Chapter Twenty-Two: Meeting Liu Ye, Playing Hard to Get
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As the sun set and dusk fell,
Lujiang Commandery, within the city of Wan.
Wan, governed by Liu Xun, a prominent general under Yuan Shu, was considered prosperous—certainly more so than Shouchun at present. Yet, as Yuan Shu declared himself emperor, Liu Xun had begun contemplating independence.
Though the historical records do not detail this, it is evident that after Yuan Shu suffered successive defeats and before his death, Liu Xun had ceased to obey him. Even Lei Bo, whom Yuan Shu sought refuge with in the mountains, did not come to Lujiang to join Liu Xun.
Indeed, after Yuan Shu's death, Liu Xun immediately sent men to plunder his wife, children, and retainers.
As for Liu Ye, a descendant of the imperial Han, he had taken refuge here and gained some local reputation. Later, because he joined Cao Cao's camp rather late, he had few opportunities to distinguish himself. Yet his insight into affairs was remarkable, most famously when Cao Cao took Hanzhong. Liu Ye remarked that Cao Cao's power shook the realm, and though Shu had just been settled and the people were uneasy, it could be conquered in one swift campaign. If delayed, with Zhuge Liang's adept governance and Guan and Zhang's military prowess, it would be unattainable—a missed opportunity, for Cao Cao did not heed his advice.
Later, those who surrendered from Shu confirmed that after Cao Cao seized Hanzhong, the people of Shu were startled dozens of times a day, exactly as Liu Ye had predicted. Every suggestion he made after entering office proved wise and effective. Thus his name spread alongside Cheng Yu and Guo Jia.
...
At this moment, outside Liu’s manor.
Having received word from a servant, Liu Ye hurriedly came to greet an old friend, calling out urgently, “Zijing, why did you not send a letter ahead of your arrival?”
“Ah, I did not wish to trouble you, Ziyang. Yet I possess a rare item I thought might interest you,” Lu Su replied with a touch of emotion.
“What item?” Liu Ye asked, intrigued.
“There are too many eyes about; let us speak inside,” Lu Su suggested.
Soon, in the side hall,
Lu Su knelt and took a sip of tea. Liu Ye, his curiosity piqued, pressed, “Zijing, what is it that brought you here in person?”
“Ziyang, my lord has cultivated a crop called the potato. Its yield per acre is twenty or thirty bushels, and with proper care, it can be planted twice a year,” Lu Su replied, stroking his beard with a smile.
Liu Ye was momentarily stunned—the information was overwhelming. Lu Su had pledged loyalty to a new master?
Thinking this through, Liu Ye raised an eyebrow, smiling wryly, “Zijing, you aren’t here as a persuader, are you? Why else speak of such fantastical things?”
Lu Su laughed, for indeed, that was his intention. “To be frank, I do wish it. My lord is strict with his troops, respects the worthy, treats the people well. With our talents, assisting him would surely lead to great achievements—and our names would be recorded in history.”
Lu Su finished, but Liu Ye offered no response.
His status was exceptional—a descendant of the imperial Han, illustrious. Even Yuan Shu, of four generations of high office, was insignificant before him.
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Seeing this, Lu Su continued, helplessly,
“Ziyang, what I said is not empty talk. My lord has not only the high-yield crop, but also a repeating crossbow capable of firing ten bolts, and cloth armor impervious to blades and spears.”
“But today, I am not here to persuade you—I simply wish for you to accompany me to view this world-changing marvel. Is that agreeable?” Lu Su did not press further, retreating a step.
“Are these things real?”
Liu Ye eyed Lu Su with suspicion.
“They are real. I saw them myself,” Lu Su asserted convincingly.
“Heh, very well. Since you came in person, I shall accompany you to see them,” Liu Ye replied with a light laugh, though his skepticism remained.
If such a crop truly existed, would the world suffer famine—children exchanged for food, bones scattered across the land? Would there have been the Yellow Turban Rebellion? Would the Han have teetered on the brink?
