by Ng, Wayne;
The Prince visited several more homes and provided the same succor. Soon the detail had dispensed all the water and whatever food the Royal kitchen had loaded onto the carriage. By then, a crowd had formed, but the people did not to beg, nor did they seek favor. They were there to quietly bear witness to heaven on earth bearing pity at last.
The next day, Prince Meng and I made another foray into the slum areas, this time with wagonloads of food, water and clothing and a full battalion of soldiers re-assigned from the areas surrounding the Palace. The Prince directed them to assist the people in whatever way they could. As supplies ran low, another convoy of troops and supplies approached. Work teams placed planks over the muddy expanses to enable the wagons to ride more easily over them and penetrate deeper into the slums. One of the vehicles was a Royal carriage which came to a standstill by myself and Prince Meng.
“My dear eldest Prince, the heaven-sent savior of the poor and wretched, I do hope you brought a change of Royal clothing,” shouted Prince Chao from inside as he surveyed his brother’s muddied robe. “Or were you thinking of borrowing some of the local attire in order to be even closer to the people?”
I could see Prince Meng wanted to choose his words carefully, but even so he lacked diplomacy. “Has hunting season started, Prince Chao? Or has a new brothel opened up in the area?”
Prince Chao gave off an exaggerated laugh. “Both humane and humorous, what a wonderful combination. You inspire me, dear eldest Prince.”
“What are you doing here? This is my responsibility, you saw to that.”
Prince Chao began fanning himself. “Yes, but did you really think that you alone had the sway to re-assign a full battalion of troops, not to mention a month’s supply of food and water from the Royal warehouses? No, dear brother, it was I. You may thank me if you wish, but the love of my subjects, many of whom no doubt await me, is all that I desire.”
With him was the Royal Guardsman, Major Huang. I recognized this towering man with his deformed face and dark, humorless eyes from the day Mei was sold to the King. The Prince ordered Huang to direct the convoy onwards, but he couldn’t resist one last jibe at his brother.
“Stirring heroics yesterday and today, my dear eldest Prince,” he shouted from the carriage. “You didn’t turn back any barbarian hordes or defeat any rebellious warlords, but it is inspiring, utterly inspiring. So much so that I persuaded our Heavenly Father to double the love for our people and have us both save these wretches. Now if you’ll excuse me, tears of gratitude and undying loyalty await me.”
Even while undertaking noble and compassionate deeds, the twins could not refrain from sniping at one another.
On the third day of the court’s relief efforts, I traveled with Yi Ban into the most affected areas of Chengzhou. Prince Meng remained behind to oversee logistical efforts from the Palace, while Prince Chao continued to distribute aid, although he was content to do so while basing himself within the confines of a nearby nobleman’s mansion. He left the relief efforts to be overseen by Major Huang, who surveyed the work with his right hand gripping his halberd.
“He is a rather intimidating sight, would you not agree, dear scholar?” said Yi Ban.
I agreed. “He has the stance of a sentry, and the scars of a warrior, but I also see much complexity in the way he surveys all around him.”
Yi Ban chuckled. “It is not complexity I dare say, but his duty, which he takes especially seriously. He is a soldier, after all. Thinking is not needed. Evidently you do enough of that for all of us. Nonetheless you are correct. He is rather unique.”
I pointed to Huang’s long weapon. “It is not often we see an officer wielding a halberd.”
“Ah, that is Thunderclap, his weapon of choice,” Yi Ban replied. “In an era where chariots are losing some of their luster to calvary, the long spear is falling into disuse among officers. The Major may be the only senior ranking officer in all of Zhou to wield it on a daily basis. His is also likely the heaviest weapon ever fashioned, yet notice how he moves it as though it were weightless. No man could get close to him without getting speared, chopped or sliced.”
“Indeed,” I nodded, “the Major’s long reach with his halberd would make him a formidable opponent.”
