Chapter 74: Gongsun Shu

Colonel, Commandery Governor, and Grand Governor are all titles for commandery-level officials in the Xin Dynasty, equivalent to Governor under the Han — but Diwu Lun still has no idea what the difference between the three actually is.

He had assumed they were titles tied to different noble ranks, but Gongsun Shu holds neither a marquis nor a count title, yet he is called Colonel — truly baffling. Who knows what rules Wang Mang laid down.

This Gongsun Shu, courtesy name Ziyang, hails from Maoling, the same commandery as old acquaintances Ma Yuan and Wan Xiu. As soon as he arrived, he claimed hometown ties with Diwu Lun and the others. Compared to the local Shu accent, his Guanzhong speech sounded quite warm and familiar.

After bowing three times before Yang Xiong's tomb mound, Gongsun Shu lamented: "Since I entered Shu to take office, I have often heard people recite and praise Ziyun's rhapsodies, and I have grown deeply fond of them. Ziyun was a once-in-an-age talent — what a pity he never gained proper employment and died in the capital."

"Why linger long in Chang'an? Better to have returned home early. I would certainly have appointed him Libationer and Elder of this commandery, supporting him with a generous stipend!"

Gongsun Shu turned around, fixed his gaze on Diwu Lun, who was holding the funeral banner, and directly clasped his hands. With the manner of a superior condescending to inquire, he said mournfully: "You must not grieve so. Long ago, Chang Hong died in Shu; his blood was stored for three years and turned into jade. Ziyun's soul, too, shall endure forever in Shu, serving as teacher and model for the local scholars!"

With that, he also had men present a hundred bolts of silk as his funeral contribution for Yang Xiong.

This was an exceedingly generous gift. Coupled with these words, it moved Hou Ba and Wang Long to tears, and they felt that Gongsun Shu was a fine commandery lord who treated scholars with courtesy and respect.

Even Diwu Lun developed a rather favorable impression of Gongsun Shu. After all, Yang Xiong had met cold reception all his life; it was rare to meet someone who appreciated him. Since the Colonel of Daojiang showed such an attitude, there was no need to worry about their teacher's posthumous affairs.

The group needed to build a hut in front of the tomb and stay for several days, only leaving once the full forty-nine-day mourning period was complete. Because the journey had taken so long, that day would be the day after tomorrow.

Gongsun Shu then invited them, once the funeral rites were finished, to share a meal together in Pi County and talk at leisure.

Diwu Lun and the others had intended to politely decline, but Huan Tan — though he inwardly disapproved of Gongsun Shu's words and conduct — brightened when the earnest invitation came and, on Diwu Lun's behalf, promptly accepted.

"This past month and more, keeping these three filial disciples company on a diet of plain vegetables and bean-leaf stew, this old man has grown thin. Colonel Gongsun, that banquet of yours had better be a lavish one!"

……

Three days later, the funeral affairs were largely concluded. Although Diwu Lun and the others still wore plain mourning clothes, they could now visit another's residence to attend a gathering — though wine and meat were still forbidden.

"This Gongsun Ziyang certainly puts on a grand display."

No sooner had they reached the Pi County office than Huan Tan let out a puff of laughter and made this remark.

Diwu Lun looked, and indeed — if the day before yesterday Gongsun Shu had rushed over from his administrative seat at Linqiong upon hearing the news of Yang Xiong's burial, today he had brought out the full ceremonial retinue of a two-thousand-bushel commandery official.

Before the county office gates, four foot soldiers cleared the way; an axe-chariot led the vanguard; drum-and-fife chariots swelled the pomp; five subordinate clerks from his staff guided and followed; four mounted clerks served as escort guards. Beyond these, there were also boy riders and soldiers marching in attendance — truly, carriage canopies blotted the sun, chariots and horsemen filled the road, a full hundred men in all.

In complete contrast to the ostentation outside, Gongsun Shu had arranged this small banquet with extreme simplicity and restraint. Though every kind of ritual vessel was laid out with meticulous precision, the food placed on the guests' tables was nothing more than plain millet rice and locally made bean paste — a pity there were no chili peppers to add color; it was all a murky black.

