by Ng, Wayne;
Archive records and some old timers recalled how rulers used it to demonstrate their heavenly dominion over the natural world. Kings from all lands would exchange cheetahs, elephants and exotic birds as diplomatic gifts and as tools. Elite hunting cultures transcended political allegiances. The hunt was an opportunity for the court to ostentatiously display its grandeur while entertaining guests and dignitaries, as well as to bestow favors on subjects.
But I also believe these hunts were crude attempts to master Nature. There are few things more contemptuous of the rhythms of the world than to hunt wild beasts for the purposes of sport, amusement and patronage. The naiveté that humans could wantonly master Nature is a mistake I knew would someday be regretted. How I abhorred the very notion. So when the King ordered his entire Palace to accompany the hunt with no aim other than to engorge the appearance of his splendor, I wished nothing more than to withdraw into my own thoughts. But Prince Meng urged me to come and I could refuse him nothing, nor would I. As a Prince, he was expected to spearhead one of the competing formations of the hunt and requested my moral support.
Despite the dire state of the treasury’s coffers, the court spared no expense and showed little fiscal restraint. The Royal kitchens set up temporary quarters on the edge of the hunting grounds. Hundreds of slaves and servants were seconded to supplement the existing Royal staff. Huge numbers of pigs, ducks, swans, goats and cows were slaughtered for the occasion. Fearing a paucity of nobility in the entourage, bribes, gifts, promises and women were pledged to all who attended. It appeared to work. Dozens of nobles and diplomats of all ranks and their followers presented themselves to the King as he left through the south gate.
The hunting grounds stood ten li up river from Chengzhou. A prized wild buck had been captured and released within a controlled perimeter. To prevent the beast from escaping, a battalion of soldiers surrounded it on three sides, leaving the hunters to approach from the river. To call it a hunt would be akin to calling a farming implement a sword. It was more of an amusement, a ritual slaughter, than anything else.
The early morning commenced as if the Sun God, as Yi Ban would say, had personally blessed the event. An unseasonal warmth and stillness filled the air, adding a festive atmosphere to the Royal procession. The Guardsmen battalion and guests left Chengzhou in the morning after a brief dawn ceremony at the temple. From my carriage, I could see flocks of birds flying away in haste, as though their instincts foretold of a darkness to come. It took until noon for the procession to thread its way to the hunting grounds.
Prince Chao sat high atop his prized mount Leishan, named after the Thunder God. The beast was a rare beauty with a long arched neck, high tail carriage and finely chiseled bone structure. Having descended from a powerful quarter horse smuggled at great cost from the Kingdom of Ferghana well beyond the barbarians and across the desert sea, Leishan was the last of its kind in Zhou.
Prince Chao joked with his contingent. He was clearly in his element, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. He led one of many groups of hunters and servants. Several other nobles including a Duke from Jin were amongst the regal competition. Prince Meng had few hunting companions so he filled out his group with some of General Wu’s aides. Together they rode up to the starting position. His participation was likely aimed at appeasing the King, as I knew the Prince enjoyed hunts and military exercises with the same enthusiasm as his brother did poetry recitals. Since the misfortunes borne during the floods, he had become more involved in affairs of the state and rituals of his station. But I sensed a subtle detachment which I had initially attributed to his brother upstaging him during the relief efforts. Upon reflection, I now better understand his mood and the events that transpired.
There must have been a thousand guests and servants. They huddled within and around numerous tents, all of which circled the enormous Royal tent, creating a makeshift city with guests entertained by magicians, acrobats and musicians. By then the wind had shifted, and thick clouds swirled in our direction. The Royal banners and flags flew straight. Extra servants were assigned to hold the anchor ropes of our tents.
