Chapter 269: Making the Barbarians

Yanxian is weak and ill, and it's unlikely he will recover. Previously, when he first fell ill, I feared it would not end here...

Inside the prefectural office of Wenyang, the newly appointed prefect, Director Liu Tan Tan, stood before his desk, swiftly writing as if dragons were dancing, copying Lu Ji's "Pingfu Tie." When he reached the line "Zi Yang came initially to stay, but I could not fully understand," his brush hesitated; thick ink spilled from the central stroke, spreading like a dark cloud, swallowing half of the character "Yang."

Lu Ji's "Pingfu Tie" is now housed in the Palace Museum. Even among the museum's countless treasures, this piece is unquestionably one of its crown jewels; in the image, the most prominent double-dragon seal...

(Continuing from the previous illustration: The most prominent double-dragon seal is Emperor Huizong of Song's personal stamp; the red clay characters directly above it were written by the emperor himself. During the Republic era, the descendants of Prince Gong sold off their family's treasures, including the "Zhaoye Bai Tu" and the "Pingfu Tie." The former was eventually sold to a British collector and now resides in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York; the latter was also targeted by dealers eager to sell it to Japan, but fortunately, Mr. Zhang Boju intervened with all his efforts to preserve this national treasure. See the next illustration for the colophons.)

Director Liu Tan Tan put down his brush, his brow furrowed in worry, and sighed:

"Ordinary people writing with thick ink seek weight and depth, but end up with stiff, lifeless strokes. Yet Lu Pingyuan, using a worn brush and coarse paper, wrote casually—and yet achieved natural perfection. This vital spirit within the heart is the hardest to attain. True masterful grace cannot be forced by mere technique..."

Lord Liu, a man of both literary and martial excellence, had been followed faithfully by Feng Feng Yilin for years, who had gained considerable insight. He glanced at Director Liu Tan Tan's writing and said:

"Lord Liu says that the second son is the one who best captures his calligraphic essence. Your brush's break at the character 'Yang'—perhaps you're worried whether Wang Yang will safely reach Wenyang Gorge? But you needn't fear: along this route, there are only scattered barbarian tribes, and our men are all seasoned warriors. Wang's personal guards are the cream of the crop, especially that girl who wields the spear—I've only glimpsed a few of her moves, and though I couldn't discern her style, her bearing clearly bears the mark of a master's lineage. With so many elite protectors, there's little danger."

Director Liu Tan Tan replied with deep concern:

"Uncle Feng is right—but... I'm not just worried about that. Wang Yang foresaw the barbarian ambush—how did he know? Of course, he's from the Langya Wang clan, and he has his own methods. But why didn't he report it? Was it mere distrust of others, or did he intend to exploit this situation for some hidden agenda? And what of A Shen? He was raised in luxury, surrounded by servants, frowning at even a crease in his robes, refusing to eat if his food wasn't perfect—how could he endure such hardship? He's proud, vain, and refuses to bow his head. If the barbarians intend to humiliate him, how will he bear it? I only pray they're drawn by the value of silk and respect his status enough to avoid... to avoid going too far..."

Director Liu Tan Tan's voice choked off; he dared not dwell on the fate of his younger brother, for such thoughts made life unbearable. He could only, almost self-deceivingly, extinguish one terrifying notion after another.

Feng Feng Yilin immediately reassured him:

These barbarians seek profit; how could they possibly neglect Fourth Young Master? They will surely treat him well, waiting for a ransom. Besides, our Duke's mighty reputation strikes fear into all the barbarians—they dare not act recklessly.

"I hope so... But right now, what worries me most is what Wang Yang will do after entering the barbarian territory. He's not an imperial envoy—he holds no imperial edict or credentials. How will he gain their trust? I thought his uncle would accompany him; at least Wang Yi represented the court and could speak with authority. But now Wang Yang is alone—how can he persuade the barbarians?"

Even if he had official rank, imperial credentials, and an entire delegation with him—what then?

Would the barbarians kneel to receive an imperial decree? Would they willingly release captives upon hearing vague words about opening trade without formal treaties? Impossible! I've already followed his orders and mobilized the Wenyang troops—I understand he wants to intimidate them, but can barbarians truly be frightened so easily? I've thought and rethought it, and I see no path to his success. I fear he won't rescue A Shen—he'll only walk into the tiger's den himself..."

"Right now, I'd kill for a roasted lamb leg."

Wang Yang's party entered Wenyang Gorge, where the cliffs shimmered in the sunlight, the streams clear as polished mirrors, the azure sky washed clean, and light danced everywhere—every step felt refreshing, every sight invigorating. But no amount of beauty could soothe an empty stomach; Wang Yang hadn't eaten well in days, and now he couldn't help but sigh.

The "heroes" had long departed. Wang's four guards had injured Li Lin and Sima Sima Sima Sima Sima Sima Qian Zhan, so Wang Yang ordered them to return with the wounded Liu family guards to recuperate. The remaining escort consisted of Chen Chen Chen Qingshan, Zhao Fei, Sun Ju, and thirteen Liu family guards.

Upon hearing this, everyone laughed. Sun Ju said: "If the young master permits a fire, I'll hunt some wild game—I can't promise wild sheep, but rabbits? No problem."

The mention of food stirred everyone's appetites, and they all eagerly agreed.

Seeing their spirits high, Wang Yang joined in cheerfully:

"Perfect! If we haven't reached the barbarian camp by tonight, let's have an open-air barbecue. Everyone show your skills! I'm not picky—anything that flies, runs, or swims, if it tastes good, bring it! And I won't let you work for free: I'll pay ten times market price for every wild delicacy!"

Everyone erupted in cheers and applause!!!

"I'll get you some wild pheasants!"

