Chapter Seven: The Husky (Part One)

Early in the morning, a crowd had already gathered in front of the Luoyang County government office.

Since the founding of the Great Sui Dynasty, this was the first diplomatic incident to spark such a stir, naturally drawing the attention of many. Ever since yesterday’s event, the people of Luoyang had begun speculating on how the matter would be resolved. Among them were some elderly scholars who shook their heads solemnly as they voiced their opinions. Their views were remarkably similar: after all, the Great Sui was the illustrious central kingdom, and it should embrace magnanimity, educating the barbarians overseas with benevolence and virtue, and so on.

This sentiment led many to feel pessimistic about the fate of Xiong Dahai.

Of course, there were dissenting voices. Some insisted that it was those barbarians from the Wa nation who had injured a Great Sui citizen on the road. Xiong Dahai had stepped in to stop the chaos, only then clashing with the Wa envoy’s guards. Furthermore, the Wa people had struck first and only killed Xiong Dahai because they were overpowered. Why then should Xiong Dahai pay with his life? Did the lives of Great Sui’s subjects hold no value?

There were quite a few who held this view, yet they found it hard to refute the scholars’ talk of “benevolent teaching.”

In any case, the incident had stirred great interest, so much so that the county office was packed early that morning.

Zheng Yanqing did not join the crowd but instead settled in a quiet, secluded little tea house nearby.

In truth, it wasn’t much of a tea house, more accurately a small eatery selling steamed buns and soup cakes. Many customers did not dine there but bought food to take away, which kept the place relatively peaceful. Yanqing ordered a bowl of soup cake for Mao Xiaonian and sat under the tea canopy, watching the passersby and listening to the seemingly casual conversations between the shopkeeper and patrons.

There was nothing more he could do.

Although going to the county office might draw some attention, it could not sway the judgment of a fifth-rank county magistrate.

Rather than join the crowd for the spectacle, it was better to sit here and listen to the idle chatter.

Zheng Shian, Xiong Dahai’s close friend, and some old neighborhood fellows, however, could not rest easy and all gathered at the county office to hear the verdict.

As Xiong Dahai’s friend put it, “At least when Da Hei sees us, he won’t be too scared!”

“Young master, why aren’t you eating?” Mao Xiaonian asked softly.

Yanqing was listening to the shopkeeper's conversation with a customer when he replied quietly, “I’m not very hungry right now; you eat quickly. The county magistrate’s verdict shouldn’t take long—it’ll probably be over soon.”

Mao Xiaonian wanted to say more but didn’t know how to begin.

“The verdict is out! The county magistrate has made his decision!”

Just then, a boy hurried over, panting. “Father, the county magistrate has given his verdict!”

“Is it the death penalty or what?”

Not only was the tea house owner interested, but many customers buying food or dining there also leaned in.

“You won’t believe it... hehe, it’s three years’ imprisonment,” the boy said proudly.

“Huh?” One customer seemed disappointed. “There was a death! Only three years in prison? That’s too lenient!”

This fellow was the type who always wished for trouble.

Zheng Yanqing frowned and glanced at him, feeling some displeasure: Could it be that they wouldn’t be satisfied until Xiong Dahai was dead?

---

“Why do you speak like that? The Wa almost hurt a Great Sui citizen. Xiong Dahai only intervened to protect him, and the Wa guards attacked first. Judging by your tone, do you think the lives of Great Sui’s subjects are worth less than those of the Wa?” a customer retorted.

“I didn’t say that...”

“Enough quarrelling. Listen to Xiao Liu explain what really happened,” someone said.

Not everyone could crowd outside the Luoyang county office to watch the commotion, but that did not mean they were indifferent. After three centuries of turmoil, the Great Sui had entered a splendid era. The construction of the new Luo city and the excavation of the Grand Canal, while taxing on the people, were nothing compared to years of constant war.

Perhaps it was precisely because they had emerged from a dark age that commoners felt a strong sense of pride, more so than the old scholars. For a foreign barbarian to demand the life of a mere commoner of Great Sui was hard for many to accept. Thus, people eagerly asked the shopkeeper.

The waiter, named Xiao Liu, said with a hint of pride, “The complaint from the Court of Petitions claimed Xiong Dahai killed with a swinging knife. Xiong Dahai didn’t deny killing anyone in court, so the magistrate decided that since it was a swinging knife kill, it was unintentional. According to the Kaihuang Code, if it’s unintentional, then the death penalty shouldn’t apply. So he was sentenced to only three years in prison.”

Zheng Yanqing took five copper coins from his pocket and placed them on the table.

“Xiaonian, let’s go.”

He no longer needed to listen. Everything was as he had anticipated. Xiong Dahai was even spared the thirty lashes; nothing could be more satisfactory than this outcome. Moreover, from the common folk’s chatter, Yanqing gathered that the people of Luoyang had few objections to the verdict. This was important because the Supervisory Court sometimes reopened controversial cases based on public sentiment.

If the people of Luoyang had no complaints, then it depended on the Wa nation’s response.

