Chapter 142: Chen Ping

(Chapter 3)

Outside the village of Huyou, there was a hamlet of thirty or forty households. Because it lay near the granary, it was called Kushang Hamlet. In Kushang Hamlet, down a poor lane on the left side of the gate, stood a shabby household. It used a broken clay jar as a window and a straw mat for a door. Early that morning, an angry voice burst from within.

"That shrew was simply too mean-spirited, so I drove her out! What 'sleeping with my wife'? There's no such thing at all! I wonder which rotten-tongued person is spreading this nonsense — how deep must the hatred be, to want to utterly destroy my younger brother's reputation!"

Chen Bo was thirty-four or thirty-five. Though tall and large-framed, years of toiling in the fields had long since bent his back. His face was tanned dark, and his forehead was covered with wrinkles.

Today, when he went out early to work, he heard the gossip and slander maligning his younger brother. A rash man by nature, he immediately began trembling with rage. He argued with those wagging tongues and nearly came to blows before Chen Ping finally persuaded him to come home.

"Everything stems from me. It is my incompetence that has dragged down my brother and his wife."

Chen Ping, only eighteen, was nothing like his elder brother. Even coarse hemp clothes could not hide his tall, straight bearing. His face was handsome, his features like polished jade. Though somewhat thin, because his brother always gave him the best food first and had never let him go hungry all these years, he did not look like a child of a poor family at all. He even possessed something of a scholar's refined air.

Though what he studied was the art of Huang-Lao, which was not the mainstream in Yangwu County.

"I don't blame you, I don't blame you. It's me who married a shrew."

Chen Bo was so angry his stomach hurt. He sat on the straw-covered bed, panting. His old ailment had flared up again — years upon years of excessive labor had taken a heavy toll on his body.

Even so, Chen Bo forced himself up, shouldered his wooden weeding hoe, and said to Chen Ping, "My brother is a man destined for great things. You must not let such vulgar gossip disturb your mind. I'm going back to check on the fields. This year's food and clothing all depend on the summer harvest — we cannot slack off now."

Chen Ping watched his brother leave through the door, then turned back to look at their utterly empty home and sighed.

The entire home consisted of three earthen rooms with a thatched roof, a small yard enclosed by a broken fence. Entering the largest main room, he saw a floor full of potholes, a long-cold earthen stove, and walls blackened by grass and wood smoke. Beyond that, there was nothing else — truly a house with nothing but four bare walls.

Adjacent to the main room was where Chen Ping slept, even narrower, barely fitting a floor bed piled with wheat straw. Fortunately, the window here had been opened wide, letting in excellent light. Sunlight streamed through the broken jar, falling onto the bamboo scroll on the bed, its binding frayed and loose from being turned so often...

This stirred old memories in Chen Ping.

Chen Ping's parents had already passed away, so from childhood he had lived with his eldest brother Chen Bo, who raised him. Their relationship was less like brothers and more like father and son.

Chen Bo was an honest, filial, and fraternal man. He always thought that since their parents had died early, leaving only Chen Ping as his younger brother, the eldest brother stood in the father's place — everything concerning his brother was his own responsibility. Unwilling to let his brother suffer, unlike other poor families, he did not send Chen Ping to work the fields early. Instead, he indulged Chen Ping, letting his nature take its course.

From childhood, Chen Ping disliked manual labor. He loved making friends and enjoyed reading. Though he worried this was not a path a poor family from the left side of the hamlet gate could sustain, Chen Bo would rather suffer himself than fail to support his brother's ideals. Gritting his teeth, he sustained everything by farming thirty mu of poor land, funding Chen Ping's travels to study in neighboring counties. Chen Bo felt that his brother was different from him, destined for greatness — how could he be buried in field mud and manure?

So ordinarily, while his brother worked the fields and his sister-in-law wove and cooked, Chen Ping only needed to sit here by the light, leafing through his scrolls.

But now, after this string of events, how could he read even half a word?

The cunning and endlessly scheming conspirator of years to come was, at this very moment, still an eighteen-year-old youth who had not endured many setbacks.

He had the form of uncut jade, but had yet to undergo the carving of time.