Yi Ban continued, “I am told he cherishes that weapon more than wine and women, and that he personally polishes the blades meticulously. It was forged for Huang’s grandfather who also served as an infantryman before the Royal Guardsmen recruited him. Then it was in the possession of Huang’s father when he was a lieutenant Guardsman, before he was killed while dealing with the leaders of the Tai farmer uprising some twenty years ago. That bundle of red horsehair tassel you see around the spear includes samples from each kill. Now the Major brandishes it.”
“A veritable Royal Family of Guardsmen,” I said.
“Truly, and Major Huang has done especially well. There are few top appointments that a commoner can achieve in the military. The Major has advanced on merit. No doubt you have noticed that hideous scar running from his forehead down to his cheek.”
“Impossible to miss.”
Yi Ban nodded. “It happened while he was a young corporal. He was among a platoon of Guardsmen escorting the young Princess, now our Queen, returning from Feishan. Bandits ambushed the outnumbered Guardsmen. Most were hacked to pieces. Huang stood by the terrified young Princess and her servants, wielding Thunderclap like a demon. He was seriously wounded but he kept his adversaries at a distance. His gallantry inspired the remaining escorts who along with Huang, rallied and chased off the remaining bandits. The Princess and her entourage returned to Chengzhou, where Huang was immediately promoted to sergeant. He has risen steadily ever since. As Major, he commands all the Guardsmen and he is not to be overlooked. Not that you could.”
“That tale sounds like it’s grown over the years,” I said.
“Believe it scholar, for I was a younger man once and one of the few who survived that attack and chased off the bandits.”
“Like I said, the story has grown over time,” I repeated and we both chuckled.
As Yi Ban finished his account, a Guardsmen patrol appeared, leading a bedraggled group of prisoners with heavy boards around their necks. The prisoners stumbled through the mud and were brought to a stop before Major Huang. Onlookers and soldiers gathered around. Yi Ban and I could not help but look on as well.
A corporal saluted the Major.
“Sir, we have rooted out the looters and black marketeers as you commanded. Their leader appears to be one of ours, as you suspected—Sergeant Pu-ji.”
Major Huang took a deep breath and glared at the prisoners. He lifted Thunderclap’s blade beneath the board of Sergeant Pu-ji, forcing him to stand erect, however shakily.
“It is not enough that you would embarrass my command and dishonor your brothers with your actions. But you also did it under false pretenses after I granted you leave to attend to your family,” he said and flicked his blade, sending the Sergeant sprawling. “You disgust me,” the Major spat at the Sergeant. “Get up.”
The Sergeant staggered back onto his feet and caught his breath.
“I am not worthy of forgiveness, but I beg you sir, have mercy on me,” he said. “I have served you well for many years. I was with you at basic training, and long ago at Anyi when we were all but certain of death. I have been a good soldier. I do not know what madness overcame me. Please…please, old friend!” He clasped his hands together beneath the board and started to whimper.
“We go back many moons together, this is true.” Major Huang ordered the board removed. The Sergeant collapsed to his knees, and prostrated himself towards his commanding officer.
“Thank you old friend, thank you,” he cried.
Major Huang took a big step back. He raised Thunderclap with both hands, spun his body around and in one long swift arc chopped off his Sergeant’s right hand.
The Sergeant’s scream reverberated around us. He rolled onto his back, feet pounding the mud, and the screaming continued.
The Major towered over Sergeant Pu-ji and wrapped the scythe-shaped blade around the Sergeant’s neck.
“Another sound, and I will take off your other hand.”
The Sergeant went quiet though his eyes revealed deep shock and his nostrils exploded with phlegm.
“Take him out of my sight. Take them all away.”
After the prisoners were removed and the crowd dispersed, Yi Ban and I approached Major Huang.
“Major,” Yi Ban said, “allow me to formally introduce…”
“I know who he is, another… scholar,” the Major interjected without looking at me.
“So you have met?”
“There is no one who enters the Palace that I do not know,” the Major said as he wiped the Sergeant’s blood off his blade.
“Messy business I see,” Yi Ban said, looking at the blood.
The Major nodded out of deference to the Minister’s rank.
