Upon entering the city, Zhang Xin immediately set things in motion. He ordered Hu Cai to lead several hundred soldiers and craftsmen to take up residence in the county army camp. At the same time, Li Yue was tasked with escorting the grain and coin they had "borrowed" from Zhen to the Prefectural Governor's Residence.
Zhang Xin himself accompanied Deng Xing, going door to door to arrange lodging for the troops among the local populace. Any household willing to give up their home was compensated on the spot. Once word spread that Zhang Xin honored his promises, more families stepped forward willingly. With ample funds at his disposal, he accepted all offers without hesitation.
Zhen, after all, was one of the wealthiest men in Zhongshan, his estate overflowing with grain and coin. Zhang Xin had only "slightly requested"—ten thousand shi of grain and five hundred million coins, less than half of Zhen's reserves. Had transport not been limited, he would have taken even more. In Zhang Xin's view, such wealth had long been wrung from the common people, so he felt no guilt in reclaiming a portion of it.
By nightfall, the soldiers had been settled. Zhang Xin sent Deng Xing back to the county office while he headed for the Prefectural Governor's Residence. Yuyang housed both the county government and the prefectural administration within the same city, much like later provincial and municipal capitals.
Inside the residence, Li Yue had already arranged accommodations for Zhang Xin's household. Over twenty officials stood at the gate, each holding a broom—a Han Dynasty custom symbolizing that the residence had been cleaned and was ready to welcome its new master. Rows of maids knelt nearby.
Zhang Xin frowned slightly. "Who is in charge here?"
A man in his forties stepped forward. "My name is Chen Song, Agricultural Clerk."
Just an agricultural clerk? Zhang Xin recalled what he had learned of the Han administrative system. A prefecture should have a prefect, a chief clerk, and numerous ranked officials. Yet here, most had fled. The highest remaining authority was this minor official.
"When word of my army arrived, the officials abandoned the city—even the prefect fled. Why did you stay?" Zhang Xin asked.
Chen Song bowed nervously. "As Agricultural Clerk, I oversee the prefecture's farming affairs. If I left, next year's spring planting would be delayed."
Zhang Xin nodded approvingly. "A good official. From now on, you will oversee all remaining officials in this prefecture."
"Yes, sir."
Seeing the others trembling in the cold, Zhang Xin dismissed them. "Return and rest. Resume your duties tomorrow. There is nothing to fear."
After they left, he told Li Yue to rest as well before entering the residence himself. When a maid approached to assist him, he waved her off. "No need. All of you may retire."
In the rear courtyard, the Queen Mother had prepared a meal. Little Zhang Ning sat sleepily at the table, eating in small bites while propping her head up. Wang Jia and his sister stood nearby, holding a cloak.
The moment Zhang Xin appeared, Zhang Ning ran to him. "Brother!"
He laughed, lifting her up and playfully pinching her nose. After removing his armor with the Queen Mother's help, he sat down with her in his arms.
"Have you eaten?" he asked.
"We have," Wang Jia replied, draping the cloak over him.
Zhang Xin urged them to rest after their long and exhausting journey, but they insisted on staying. Understanding their sincerity, he stopped insisting and instead chatted with them casually.
After a while, Zhang Xin turned to Aunt Wang. "A-Jia's name is too ordinary. I'd like to change it."
He had already decided to cultivate the boy. With his current status as a rebel, recruiting renowned scholars or generals was nearly impossible—he would have to nurture his own talent. Wang Jia had shown courage in killing the Wuhuan prince; that alone made him worth training.
"What do you think?" Zhang Xin asked.
"Please bestow a name upon me, Lord," the boy said respectfully.
After a moment's thought, Zhang Xin smiled. "A fierce man possesses courage and magnanimity. From now on, you shall be called Wang Meng."
"Wang Meng…" the boy repeated softly, then bowed deeply. "Thank you, Lord."
"I will teach you to read and train in martial arts," Zhang Xin added. "I expect you to become someone capable."
Aunt Wang also bowed in gratitude.
"And your sister?" Zhang Xin asked.
"I have no name," she said quietly.
"Then you shall be called Wang Rou."
The names suited them well—one fierce, one gentle.
After the meal, Zhang Xin put Zhang Ning to bed, took a hot bath, and finally made his way quietly to Liu Hua's door. With a soft chuckle, he knocked.
"Sister Hua… open up. It's me."