Gongsun Shu himself was also dressed entirely in plain white today. Raising a cup of water in place of wine, he said: "The rites say: on days of condolence, one does not drink wine or eat meat. I know you gentlemen are still observing mourning for Master Ziyun and have dietary restrictions. Though several days have passed, my heart remains sorrowful, so I shall share this plain fare with you all!"

"Many thanks, Colonel Gongsun!"

Toward the end, Gongsun Shu stroked his beard and voiced regret on everyone's behalf: "The land of Shu is fertile and beautiful, with river-watered wilds. The people eat rice and fish and suffer no lean years. Its mountain forests, marsh fish, garden fruits, and orchard melons ripen in turn through the four seasons — nothing is lacking."

"And this region has no shortage of fine foods, just as Master Ziyun described in his 'Rhapsody on the Shu Capital'…"

Gongsun Shu closed his eyes and actually recited an entire passage from memory: "'The blend of sweet harmonies, the peony stew. Bought rice and fat pigs, the lone bamboo partridge and the solitary grey crane.'"

Deeply moved, Wang Long continued: "'Roasted owl wrapped in the finest pelt, mountain deer marrow and brain, the rich flesh of water creatures, bee-glazed suckling pig and seasonally fat goose…'"

Hou Ba took up the next line: "'Mountain fowl paired in union, spring lamb and autumn badger, minced carp and turtle delicacies, late-planted rice and tender pheasant.'"

Then the two looked at Diwu Lun — was this a verse relay now?

Fortunately, Diwu Lun had indeed read that rhapsody several times during these days traveling through Shu, to deepen his understanding of the region. After a moment's reflection, he said: "'Before the body wearies, the five meats and seven vegetables dispel all rankness and stench. Whatever can refine the spirit and nourish the blood — all is laid forth without omission.'"

Perhaps touched to the heart by these words, Wang Long again wept freely, dabbing at his face with his lapel as he said: "Our master was a man who loved fine flavors. When I first read this rhapsody, I constantly craved the foods of Shu. To have come all this way south and yet have no chance to taste them — what a pity."

Who wasn't? Diwu Lun also shook his head and sighed. He had gone a full month without eating meat.

Gongsun Shu, however, said: "Even the disciples of Confucius mourned their sage for no more than three years. If you stay long in Shu, won't you get to taste them?"

Diwu Lun caught the hint — Colonel Gongsun was deliberately trying to recruit the few of them. He was amused at once. Declining with polite demurrals? He was all too familiar with that routine.

But before Gongsun Shu could launch into another heartfelt speech about cherishing talent, that fellow Huan Tan slapped the table in dissatisfaction and said: "Colonel, it's one thing for the youngsters to eat plain fare, but must this old man eat such stuff too?"

Huan Tan had always been wildly unrestrained, speaking without regard for occasion. An awkward moment fell over the gathering. Gongsun Shu clapped his hands and had the promised fine foods brought in.

The dishes were roast chicken and braised duck. Huan Junshan picked up a piece with his chopsticks and, under the hungry gazes of everyone present, put it in his mouth and chewed slowly. At the very first taste, he blurted out: "So sweet!"

Gongsun Shu said: "The people of Shu have always loved rich flavors. They find pork, chicken, and duck all too bland, so when the Shu people cook, they like to add malt-sugar and honey — only then do they consider the flavor superb. Outsiders from other commanderies may not necessarily find it to their taste."

This rather surprised Diwu Lun. So, before encountering chili peppers, ancient Sichuan had a sweet tooth? Every dish had sugar added — a sugar-lover's ecstasy!

And it wasn't the malt-sugar common in Guanzhong, either, but sugarcane juice pressed in the south of Shu, added directly as a seasoning.

Huan Tan, for his part, was not picky and ate with great delight. For a moment, the aroma filled the hall. Diwu Lun and the others chewed their dry bean paste with their rice, forced to watch as Huan Tan shamelessly feasted with abandon.

