! These servants of yours openly wrestle, spar with weapons, gamble, and gallop about the residence... how can this be allowed?"

"It is utterly improper!"

"Hahaha! I have always treated them as friends. There is nothing to do right now anyway. What is wrong with letting them amuse themselves?"

Guo Ze was deeply distressed.

He truly missed the obedient, book-loving Noble Rural Duke of old.

The Noble Rural Duke he had first met had been so intelligent, kind, and eager to learn, pestering him all day to study the Book of Documents.

Most unforgettable of all was the strong youthful spirit he possessed, always brimming with confidence, always bursting with vitality.

In the Noble Rural Duke of those days, he had seen so much of Emperor Wen's bearing that he had repeatedly mentioned this exceptional young duke in letters to his eldest sister.

Then, a year ago, the Noble Rural Duke had fallen from his horse while practicing mounted archery.

From that moment on, he had seemed like an entirely different person.

He had never touched the Book of Documents again and had begun trying his hand at wicked deeds.

He colluded with bandits, befriended merchants, funded Wanderers, and spent his days bullying tradesmen and tyrannizing markets, showing no respect for his elders and knowing no restraint.

Guo Ze had tried to stop him many times, but never succeeded. The entire residence had been taken over by a band of roguish Wanderers, and he could not control them at all!

At the thought, Guo Ze's heart filled with guilt. It was all because he had failed to teach the Duke of the Village properly!

"Duke of the Village, you are a duke of the mighty Great Wei. How can you keep company with petty men from the streets and call them friends?"

Cao Mao paused, then asked with a smile, "Do you mean I should befriend worthy men and eminent scholars, and invite gentlemen renowned for their virtue to visit my residence?"

Guo Ze nodded eagerly. "That is precisely what you should do."

"But the Imperial Court has issued an edict forbidding princes and nobles from associating with guests. We are not allowed to befriend those scholars or invite them over. If the Imperial Court calls me to account, shall I say you told me to do it?"

Guo Ze's eyes widened, and he hurriedly shook his head.

"I cannot bear responsibility for so grave a matter. The Imperial Court has its reasons... even if the Duke of the Village cannot associate with scholars, you should not associate with these people. That is against the law as well..."

"Gentlemen, have I been associating with you?"

The rough fellows around him burst into laughter at that. "We are merely servants under Duke Cao. How could that count as associating?"

Guo Ze's face instantly flushed red. He stammered, "Even so, several merchants delivered money just now... nobles are also forbidden from befriending merchants or engaging in commerce."

"I have never engaged in commerce, much less befriended merchants."

"I merely pitied them and offered a few ideas, teaching them how to grow wealthy through trade and help their neighbors. They sent me money of their own accord to thank me. Is that wrong?"

Guo Ze stared blankly at Cao Mao. "It is not wrong."

Cao Mao smiled. "Then please help count the money they sent. There are more and more things that require money. Only with money can we help our neighbors and do more good deeds. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Well..."

In the end, Guo Ze obediently went off to work.

Cao Mao was actually quite satisfied with him. A gentleman could be deceived with a plausible principle.

This Director of Guidance genuinely regarded his duty as teaching. In truth, he could simply have issued Cao Mao firm commands. If Cao Mao refused to listen, he need only submit a memorial to the Three Offices.

Yet he had never done so. He still earnestly tried to reason with Cao Mao, and Cao Mao's twisted arguments always left him speechless.

As Cao Mao passed through the front hall, he spotted someone sitting beneath a tree in the distance.

The man was getting on in years and was drunk as a puddle of mud. His clothes hung open, his gaze was unfocused, and he sat on the ground with both legs stretched out, his whole body reeking unbearably.

Cao Mao greeted him with a smile.

"Lord Yang!"

The man opened his eyes, glanced at Cao Mao, then tilted his head and went back to sleeping soundly.

This old man was Cao Mao's Supervising Envoy.

He was supposed to be the official responsible for monitoring Cao Mao and reporting his misdeeds to the Imperial Court.

It was just that this old man was rather strange.

He never paid any attention to official business. His clothes and cap were always disheveled, and he constantly muttered to himself.

But Cao Mao could understand.

The entire Eastern Han Dynasty had itself been founded on prophetic texts and divination.

Because Liu Xiu had held such prophecies in high esteem, superstition had permeated the entire Eastern Han. By the Late Han, it had become the mainstream. The Confucian scholars of that time all looked like charlatans, spouting strange things all day and connecting every natural phenomenon to affairs of government.

By the time of Wei, Xuanxue flourished, producing a whole crop of scholars who revered freedom and did absolutely nothing.

The self-abandonment of the later period had already begun to take shape.

Many scholars' spiritual pillars had collapsed. Faced with the Sima Family's heavy-handed repression as well, they developed a profound urge to retreat from the world and a deep disgust for it, displaying absurd and unrestrained behavior.

The scholars of the great Han had observed ritual propriety scrupulously. But as rites crumbled and ceremonial music fell into ruin, scholars began to despair of propriety and cast it aside. Later generations often called this the elegance of Wei and Jin.

Whether it truly was elegance, only they themselves knew.

Lord Yang probably had no desire to serve as an official. Even after becoming Supervising Envoy, he did no proper work, spending his days drinking and taking medicinal powders. All year round, he lay beneath the tree, talking to himself and acting mad.

Yet Cao Mao rather liked him. Who would not want a Supervising Envoy like that?

Seated inside Ke Rang Hall, Cao Mao looked at the people on either side of him and felt considerably more at ease.

At least he had acquired some small measure of strength.

He still remembered when he had first transmigrated here: utterly alone, with only seven or eight old soldiers and two officials around him, and so little money that he could not even maintain the palace.

Only after the souls from two different eras had merged did Cao Mao understand just how difficult his situation was.

Great Wei kept an extremely tight watch on the imperial clan, guarding against them as though they were thieves.

It had truly not been easy for Cao Mao to get this far.

One could say that no other member of Great Wei's imperial clan lived as comfortably as he did.

He had no shortage of money and had opened an estate specifically to welcome heroes fallen on hard times. Among Hebei's outlaws, he was a hero of resounding fame, Great Wei's own "Hebei's Protector of the Righteous," or "Little Whirlwind Cao the Great Gentleman."

Almost every wandering swordsman in Hebei knew his name. Those who got into trouble often came to him seeking shelter.

Of course, ordinary people in the city also came to him for help whenever they suffered an injustice.

Yet Cao Mao's conduct had attracted no serious attention from the local authorities.

Instead, it had made the officials look down on him. They thought that befriending commoners from the lowest ranks showed he had no prospects and was beneath notice.

Great Wei had its own peculiar circumstances.

In Great Wei, a member of the imperial clan could not have too good a reputation. If you could compose a poem in seven steps, were beloved by scholarly circles, surrounded yourself with Confucian scholars, and excelled in learning, the Imperial Court would absolutely torment you to death.

But if you were a villain who spent every day beating his wife and children, went out to prey on the common people, had rotten personal morals, and was despised by scholarly circles, you would be perfectly safe.

Yes, that described Cao Mao's father, Cao Lin, the King of Donghai.

In the eyes of those lofty gentlemen, Cao Mao's behavior—mingling with Wanderers, working with merchants, and consorting with commoners—was no different from his father's.

All of it deserved the contempt of scholarly circles.

"Duke Cao! Disaster!"

A rough-looking man came rushing into the hall in a panic, his eyes filled with terror.