Chapter Two: The Gift (Please Recommend and Bookmark)

Gao Ying and He Ruobi were both founding ministers and meritorious pillars of the Sui dynasty. Since Emperor Wen of Sui, Yang Jian, usurped the Zhou throne, renowned statesmen and famous generals emerged one after another. But if one were to speak of the most outstanding among them, Gao Ying alone deserved the honor.

Only, Gao Ying chose the wrong side in the struggle over the heir apparent.

Empress Dugu was still alive, and even she cherished Gao Ying’s talent. Repeatedly and with subtle hints, she hoped he would abandon the Crown Prince Yang Yong and instead support the then Prince of Jin, Yang Guang. But Gao Ying had ridden the tiger and could not dismount. Publicly and privately alike, he could not bring himself to forsake Yang Yong, and thus thoroughly enraged Empress Dugu. Her whispered influence was the most dreadful of things. Though Yang Jian valued Gao Ying greatly, he still, swayed by Empress Dugu’s instigation, removed him from office, and only then did Yang Guang smoothly become crown prince.

At the beginning of the Great Cause era, when Prince of Han Yang Liang rose in rebellion and the deposed heir showed signs of stirring, rumors also spread through the depths of the palace. Faced with troubles both within and without, Yang Guang reinstated Gao Ying and He Ruobi.

It was not that he truly valued their talents, but that in those circumstances, bringing them back into service could stabilize the situation to the greatest extent. Whether for the deposed heir or for the Eight Great Pillars, Gao Ying possessed immense deterrent power. It was precisely the restoration of Gao Ying and He Ruobi that brought stability to the Guanzhong region.

Only then could Yang Su, in the shortest possible time, crush Xiao Mohe, capture Yang Liang, and quell the rebellion of the soldiers and horses of Shandong.

Now the situation had grown steady.

Yang Guang’s imperial throne was secure; none could shake it.

Moreover, after ascending the throne, he followed the scheme of Pei Shiju to divide and disintegrate the states of the Western Regions, defeated Tuyuhun, and established the Four Commanderies. He could be counted as a capable ruler who expanded the realm. The earlier doubts about him gradually subsided. And the construction of the new capital, Luoyang, to some extent temporarily freed Yang Guang from the pressure of the Guanzhong aristocrats while strengthening his control over the great clans of the east.

Thus Gao Ying and He Ruobi became thorns in Yang Guang’s side.

This time Yang Guang traveled beyond the frontier and held a grand banquet for the nomads of the grasslands. Privately, Gao Ying and He Ruobi remarked that His Majesty was being far too extravagant.

And yet those very words reached Yang Guang’s ears.

Since I have been waiting for a chance to deal with you two, and now you have delivered yourselves to my door, a single charge of criticizing the court and overstepping your place would be enough to cost Gao Ying and He Ruobi their lives. Their wives and concubines would become servants, and all their clans would be exiled to the frontier. The two great aristocratic houses that had flourished since the founding of the reign would in an instant be reduced to nothing...

It is hard to say whether Yang Guang was right or wrong. The mind of an emperor is beyond the reach of ordinary men. Perhaps he was using such a method to warn those Guanzhong nobles.

A stand of green bamboo glowed brilliantly in the afternoon light of late autumn.

The day’s brightness was slowly retreating back toward the heavens. The sunlight that had just moments ago bathed the bamboo grove now fell only upon the taller blades of grass. The shadows of the bamboo on the western side had already stretched deep into the garden, making the grove seem even more secluded, with a touch of refined elegance.

Under the outer corridor of the bamboo house, clusters of yellow blossoms had opened on the dragon-tooth herbs. In the slanting western light, they lifted their heads and swayed with curious grace.

Autumn had wandered leisurely into dusk.

Zheng Yanqing sat lazily in a bamboo chair beneath the corridor, eyes closed, as if dozing, or perhaps listening to the autumn murmurs of the bamboo garden.

In the blink of an eye, nearly four years had passed since he wrote The Sorrow of Child Prodigy.

From a tender child, he had grown into a graceful youth. In those four years, many things had happened... yet it seemed none of them had the slightest connection to him. Amid all the attention from every quarter, he had never written another line of verse. Day after day, he either studied or practiced calligraphy, or rode a small pony and idled away his time beneath Dragon Gate Mountain, like a recluse lingering in the hills.

Outside, all manner of rumors circulated.

Some said that Halfway-King had exhausted his talent, just as he himself had said in The Sorrow of Child Prodigy: he had become no different from ordinary men.

Others said that Halfway-King was merely gathering himself, storing up an even stronger and more blazing brilliance of talent, and that once it burst forth it would surely startle the world...

But no matter what others said, Zheng Yanqing paid them no heed.

In the second year of Great Cause, that is, in the middle of last year, Emperor Yang Guang of Sui formally established the imperial examinations and opened the Jinshi degree in Chang'an.