Over this past month and more, they had grown accustomed to Huan Tan's unrestrained eccentricities. It was Gongsun Shu, rather, who found it hard to stomach, and he remarked pointedly: "I have always heard that the gentleman Junshan was a close friend of Master Ziyun. Now that his bones have only just been laid to rest, Junshan certainly has a fine appetite."

Huan Tan, sucking his grease-covered fingers, burst out laughing: "I thank Colonel Gongsun for his concern. Would you rather I beat my head on the ground and spend my days washing my face in tears, half-dead with grief?"

Gongsun Shu shook his head: "That is not necessary. But I have heard that when a gentleman keeps mourning, fine food does not taste sweet to him, music brings him no joy, and living at home gives him no comfort. Now, Junshan, you eat meat and wear silk — are you at ease with that?"

This was the very criticism Confucius leveled at his disciple Zai Yu for questioning the mourning rites. Huan Tan, however, set down his chopsticks and said: "Gongsun Ziyang, how could you possibly know the wound within my heart?"

He rose and said with feeling: "Ziyun once said: whatever lives must die; whatever has a beginning must have an end — such is the way of nature. To grow old and pass away — for Ziyun, who never fulfilled his ambitions in life, this was not suffering, but release."

"Now Ziyun lies peacefully at rest in that great chamber. We ought to be glad. If I were to wail and weep after him, that would truly be failing to understand him!"

"My heart is both sorrowful and joyful. Only by gorging and guzzling can I heal the hurt; only by sitting sprawled, drumming on a basin and singing, can I forget. I fear I've made a laughingstock of Colonel Gongsun."

With that, Huan Tan picked up the lacquer tray, now licked perfectly clean, and — great musician that he was — sat down right there on the floor and began beating upon it. Laughter threaded through his song: "Long ago when Confucius departed Lu, he tarried and lingered, roaming far and wide, yet in the end returned to his old capital — why seek the Xiang's depths or the raging rapids!"

Gongsun Shu, who placed great emphasis on outward ritual and meticulous detail, could not comprehend the wild conduct of this eccentric scholar and was at a loss with him. When conversation sours, half a sentence is too much. He simply ignored Huan Tan, treating him as if he were not there, and turned to Diwu Lun and the other two, resuming the earlier topic. He asked about their plans going forward, his words carrying a clear intent to recruit.

Hou Ba was somewhat tempted and said of his own accord: "I plan to build a hut by the tomb, observe three years of mourning for our master, and collate his posthumous teachings."

"A filial disciple indeed! With a disciple such as this, Ziyun's virtue rivals that of Confucius!" Gongsun Shu clapped his hands and at once pledged to cover all of Hou Ba's provisions for clothing, food, and lodging during those three years.

Wang Long, however, said: "Long is an official of the Privy Treasury. I wish to accompany my senior brother in mourning for three months, but then I must return to the capital to resume my post." In truth, he wanted to retrace all the mountains and rivers that their master Yang Xiong had once traversed, to find the state of mind in which he had composed his rhapsodies, to deepen his understanding of his teacher — and perhaps, with a flash of inspiration, compose a fine essay of his own that could be passed down through the ages.

It seemed Wang Long could not stay long. Gongsun Shu voiced his regret, but his gaze had long since turned to Diwu Lun — he was determined to win this young man over.

"Last year, when I returned to the capital to present the annual accounts, I went back to Maoling. Even there I had heard of the name of Diwu Lang, the Filial and Righteous, from the neighboring county. I also know of how Boyu and Ma Wenyuan freed the innocent out of a sense of justice. Does Boyu not yet know? Ma Yuan and I are not merely from the same county — we are from the same village ward. Push open the door of my family home, and directly across is the Ma residence. We have been close friends since childhood."

Such a connection? Diwu Lun recalled that his servants had indeed mentioned that directly across from the Ma house was the Gongsun mansion — also a high gate of a great clan.

Diwu Lun cupped his hands and said: "I am deeply grateful for Colonel Gongsun's kind regard, but…"

He explained how he had submitted a letter to join the army, and that he had to leave even earlier than Wang Long — he must return to Chang'an to report before the first month.

