Chapter 5: The Toast of Friendship

Chen Cong quickly dodged to avoid facing Cao Cao directly, declining his courtesy.

His mind raced as he weighed the situation.

It was obvious that Old Cao was tying him up in a bundle deal.

If he went along with it, he would instantly become Cao Cao’s son-in-law and trusted confidant, as well as one of the most senior elders in the household.

No, not just an elder. As an in-law, he would even leap to become a shareholder in the Cao Wei enterprise.

The price: marrying a certain Cao Rong whom he had never met.

Regardless of whether Cao Rong was tall or short, fat or thin, beautiful, plain, or flawed, the position of principal wife would never change. No matter what merits he might establish in the future or how high a rank he might achieve, the title could only be inherited by the legitimate son of the two.

Otherwise...

He could serve only as a minister to the Cao family, not as Cao Cao’s son-in-law.

But then, the position of shareholder would certainly be out of reach.

Nepotism, however much the world may despise it, remained the most stable bond of interest in these times.

This was precisely the essential difference between the Five Elite Generals and the Eight Tiger Cavalry.

No matter how dazzling the former’s achievements or reputation, without that extra layer of connection, there was no way to truly enter the inner circle of Cao Wei and become a shareholder.

Was it not so? The post of Grand General in Cao Wei rotated among Xiahou Dun, Cao Ren, and Cao Zhen, while even the relatively obscure Cao Hong was appointed General of Agile Cavalry, a rank equal to the Three Excellencies.

Though Zhang Liao, the famed general who routed Sun Quan’s army and was later enshrined in the Temple of Martial Virtue, only ended up as a mere Front General.

Of course, Front General was no minor position, but compared to General of Agile Cavalry...

It was difficult to judge.

And if you compared Cao Hong with Zhang Liao...

Even harder to say.

Within a moment, Chen Cong had already made his decision.

Here was a father-in-law who asked for no dowry, no house, no job—he simply entrusted his daughter to you and earnestly plotted for your future. How could you then demand that his daughter be a peerless beauty?

Whatever her looks, if he didn’t like her, he could just keep her at home. Political marriages were a hallmark of the era—and so was taking concubines.

With this in mind, Chen Cong clasped his fists heavily, dropped to one knee, and said, “If you do not despise me, I would gladly devote my life in service—as your son-in-law.” (He almost slipped and called it a sworn brotherhood, but caught himself in time.)

The word “son-in-law” made Cao Cao beam with joy, his face flushing red with excitement.

As for “devote my life in service,” it made Cao Cao feel a thrill from head to toe.

He hurried forward to help Chen Cong up, repeating “Excellent!” nine times in a row.

Perhaps, aside from “Excellent!”, Cao Cao simply didn’t know how else to express his excitement at that moment.

Such a fierce hero—just hearing of him was rare enough, but to have him as kin, what good fortune!

He resolved to visit his ancestral home in Qiao County soon, to see if the family tombs were still there, and hoped they hadn’t burned down...

...

A jug of old wine was soon emptied, but neither man was satisfied.

Cao Cao simply took Chen Cong to his study, brought out two large jars of his finest brew, set up another round, and called for the kitchen to prepare some snacks.

After three rounds of drinks and five flavors of dishes, the forms of address gradually shifted from “Father-in-law” and “Worthy Son-in-law” to “Brother Chao” and “Brother Cong.” The relationship between the two warmed rapidly.

Men’s friendships are often that simple.

If you take a liking to each other, share a few drinks, see each other at your worst, and know each other’s strengths and weaknesses, you become close as brothers.

If you don’t take a liking, you wouldn’t even sit down for a drink together.

Unfortunately, Chen Cong’s capacity for alcohol didn’t seem to match his extraordinary physique.

Though the wine was not strong, after several rounds, his tongue was starting to get thick.

“Brother Chao, to tell the trush—er, truth, I haven’t even seen Lady Cao. Your arrangement is fine, but if she doesn’t like me, you can’t blame me.”