"Great! We'll skewer the hearts together and roast them!"

"I'll catch fish! I'm the best at fishing!"

"Catch plenty—half roasted, half stewed."

"Young master, do you want mushrooms? I'll go gather some!"

"You'd better know which ones are poisonous!"

"Young master, do you pay ten times market price for bear paws too?"

Chen Chen Chen Qingshan tightened her grip on her spear, when Wang Yang said:

"Skip the bear paws—not because of the cost, but because we're all enjoying a meal together. One less person ruins the feast."

"Hahaha!"

Everyone burst into uncontrollable laughter!

After enduring countless dangers, they finally reached barbarian territory. Everyone was in high spirits. Though they didn't know the exact location of the barbarian camp, they assumed the barbarians would come to them—after all, they were deep in barbarian land; if the Wenyang barbarians hadn't noticed their presence, they'd be utterly incompetent. And unlike the Yi Du barbarians, who burned captured Han people alive, the Wenyang barbarians weren't friendly to the Han, but neither were they outright hostile. Generally, they didn't attack travelers. So their nerves relaxed. As they chatted merrily, suddenly—two scouts ahead shouted a warning!

Everyone instantly halted and went on guard. Chen Chen Chen Qingshan stepped forward, spear raised, shielding Wang Yang.

From the crevices on either side of the path rose over a dozen barbarians: cone-shaped hair, bone earrings, short bows in hand, half-hidden in shadow.

Wang Yang opened his folding fan; Chen Chen Chen Qingshan stepped back to his side.

Wang Yang, waving his fan, called out loudly: "I am Wang Yang of Langya, envoy of the Great Qi!"

Wang Yang rode on horseback, his eyes covered with a black cloth, listening to the crisp sound of hooves on gravel.

The barbarians led the reins ahead; Chen Chen Chen Qingshan and the others were barred from following—only Wang Yang was allowed to proceed.

Wang Yang felt the path grow steeper; a cold, damp mountain wind carried the scent of trees and grass, and faintly, the roar of distant waterfalls echoed in his ears.

Six barbarians accompanied him, occasionally speaking in their tongue. Suddenly, one blurted out stiff Han Chinese: "Best Han meat, cook and eat."

The others immediately echoed: "Yes, yes!"

Wang Yang nodded and joined in: "Yes, yes."

The barbarians froze, then burst into laughter, assuming the Han man had been driven mad by fear and was babbling nonsense. They prepared to terrify him further for amusement—when Wang Yang, calmly and unhurriedly, continued:

"Best buttock meat boiled, best thigh meat roasted, too-tough thigh meat boiled, best banana leaf-wrapped heart and liver steamed."

The barbarians' laughter died instantly.

They stared at Wang Yang, stunned and uncertain.

After a long silence, one barbarian ventured: "How do you know these things?"

Wang Yang countered: "I was born in the Land of Chaos—how could I not know?"

The barbarians exchanged glances, confused. Another asked: "How could someone from the Land of Chaos know this?"

Wang Yang replied in astonishment: "Those born in the Land of Chaos eat humans by ten, hunt humans by fifteen, consume seventy-two hearts and livers, and only then are they permitted to leave. You don't know this?"

What kind of hellish place is this!!!!!!!

The barbarians, who had intended to frighten Wang Yang, were now terrified themselves. Several dark-skinned men turned pale; two burly ones stepped aside, wary of getting too close.

The barbarian who had first proposed the joke, though trembling, still clung to disbelief: "That place doesn't exist—you're lying!"

Wang Yang smiled contemptuously and opened his folding fan: "Do you know what this is?"

The barbarian, neck stiff, demanded: "What is it?"

"Each time I finish eating a whole person, a notch is carved. I'm ashamed—I've eaten eighteen by this year. My younger brother, two years younger than me, has twenty-one notches."

Then Wang Yang vividly recounted the story of his life before leaving the Land of Chaos (three hundred and thirty-one words omitted here), so horrifying it turned cannibals pale and made Hannibal beg for mercy.

From then on, until they delivered Wang Yang to the barbarian village gate, not a word was spoken. After hastily handing over the "Living Demon" to the guards, each of them rushed off to vomit.

Wang Yang rode a short distance before being ordered to dismount. One barbarian handed him a wooden stick, using it to guide his direction. As he walked, he sensed more people joining him.

After walking further, the noise around him grew louder. As a few barbarian shouts echoed nearby, silence returned. A few steps later, the group suddenly halted. Then a woman's voice, commanding and forceful, erupted in rapid barbarian speech. The attendants tried to intervene, but she shouted them down. The crowd parted, and the woman seized Wang Yang's wrist, speaking in smoother, more fluent Chinese: "Come with me."

Wang Yang made no resistance, no retreat—he simply followed.

The barbarian soldiers escorting him stirred uneasily. Wang Yang heard the clatter of weapons and several panicked pleas. The woman ignored them all, striding swiftly, dragging Wang Yang into a tent.

——————

Note: Literary aesthetics evolve with the times, and calligraphy is no exception. Although Lu Ji was a representative calligrapher of the Western Jin, many ancients revered him. Today, however, few practice copying the "Pingfu Tie"—first, because aesthetic tastes have changed; second, because it is extremely difficult to replicate. In current popular trends, it's easier to emulate Wang Wang Xizhi or Su Jing. Still, though not widely copied, it is not rare among those well-versed in calligraphy history—masters like Qi Gong, Huang Binhong, and Cao Baolin have all copied it. Those who do usually study its semi-cursive script, yet the text also contains clerical script elements (as Wu Sheng noted: "The cursive resembles seal and clerical script, with extraordinary brushwork"), its strokes deeply archaic, echoing techniques found in the Loulan fragments.