No one could have known that the soft rain that began to fall portended a much darker day. The King sat crossed-legged on a portable platform as servants scurried about filling his wine vessel and lining up platters of food. He looked down at his subjects with the most jovial façade I had ever seen him display in public. It was the most casual and informal gathering of a Royal I’d ever witnessed. Most of the guests showed little restraint with the Royal feast, wantonly partaking of the free-flowing wine. The King was carried out of his tent in his palanquin to another platform in front of the hunting parties. He struggled to stand as he toasted the hunters and promised a hundred bronze pieces to whomever returned with the head of the beast. The moment the King dropped his hand signifying the start of the hunt, the competitors were off, with Prince Chao and his party at the forefront. As the hunters charged away, clouds black as soot and as thick as porridge whirled towards us, and heaven began releasing a steady drizzle.
The hunters had been told the buck had been funneled into a narrow corridor. However, now there was a report that indicated it had broken clear and had last been seen running north in the direction of the river. A later reported sighting placed the deer ten li west of the feast, in the deepest part of the forest. Then a contrary rumor had the buck grazing in a meadow to the south. The fearlessness of the buck and the uncertainty of its whereabouts fueled the hunters’ excitement. They galloped in all directions. Prince Chao yanked his reins westward. His entourage and even the most skilled of his horsemen struggled through the drizzle to keep up with him and his steed, Leishan. Yet surprisingly, Prince Meng and his party were never far behind.
The rain intensified. Fine drops became a blanket of showers, and the orgy of feasting and merriment soon became a wind and rain drenched debacle. Thunder and lightning erupted from the skies. Dancers and musicians fell completely out of rhythm, unable to hear one another through the thunder claps and the boisterousness of the guests. Gusts ballooned the tents, then uprooted them. Fire pits with half-cooked pigs were doused. Then the guests scrambled for whatever shelter still remained intact. Many attempted to leave and were immediately ensnarled in an immovable crush of carriages and litters.
Many hunters were lost in the diminishing light of the forest, though some had returned to the chaos of the scattering feast. Prince Chao paid no heed to the deteriorating weather. His entourage would later say the more challenging the hunt, the more focused and determined he became. Other hunters marveled that, although he was born the son of a God on Earth, he had the blood of a hunter and the grit of a warrior. I would learn later from one of his servants that he charged with Leishan deep into the forest, first in one direction, then another. Most of his entourage lost sight of him. The din of the rain and thunder would be to the advantage of the prey, but a seasoned hunter could also make use of it. Soon, Prince Chao had the buck in his sights, barely ten zhang away, beneath a canopy of trees where it had found shelter.
Oblivious to the pelting rain and crashing thunder, the Prince transferred the reins to his teeth, reached for his bow and then notched his arrow. His fingers curled around his bowstring and arrow. He drew the bow and aimed. As he was about to release it, an arrow flew by him, grazing Leishan’s ear and coming to a rest in a tree trunk just a zhang away. Spooked, Leishan reared onto its hind legs and bucked. The Prince had no time to recover and was thrown hard, landing on his head and shoulder. He lay completely motionless. An attendant came to his aid. One of his swifter companions jumped off his horse and gathered up the Prince, and as he cradled his master’s limp body, Prince Meng came crashing through the forest. The elder Prince’s chest heaved, his eyes bulged, a look of bronze determination in them as he gazed down at his fallen brother. Dangling from his hand was his Royal bow.
Led by Major Huang, Prince Chao was carried out of the forest by a litter of Royal G
uardsmen. They returned to the remnants of the feast, which had disintegrated into absolute disorder. I heard the Major’s report, which emphasized the accidental nature of Prince Meng’s stray arrow. Despite this, the King upon seeing his breathing but unmoving younger Prince, ordered the Prince’s attendants to be flogged and Leishan destroyed.
For five days and five nights, Prince Chao remained in darkness. His attendants and Prince Meng took turns at his brother’s side, as did the Queen. Her Royal Highness came in frequently and re-did Prince Chao’s attire, sometimes even applying make-up as though he were a doll. But the strained expression on her face suggested she was more aware of the situation than her usual madness would suggest. The Son of Heaven could not or would not bear the pain of seeing his son on the edge of death. He made no attempt to hide his grief. I heard stories of wine-fueled rages at his ministers and at Prince Meng. He had his most loyal servants flogged for no reason. He likely heard the whispers—that the elder Prince had seen an opportune moment to eliminate his rival for the throne, and that his arrow had just missed its intended target. As crude and cumbersome as such a plot might have been, many believed there was no better reason for the elder Prince’s actions on the hunt.