"So it seems Boyu and I are fated to brush past one another. A pity, a pity." Gongsun Shu exclaimed his regret.

By this time, Huan Tan had eaten his fill, sung his fill, and even drunk a little wine. Weary of Gongsun Shu's long-winded speeches, he had already begun to yawn.

Diwu Lun rose to take his leave. Gongsun Shu saw the group out of the county office, then, recalling something, drew Diwu Lun aside and said in a low voice: "Since Ma Wenyuan fled with that Wan Xiu, there has been no word of him at all. Does Boyu know where he has gone?"

Seeing the doubt on Diwu Lun's face, Gongsun Shu smiled and explained, "I am on good terms with Wenyuan, and my younger brother is about the same age as his daughter. I have been thinking of sending someone to act as matchmaker, but I simply did not know where Wenyuan was, so the matter has long been left unsettled."

"Acting as matchmaker" meant sending someone to propose marriage — and how many daughters did Ma Yuan have?

One!

Diwu Lun was briefly stunned. He looked toward Gongsun Shu's side, at his younger brother Gongsun Hui, who had kept them company throughout the day. Before, the man had seemed agreeable enough, and their conversation at the banquet had been quite pleasant. But now, looking again, he felt the fellow had the shifty-eyed look of a rat, truly hideous!

Gongsun Shu added, "If Boyu knows where Wenyuan has gone, I will certainly go quietly and invite Wenyuan here, and settle him comfortably in Shu. Once he arrives, we shall clasp hands in joy as if we had known each other all our lives!"

This Gongsun Shu had already held memorial rites for Yang Xiong, a man he had never even met, and recruited the three of them, master and disciples. Now he also wanted to bring Ma Yuan under his command — his ambitions were hardly small.

And how many Ma Yuans were there in the world? Also just one!

At this, Diwu Lun solemnly cupped his hands toward Gongsun Shu. "I will not deceive you, Colonel Gongsun. I have met Ma Wenyuan only twice, and there has been no contact between us since. I have absolutely no idea where he has gone!"

The next morning, Diwu Lun went over to see if Huan Tan was awake. After knocking a few times and entering, he witnessed a shocking scene! Huan Tan was hurriedly wiping away tears. Caught by Diwu Lun, he immediately burst into loud laughter, pretending he had been picking at the sleep in his eyes.

But Diwu Lun had already seen the tear stains on his pillow. Could it be that Huan Tan's usual carefree manner was all an act, and that in the quiet of the night, thinking of his bosom friend Yang Xiong's death, he still grieved in secret?

Diwu Lun did not expose him, and only chatted with Huan Tan about the previous day's small banquet.

"What does the Grand Master Junshan make of this man Gongsun Shu?"

Huan Tan thought for a moment and said, "Gongsun Shu appears humble and eager to seek worthy men, but from what I know, he is by nature harsh and meticulous, scrutinizing trivial matters. You can tell from his pomp that he is very fond of keeping up appearances and putting on a false display of fine things."

"In a word — hypocritical."

Diwu Lun laughed. "Then am I not also hypocritical? Grand Master Junshan has always thought so, I believe."

"Correct."

Huan Tan spoke his mind directly. "Though you too fish for fame and reputation, Boyu, within your hypocrisy there is still a touch of sincere innocence. To put it in terms of a comparison, it is nine parts water and one part honey. At first taste, it may seem too bland, but the more you drink, the more flavor it has, and you never grow tired of it..."

Hey, hey, what kind of lousy metaphor was that? Diwu Lun immediately edged a little farther away from Huan Tan.

"Whereas the feeling Gongsun Shu gives is nine parts honey and one part water."

"The friendship of a gentleman is mild as water; the friendship of a petty man is cloying as sweet wine. At first taste, it may seem sweet and pleasing, but as the days wear on, it will make you sick."

Having said this, Huan Tan actually spat a mouthful of saliva straight onto the ground. So this was the caliber of the dignified Grand Master of Music!

"And what does Boyu think?"

Diwu Lun smiled. "What I value differs from Grand Master Junshan. I rather admire and appreciate Gongsun Shu!"

PS: Chapter 4 at 18:00.