Reckoning the time and certain his brother had reached the fields, Chen Ping went into the yard, shouldered the hemp rope used for bundling firewood, silently left the house, and walked out.

Normally, these chores were done by his sister-in-law. Now that his brother had driven her away, gathering firewood and cooking fell to Chen Ping. He could not let his brother drag his exhausted body home to face a cold stove without even a bowl of hot food.

Yes, Chen Ping's heart soared higher than the sky. He could not resign himself to this day-after-day life of village drudgery. He longed, like the Grand Duke Wang revered by the Huang-Lao school, to one day escape poverty, meet an enlightened lord, and become the steward of a county — or even a state!

But no matter how high his heart soared, it was still a sincere and good heart!

At the very least, it had to be so toward the kin who had raised him.

Chen Ping walked all the way out of the hamlet. A group of young village girls were washing clothes by the ditch outside the hamlet gate. When they saw the handsome Chen Ping approach, their eyes first lit up, but then, as if remembering something, they either turned their heads away and ignored him or deliberately spat at him and said something loudly, provoking a burst of laughter from the crowd.

Chen Ping paid them no mind. He kept walking. His destination was the woods outside the village.

This patch of woods, by rights, was the private hillside of the local magnate Xi Zhang. But Zhang Fu, the clan head of the Xi Zhang, was rather considerate of his fellow villagers and simply opened it up completely, letting the locals come freely to gather firewood. So here, Chen Ping could run into quite a few others also gathering firewood, some of whom were neighbors from the same hamlet.

When they saw Chen Ping, they all revealed meaningful smiles, and various questions drifted from their lips.

"Chen Ping, all these years, it's rare to see you gathering firewood. Where's your sister-in-law?"

"Chen Ping, your family is clearly so poor, and your brother's stomach growls when he works. What do you eat every day to grow so big and sturdy?"

"Your sister-in-law says you eat chaff and pits — is that true or false?"

"Chen Ping, I heard your brother drove your sister-in-law away? Why is that? Could it be because..."

Every sentence was ill-intentioned. Every sentence sought to wound Chen Ping.

In the eyes of many villagers, Chen Ping was a freeloading idler, blessed with a fine appearance for nothing. At eighteen, he had accomplished nothing — neither farming nor trading. All day he just held a tattered bamboo slip, putting on airs. Did he really think he was a scholar?

Unfortunately, beyond this, Chen Ping had no greater vices for them to revile. But now, it seemed this wretch had committed an even uglier deed: sleeping with his brother's wife!

So the crowd was utterly thrilled. The moment they saw Chen Ping, they whispered to each other, pointed, and deliberately prodded him with words.

They desperately wanted to see the famously handsome man of the whole village reveal his ugly true face!

Then point at him and say with contempt, "See, he really is a base scoundrel."

Chen Ping's family was poor. Chen Ping had ideals. Because his brother doted on him, Chen Ping did not have to toil and produce like his peers, but could do things they considered leisurely and pleasant — such as reading, such as traveling to study. Therefore, in the villagers' eyes, he was simply wrong.

And that was how the idle gossip came about. The slightest mishap in his family would be magnified. People are never stingy with the greatest malice when speculating about those who are different.

But Chen Ping's way of handling it differed from Chen Bo's. He merely smiled and gave no reply whatsoever. This made those mocking him feel as if their punches had hit empty air — rather unsatisfying.

Laozi said: "Much speech leads to exhaustion; better to hold to the center."

Chen Ping understood very well that every person's psyche has innate flaws — they most love to believe whispered tales. If you tell them the truth, they often won't believe it. Instead, they prefer to describe you with rumors and gossip, painting you into the ugly image they believe you should have.

So, the cost of dispelling a rumor is ten or a hundred times that of spreading one. He would not waste that effort.

Amid the jeers, Chen Ping silently went about his own business. He shifted the firewood on his back higher and began walking home. He had already gathered enough firewood for three days.

In the past, he had not engaged in productive labor and rarely did this kind of work, so he was somewhat clumsy at it. Though the firewood on his back was not much, it felt very heavy to Chen Ping, as if all those slanderous whispers had piled on together, pressing down until he could barely breathe.