With only his personal attendants in tow, the King appeared unexpectedly one day while I attended to Prince Meng in his office. The King’s face was gaunt and his eyes weary as though he hadn’t slept in days. His speech was slurred but remained cutting.
“Until a few days ago your lack of skills with the bow would have merited sentry duty by the latrines. Does the heir now believe he has demonstrated abilities worthy of an heir or a conspirator?”
Prince Meng remained silent, eyes fixed to the ground.
“Speak, or is an arrow behind the back the only courage you can muster?”
“Heavenly Father, if I had but half the courage of my ailing brother…”
“Let alone the Son of Heaven, you could never be half the man he reveals himself to be even now as he fights for his Royal life. If duty and tradition did not dictate my actions, it would be obvious who would succeed me. Heaven help us all if a poet dreamer inherits the throne.”
Prince Meng’s face reddened. “I am innocent of misdeeds. I beg you to see this. My wish is to serve Zhou and my Heavenly Father however he sees best. My own aspirations are not worthy of your attention.”
“Indeed they are not. There is little about you that is worthy of my consideration. If you are fortunate, your mother in her madness still possesses a modicum of thought for you. But this would only further reveal the extent of her insanity.” The King continued his diatribe in this vein until finally he ran out of breath. As he departed, Prince Meng’s sloping shoulders had collapsed even further.
“No amount of abuse is worth the throne,” he muttered. “I wish another errant arrow had somehow found its way to me.”
On the sixth morning, drenched in perspiration and wearing a haggard expression on his face, Prince Chao parted his dry lips and opened his eyes. He asked for water and proceeded to drink as though he’d been parched for days, which indeed he had. He grimaced as he complained of pounding pains in his head, a shoulder and arm he could scarcely move, and a leg that had twisted grotesquely.
When asked if he remembered anything, he shook his head, then asked, “Are we under attack? Have my would-be assassins been captured?”
He listened attentively to his attendants’ report of that day. He displayed neither emotion nor bitterness when told of the accident and who was involved. The Queen was the first of the Royal Family to greet him. Even through the thick layers of face paint, she appeared weary and confused, almost as if she had been crying. But soon she was back to her usual self. “Would my Prince care to see a new dance? Or would he prefer a song?” she asked with a giggle.
Before Prince Chao could answer, the King entered. He towered over his ailing son, barely containing his relief.
“The gods smile on Zhou and they send a miracle to me,” he declared. “Your Royal Father is most pleased. Zhou remains in good hands and continues to have a warrior Prince.”
He proclaimed that offerings to the temple would be made to Shennong, the God of Medicine. He offered to feed one hundred peasant families and free twenty prisoners. Wine flowed freely within the Celestial Hall, and the King prodded the rest of the court to drink and celebrate with him. He even invited the ambassador from Chu to join in the festivities.
The King’s relief and gratitude to the gods was boundless. To Prince Chao, he gave one hundred bronze pieces, a stable of horses and three of his newest handpicked maidens. The Prince barely acknowledged the offerings. But his convalescence was swift. Within a month he was on his feet, though his arm remained in a sling and he moved without his usual assuredness. During this time he declined repeated requests from Prince Meng for an audience, a rebuff to the elder Prince that meant a tremendous loss of face. But he did have private meetings with selected generals, ministers, diplomats and scholars. I heard rumors that Confucius was among them. That Confucius would receive such access to the Prince was intriguing. We continued to exchange our views on a range of matters, but he never once mentioned any audiences with Prince Chao.
I had hoped Prince Chao would have returned with a new-found temperateness, perhaps a respect for the frailty and delicate balance of life. Thus, when Prince Meng was finally granted an audience with his brother, I was curious as to what his reception would be. Having long since won Prince Meng’s confidence, I was permitted to accompany him, along with Yi Ban.
