Chapter 3
“Wouldn’t you like to work with us…?”
Instead of answering, Liu Bei gazed up at the sky. The star seemed to speak to him, alluring him in a language so appealing and dangerous. Siren’s call had caught him captive.
“Common people like you misunderstand us.”
“…misunderstand?” What was there to misunderstand? Just few hours ago, he had witnessed a brutal slaughter, blood shed with no regrets. Could they be justified, these cold hearted murderers?
Ding ignored Liu Bei's secret thoughts and continued.
“Right, narrow minded people say that we only massacre the innocent and plunder them of their riches. But you should also know that there are many provinces that honor our chief Chang, almost like a god.”
‘What does that have to do with anything?’ Liu Bei thought.
“I will briefly explain how our Huan league came to be,” Ding said.
His story was roughly something like this.
* * *
About ten years ago, in Qi village, there lived an anonymous man named Chang Ki. Villagers said that Chang was a genius to be seen in several decades. Moreover, he always used a yellow ribbon to bind his hair.*
One day, Chang went into a nearby mountain to grub some medicinal herbs. He used dry herbs and garlic to treat sick people when needed. As he picked out several fresh laurel leaves, the weather suddenly changed and there came a strong wind.
Chang looked up and saw an old man standing in the midst of the wind. Short of stature and stiff as a dead tree, but he had such an aura of dignity that Chang could not help but feel his knees weaken. The thin lips were tight shut. His eyes, though worn for many ages, held wisdom. Chang could guess where the sudden change of the weather came from, for soon the wind cleared and the wizard spoke.
“Chang, I have waited for you for a long time. There is something I want to give you. Follow me.”
As if enchanted by the wizard's magic, Chang got up without hesitation and followed, his laurel leaves instantly forgotten behind him. The wizard led him through a path that he had never seen. Alongside the path, strange plants grew that he not know the names to (which was rare for Chang). He tripped over the clumps of thorn vines and watched with wonder as carnivorous plants uncluttered the road of vermins. Also, no matter how hard he tried, he could not remember where he had been the previous moment. The way seemed long and short at the same time and though he had no knowledge of what he was doing, one thing was sure: he would never find that path again.
Finally, the wizard stopped at a remote cave, invisible to wild animals and humans alike. Chang would not have noticed if the wizard hadn't uncovered his magic.
“Pray come in,” he said.
The cave path reeked of the mystery and the air that had not been ventilated for decades. Oddly enough, Chang felt strangely comfortable. His eyes soon adapted to the darkness, and he felt his sore legs soothe. To the heart of the cave the wizard led him. Finally, they came to a stop. Chang marveled at what he saw.
Twelve candles burned brightly lighting the wizard's small chamber. It consisted of a desk, a rug and numerous sets of books stacked against the cave walls, that Chang could hardly count. On the desk, three noble scrolls sat. The magician picked them up.
“These are ‘Wizardry for Peace,’ the books that I want to leave in your care. Master these, and cure this great disorder in China. Lead your people in the right paths to do good works.”
“These books, for me...” Chang stuttered. He felt sweat upon his brow.
“But...” the wizard continued, as his face grew sterner.
“If you look for your own riches and honors, or bear evil thoughts and indulge in greed, you will incur the Heaven's vengeance upon you. To the best of your ability, grave my words on your heart and carry those precepts into practice,” he said, his face still austere as ever.
“Oh, Master! Please let me know your name at least!” Chang exclaimed, for now the old magician was disappearing into the hazy smoke. But his cry came too late. The candles went out, and soon he was left alone in the darkness. Weariness came over him and sleep stirred in his eyes. He held on to the three scrolls, and wondering if it all had not been a dream, he drifted into a trance.
* * *
Chang opened his eyes. A familiar surrounding greeted him. He was in his room. Blinking, he felt his fingers under the sheets still grabbing tight onto the three scrolls that the wizard had given him. How long has it been since? He sat up and looked out the window. The red sun hung between the two hills outside the village. While he reminisced upon the wizard's words, Jio the housemaid came in.
“Welcome back, Master! You've finally come back to yourself,” she exclaimed cheerfully.
“How long was I sleeping?” Chang asked.
“Oh dear Master. It has been three nights and three days since the village men found you in the mountains. It's a miracle that the wild animals didn't touch you while you were unconscious! The villagers are saying that you must be God's favorite son. You've never opened your eyes once, and never let go of those scrolls. They must be pretty important to you, huh?” she babbled along with a cheeky smile.
“Yeah,” Chang responded, smiling weakly. “Will you get me some gruel? I feel hungry,” he added.
