The world dissolved into mist, and Zhao Ming found himself once again within the Hall of Eternal Echoes. The vast bronze doors loomed before him, inscribed with the deeds and regrets of ages past. This time, as he stepped inside, the spirits awaited him with a rare air of approval.
Empress Lü's gaze was sharp but not cold. "You have shown the authority of a ruler, not merely a commander," she intoned. "To turn enemies into allies, to hold your sword in check when justice demands—this is the mark of a sovereign."
Zhang Liang offered a faint, approving smile. "Your restraint and clarity in the crisis at Poyang would have pleased the sages. You saw the people's suffering and acted for their welfare, not your own glory. Remember, virtue and strategy must walk together."
Hei Shan, arms folded, gave a curt nod. "You fought with honor. You protected those who needed it. And you saw the value in recruiting Gan Ning—a man who understands both the river and the hearts of desperate men. That's a leader's instinct."
Ming bowed his head, feeling the weight of their expectations. "I did what I thought was right. But the Fan family—can I trust them? They seem honorable, but—"
Empress Lü's lips curled in a knowing smile. "Even the purest jade can hide flaws. Never forget that every noble house has its own interests. Caution is wisdom, especially when power begins to shift."
Zhang Liang gestured to a vision of the administrator's office, its ledgers and secret compartments untouched. "You must secure evidence of Wang Shu's corruption. Without proof, your authority will always be questioned—by the people, by potential rivals, and by Changsha itself."
Hei Shan's voice was gruff. "Don't let your guard down. The city's calm is fragile. Food shortages, unrest, old grudges—these are enemies as real as any blade."
Ming nodded. "It's nearly planting season. If we can't feed the people, no amount of justice will matter."
Zhang Liang's eyes glinted. "Use every connection you have—noble, merchant, or scholar. There are allies waiting, even if their hands are hidden for now. Think of Mei Ying's merchant ties, or the young scholar Lu Su. But wisdom is knowing when to ask, and when to wait."
The world of dreams faded, and Zhao Ming awoke in the pre-dawn hush of the Fan family compound. The air was cool, the city outside still wrapped in the silence that comes before the first rooster's call. He lay for a moment, letting his mind settle after the night's spiritual consultation. The advice of the ancient spirits lingered: trust must be earned, not given blindly, and the burdens of rule were only beginning.
He dressed quietly, careful not to disturb the household. As he stepped into the corridor, a night-duty servant bowed low, eyes wide with respect.
"Is there anything you require, Young Master?"
"I'd like some air. Where might I walk without disturbing the household?"
The servant gestured toward a side door. "The garden, just beyond the courtyard, is peaceful at this hour."
Ming nodded his thanks and slipped outside. The Fan family's garden was a tranquil maze of winding stone paths, budding plum trees, and still ponds reflecting the faintest hints of dawn. He walked slowly, letting the scents of earth and new blossoms clear his thoughts.
At the far end of a willow-shaded path, he found Fan Wei, already awake, sword sheathed at his side, hands clasped behind his back. The young officer's posture was relaxed but alert, his gaze fixed on the eastern sky.
"Couldn't sleep?" Ming asked quietly.
Fan Wei smiled, a little ruefully. "Too much to do. Too much to worry about. I imagine you feel the same."
They stood together, listening to the distant sounds of the city stirring—merchants setting up stalls, the faint clatter of a cartwheel, the first calls of birds.
Ming broke the silence. "Poyang survived. But the real work begins now. The people are anxious. Food is scarce. I worry about unrest."
Fan Wei nodded, his expression thoughtful. "My father and I have discussed this. The fields need to be sown within the month. If we can't organize seed and labor, there'll be hunger by autumn. And the administrator's records—if we can prove his crimes, it will help calm the city. People need to see justice done."
Ming considered this, his mind already working through the challenges ahead. "I plan to search Wang Shu's office today. There may be evidence—ledgers, letters, bribes. I'll need your help to organize the search, and to keep the city calm while we work."
Fan Wei's eyes shone with determination. "You have it. The Fan family will stand behind you, but… my father is right. We must be careful. There are still those loyal to the old order, and news from Changsha will come sooner or later."
They walked in silence for a moment, the sounds of the city slowly awakening around them.
"Do you think the empire can be saved?" Ming asked quietly. "Or are we just holding back the tide?"
Fan Wei's answer was thoughtful. "I don't know. But I do know that every field sown, every child fed, every injustice righted—these things matter, even if the world is falling apart. We can't control the empire, but we can govern here, now."
Ming smiled, feeling the burden lighten just a little. "Then let's begin. We need to show the people that order is restored, that justice will be done, and that no soldier will be allowed to abuse their authority."
Fan Wei nodded. "I'll speak with the city watch and our family's men. We'll double patrols in the market and granaries. If there's any hint of trouble, we'll address it quickly—and publicly. People need to see that the new administration is different."
Ming's gaze drifted to the east, where the first rays of sunlight crept over the city walls. "We'll need to send a notice to the public—reassure them that the troops are here to protect, not to plunder. Any soldier caught stealing or abusing civilians will be punished. I want that message clear."