As we entered Prince Chao’s Hall, we were surprised to find the King was also there, sitting comfortably beside him. After the usual formal greetings and felicitations, Prince Chao held little back.
“So, dear brother Prince Meng, have you come to offer blessings at my recovery, or to apologize that your marksmanship was so sadly but predictably found wanting?”
The King interceded. “Chao, we have spoken of this. Today is a joyous occasion. My Princes are together again. It is time to place our differences to one side.”
Prince Meng swallowed a heavy sigh. “I agree, Heavenly Father, I too do not wish to quarrel. My brother mistakes my position. The crown is not all that is of value in this world. I am the elder and the heir to the throne, so why would I harbor any other aspirations other than what my birthright has already decreed? Why would I find joy in seeing blood spilled, especially blood so close to my own?”
“Your smug, self-righteous morality tires me more than my wounds,” Prince Chao replied. “If you truly have only the most noble of intentions and have little appetite for the throne, why do you not renounce your birthright here and now?”
Prince Meng hesitated. “It is not for me to re-write history and tradition.”
Prince Chao laughed. “Ah, how convenient it is to embrace tradition now. But I am not without regard for the dictates put forth by our ancestors. In fact, I have become quite familiar with them through the words of Confucius.”
“Confucius is just one of many toadies of the court who need to be reminded of who it is they serve,” Prince Meng responded.
“Perhaps you’d care to do so yourself?” Prince Chao beckoned to a darkened corner, from which Confucius emerged, bowing three times in supplication to Prince Meng. Somehow I felt I had been outflanked without even knowing I was in competition for the ears and eyes of the court. Without a formal decree, Prince Meng had made me a de facto advisor and included me in discussions where trusted aides were required. Yet I was disappointed to see that Confucius had achieved a similar status with the other Prince in such a short amount of time. My thoughts began to simmer upon hearing the Prince lavish praise on Confucius.
“Confucius weaves a fabric that binds society. He espouses ideas that are not dismissive of a strong monarchy, unlike your archivist. I suggest you heed his words,” Prince Chao said.
Prince Meng glared at Confucius, who
remained prostrate on the floor in supplication. “Those who would suggest followers of the Way lack respect towards their masters are themselves lacking in respect,” he said. “Does the wandering visitor to our court suggest that the Royal Archivist is not a man of peace and deference? Speak, visitor.”
Confucius replied. “Your Highness, I make no suggestion that the Royal Archivist is anything other than a man of peace. That would be the furthest notion from the truth. But peace cannot come without order, and order cannot come without clear social and political roles. Let the ruler be a ruler and the subject a subject. The Son Of Heaven has a divine right to rule, yet for him to rule effectively his virtue must be reflected in all around him.”
“Well spoken, scholar,” the King called out. “It is time for us to move in a different direction. As the cornerstones of Zhou, I expect you two to weigh some of this scholar’s views.”
“Indeed,” Prince Chao agreed, “Confucius is a modern man. He has seen much of the world, and he confirms what our diplomats and spies tell us. It is changing rapidly.” He paused. “Those states around us that have embraced modernity have not gone unrewarded. They now have standing armies and they control their own border regions not with the family relationships but through models of governance founded on functioning administrative units. They possess none of these bloated bureaucracies populated with minions as ministers.” Prince Chao glared at Yi Ban then continued. “Instead, officials of merit all report to their king. Laws, measurements, farming—all things have been re-organized in line with idea that the entire land exists to serve the wishes of the king. In return, the king is just and leads by example, ruling with wisdom, authority and morality. All those of noble stock will follow his example, as will the peasantry. Thus social order re-binds the world. That is ‘the way’ that Zhou also will be. That is the future. That is order, my dear brother. We must adapt if Zhou is to re-claim its place in this world. You may choose to join me on this course, or you may flutter in the wind like soiled linen. Are you prepared for this, dear brother?”