“Major Huang, what will become of your ‘old friend’?” I asked.
“He ceased being a friend the moment he lied to me, stole from the people he was sworn to protect, and ultimately dishonored the Royal Guardsmen. That was some time ago. I have only now found evidence. All that he owns, and all that his family possesses will be confiscated and sold. They themselves will also be sold or imprisoned.”
“But of course, such is the King’s justice… punish not one but all,” I said.
The Major tightened his grip on Thunderclap. I could clearly see the contours of his scar, smell his sweat and sense his focused energy.
“Do you not think the Sergeant’s family’s wealth was ill-begotten?” he demanded. “Are you questioning our Son of Heaven?”
“It is not the Son of Heaven I question, it is our world which breeds human failings, which are in turn met with limited humanity and much brutality,” I replied.
“And you would have me ignore those who commit such brutality? This is foolish talk. My Lord,” he added, turning to Yi Ban, “may I carry on with my duties?”
Yi Ban nodded.
Just as the Major was about to turn away I said, “Major Huang, let us suppose that twenty years ago the Son of Heaven had not decided to raise the taxes of farmers in the western region of Lu? Let us further suppose he had realized he could live quite comfortably without taking their livestock, their produce and their boys and men for wars that never cease. And suppose he had not sent in troops such as your father to restore an order that already existed among people who were now merely fighting for the simple life they knew. If that were so, you would not be here now, but your father and many others might be alive. Surely there is much to be gained by an enlightened disregard of commands, do you not agree, Major Huang?”
The Major stood rigidly. “But… but order must prevail. It is not possible to look the other way.”
“You perspire, Major Huang. And not only because of the rigors of the task you have just performed. You wear a thick woolen tunic beneath your armor as though the spring chill is still upon us, though it has clearly passed. We cannot ignore the changing seasons any more than we can the brotherhood that is within us all.”
“We are no more brothers to such vermin than are animals and humans.”
“Ah but we are. Amidst the Royal collection in the Royal Archives is a rare painting. Swiftly sketched with deft strokes and washed with color, a woman stands in prayer attended by a phoenix and a dragon. It is a masterful piece of art, regrettably ignored. Therein lies evidence of brotherhood even across different manners of beings.”
“That is a false and ludicrous notion, conjured by someone with too much imagination and not enough worldly sense,” the Major snorted.
“Perhaps. But no more so than when a man rests with his beast of burden or his stallion. The possibilities are limited only by an over-reliance on archaic notions and a lack of imagination.”
The Major’s eyes flickered, then he marched away.
Yi Ban nodded towards the departing Major. “Lao Tzu, did I not advise you to be cautious? He commands the Royal Guardsmen and answers only to the Royal Family. I have long suspected that he knows and sees more than he lets on. He is not one to alienate.”
“I don’t believe I have done so. Quite the opposite.”
“We can only hope. Alas, I must now depart. Some junior ministers demand my attention.”
12
Confucius
Nature’s wrath bared its anger through the flooding, the starvation, the diseases and the ensuing violence, killing tens of thousands throughout the kingdom and the break-away states. Some no doubt whispered that such tragedies were harbingers of a shift in the mandate of heaven, legitimizing the indifference many already felt towards the Royal House. For myself, I knew that even these calamities in the timeless world of the Zhou Kingdom would barely merit a line in the dynasty’s annals. More significant to this story is that not long after the floods subsided, Confucius entered Chengzhou’s city gates.
He arrived on horseback with a servant and two pupils in tow. My immediate reaction was of mild astonishment—a horse is worth many servants yet he was purportedly of quite humble origins. Nevertheless there were no airs about him when we first met. He showed me all the deference one expected from a junior, dropping to his knees and kowtowing.
“Please rise, it is I who should be bowing to you, Master Confucius,” I said.
“You flatter me, Master Lao Tzu,” he replied. “Many moons have passed since I first longed to be in your presence.”