“Sure thing. I can't imagine what you've been through. Be patient for just one more minute!” Jio ran out of the room in joy.
‘She must be tired, tending me all this time,’ he thought. But after seeing her weariness – although she tried so hard to hide – and worn-out clothes, not out in Luoyang's slums but right here in his tranquil country house, Chang decided that he could not wait. He locked the door. He opened up the first scroll, and begun reading.
Jio must have had a hard time when she came back with his meal that night.
* * *
It has been a hundred days since Chang shut himself up in his room. For the first few weeks, the village was in a ferment about how a legendary wizard came and spoke to their sage about saving China. But that heat slowly died away.
As if to forget about the summer's hustle and Chang's existence altogether, the season, too, was now nearing the autumn. Golden ginkgo and cherry maple leaves begun to appear on the street corners. It was unusually quiet. A traveler would have thought that the village was going through just another seasonal change. But that was not all. Laughters ceased and the children were nowhere to be seen. Crunchy leaves remained where they had fallen, without young intruders to step on them.
It was the most deadly epidemic that generation had ever seen in all countrysides. Of course, Chang's village was not an exception. Numerous victims, now cold, were daily sent to the funeral palours out of town.
One sunny morning with no clouds to hide its brightness, Chang stepped out of his room. “My time has come,” he said to himself. All day, he went from household to household with sick persons, and gave them medicine. To men, golden pillets. To women, silver pillets. To children, red pillets.
The secret medicine had a marvelous effect such that people got up after a few days. Villagers' joy could not be expressed in words, and such a miracle story spread with wind's speed from village to village. To see the savior just once, also to be Chang's pupils, many marched in groups to Qi village from all of China. Poor, rich, women, giants, swordsmen,... they belonged to all levels of social strata.
The number of Chang's pupils grew like a snowball, and they all tied their hair with yellow ribbon to imitate him. Chang divided those numerous followers into different ranks, and made his brothers Chang Bo and Chang Liang, General Di¹ and General Ren² , respectively, bestowing the largest authority over all. Then Chang Ki** himself reigned over two generals and became the Great Commander, General Tian.³
The yellow ribbon became the league's ensign in no time, and it earned them such a name, “Huans.” All the banners were yellow as well, and on the chief banner, such was written:
Blue sky has already disappeared.
The time for Men of Yellow to rise has come.
In Jia-Zi***, the heavens and the earth rejoice.
That's how Huan league begun its operation. “Under the present Emperor, the anticipation of prosperity is laughable. We will build a new world with our own hands,” General Tian remarked at the beginning. He promised peace and pleasure to those who obeyed him, and killed without hesitation those who dared to oppose him. In return, a great wealth awaited all.
Huans' increased in power and size swiftly. An idea of one province's army facing them was utterly absurd. Desperate tidings were sent to Emperor Xing in Luoyang almost daily, requesting reinforcements. Such efforts proved futile, however. Emperor Xing was only twelve years old and was a mere babe in the ways of the world. To make matters worse, senior statesmen treated Emperor with a contempt and discharged the lieges with truthful advice.
In such a fearful time for its people, an ill omen appeared in Chinese royal palace. A black serpent dropped before the son of Heaven****. Startled, the guards killed the snake instantly. Lo and behold, dark clouds veiled the skies, a great wind accompanied with hailstones shook the royal palace, and a heavy rain came for three days and three nights in the royal city.
Luoyang suffered greatly from this flood. The houses under water were over a ten thousand, and the houses torn down were several thousands. Countless drowned, and with those who survived, panic and despair enveloped the streets of Luoyang. More people started enlisting in Huan league, and enjoyed full-measure their newfound paradise on earth through slaughter and pillage. The phrase “Blue sky has already disappeared” had spread vigorously ever since, and presently Huans' power reaches up to eight provinces.
* * *
¹ Di means earth.
² Ren means people.
³ Tian means sky.
* In ancient China and other Asian countries, men had long hair. They tied them in a bun with a ribbon.
** Throughout this story, for cultural differences' sakes, I'm going to write a character's family name before their first name. In general, however, they will be referred to with their last names.
*** The year of Jia-Zi, 甲子, is the first year of the sexagenarian cycle, which was used in ancient Asian countries, and still commonly used to this day. The first year is commonly referred to as the Year of the Rat.
**** Another name for an emperor.
* * *
"Crunchy leaves remained where they had fallen, without young intruders to step on them."
ReplyDeleteLOL, please tell me that's a reference to the facebook group.