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Li Ru had been plagued by an inexplicable sense of irritation lately, a feeling that lingered in his heart and refused to dissipate.
On the surface, everything seemed to be progressing according to his plans, yet he couldn't shake the nagging sense that something was amiss, leaving him unsettled.
Compared to when he had first arrived in Luoyang, Li Ru had grown noticeably thinner. After all, he now had to oversee not only the affairs of the imperial court but also the daily needs of the Liangzhou army—down to the most trivial matters.
The eastern gentry clans had always been troublesome, and now, Dong Zhuo's recent behavior had become increasingly unpredictable, leaving Li Ru at a loss.
Li Ru had never encountered such a situation before and couldn't determine whether Dong Zhuo's current state was for better or worse.
Initially, Li Ru had worried that Dong Zhuo might fall into a trap of indulgence, unable to extricate himself from the pleasures of the flesh. However, based on his observations, Dong Zhuo had not developed any real attachment to the beauties around him—at most, he treated them as personal playthings.
This realization eased Li Ru's concerns somewhat. After all, as long as no emotional bonds formed, even the most captivating playthings would eventually lose their appeal.
But now, Dong Zhuo seemed to have become—
Unusually perceptive? Possessing extraordinary decisiveness?
Li Ru struggled to describe Dong Zhuo's current state. If he had to simplify it, it was as if Dong Zhuo had gained an instinctive ability to grasp the essence of even the most complicated matters.
His decisiveness sometimes startled Li Ru. His mind seemed sharper than ever, often requiring little explanation before he understood the situation and made impeccably correct judgments. The recent decision to move the capital, for instance, had ultimately been Dong Zhuo's call.
Relocating the capital had originally been just an idea of Li Ru's. Given the immense difficulty of such an undertaking, Li Ru had prepared a long list of justifications and explanations for Dong Zhuo's potential questions. Yet, to his surprise, Dong Zhuo had pondered for only a brief moment before agreeing—without asking a single question.
This reminded Li Ru of the Dong Zhuo of years past, when he had been a minor official in Liangzhou, commanding only a few hundred men of the Imperial Guard. Back then, he had displayed the same boldness, and now, it seemed as though that ambitious Dong Zhuo had returned.
However, what troubled Li Ru was that Dong Zhuo's temper had grown increasingly violent. Smashing objects was considered mild—several of his close attendants had already been executed for various reasons.
Perhaps the overwhelming pressure of managing countless affairs had taken its toll.
Even Li Ru himself occasionally felt physically drained. Given the current state of affairs, the situation was far from optimistic. Yet, as a leader, Dong Zhuo bore the pressure silently, venting only through occasional outbursts rather than interfering excessively or complaining. This made Li Ru feel that Dong Zhuo still trusted him deeply.
Take the present circumstances, for example. Noticing that the political winds seemed to be shifting, some of the local gentry around Luoyang had begun hoarding grain, refusing to sell their stockpiles.
After all, Luoyang now had to feed not only its own population but also supply provisions for Dong Zhuo's troops from Liangzhou and Bingzhou. The consumption of food and fodder over the past few months had been staggering.
The public granaries in Luoyang were nearly depleted, while most of the remaining grain was stored in the fortified manors of the local gentry and aristocratic families.
With the spring planting season approaching, these local magnates seized the opportunity to drive up grain prices, partly as part of their usual money-making schemes but also because many of them had begun to lose faith in Dong Zhuo's rule.
Li Ru had considered arresting a few minor figures to make an example of them, but he knew that wouldn't solve the root of the problem. Instead, he took a more drastic approach—sending men to dig up graves in the Beimang Mountains.
The Beimang Mountains had long been regarded as prime burial grounds due to their excellent feng shui. The terrain was favorable, close to Luoyang, and surrounded by mountains and rivers, making it an ideal resting place for the wealthy and noble.
The Han dynasty placed great importance on burial customs—so much so that people were willing to sell their land to afford a proper funeral. As a result, the tombs beneath the earth held considerable wealth.
The true purpose of this move, however, wasn't just to unearth treasures but to send a clear message to the local gentry:
Since many of them had chosen the Beimang Mountains as their family burial grounds, if they refused to feed the living, they needn't worry about the peace of their ancestors. If they insisted on inflating grain prices, then the wealth of the dead would be used to buy food for the living!
The effect was immediate. Over the past few days, numerous people had come pleading for mercy, but Li Ru dismissed them all with the excuse that they were only excavating unclaimed land.
Thanks to the chaos caused by He Jin and the Yuan family in Luoyang, it was easy to claim that certain records had been lost in fires. Even if someone produced an original deed, a simple "no record found" would leave them speechless.
Those who were wise and complied early might receive slightly better treatment, but for those who stubbornly resisted—their reckoning would come eventually.
Li Ru's greatest concern now was the risk of the eastern coalition forces disrupting the relocation of the capital. If they were delayed, they would be forced to engage the coalition on unfavorable terrain near Luoyang—a scenario Li Ru wished to avoid at all costs.
For now, however, the situation still seemed within his control. The envoys sent to stall the eastern coalition had already arrived at Suanzao. The next step was to separately approach Yuan Shao and Yuan Shu.
If the capital could be fully relocated by the third month, all that would remain for the eastern coalition was an empty Luoyang!
From Hulao Pass to Tong Pass, the coalition would find nothing but desolation—no people, no grain, forcing them to transport all their supplies over long distances.
By then, the seemingly formidable eastern coalition would become nothing more than a laughingstock.
Though this strategy would inevitably lead to the deaths of many innocents, Li Ru saw no alternative. Perhaps this was the source of his recent restlessness—knowing that his decisions would determine the fate of countless lives.
Yet, this was the swiftest solution. A quick, sharp pain was better than a prolonged one. Rather than allowing the eastern factions to rise up sporadically in rebellion, it was better to shatter their foundation in one decisive blow!
Li Ru's gaze was distant. The pieces were in place—now, it was up to the enemy to respond.
This was why Li Ru was called "the Venomous One."
*****
A/N: The relocation was set for the second month—traditionally the time for spring planting. The second day of the second month was known as "Dragon Raises Head," marking the awakening of the earth and the beginning of sowing.
By moving the capital and evacuating the entire population to Chang'an, what remained would not just be a year of abandoned farmland—but decades of desolation in the Luoyang region. It wasn't until Cao Cao's later years that four Agricultural Commandants, two Agricultural Officers, and three Agricultural Colonels were appointed to restore productivity in the small area of Henei and Sili.