There was nothing particularly striking about Confucius. He stood taller than most men, though not especially so. His appearance was more youthful than I expected, though at the time, he would have been in his late twenties. He carried himself exceptionally well. There was confidence in his tone as well as an economy in his movements. When he walked, it was as though he glided. When he gestured or nodded, it was with a graceful ease. Cavernous eyes searched slowly but perceptively, taking in everything around him. Such refinement and his full face indicated that his days of hunger and want were long over. I have no doubt he came to similar conclusions about me.
He presented me with a small, simple lacquered box. The box’s value alone could feed a family for weeks. I opened it and gazed upon its contents, which were several square pieces of thin, stiff blue fabric bound with a thread. I picked them up and examined them with fascination. The first piece was a wonderful likeness of a scholar in contemplation atop a mountain. Other pieces were inked with wonderfully formed words. Together they made for an odd type of book.
My curiosity was piqued.
“Fascinating, and… beautiful at the same time. I have never before laid eyes on such a peculiarity. Forgive my ignorance, Master Confucius, but what is it?”
He smiled with a self-satisfied expression on his face. “They are raw silk fibers. Layered, then dyed. As you can see, it is quite light and pliable. While in Linzi, I taught a nobleman’s sons for a period of time. He collected strange and interesting objects and traded this for a jade goblet with a merchant who died shortly afterwards in a fire. Apparently it takes many hours and much material to make, far too much for it ever to be of any practical value. But ink spreads nicely on the material and the nobleman had several of my sayings inscribed onto it as a parting gift.”
I read the first saying: ‘Do not do to others what you would not want yourself.’
An odd gift with an odd saying, or so I thought at the time. Was it an indirect way of him telling me to treat him with respect? Or was it an honest expression of the power of reciprocity in guiding our actions? Though his gift was unique, it had little real use. Perhaps that was its intent. Perhaps he was honoring me with a simple object crafted with time and patience, a reflection of the Way. I remember thinki
ng how strange it was that such a simple act could ferment so disquieting a feeling.
We sat before we spoke further. Then he told me of his journey. He had traveled far and if it had not been for heaven’s fury on the land, he would have arrived months earlier. Numerous noblemen along the way implored him to stay for extended periods. Unlike myself when I traveled to Chengzhou, he hadn’t shared too many roadside meals with peasant farmers.
“At last, I meet someone who truly understands me,” he said, nodding towards me. “Though many seek our counsel and wisdom, few know of the rigors of contemplation. Yet we cannot blame heaven, nor can we blame men. We study things on a basic level but our understanding penetrates the higher levels. But for the gods, no one else but our brethren truly fathom us.”
Except for his belief in the gods, he spoke a clear truth. There is an unspeakable loneliness in solitary deliberations, one that even the most trusted servant or most loyal companion cannot comprehend. Indeed, most of the other scholars within the Palace paid me little heed. I felt that although Confucius and I would not always share common ground on many ideas, I dearly wanted intellectual companionship, so I decided to assume his words spoke of a mutual understanding and of respect to follow. But there was something about him that I could not wholly embrace.
“Master Confucius, the doctrines of the Way require much reflection to comprehend, but once understood, are simple to practice,” I replied. “However, among our rulers, few appreciate the profits of such practice.”
“Indeed, Master Lao Tzu. The world’s growing obsession with war and materialism dampens the appetite for such knowledge.”
He continued to praise my work as though he were my apprentice. I had never required such acclamation, so I re-directed our discussion to our respective upbringings, which we shared at length. Both of our fathers were absent during our childhoods, relegating our families to poverty. But they both ensured we received an education. He had received training in the traditional six subjects—rites, music, archery, chariot driving, writing and mathematics—while I had had such privileges only in writing and mathematics. In any event, I demonstrated limited interest in handling either a bow or a horse. Nor would I have been especially successful at them, even though, years before, my cousin Shun did teach me how to use a slingshot. By fifteen, Confucius found work as an administrator, as did I. We developed our own beliefs after witnessing the failures of our rulers. But that was also the area where he would find his most receptive audiences. He traveled through many Royal Courts, slept in many mansions and attracted many loyal followers.