Chapter 9: How Is the One-Word Shoulder-to-Shoulder King?

“Where am I ill?”
Lu Zhi was well aware of her own health; she was perfectly fine.
Moreover, she was a full fifteen years younger than Liu Bang—how could she possibly die before him?

“I say you are ill, so you are ill. From tomorrow, you will begin recuperation!” Liu Bang’s tone grew stern.
The commanding presence of the emperor was once again on display.

Lu Zhi remained silent, though a rare and strange feeling stirred within her heart.
All these years, when had Liu Bang ever cared for her?
Never once.

Back when she and Liu Bang’s father were paraded before the opposing armies by Xiang Yu, Liu Bang hadn’t even glanced her way.
He had even kicked her off the carriage.
Having such a man was no blessing.

Yet, she had not expected that today, Liu Bang, seemingly seized by some sudden whim, would come over to show concern for her.
Your Majesty, what on earth is going on?

Perhaps he truly has changed—growing old, learning how to be a husband, realizing the wrongs he had done in the past.
A faint warmth blossomed in Lu Zhi’s heart, but it was only a flicker. She was uncertain how long Liu Bang’s current attitude would last.

...

At dawn, the air was tinged with a subtle chill. Lu Zhi awoke much later than usual, perhaps due to the pleasant mood she had fallen asleep in. Liu Bang, on the other hand, rose early.

Seeing her still asleep, he hesitated, unwilling to disturb her. Dressed in fine attire, he quietly opened the door and closed it gently behind him.

In the Linhua Hall, the usual ministers were already assembled: Zhang Liang, Xiao He, Zhou Bo, and Chen Ping. Liu Bang, surveying the gathering, pondered briefly before saying, “Today, I will question Lu Xuan myself, along with the Marquis of Liu. You are to wait outside, listening to his insights.”

“Do not whisper among yourselves, lest you draw Lu Xuan’s suspicion.”

The ministers nodded and proceeded to the side chamber of Linhua Hall, a quiet room tucked away.

Zhang Liang ordered attendants to bring gourds of vegetables and steaming millet porridge, which he served himself. Zhou Bo, observing, could not help but remark, “Since he is from the future, why not provide better food?”

Is the Marquis of Liu really that stingy?

“Far Easterners wouldn’t be used to finer fare. These details must be observed,” Zhang Liang explained.

...

Knock, knock.
Zhang Liang gently rapped on the door, “Lord Lu, we have come to bring your meal.”

Inside, Lu Xuan had already awakened. Though he now had someone to tend to him daily, the attendant was mute and could not engage him in conversation.
He eagerly awaited the arrival of Uncle Ji and Uncle Fang.

Finally, they came!

The door creaked softly open. Zhang Liang placed the food on the table, then called the mute attendant to help Lu Xuan eat.

“Thank you all. When I reach the capital, I will find a way to repay you,” Lu Xuan said warmly.
His education had taught him the importance of gratitude, and ancient customs placed great emphasis on repaying kindness. These people saved him and cared for him daily—he would not forget.

“It’s nothing,” Zhang Liang replied kindly, then fetched two eggs, peeling them personally for Lu Xuan.

Lu Xuan ate heartily, having gone from disliking the taste to gradually accepting the food.
Hope was a boundless force.

Each day, Lu Xuan comforted himself with hopeful fantasies. One must always think positively; once he reached the capital, there would be plenty of delicious food awaiting him.

“By the way, Lord Lu, we have sent out the letter. But shouldn’t we advise the emperor on what official title to bestow upon this meritorious subject?”

Zhang Liang glanced at Lu Xuan, who was enjoying his meal, before asking.

“Ah? Just make him Grand Tutor, why else?”

Grand Tutor?

At present, the Han Dynasty had no such post, largely because no suitable candidate had been arranged.

During the Qin Dynasty, the Grand Tutor position existed, but it held no real authority. It was an honorary title bestowed upon esteemed or specially meritorious ministers. Unlike the Chancellor, who managed administrative affairs such as county governance and law enforcement, or the Grand Commandant, who oversaw military forces and command, the Grand Tutor wielded no actual power.

