Half a Cup of Wine - Chapter 3
Part Three: Autumn Wind
By the time I finished burying the three bodies, it was already past three in the morning.1
I hesitated for a long time while carving Butcher Fang’s tombstone. In the end, I carved the same six characters as on the other two: "Tomb of an Unknown Assassin." I buried them outside Chang'an, by the Wei River, to become one with the earth, with only the cold moonlight to keep them company.
On my way back, I saw Mrs. Fang, still searching for her husband despite the curfew.2 Butcher Fang’s eldest daughter softly urged her mother to return home, still not revealing the truth of her father’s death. The night watchmen discovered them and coldly drove them away.
By the time I reached my house, dawn was approaching.
I found Shi Qiufeng in a deserted alley. He leaned against a wall, covered in blood, too weak even to smile at me. Yet his eyes were startlingly bright, as if reborn from the ashes.3
Beside him sat a half-finished cup of liquor. The night I first met him, he had also drunk half a cup before drawing his saber, as if it were a ritual.
Shi Qiufeng gestured for me to hand him the cup.
I couldn't help but remind him, "Drinking will aggravate your injuries.”
He gave a weak smile. "I know."
"Why did you come back to finish this half-cup after the fight?" I asked.
"To celebrate surviving," he replied.
I looked into his eyes. "Then why drink half a cup before drawing your saber?"
"In case I don't return. One should enjoy life to the fullest before death.”
He smiled. "That’s what my master taught me. He always said life and death are but half a cup of wine, nothing to dwell on."
His gaze was calm and indifferent as he said this, his eyes holding a stillness and peace that belied his youth. No joy or sorrow, no lingering attachments.
I watched as he took the cup with bloodied, trembling fingers. “Are you talking about the leader of the Plum Blossom Sect?”
"No," he said. "My master was a swordsman from the northern deserts.4"
The chaos in the Jianghu was nothing more than right and wrong, love and hate, grievances and revenge. It hadn’t changed for centuries. It was just that the carefree young men of the past had become the jaded men watching the carefree young men of the present, reminiscing about their comrades buried by the Jianghu for their recklessness, while simultaneously wielding their power to bury the reckless youth of the current generation.
Twenty years ago, a swordsman from the northern deserts came to the Central Plains, defeating several renowned martial artists before losing to Huai Wuya, the young master of the Huai family. The former was never the same again, while the latter rose to fame after this battle, his name echoing throughout the Jianghu. Twenty years later, the swordsman's disciple inherited his mantle, and after his master’s death, returned to the Central Plains, vowing to defeat the man who had caused his master so much grief.
The once passionate and inexperienced young master of the Huai family was now the powerful head of the Huai family, able to manipulate the Jianghu at will. Sensing danger after the swordsman's disciple defeated several renowned swordsmen of the Central Plains, he refused to meet him and suppressed news of his victories.
Helpless, the swordsman’s disciple could only search for Huai Wuya's whereabouts. In the process, he accidentally discovered Huai Wuya’s secret dealings, the murderous acts he committed for wealth and power. Thus, under the guise of an outer disciple of the Plum Blossom Sect, he infiltrated the sect, which had close ties with the Huai family. Starting by exposing the Plum Blossom Sect’s secrets, within six months, he had toppled half of the forces Huai Wuya had assembled to unify the Jianghu.
Lightly injured, the swordsman's disciple came to Chang'an, where Huai Wuya resided, intending to recover before using the secrets he held to force Huai Wuya into a fair fight. Unexpectedly, Huai Wuya learned of his arrival in advance and dispatched righteous disciples and assassins to hunt him down. After just two days in Chang'an, the swordsman’s disciple was gravely wounded.
“Are all people in the Central Plains so fickle?” Shi Qiufeng asked. “Or is it just Huai Wuya?”
I looked at his bloodied form. “Perhaps.”
"People of the northern deserts are never like this," he said. "We are always steadfast and true.”
It wasn’t some grand tale. There was no Green-Eyed Shi Qiufeng comparable to Ruan Ji of the Wei and Jin dynasties, just the common grievances and revenge between two generations of the Jianghu.
After hearing his story, I laughed. “You're more mundane than I thought.”
Shi Qiufeng didn’t mind. “Mundane people do mundane things."
Xue Wuyi used the reward from killing the Minister of War to hire a familiar physician, Dr. Shen. Dr. Shen only prescribed some medicine to stop the bleeding. Looking at Shi Qiufeng, he shook his head. "Such a strong body, now half-crippled. What a pity."
"Is there nothing that can be done?"
"The left arm must be amputated.”
Shi Qiufeng nodded. “Do it.”
Dr. Shen had come in a hurry and hadn’t brought any anesthetic.5 Shi Qiufeng didn't make a sound as the blade fell, his face pale, the veins in his right hand bulging as he snapped the pearwood armrest before finally losing consciousness.
“His life is not in danger, but he needs rest, or he’ll be truly crippled.” Dr. Shen said coldly as he left. “I treated Xue Wuyi's injuries ten years ago. Now there’s another one. I really don’t understand why you Jianghu people are so reckless with your lives.”