Fan Wei's lips quirked in a wry smile. "That will win you both friends and enemies. But it's the right call."
Ming's mind turned to the practicalities of recovery. "We'll need to arrange the surrendered rebels into work teams. Most of them are farmers or laborers. If we can get them back to the fields, it will help both with food production and with reintegrating them into society."
Fan Wei's eyes lit up. "That's a good idea. Many of them only joined the rebellion because they were desperate. Give them a chance to work, to feed their families, and you'll win their loyalty."
"We'll need to check the seed stores," Ming continued. "If Wang Shu or his cronies stole or sold off the reserves, we'll have to find another source quickly. There are a few merchants in the city who might have supplies, but if it's not enough, I'll send letters to Changsha. Mei Ying's family has connections with several major grain merchants, and I know a young scholar, Lu Su, who's been organizing relief shipments for famine-stricken areas. If we can secure their help, it could make all the difference."
Fan Wei nodded in support. "That's wise. The people will feel more secure if they see supplies arriving from Changsha, and it will show them that this new administration has real support."
Ming made a mental note. "I'll draft the letters myself today. We'll offer fair payment, but make clear the urgency. If we act quickly, we might avoid a famine."
They continued their walk, passing under an archway adorned with carvings of cranes and pine trees. The garden's serenity contrasted with the weight of their responsibilities, but it also reminded Ming of what was at stake.
"Fan Wei," Ming said quietly, "I know your family has always served this city. If you see anything—any sign that my men are abusing their power, or that the people are growing restless—I want to hear it from you first. I can't rule through fear. I need trust."
Fan Wei's response was immediate and sincere. "You have my word. My loyalty is to Poyang and its people. If you govern justly, you'll have our support. If you stray, I'll tell you to your face."
Ming laughed, the sound easing some of the tension in his shoulders. "That's exactly what I need."
They paused at a small pavilion overlooking a koi pond. The water was still, the fish moving lazily beneath the surface. Fan Wei leaned on the railing, his gaze distant.
"My father worries about the future," he admitted. "He's seen too many good men fall to politics, too many families ruined by shifting alliances. He wants to step back, let the younger generation take over. But he also fears what might happen if we move too quickly."
Ming nodded. "Change is always dangerous. But if we wait for the perfect moment, we'll never act. We have a chance now—before Changsha sends new orders, before the old networks reassert themselves."
Fan Wei turned to him, eyes serious. "Then let's not waste it. Today, we check the administrator's office, arrange the rebels for farming, and assess the seed stores. I'll have my father's stewards prepare an inventory. We'll meet with Gan Ning, Liu, and Chen after breakfast to finalize the plan."
Ming agreed. "We'll also need to send a public notice—something reassuring, but firm. I'll draft it after our meeting."
They stood together as the sun rose, casting golden light over the city. For a moment, Ming allowed himself to hope—not just for survival, but for renewal.
Later That Morning
The Fan family's main hall buzzed with quiet urgency as Ming, Fan Wei, Gan Ning, Sergeant Liu, and Sergeant Chen gathered around a low table covered in maps and ledgers.
Fan Wei opened the meeting. "Our first priority is the administrator's office. If Wang Shu left behind any records, they'll be there. We need to secure them before anyone else can tamper with the evidence."
Gan Ning, arms folded, nodded. "My men can help guard the building. We know most of the city's back alleys—if any of Wang Shu's cronies try to sneak in, we'll catch them."
Sergeant Liu added, "I'll assign trusted soldiers to assist. We'll keep the search orderly and ensure nothing is removed without your approval, Young Master."
Ming turned to Chen. "What about the surrendered rebels?"
Chen responded, "We've already separated the most dangerous elements from the rest. The majority are local farmers and laborers. If we organize them into work teams, supervised by our men and Fan Wei's people, we can get the fields ready for planting. It'll also keep them occupied and out of trouble."
Ming nodded. "We'll need to check the seed stores immediately. If there's a shortage, we'll have to request supplies from Changsha. I'll draft letters today—one to Mei Ying's family, one to Lu Su. We'll offer fair payment, but emphasize the urgency. If we can secure enough seed and tools, we might avoid a famine."
Gan Ning added, "My men can help distribute supplies and keep order in the markets. The people know us, and they'll listen if we say the new administration is serious about justice."
Ming considered the broader picture. "We'll also need to send a notice to the public. Reassure them that the city is under new management, that food and safety are our priorities, and that any soldier or official caught abusing their power will be punished. I want patrols doubled in the markets and granaries, and I want every household to know they can report grievances without fear."
Sergeant Chen saluted. "Consider it done, Young Master."
Fan Wei summarized, "Once we've finished the preliminary checks—administrator's office, rebel arrangements, seed stores—we'll reconvene to discuss the next steps. There's still the matter of tax policy, trade, and longer-term security, but those can wait until we've stabilized the basics."
Ming agreed. "Let's move quickly. The sooner we act, the sooner the people will believe in this new order."
The meeting broke up, each leader heading off to their assigned tasks. Ming lingered a moment, watching the sunlight spill across the maps. He felt the weight of responsibility, but also a sense of purpose. For the first time since leaving Changsha, he believed that real change was possible.