And so, the two continued their meal, conversing about curiosities past and present. Lu Su refrained from mentioning Chu Feng again, knowing it would only backfire; it was up to his lord to win Liu Ye himself.
...
At dusk the next day,
Lu Su returned with Liu Ye.
Upon meeting, Lu Su nodded, indicating he had failed to persuade, and with a look told his lord: you’ll have to handle this yourself; I can do no more.
Seeing this, Chu Feng began to plot.
Of course, he first settled them in comfortably. Yet Liu Ye was not the same as Lu Su; Chu Feng decided to employ a different approach.
The art of holding back to entice!
Thus, after arranging everything, Chu Feng did not exchange more than a few words with Liu Ye. It was as if he had no interest at all.
On the way back, Liu Ye had asked Lu Su why he had pledged loyalty so readily. Lu Su explained, and by rights, Chu Feng should have treated him the same.
Could it be... his talents were less than Lu Su’s?
The more he thought, the more annoyed Liu Ye became. He was quite angry that night. If Chu Feng treated Lu Su the same way, it would be fine, but the difference in treatment was glaring.
At dawn the next morning,
Lu Su and Liu Ye both rose early. Their eyes met, and Lu Su smiled, “Ziyang, how did the discussion with my lord go last night?”
Liu Ye: “!!!”
An innocent face—what discussion!
“Don’t mention it. Perhaps the journey wore me out—I slept soundly and didn’t hear any knocking,” Liu Ye sighed, giving himself an excuse.
Lu Su believed him; Liu Ye was baffled.
At that moment, Chu Feng strode in, looking at the pair and calling out loudly, “Ziyang, I forgot to ask yesterday—did you find the couch comfortable?”
“Thank you for your concern, Master Chu. It was quite comfortable!”
“I’m glad. When you return to Lujiang after your visit, I’ll have a fine sandalwood bed delivered to you. It is beneficial for sleep,” Chu Feng said smiling.
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Intent in the words, intent in the listening,
Liu Ye grew even more puzzled—there was no hint in Chu Feng’s words that he wished to recruit him. This left him deeply frustrated.
Such is the scholar’s dilemma.
It is like a beauty out shopping, encountering a column dedicated to interviewing women. The day before, the column host had chatted warmly with Lu, invited her for milk tea and hot pot. Then Lu recounted the experience to her friend. The next day, she visits, but the column group acts as if they do not see her—ignoring her completely. Such a contrast can easily drive one mad.
“Master Chu is too kind!” Liu Ye replied with a smile, though he harbored resentment, as if waiting for Chu Feng to honor his talents, only then would he feel satisfied.
“Come, let’s dig for potatoes.”
Chu Feng could sense Liu Ye’s mood.
...
A short while later, outside the manor,
They arrived at the fertile field where potatoes were planted—a total of four acres.
At a glance, the field was lush and green, the potato stalks vibrant, promising large, round tubers.
Seeing Chu Feng’s delight, Lu Su looked around in surprise, then asked, “My lord, is this the potato?”
Liu Ye: “???”
He was dumbfounded. This scoundrel had solemnly claimed to have seen it himself before coming—yet he didn’t even know what a potato looked like?
“How does it look? Quite impressive, isn’t it!” Chu Feng said happily, hands behind his back.
Lu Su: “???”
Liu Ye: “???”
Lu Su’s mouth twitched. With uncertainty, he said, “My lord, unless I am mistaken, these few acres are all vegetables.”
“And with just these, how could the yield per acre be twenty bushels?”
After speaking, Lu Su’s face flushed. He had boasted extravagantly to Liu Ye before arriving, never expecting his own lord would embarrass him so.
Judging by this growth, it likely wouldn’t even surpass wheat or millet yields!
Beside him, Liu Ye shook his head, as if he had expected it. After all, how could there possibly be a crop yielding twenty bushels per acre?
Only Lu Su believed it so thoroughly.
If it had been him, he would never believe it—even if his life depended on it.