When Shi Qiufeng woke up, it was pouring again.
He looked out the window and grinned. “It sure rains a lot in your Central Plains.”
Xue Wuyi stood up to leave. “I’ll arrange for someone to take you out of Chang'an by water. You can leave tomorrow.”
“I’ve heard of you. Xue Wuyi, the ‘Blood Saber,’ Chang'an’s lone assassin." Shi Qiufeng stopped him. “It’s said that Huai Wuya led the group of Jianghu people who ambushed you ten years ago. He was the one who dealt you the final blow. Haven't you ever thought about revenge?”
Xue Wuyi stopped, but didn’t turn around. “The Jianghu is chaotic enough.”
Shi Qiufeng laughed. “If it’s not chaotic, it wouldn't be the Jianghu.”
His face was pale and bloodless, but his eyes were startlingly bright, reminding me of Master’s suddenly bright eyes in my dream the other night, like the last flicker of a dying flame.
Xue Wuyi left without looking back.
I went to the window and saw that Xue Wuyi had left behind the saber Su Qiuchi had given him many years ago, the saber that had been with him for ten years, never leaving his side. I went downstairs to call him back, but he was already hurrying away, ignoring the downpour, disappearing into the night as if fleeing.
When I found Xue Wuyi's residence, he was sitting alone at a table, staring blankly at a portrait of Su Qiuchi on the wall, his eyes vacant and lost. The room was silent and cold, only the candlelight flickered.
I called his name several times before he startled awake. Seeing the saber in my hand, he froze, taking a while to recover.
As I was leaving, Xue Wuyi stopped me.
“Yan Jiu,” he said, his eyes unreadable, the candlelight flickering in their depths, “Sometimes I think, if I had stayed in my hometown, without these foolish, lofty ambitions that brought me to Chang'an, would I be happier and freer now?”
Happy and free. What a ludicrous phrase, yet so many people chased after it.
I still remembered that night ten years ago, when Xue Wuyi held Su Qiuchi's cold body and howled at the sky, his eyes red with hatred, vowing revenge, swearing he would not spare anyone who had harmed her.
Another rainy night, Xue Wuyi was ambushed by dozens of Jianghu people. When I arrived, I saw Huai Wuya slowly grinding his foot into Xue Wuyi's right hand, a leisurely smile on his face. "Tell me, if I put my weight down, will the famed 'Blood Saber' Xue Wuyi vanish from the Jianghu?"
Xue Wuyi’s head was pinned beneath Huai Wuya’s foot, tilted to one side. His eyes met mine, his gaze dead and empty, rain and mud streaming down his face.
The carefree young men of the Jianghu had to grow old, while those who didn't were already buried by the Jianghu, struggling desperately, yet never seeing the light of day.
When I returned, I found Shi Qiufeng browsing the books on my table. He held up a copy of The Complete Works of Su Shi.6 “You like Su Shi too, Miss Yan?”
“People from the northern deserts can read Central Plains characters?” He truly surprised me.
“My father was a scholar who fled to the northern deserts during the great unrest within the borders years ago. He taught me some poetry and literature when I was young.” Shi Qiufeng smiled like a naive, innocent young man. “My father didn’t like Su Shi. He felt he was too reckless and unrestrained in his life. He preferred Lu You7 and taught me that I should be like Lu You, with a heart for the common people. My name was actually given to me thanks to Lu You. Can you guess which poem?”
“…The sound of autumn wind through reeds on the river?”8
“Wrong.”
"The autumn wind howls, the Han banner yellow?"9
“Still wrong.” He grinned mischievously. “It’s ‘Iron horses amidst the autumn wind at Dasanguan.’”10
“My father yearned to return to the Central Plains, but it was just wishful thinking. He also forbade me from practicing martial arts, saying it was better to be a scholar than a warrior. In the end, just like Lu You, he died with his ambitions unfulfilled. I, however, prefer Su Shi. Even though his life was filled with misfortune, he remained unrestrained and free-spirited.” Shi Qiufeng put down the book and propped his saber against the table with his one arm. “Which line of Su Shi’s do you like the most?”
It had been years since anyone had discussed these things with me, except when Master, disregarding social conventions, forced me to attend school as a child.
“Looking back on the bleak path I’ve travelled, I return home, neither seeking wind nor rain, nor clear skies.”11 I said.
“That one…” He looked slightly disappointed. “I like the line from Ode to Red Cliffs the most: ‘We are but mayflies in this world, a grain of sand in the vast ocean.’12 Su Shi, though not a martial artist, was a knight-errant among scholars, wielding his pen as a sword, critiquing the world.”
I looked at his empty left sleeve. “But although Su Shi lived a carefree life, he also lived a life of hardship.”
“What does it matter?” Shi Qiufeng laughed. “I’d rather live an unrestrained, carefree life like Su Shi than live a life of frustration and resentment like Lu You, only to lament in old age that my heart is in the Tianshan Mountains, while my body grows old in Cangzhou.13 So what if he suffered the Crow Terrace Poetry Trial?14 So what if he was demoted again and again? So what if he died on his journey back north? Isn't the point of life to live happily and freely? Otherwise, one is no longer a person, but merely a dog of another.”