If the Wa expressed no objection, the Supervisory Court would not interfere, and the matter would be closed. In three years, when Xiong Dahai was released, he would still be a respected hero.

Zheng Yanqing dreaded any reversal of this case.

If the Supervisory Court called for a retrial, it would be a torment not only for Xiong Dahai but for the entire Zheng family.

But what stance would the Wa take?

Yanqing could not influence that and could only watch silently from the sidelines.

“Xiaonian, your grandfather and the others have probably gone to the county jail. You should go meet them,” Yanqing said as he mounted his blue donkey at the street corner.

He did not ride the Jade Hooved Steed back into the city. After yesterday’s inexplicable conflict, Yanqing had to be cautious. The blue donkey, though inferior to the Jade Hooved Steed, was gentle and unlikely to attract trouble.

Xiaonian asked, “Young master, aren’t you coming back?”

“I must go to Datong City. A few days ago, Mr. Luopu sent someone with a message saying he acquired some Han and Wei dynasty epitaph rubbings.

“You know, in a month it will be Brother Du’s birthday. When he took office in Chang’an County, I didn’t have a suitable gift for him. He likes epitaph rubbings, so I’ll go have a look. If I find something fitting, I’ll give it to Brother Du.”

“Then let me accompany you,” Xiaonian said, a trace of hope in her voice.

Zheng Yanqing shook his head. “No need. You should return first. Your grandparents are old; they probably didn’t rest well last night and will need your care.”

Xiaonian felt a little disappointed but showed none of it.

She nodded and turned to leave.

---

The county jail was not far from here, just past a neighborhood along Shangchun Gate Street, so there was no need to worry.

Yanqing rode his donkey through the warm sunshine of late autumn.

Though somewhat desolate, the sunlight was pleasant on his skin. The county office was north of the Luo River, and to reach Datong City, Yanqing had to cross the river and travel a long way. That was also why he didn’t want Xiaonian to follow. Such a long journey on a donkey—would she walk?

Crossing the Tianjin Bridge outside Duan Gate, he glanced at the notice board beneath it. Many still stopped to read it, and from the crowd, he heard people reciting his “Romance of the Three Kingdoms” in varying tones.

Yanqing smiled and urged Little Blue onward.

He knew well how the world judged his “Romance of the Three Kingdoms.” Many said he was talentless now, even throwing mud at him... but that was exactly what he wanted. It was best to avoid being a literary thief. After studying hard for three years, he had mastered some poetry and rhyme techniques, but that didn’t mean he could produce masterpieces that would endure through the ages. Unless absolutely necessary, it was better not to attempt such things.

There were other reasons too.

In the second year of the Daye era, last year, Emperor Yang of Sui appointed Xue Daoheng as secretary supervisor, which drew Yanqing’s attention. Xue Daoheng was from the Xue clan of Fenyin in Hedong and a renowned scholar. During the Kaihuang years, he had been exiled to Lingnan after being accused of forming cliques. At that time, Yang Guang was stationed at Jiangdu and admired Xue’s talent. He secretly sent someone to Chang’an to summon Xue through Yangzhou, intending to keep him there and later report to his father to make Xue his advisor, sparing the need to send him to Lingnan.

Yang Guang’s intentions were benevolent, cherishing Xue’s talent.

But Xue, for some inexplicable reason, acted like a scholar at a critical moment. Just as they neared Jiangdu, he abruptly changed course to Jiangling, bypassing Jiangdu and dealing Yang Guang a harsh blow to his pride.

Yang Guang harbored a grudge over this.

After ascending the throne, he still reappointed Xue Daoheng, recognizing his outstanding talent.

Yet when Xue arrived in Chang’an, he submitted a piece titled “Ode to Emperor Gaozu,” which enraged Yang Guang. Privately, he told Minister Su Wei, “Daoheng praises the former dynasty but this is the meaning of ‘Fish and Algae.’”

“Fish and Algae” is a poem from the Book of Songs.

According to its preface, it praises King Wu of Zhou while mocking King You of Zhou.

Yang Guang’s pride was such that he could not tolerate such humiliation. Whether or not Xue was truly mocking him, the sting had taken root in Yang Guang’s heart. In fact, Xue Daoheng was later executed by Yang Guang for allegedly criticizing court affairs. How could a minister not comment on politics? Anyway, when the emperor accuses you, even innocence can become guilt.

Zheng Yanqing vaguely remembered a historical record: after Xue Daoheng’s death, Yang Guang once said, “Let’s see if you can still compose verses like ‘Swallows fall on empty beams with mud.’”

Better not have Yang Guang fix his gaze on him, lest it end with, “Let’s see if you can still write ‘A gentleman would rather burn to death than serve an unjust lord.’”

Therefore, under these circumstances, Yanqing released his “Romance of the Three Kingdoms.” On one hand, it kept people’s attention on him; on the other, it served as a means to tarnish his own reputation. A win-win situation—why not?

—
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Well, that’s about 300,000 words now... ^_^