Cao Cao was startled by this and sobered up considerably.

He had assumed that Chen Cong and Cao Rong had feelings for each other, and that his beauty ploy had worked, prompting Chen Cong’s immediate acceptance.

But now it was clear that wasn’t the case at all!

From Chen Cong’s words, it sounded like his unlucky daughter had picked the man up and dumped him in the woodshed, then vanished?

Yet she had inscribed those scholarly verses? It was all a bit surreal.

“So, Brother Cong, you have no desire for my daughter’s beauty, and yet you’re still willing to help me?”

“Hey, Brother Chao, what are you saying? You’re the true great man here!”

Like a sip of iced liquor in the dog days of summer, Cao Cao felt his soul float away contentedly.

The world called him a traitor and a hound of the throne, but only his son-in-law had the eyes to recognize a hero—how could he not feel elated?

He waved his hand grandly. “Brother Cong, there’s no need to worry! Matches are made by parents’ orders and go-betweens’ words—how can she be allowed to have her own way? If she does not comply, I have ways to deal with her. I have another daughter, Cao Fu; if you’re not satisfied with Cao Rong, you can switch at any time!”

Whoa!

Catching the main point, Chen Cong sprang up from the desk as if resurrected.

Such a generous father-in-law—he could get along with him!

But who was Cao Fu?

Previously, Chen Cong had simply assumed that Cao Rong was the eldest daughter, the Princess of Qinghe, whose actual name was never recorded.

And, based on the marital discord between Princess Qinghe and Xiahou Mao, the son of Xiahou Dun, he had concluded that Cao Rong’s looks were probably mediocre.

He vaguely remembered the Book of Wei recording: “When Mao was in the west, he kept many concubines, so the princess was at odds with him.”

Think about it: if Xiahou Mao’s legitimate wife was even a little attractive, and being the boss’s daughter to boot, would he really act like a lustful ghost, taking several or even more than a dozen concubines every time he traveled?

Now, a new problem had arisen.

If Cao Fu was the Princess of Qinghe, then who was Cao Rong?

Chen Cong was already confused, and this twist made it worse, so he decided to ask directly.

“Ahem, Brother Chao, forgive my prying, but I just want to know—who is the eldest daughter, and who is Miss Cao Fu?”

Cao Cao laughed. “I guarantee you won’t be shortchanged. Rong’er is the legitimate daughter of your mother-in-law, sixteen years old, gentle, frugal, and beautiful. As for Fu’er…her mother died young, so she was raised by your mother-in-law and is also counted as a legitimate daughter—she’s quite adorable, but only nine years old...”

“All right, Brother Chao!” Chen Cong hurried to interrupt him. Any more and he would feel like a beast.

At the same time, a vague idea formed in Chen Cong’s mind.

His fiancée, Cao Rong, should not be the Princess of Qinghe who, together with her younger brother, overstepped her bounds and harmed her husband.

First, the mothers didn’t match. Princess Qinghe’s mother should have been Lady Liu, not Lady Ding.

Second, the ages didn’t match. Princess Qinghe married Xiahou Mao in the early years of Jian’an—seven or eight years later. By then, Cao Rong would be twenty-three or twenty-four, clearly past the typical marrying age at the end of the Han.

But if his fiancée was Lady Ding’s legitimate daughter, that raised an even bigger issue—she might not live much longer.

Because, aside from dying young, Chen Cong really couldn’t think of any other reason why the legitimate eldest daughter of Emperor Wu of Wei would leave no mark in history.

Though, this was also due to the times.

On the one hand, no historian would spend much ink on women.

What’s more, the histories were compiled more than a hundred years later, so omissions, errors, and ambiguities—or just not recording things at all—were all possible.

On the other hand, women’s given names were not made known to outsiders.

Among Cao Cao’s daughters, aside from the three married to the young emperor Liu Xie, neither Princess Anyang nor Princess Jinxiang left their actual names to posterity.