Happy and free. Happy and free again. I wondered if, during his exile in Danzhou, Su Shi ever thought that if he hadn't pursued momentary happiness and freedom, if he had acted with more caution, he wouldn't have ended up in his twilight years banished to the remote wilderness of Danzhou, punished with a sentence second only to the extermination of his entire family.
His sanxian stood by the table.
Its three strings were taut, the snakeskin covering the sound box smooth and worn. It was a well-used instrument. I thought of the brand-new, broken guqin gathering dust in the corner of the Giant Wild Goose Pagoda.
"Did it belong to your master?" I asked.
"My father's," Shi Qiufeng said. "I didn't have much to bring when I left the northern deserts. We were dirt poor. I only brought my master's saber and my father's sanxian."
Then he suddenly turned around and asked in surprise, "How did you know it wasn't mine?"
"You don’t seem like someone who plays the sanxian.” I replied.
"Then what do I seem like?"
"A brute."
A brute who charged through enemy lines alone.
Shi Qiufeng roared with laughter, his eyes bright as polished snow.
After laughing, he asked, “What good wine do you have here?”
“Plum wine, strong liquor, chrysanthemum wine, pear blossom white.”
“All light wines… Strong liquor it is then.” Shi Qiufeng turned to sit down, then paused. "What kind of wine does Xue Wuyi usually drink?”
“Plum wine.”
He looked disappointed. “What about you?”
“I don’t drink.”
“…Why?”
“It’s easy to get addicted if you get drunk even once,” I said.
“You Central Plains people are really boring. In the northern deserts, everyone, men and women alike, lives on strong liquor.” Shi Qiufeng took the cup and gulped it down. “My master used to say, wherever there is strong liquor, there are strong people.”
1 寅时 (yínshí): The period between 3:00 am and 5:00 am in the traditional Chinese time system.
2 Curfew: During ancient times in China, strict curfews were enforced in cities, prohibiting people from being outside during nighttime hours.
3涅槃重生 (nièpán chóngshēng): Reborn from the ashes, like a phoenix. A reference to the Buddhist concept of nirvana and rebirth, but often used in a secular context to describe overcoming hardship and emerging stronger.
4漠北 (Mòběi): A general term referring to the vast desert regions north of China, often associated with nomadic tribes and a harsh environment.
5麻沸散 (máfèisǎn): A historical anesthetic used in ancient China, considered one of the earliest forms of general anesthesia.
6《东坡全集》(Dōngpō Quánjí): The Complete Works of Su Shi, also known as Su Dongpo, a renowned poet, writer, calligrapher, painter, and statesman of the Song Dynasty.
7陆放翁 (Lù Fàngwēng): Lu You, a prominent patriotic poet of the Southern Song Dynasty, known for his passionate and evocative works.
8 江上秋风芦荻声 (Jiāng shàng qiūfēng lúdí shēng): This line isn't a direct quote from Lu You, but evokes a similar imagery often found in his poems.
9 秋风猎猎汉旗黄 (Qiūfēng liè liè hàn qí huáng): This line isn't a direct quote from Lu You, but evokes a similar imagery often found in his poems.
10 铁马秋风大散关 (Tiěmǎ qiūfēng dàsànguān): "Iron horses amidst the autumn wind at Dasanguan" is a line from Lu You's poem "Book of the Autumn Wind" (秋风叹). Dasanguan is a strategically important pass on the historical border between China and its northern neighbors.
11 回首向来萧瑟处，归去，也无风雨也无晴 (Huíshǒu xiàng lái xiāosè chù, guī qù, yě wú fēngyǔ yě wú qíng): "Looking back on the bleak path I’ve travelled, I return home, neither seeking wind nor rain, nor clear skies" is a famous line from Su Shi's poem "Ding Feng Bo" (定风波). It reflects a state of tranquility and acceptance after experiencing the ups and downs of life.
12 寄蜉蝣于天地，渺沧海之一粟 (Jì fúyóu yú tiāndì, miǎo cānghǎi zhī yīsù): "We are but mayflies in this world, a grain of sand in the vast ocean" is a line from Su Shi's famous "Ode to Red Cliffs" (赤壁赋). It emphasizes the insignificance of human existence in the face of the vastness of time and nature.
13 心在天山、身老沧州 (Xīn zài Tiānshān, shēn lǎo Cāngzhōu): "My heart is in the Tianshan Mountains, while my body grows old in Cangzhou" reflects Lu You’s unfulfilled desire to serve his country by fighting on the frontier against invaders. Tianshan Mountains represent his patriotic ambitions, while Cangzhou represents his forced retirement far from the action.
14乌台诗案 (Wū tái shī àn): Crow Terrace Poetry Trial, a political persecution during the Song Dynasty where Su Shi was imprisoned and nearly executed for his poetry that was deemed critical of the government.
Comments
Post a Comment