Du Ruhui, returning to his hometown at his father’s command, earned a first-class assessment with his essay On the Mean and became one of the first Jinshi of the Great Cause era. To be precise, On the Mean was born from Zheng Yanqing’s discourse On the Original Way, and many of its arguments were the same. So much so that many people jokingly said Du Ruhui had studied under Halfway-King. Yet it could not be denied that On the Mean did indeed contain real substance.

In the first year of Great Cause, Du Guo retired from office because of ill health.

The Du family’s influence no longer matched what it had once been. Though Du Ruhui’s father, Du Cha, still held the post of Chief Clerk of Changzhou, he had gone years without promotion, and his prospects were plainly dim. Du Ruhui’s success in the examinations was undoubtedly of immense benefit to the Du clan. Precisely because of his success, Du Guo’s younger son, Du Yan, Du Ruhui’s uncle, was smoothly admitted to the Imperial Academy. So long as the realm remained stable, Du Yan would sooner or later win some distinction, and then the Du family would no longer fear storm or wind.

After passing the Jinshi examination, Du Ruhui was appointed as a registrar of Chang’an County.

With official rank to his name, Du Ruhui could no longer live as freely as before. Urged on by his family, he had no choice but to bid farewell to Yanqing and go take up his post in Chang’an County. His departure left Yanqing’s days with far less amusement. Yet as Master Su Dongpo once wrote: the moon has its wax and wane, people have sorrow and joy, reunion and parting; such things were never easy to make complete.

Only through parting can there be reunion.

Yanqing no longer remembered whether the Du Ruhui of history had ever passed the Jinshi examination, but seeing him make such progress now filled his heart with delight. After years of companionship, Du Ruhui’s edge was gradually showing. His decisiveness was there, and his writing carried a more seasoned quality. Perhaps he was slowly drawing nearer to the Du Ruhui of history, the man known for “schemes from Fang and decisions from Du.”

A sharp clatter of hooves startled Yanqing from his quiet dream.

He opened his eyes and rose from the bamboo chair; the light blanket slid to the ground from his shoulders.

So it was the little maid who had covered him again. Zheng Yanqing stretched, then turned and glanced into the bamboo house. By now, the girl should have been in the kitchen, busy with Sister Mao over dinner. These past two days they had both been acting mysteriously, which made things seem somewhat strange. If one were to speak plainly, Mao Ya was older than Yanqing, but to him she was still a little sprite.

He rubbed his nose, bent to pick up the thin blanket, and placed it back on the bamboo chair.

As Yanqing stepped down from the corridor, a fine white horse trotted up to him, tossing its head and tail and snorting softly.

“Ha, back from your walk!”

The white dragon horse that Zhang Zhongjian had given Yanqing had now grown into a tall, powerful steed.

It usually strolled around the bamboo garden, and Yanqing never restrained it much. The little colt had become a great horse, and with its four hooves as white as jade, it ran like a hawk taking wing. So Yanqing gave this white horse a fine name: Jade Hoofed Beauty.

In history, Li Shimin, the Tang Taizong, had eight fine steeds, and among them was one called White Hoofed Crow.

Zheng Yanqing was simply learning by use and analogy, naming his own white dragon steed Jade Hoofed Beauty as a kind of tribute.

Jade Hoofed Beauty pressed its head into Yanqing’s embrace. Zheng Yanqing wrapped his arms around the massive horse head, gently stroking it for a while before patting it lightly.

Only then did Jade Hoofed Beauty withdraw, contented, to one side.

Along the bamboo path came a slow-moving carriage.

The driver was the lame Mao Wang. He stopped the carriage in the open space between the three bamboo houses, then jumped down, first greeting Zheng Yanqing respectfully. After that, he lifted the curtain, and three elderly men stepped down from the carriage. The one in front was naturally Zheng Shian. Four years had passed, and his hair had turned white, yet his spirit remained keen.

Behind him stood an enormous old man, broad-shouldered and massive of frame.

Over two meters tall, he looked awkwardly imposing in Yanqing’s eyes. He wore a thick beard and had a face dark as purple-black.

As soon as he got down, he grinned and said to Yanqing, “Yanqing boy, it’s been a long time since you came to see me!”

“Hello, Grandfather Big Hammer!”

Zheng Yanqing stepped forward and bowed deeply.

The elderly man beside Xiong Da Hammer looked the oldest of the three. His hair and eyebrows were both white, and his round face always wore a smile.

“What would you come to my place for? To watch you forge iron?”

“Yanqing boy, pay no mind to this Big Hammer. Hmm, Yanqing boy really is getting more and more handsome... Compared with the last time I saw you, you’ve grown quite a bit taller too. But don’t learn from this Big Hammer and grow into a fool of a giant; otherwise you won’t be able to find a wife.”

