Chapter 32: Recruiting Cheng Yu

Yanzhou, Dongjun Commandery, Dong’e County—

In a countryside cottage somewhere, a man who looked to be in his thirties sat leisurely by the riverside, holding a bamboo scroll and reading intently.

His beard was thick and shiny, reaching down to his chest.

Suddenly, a commotion echoed from the direction of the village entrance.

The man didn’t pay it much mind, but his wife curiously looked toward the noise.

After watching for a moment, she turned to her husband with a puzzled expression.

“Dear, those people look like officials… and it seems like they’re heading our way?”

“Heading our way?”

Now the man was confused too.

‘What would government officials want with his household?’

‘Tax collection?’

‘But it was still months away from the summer harvest.’

‘There was no way they’d be collecting taxes now.’

‘Then what could it be?’

‘Surely they’re not coming to recruit me into office, right?’

He laughed to himself at the thought.

If he were still in his twenties, he might’ve actually been excited by the idea of being summoned for official duty.

After all, why had he spent all those years studying so diligently? Wasn’t it all for the chance to become a government official?

But now that he was in his thirties, he understood all too well: in the Han Empire, reading books didn’t necessarily lead to an official post.

There was no guaranteed connection between scholarship and office.

Official positions were tied to family influence, not learning.

If you were born into a noble family of ministers and officials, with generations of ancestors who held prestigious posts earning two thousand bushels in salary, then from the day you were born, someone would work to build your reputation.

By the time you turned twenty and came of age, you’d already be famous as a “filial son” throughout the realm.

A few years later, you’d be recommended by local officials as a “filial and incorrupt candidate,” and soon after, you’d enter the imperial court as a gentleman attendant, stepping straight onto the path of political power.

If you were born into one of the Three Excellencies’ families, your rise would be even swifter.

Be recommended as a filial candidate before age thirty? For the sons of the Three Excellencies, that was nothing.

They’d be appointed before they even turned twenty, and shortly after, they’d be posted as county magistrates in major districts.

But for them, even being a county magistrate was merely the starting point.

Within three years, they’d return to the capital, promoted thanks to their outstanding political achievements.

From there, they’d steadily climb the ranks.

They might not all reach the position of Grand Minister, but high-ranking posts worth two thousand bushels were definitely within reach.

And as for studying?

What was the point?

For those aristocratic sons, just finishing primary school and learning to read and write was enough to qualify them for official positions.

Power had always been inherited through blood, not earned through intellect.

Take the magistrate of nearby Puyang County—some young man named Yuan Shao.

He had only just come of age and was already recommended as a filial candidate.

Within a year, he had been appointed magistrate of a major county.

When it came to scholarly knowledge, this man was confident he could crush Yuan Shao.

But reality was cruel: while he remained at home farming and studying, that other fellow was already climbing the ladder, simply because he was born into the Yuan clan—a family with four generations of Three Excellencies behind it.

By now, this man had long given up any hopes of entering officialdom.

***

As he stood lost in thought, the procession approaching from the village finally arrived at his doorstep.

What surprised him most was the sight of the county magistrate—usually so arrogant and condescending—now bowing and fawning before a man in the center of the group.

The man glanced at this official’s waist and saw a copper seal tied with a black ribbon.

In the Han dynasty, an official’s status was marked by the material of their seal and the color of their ribbon. Because Dong’e County had fewer than ten thousand households, the magistrate was only ranked at four hundred bushels and wore a copper seal with a yellow ribbon.

A copper seal with a black ribbon was only worn by officials of six hundred bushels or higher.

Which meant this man standing at his door outranked the county magistrate by quite a lot.

‘So… he’s from the commandery office?’

The man had already made a bold assumption by thinking this visitor was from the commandery-level administration.

The official glanced at the thatched cottage, then fixed his sharp gaze on the man standing calmly by the riverside.

“You are Cheng Yu, styled Zhongde?”

“Yes, sir. I am,” the man replied, bowing politely.

The official turned to look at the county magistrate.

The magistrate gave a confirming nod, verifying that the man before them was indeed Cheng Yu.

The official then produced a formal document and began to read aloud.

“By order of the Minister of Works, Cheng Yu is hereby summoned to serve as a Registrar in the Ministry of Works. You are to assume your post immediately.”

‘A registrar under the Ministry of Works?’

Cheng Yu felt momentarily dizzy upon hearing the appointment.

In the Han dynasty, the Ministry of Works oversaw three major departments: the Office of the Imperial Clan, the Ministry of Finance, and the Agriculture Office.

The ministry had one Chief Clerk, twenty-nine Registrars, and forty-two clerks and aides.

A registrar held the rank of Four Hundred Bushels, with a bronze seal and yellow ribbon—meaning that if Cheng Yu accepted this post, his status would immediately be equal to that of the current magistrate of Dong’e County.

In terms of future prospects and actual authority, a local magistrate couldn’t possibly compare to a central government official in the Ministry of Works.

Hearing the appointment, the county magistrate looked at Cheng Yu with a mixture of envy, jealousy, and frustration.

No one knew how this man had caught the attention of Minister Cao, who was all the way in Luoyang.

Happiness had come so suddenly that Cheng Yu was nearly overwhelmed with joy and tempted to accept the appointment on the spot.

But in that crucial moment, his brain—blessed in some obscure Three Kingdoms game with an Intelligence stat of 90—managed to regain control, and he calmly cupped his hands toward the official.

“May I ask your name, sir?”

The official, whom Mengde considered a mere side character, returned the courtesy and replied, “I am Pei Yue, currently serving as Chief Clerk of the Ministry of Works.”

‘Chief Clerk?’

Cheng Yu’s expression changed again upon hearing the title.

The Chief Clerk of the Ministry of Works held a thousand-bushel rank, with a bronze seal and black ribbon.

He was responsible for overseeing and managing all ministry officials and assisting the Minister directly.

Within the ministry, he was the second-most powerful person after the Minister himself—low in title, but immense in power.

And such a high-ranking figure had come in person to recruit him?

Cheng Yu was astonished.

He gave another respectful bow and said, “Chief Clerk Pei, please forgive me, but I must decline the appointment.”

In the Eastern Han, not only did emperors practice the ritual of three refusals before accepting the throne, but even commoners summoned to office were expected to go through this formality.

It was a way to raise one’s value.

But Miss Mengde, who was in a hurry to head north, had no intention of playing these kinds of games.

So upon hearing Cheng Yu’s words, Pei Yue simply turned and gestured to the people behind him.

“Set it on fire.”

“Ch-Chief Clerk Pei…!” Cheng Yu panicked, rushing forward to stop him. “What are you doing!?”

Pei Yue cast a calm glance at him and replied, “The young lady gave an order. If you dare refuse the appointment, then we are to burn your house down and drag you and your entire family to Luoyang.”

“Th-this…!”

Cheng Yu was left utterly speechless.

‘Who was this so-called young lady?’

‘Why was she completely ignoring tradition?’

‘What happened to the three courteous refusals!?’

‘But such ruthless and decisive methods…’

‘Perhaps she is someone… truly worth serving.’

That thought crossed Cheng Yu’s mind.

Finally, wearing a bitter expression, he bowed once again to Pei Yue and said, “I accept. I accept the appointment. Is that good enough?”

“Good,” Pei Yue said with a pleasant smile, handing over the official document to Cheng Yu.