Chapter Thirty-Three: The Loyalty of the Storm (Part Two)

Zheng Renji’s face had gone deathly pale. He stared at Yan Shigu, lost in thought.

For a long while, he forced a smile and swallowed hard before saying, “You exaggerate, brother. Besides, who’s to say for certain that Zheng Yanqing is the Young Master of the Goose? We can’t be sure just yet.”

Exaggerate? If only it were an exaggeration!

Deep down, Zheng Renji knew that Yan Shigu had not overstated a thing. If Zheng Yanqing truly was the Young Master of the Goose, and if Yang Su became displeased with him, his own future would be utterly ruined. Without prospects, how could Zheng Renji hope to maintain his footing in Anyuan Hall? It would become nearly impossible... And who could say that the other branches of the Zheng clan would not use this as an opportunity to strike?

In these times, there are always many who will embellish your success, but even more who will kick you when you’re down.

“Whether I exaggerate or not will be clear as soon as the Young Master of the Goose’s identity is revealed. As for whether Zheng Yanqing is truly the Young Master—there’s a simple way to find out. Summon Shiji and ask him. Have you forgotten? It was in Yanshi that Yanqing met Shiji, and the Young Master of the Goose first made his name at the Yanshi Restaurant. One question will settle it all.”

Without another thought, Zheng Renji hurriedly ordered someone to fetch Xu Shiji.

Xu Shiji had not slept. With tonight’s chaos in the Zheng household, how could he possibly rest? He had wanted to rush out and speak on Yanqing’s behalf. He believed that anyone capable of composing “Riding Alone for a Thousand Miles” or “Mind in Han Though Body in Cao’s Camp” could never stoop to petty theft. But he could not leave, for Zheng Renji had ordered that no one was to leave their rooms without permission.

So Xu Shiji waited anxiously in his quarters.

When Zheng Renji summoned him, he followed the servant to the study without delay.

“Shiji, I must ask you—do you know about the Young Master of the Goose?”

Zheng Renji, flustered and disordered, seized Xu Shiji’s arm the moment he entered and pressed him with his question.

Xu Shiji was quick-witted and instantly grasped the meaning behind Zheng Renji’s words.

“Uncle Zheng, Yanqing is the Young Master of the Goose!”

“Ah...”

Whatever Zheng Renji had meant to say next was swallowed by Xu Shiji’s sudden declaration.

Yan Shigu quickly asked, “Shiji, are you certain?”

“Of course I’m certain,” Xu Shiji replied. “That day, when my father heard that Master Sun Simiao was in town, he asked Steward Zheng to set a banquet for him at the Shouyang Restaurant. The grandson of Du Guo, Minister of Works, Du Ruhui, was there as well. My father and I both attended. During the meal, Master Sun mentioned the story of Wang Xizhi’s love of geese. There were several white geese outside the window by the pond, so Elder Brother Du joked that Yanqing should compose a poem about geese.”

“And then?” Yan Shigu prompted.

Xu Shiji continued, “At first, Yanqing tried to decline, but Master Sun joined in the jest and stirred his interest. In fact, it was Master Sun who ground the ink for him. Yanqing then wrote his poem on the geese right there in the restaurant:

Goose, goose, goose,
Long necks singing to the sky.
White feathers float upon green water,
Red webbed feet stir the clear waves...

Master Sun then asked him what style of calligraphy he’d used. Yanqing replied offhandedly: ‘Ode to the Goose.’ Afterwards, Master Sun remained in Luoyang for a few more days, teaching Yanqing some martial arts. It was just a few days before Steward Cui arrived that Master Sun departed Luoyang.”

As if to prove his words, Xu Shiji recited the “Ode to the Goose” from memory.

In truth, having mentioned both Sun Simiao and Du Ruhui, he had already convinced Yan Shigu and Zheng Renji.

Clutching his chest, Zheng Renji’s face was ashen. “You—you—you... Why did you not say this sooner?”

“Yanqing forbade me to speak of it. He told me that even if I did, no one would believe me, and it would only invite ridicule. He said that poetry and calligraphy are minor arts, meant to cultivate one’s temperament and for personal amusement. The Zheng family is famed for its study of the classics and histories; we should devote ourselves to scholarship, to self-cultivation, to managing our families, governing the state, and bringing peace to the realm—that is the true path. He warned that if word spread and others believed it, he would be burdened by fame and unable to pursue his studies in peace. So I told no one...”

These words, of course, were merely excuses Zheng Yanqing had devised to avoid trouble. Yet in the ears of Yan Shigu and Zheng Renji, they rang like mighty bells, leaving the two men speechless for a long time.

“Elder brother, oh elder brother, do you know what you have missed?” Yan Shigu closed his eyes, and in his mind’s eye, he saw Yanqing in white robes, reading amidst the birdsong and the fragrance of flowers in the countryside. No longer just a mere boy, but graceful and radiant, stirring Yan Shigu to murmur softly, “Madam has led me astray, madam has led me astray!”

Zheng Renji felt a tightness in his chest, as if a mouthful of blood was rising in his throat. Unable to hold it back, he spat out a mouthful of fresh blood and collapsed to the floor.

“Brother, wake up! Wake up!”

“Someone, quickly! Help—!”

Yan Shigu and Xu Shiji were thrown into confusion. One clutched Zheng Renji, the other ran to the door, shouting for help.

It was a long while before Zheng Renji finally regained consciousness.

The study was now packed with people. Madam Cui knelt beside him, cradling her young daughter, tears streaming down her cheeks.

For reasons he could not explain, Zheng Renji suddenly felt a wave of inexplicable aversion toward Madam Cui. He turned his head away and caught sight of Zheng Hongyi.

In that instant, Zheng Renji understood the pains Zheng Dashi had taken. Why had Zheng Dashi sent Zheng Shian and his grandson? Surely he too had seen that Zheng Yanqing was destined for greatness. Anyuan Hall was in decline; while Zheng Dashi lived, it could be held together, but once he was gone, could Zheng Renji hold it alone? He was no martial hero, and the spirit of Anyuan Hall was founded on martial prowess. As a poet and man of letters, Zheng Renji might thrive, but as a mere scholar, could he command respect in Anyuan Hall and keep the other branches in line? It would be a daunting task.

Thus, Zheng Renji might barely preserve Anyuan Hall, but if the third generation—Zheng Hongyi—failed to rise, the hall would face ruin. Hongyi alone could not bear the burden. Even the greatest hero needs allies. Hongyi needed someone to help him.

And so Zheng Dashi had sent Zheng Shian and his grandson to Luoyang to give Hongyi a helper!

Alas...

Zheng Renji closed his eyes. “Send someone at once—bring Zheng Yanqing back to me!”

“What?” Madam Cui was still at a loss as to what had transpired. Hearing Zheng Renji’s order, she stood stunned.

“What are you waiting for? Go at once and invite Steward Zheng and his grandson back... Shiji, you and Hongyi go together. Master Yan, I must trouble you as well.”

Yan Shigu understood all too well: if Zheng Yanqing returned to Xingyang, things would become even more complicated.

One who eats the lord’s bread must serve the lord with loyalty!

Without another word, he rose and strode out. “Shiji, Hongyi, you two come with me. Let’s catch up to Zheng Yanqing.”

By now, the first light of dawn was breaking...

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