From the perspective of power distribution, Qin’s Three Lords and Nine Ministers system had the Chancellor in charge of administration, the Grand Commandant military affairs, and the Censor-General supervision.

The Grand Tutor was outside the core power trio, more a symbol of high prestige.

They were certain that if Han Xin were offered the Grand Tutor position, he might not accept.

“Lord Lu, throughout history many dynasties have risen and fallen. Could we perhaps create a new, highly prestigious title to grant this man?”

After pondering, Zhang Liang considered drawing inspiration from later dynasties’ official systems, hoping to find a precedent for a meritorious subject so eminent that the emperor was compelled to create a new rank.

“The demands are quite high...” Lu Xuan mused, chewing his egg and recalling various historical titles, searching for one suitable for Li Shanchang.

After thinking, he said, “You probably haven’t read many historical records, or you wouldn’t be asking me this. During the Tang Dynasty, there was the Supreme General of the Heavenly Strategy, known as the ‘One-Character Peerless King’; in the Song Dynasty, there was the ‘Chancellors of the Secretariat and the Chancellery’...”

Lu Xuan elaborated at length, then suggested, “I think the Song Dynasty’s ‘Chancellors of the Secretariat and the Chancellery’ is quite suitable. This official was one of the principal decision-makers, wielding immense power second only to the emperor. They managed administrative affairs, participated in state policy formulation and implementation, and shared civil and military authority with the Privy Council.”

“Oh, I almost forgot—the so-called ‘One-Character Peerless King’ never truly existed in history; it is a fictional title from novels and romances. You need not take it seriously.”

Liu Bang and Zhang Liang instinctively disregarded the latter part of Lu Xuan’s explanation, their minds fixated on the phrase ‘One-Character Peerless King.’

It seemed this title suited Han Xin perfectly.

Look at the name.

Supreme.

Unique.

Unparalleled.

Whether fictional or not, if it could be used, it would no longer be mere fiction.

“Could you elaborate on the ‘One-Character Peerless King’ title?” Liu Bang asked eagerly.

“Certainly, but it’s not from official history. Just take it as entertainment,” Lu Xuan replied without irritation. The two gentlemen’s willingness to talk with him for so long filled him with gratitude; blind days were hard, but these two made time pass more swiftly.

“Actually, the ‘One-Character Peerless King’ is a fictional noble rank common in historical romances, not found in real history. Novels often feature extraordinary characters and events, based on stories from ancient dynasties.”

“Generally, the ‘One-Character King’ title traces back to the Qin Dynasty, where it held no significant status difference from ‘Two-Character Kings.’ During the Liao Dynasty, ‘One-Character Kings’ were more prestigious. Over time, through Yuan and Ming folk stories, the ‘One-Character Peerless King’ emerged.”

“This title denotes a prince with a one-character name who could stand equal to the emperor—able to be on par with the supreme ruler. In novels such as ‘Romance of Sui and Tang’ and ‘Complete Romance of the Tang,’ heroes like Xue Rengui, Qin Shubao, Cheng Yaojin, and Pei Yuanqing were granted this title. In reality, however, Xue Rengui held the post of General of the Right Guard and Protector of the Eastern Frontier, titled Duke of Pingyang, not ‘One-Character Peerless King.’ Some folk operas and ballads also reference this fictional rank.”

“Apparently, these romances are quite popular in the Central Plains dynasties.”

“Back to the point: the ‘One-Character Peerless King’ was said to hold status equal to the emperor, able to refuse kneeling, even enter court bearing arms, and command military forces without imperial consent.”

Lu Xuan detailed the origin and powers attributed to this honorific. Zhang Liang pondered quietly, while Liu Bang’s thoughts raced.

Sometimes, the dignity of an official title could be discerned from its very name.

The ‘One-Character Peerless King’ title sounded supremely noble.

Though Lu Xuan viewed the powers ascribed in romances as unacceptable, no such office had existed before the Han Dynasty.

He proposed slight modifications, such as forbidding military command, which Han Xin would likely accept without objection.

Yes, the ‘One-Character Peerless King’ it would be.

Perfectly fitting for Han Xin.