Chapter 149: Prodigy’s Hint

On the following day, in a bright three-story attic of the Wu residence, Cao Hong held a coming-of-age ceremony for Wu Zhi, bestowing upon him the courtesy name Jizhong, which was historically known to be Wu Zhi’s courtesy name.

This coming-of-age ceremony attracted all those in Dingtao with even modest wealth; some came to honor the Wu family, others to curry favor with Cao Hong, the renowned martial commander. Because of their intentions, an awkward scene unfolded: Cao Hong received more gifts than expected, many of which were silks, jade, and other feminine ornaments. It was clear these guests knew Cao Hong had three wives and thus focused their offerings on items appealing to women.

Women’s accessories are never in short supply, but men’s gifts are another matter. This timeless truth, which flows freely in the twenty-first century, was evidently just as valid two thousand years ago.

At a time when the imperial court was in disarray and official positions were openly bought and sold, gift-giving at official gatherings became commonplace. Cao Hong had no reason to refuse such goodwill. Even his uncle Cao Ding, known for his integrity in Wu Commandery, would not have turned away gifts from the four great families of Wu Commandery; it was the inevitable trend.

After the ceremony, Cao Hong stayed for a banquet at the Wu residence. Afterwards, he invited Wu Zhi to the study to impart his teachings privately—though in truth, he simply wished to converse with Wu Zhi.

The study was filled with numerous books and featured a wooden couch by the window with a small table holding a chessboard and two stone bowls filled with chess pieces.

Cao Hong sat on the left side of the chessboard, while Wu Zhi stood properly before him. Cao Hong smiled and asked, “Jizhong, do you enjoy playing chess?”

Wu Zhi replied, “I understand it a little.”

Cao Hong smiled again and inquired, “What books have you read?”

Wu Zhi answered, “I have read through both ancient and modern classics in the house.”

Cao Hong was taken aback. The collection must have numbered in the thousands—he wondered if Wu Zhi had truly read them all. He casually picked up a copy of Sima Qian’s Records of the Grand Historian and asked, “Have you read the Hongmen Banquet chapter?”

Wu Zhi responded, “I can recite it backwards.”

Cao Hong had him recite it, and the boy delivered the passage without a single error. Then Cao Hong handed him a copy of Qu Yuan’s “Li Sao” and requested he recite a section; again, Wu Zhi recited flawlessly.

Finally, Cao Hong tested him with He Xiu’s commentaries on the “Guliang” and “Gongyang” texts. The results were equally precise.

Setting the books aside, Cao Hong smiled and said, “Jizhong, you are truly erudite and talented. Excellent. With you by Zixiu’s side, I am much more at ease.”

Wu Zhi cupped his hands and replied, “I will give my utmost effort.”

Cao Hong nodded and casually asked, “Jizhong, you are only fifteen, yet you have thoroughly studied ancient and modern texts. You could be called a prodigy, couldn’t you?”

Wu Zhi’s demeanor reminded Cao Hong of a prodigy from the Three Kingdoms period—the son of Cao Cao, Cao Chong—famous only for the story of weighing an elephant, who apparently died in his teens. Cao Hong knew nothing of his other achievements. Compared to modern students, Wu Zhi’s ability to recite so many classics was exceptional, prompting the question of whether he could be deemed a prodigy.

Yet Wu Zhi humbly replied, “I merely enjoy reading and study diligently. If one speaks of prodigies, there is one in Yanzhou.”

Cao Hong asked, “Who?”

Wu Zhi answered, “His name is Wang Can, courtesy name Zhongxuan. He is from Shanyang Commandery in Yanzhou and is my peer. Not only does he have an eidetic memory, but he is also skilled in arithmetic, writing, poetry, essays, and debate. His grandfather Wang Chang served as Minister over the Masses during Emperor Ling’s reign. His father was the chief aide to the former Grand General He Jin. By thirteen, he had already gained fame in Luoyang and has likely followed the emperor westward to Chang’an.”

Cao Hong knew of Wang Can—the foremost of the Seven Scholars of Jian’an during the Three Kingdoms, whose literary style, along with the Cao family’s, defined the Jian’an literary spirit. Wang Can was highly esteemed by Cao Pi and his brother Cao Zhi, forming close friendships.

Cao Hong recalled a humorous story involving Cao Pi and Wang Can. When Wang Can died young, Emperor Cao Pi led officials to his grave and wept bitterly. Then, he said, “Zhongxuan loved the braying of donkeys. Let us bray one last time for him!” Leading the way, he brayed loudly, and the officials followed, filling Wang Can’s tomb with loud donkey brays.

This anecdote, recorded in the “A New Account of the Tales of the World,” illustrated their friendship. Cao Zhi also composed an elegy for Wang Can, underscoring the bond between these friends.

“Ah, so this fellow is from Yanzhou. Such a pity he’s in Chang’an; otherwise, recruiting him would be a delight,” Cao Hong thought, then asked Wu Zhi, “Besides reading, what else do you enjoy?”