Zheng Yanqing smiled and stepped up to bow. “Greetings, Grandfather Wang.”

The round-faced old man was named Wang Zheng, once a fierce attendant under Zheng Wei. In the fourth year of Renshou, when Zheng Renji arrived outside Luoyang and was blocked by the old army, it was Wang Zheng who led the way. He was older than both Zheng Shian and Xiong Da Hammer, and his prestige among the residents of Tianjin Bridge was the highest. Usually he was all smiles, but when angered, he was terrifying.

Zheng Shian had told Yanqing that among the old army, if one spoke of sheer strength, Xiong Da Hammer was the strongest.

But if one spoke of valor and ferocity, no one surpassed Wang Zheng. In the years when Zheng Wei campaigned, he had once been surrounded by bandits. Wang Zheng fought bare-chested and alone, cutting down twenty-three men before breaking out of the encirclement together with Zheng Wei. Because of that battle, Zheng Wei called him Old Tiger Wang.

Wang Zheng waved his hand with a smile. “No need for so much ceremony, Yanqing boy...

Heh heh, I heard from Big Nose that today is your birthday. Your Grandfather Wang has nothing of value, and I don’t know what you like. But I heard that you’ve taken up martial training too, and that you’re quite good at it. I thought about it for several days and decided to give you this pair of broken blades. Don’t refuse me.”

With that, Wang Zheng took from the carriage a pair of horizontal sabers, ancient in color and faintly mottled with age.

One was large and one small, one long and one short. The larger saber was about a meter long; the smaller one, around half that. The scabbards were made of black oxhide, with no ornamentation at all. Their guards were black wood, their hilts black as well, gleaming with a strange red sheen.

Zheng Shian stared in surprise. “Old Wang, this is your ancestral treasure...”

“What ancestral treasure?” Wang Zheng laughed. “That was just something I made up to fool you all back then. These were seized from a bandit chieftain when I fought alongside the Great General at Liyang. At the time, the lot of you stared at them like wolves, so I spun a lie and said they were a family heirloom... Heh heh, ever since the Great General passed away, these crossed blades have never tasted blood again.”

Wang Zheng pressed the spring catch with his hand, and with a ringing swish drew the larger saber from its sheath.

The setting sun, red as blood, shone on the blade’s edge, sending a wicked crimson glimmer across it. No doubt, in years past, these crossed blades had slain countless men. The moment it left the sheath, a faint trace of blood lingered in the air. Wang Zheng returned the saber to its scabbard and placed it in Yanqing’s hands.

“If a man does not kill, how can he be called a man?

Yanqing boy, I once used these crossed blades to cut down more than a hundred men. Today I give them to you, so do not let them lose their luster. I’ll stay here these next two days and teach you the Eight Methods of the Crossed Blades... Heh heh, don’t worry, the moves are very simple.”

The so-called Eight Methods of the Crossed Blades were the method Zheng Wei had originally taught Wang Zheng for using a pair of long and short blades.

But after Zheng Wei’s death, aside from Wang Zheng, no one else knew how to use them. Not even Zheng Dashi knew the art of the crossed blades.

Yanqing hastened to thank him and accepted the long and short sabers.

At that moment, Mao Ya ran out from the kitchen, first coming forward to offer her greetings, then standing behind Zheng Yanqing.

Xiong Da Hammer laughed heartily. “I originally wanted to forge a weapon for you as a gift, but since Brother Wang has given you these crossed blades, I’ll not go to that trouble anymore. What a pity I don’t know how to make a halberd spear, or I might have produced something worthy.”

Forging a halberd spear was no easy task.

Zheng Yanqing had learned from the spear manual Li Ji had given him that crafting a truly fine halberd spear was extraordinarily difficult. Not only was the forging of the spearhead highly exacting, the shaft itself had special requirements. Generally speaking, the halberds made in local workshops were little more than shells of the proper form, lacking true spirit. That was why, for a skilled halberd user, a good weapon was worth a thousand gold.

Xiong Da Hammer’s craftsmanship was not poor; his blades and swords were excellent.

But if one spoke of making halberd spears...

Xiong Da Hammer said with some regret, “If one speaks of masters of halberd making in the land of the River and Luo, none surpass the Yan family of Zhoushan. It is a pity that ten years ago the Yan family suffered a dreadful disaster of extermination, and all one hundred twenty-seven members of the household perished. After that, Master Yan Hu also vanished without a trace, and no word of him has ever been heard again. So many years have passed—who knows whether Yan Hu is alive or dead?”

Zheng Yanqing shuddered and looked up at Xiong Da Hammer.

Yanqing had received a gift, so brothers, it is time for you to bring out your votes as well!

A new week has already begun. This old newcomer needs everyone’s greater support, and in return, this old newcomer will strive all the harder.