Wu Zhi replied, “I like visiting taverns and marketplaces to hear rumors, especially news from nearby commanderies, which I use to gauge the stability of Jiyin.”

Cao Hong asked, “Have you heard any significant news recently?”

Wu Zhi responded, “The most important is that the rebel Dong died in Chang’an. But I think Chang’an is far and does not directly affect Jiyin. There is another piece of news that impacts Jiyin greatly.”

Cao Hong inquired, “What is it?”

Wu Zhi said, “Last early summer, Sun Wentai, Inspector of Yuzhou, under orders from General Yuan Shu, attacked Jingzhou’s Liu Biao. He was defeated and killed by Huang Zu, the Governor of Jiangxia, outside Xiang Mountain near Jiangxia City.”

Hearing this, Cao Hong’s eyelid twitched. Sun Jian, too, could not escape history’s course—he died last year. Cao Hong, busy with battles and training, had not heard this and had paid little attention to the fate of this ally. Now, hearing it stirred some emotion. He had taken part in the coalition against Dong but had never met this ally, which was a regret.

Reflecting on this, Cao Hong asked, “How does his death relate to the safety of Jiyin?”

Wu Zhi explained, “Sun Jian and Yuan Shu united their forces, formidable in strength. Sun Jian, as Inspector of Yuzhou, neighbored Jiyin, making Jiyin’s safety uncertain with such a powerful neighbor. But now, with Sun Jian’s death, the trusted Inspector Guo Gong, though appointed by Yuan Shu, is a product of the Yingchuan Academy and supported by the Yuzhou elite. He is not strictly subordinate to Yuan Shu and, allied with Xun Wenruo of the Yingchuan Academy under Cao Cao’s command, won’t rashly attack. Thus, Sun Jian’s death means Jiyin is secure.”

Cao Hong nodded thoughtfully. For a fifteen-year-old to perceive so clearly was remarkable. Yet if it were men like Liu Ye or Xun Yu, they would foresee troubles between Sun Jian’s former followers and Yuan Shu. After all, Sun Jian had brought all his retainers under Yuan Shu, but while dependent on Yuan Shu for supplies, their relationship resembled shareholders and executives, not mere subordinates. Thus, with Sun Jian gone, his old followers would seek to separate from Yuan Shu—as Sun Jian’s son Sun Ce eventually did.

Cao Hong, knowing this history, connected the dots when Wu Zhi mentioned the conflict between Sun Jian and Yuan Shu. He recalled the battle in the fourth year of Chuping (193 AD), where Cao Cao decisively defeated Yuan Shu—a victory inseparable from Yuan Shu’s loss of Sun Jian. Had Sun Jian defeated Liu Biao and joined Yuan Shu to attack Cao Cao, the outcome would have been uncertain.

Wu Zhi’s attention to Yuzhou indicated his concern over a potential attack by Yuan Shu and Sun Jian on Yanzhou. Jiyin was the gateway to Yanzhou from the north and the only route for Yuan Shu to invade Jiyin Commandery.

“So Yuan Shu will attack me next year? Is this why Cao Cao sent me to garrison here? But neither Cao Cao nor Liu Ye or Xun Yu knows exactly when Yuan Shu will strike, or even if he will attack Yanzhou at all. They merely suspect and thus stationed me here as a precaution,” Cao Hong thought.

If so, it meant he was Cao Cao’s most trusted general. Cao Cao, nominally allied with Yuan Shao, could not guard the north; he had no quarrel with Tao Qian, and had no plans to confront Gongsun Zan in Qingzhou. Therefore, Yuan Shu was his greatest threat. Stationing troops in Jiyin Commandery was a natural move.

The best candidate for this task was undoubtedly Cao Hong, who had once extorted a hefty sum from Yuan Shu. Yuan Shu, upon learning that Cao Hong guarded the gateway of Jiyin, would be infuriated and likely launch a major campaign to punish him. Anger leads to mistakes, which was precisely what Cao Cao hoped for.

“How did I not realize this before? No wonder Liu Ye smiled at me so knowingly. If I hadn’t heard Wu Zhi today mention Sun Jian, Yuan Shu, and Jiyin’s safety, I might have forgotten that Cao Cao and Yuan Shu will battle next year! And I’m on the front line! Liu Ye’s smile was to congratulate me—once again promoted to vanguard! Another chance to achieve merit! Damn, I’m really slow to catch on!” Cao Hong cursed himself inwardly.

Wu Zhi saw Cao Hong’s silence and dared not speak, standing respectfully.

After a moment, Cao Hong took a deep breath and said, “Jizhong, I value you greatly. You must study hard with the eldest son. In time, you will surely become his trusted confidant. I say this plainly; with your wisdom, you will understand.”

Wu Zhi’s eyes twitched, realizing the implication. He replied, “Jizhong understands.”

“Good! That’s good! I will not leave Dingtao soon. I also entrust your father to take good care of the General’s residence.” With that, Cao Hong rose and departed.