Although Chen Ping studied Huang-Lao, he knew he could not become a sage. Nor was he distressed by his current situation — he was distressed about the future.

The world values only fine clothes, not the person. Most people judge and measure a person's worth, virtue, and right or wrong based on trivial matters.

Chen Ping was very worried that today's slander of "sleeping with his brother's wife" would follow him his entire life, becoming an indelible brand upon him — even though he had never done such a thing at all.

This would greatly affect his reputation in the county. Even though the state of Wei was about to fall, even if Huyou Village came under Qin, a person's name and repute among his fellow villagers would still be the key factor determining whether he was summoned to serve as an official and rise above others.

"If I am burdened by a bad reputation, if people conclude I am a man of low virtue, a scoundrel who deceived his brother and slept with his wife, then here in Huyou Village, here in Yangwu County, it will be very hard for me to ever rise."

This was what distressed Chen Ping. But in such a matter, as the slandered person, he absolutely could not defend himself — otherwise, it would only get blacker the more he tried to wipe it clean.

Say what? Say "I didn't sleep with my sister-in-law"? If he said that, the rumors would probably blaze even hotter.

While resting by the roadside, Chen Ping turned his head and saw that his shoulders beneath the hemp shirt were already seeping red spots. The thin hemp rope bit into them painfully. His tender skin, unaccustomed to labor, had already been rubbed raw and bloody.

Yet Chen Ping was not worried — on the contrary, he was glad.

Drawing blood was nothing to fear. It let Chen Ping feel the difference between himself and others. He was not willing to carry firewood his whole life, leaving two red marks and hard calluses on his shoulders.

To live today yet see the life of the day you die — unchanging, immutable — that is the most terrifying thing of all.

"This matter cannot be resolved by relying on others to come to the rescue. I must find a way to escape this predicament as quickly as possible."

Gritting his teeth, Chen Ping rose once more and stepped back through the inner gate. The women who had been washing clothes here earlier were already gone. It was only when Chen Ping neared home that he discovered they had all gathered outside his own courtyard; the place was already packed so tight not a drop of water could squeeze through.

"Chen Ping is back!"

Someone sharp-eyed shouted, and the crowd of neighbors gathered at his door immediately turned their heads to look at Chen Ping. Their eyes were mostly filled with schadenfreude; only one or two showed worried expressions.

An ominous premonition rose in Chen Ping's heart — could it be that his elder brother had...

The hemp rope in his hand slackened, and the firewood on his back immediately crashed to the ground with a clatter.

But when Chen Ping pushed through the crowd and reached his doorway, he did not see his elder brother. Instead, he saw several Qin soldiers in armor and bearing swords, standing right now in his family's courtyard!

The black-faced Qin official among them, who wore a cap and was clearly an officer, even had his hands clasped behind his back as he strolled with evident interest, peering at his vegetable patch, scrutinizing the tattered thatched roof, and even trying to crane his neck to look inside the house.

"Men of Qin?"

Chen Ping's heart lurched, but his face betrayed no panic whatsoever. He lifted the door curtain made of woven bamboo matting, stepped into the courtyard, and bowed deeply and respectfully to the Qin official, as though they were guests he had been expecting.

"I did not know an honored official would grace us with his presence. I have been most remiss."

The capped Qin official quickly turned around, sized Chen Ping up from head to toe, and then rattled off a few sentences in the Guanzhong dialect, having a Qin soldier beside him translate.

"The Patrolman asks, are you Chen Ping?"

"That is this humble one."

Upon learning that this man was the Patrolman named "Heifu," Chen Ping was even more astonished. Without cause or reason, why would a Qin official come knocking? Yet his face remained composed as he carefully observed the man.

He saw that the man had a tall and sturdy build, roughly equal to his own in height, and a pair of eyes fixed steadily on Chen Ping. That expression — it was as if, from within a dull gray stone, he had glimpsed the uncut jade hidden inside...

At that moment, the Qin official suddenly burst into loud laughter, and then, in extremely stiff-sounding local dialect that seemed only recently learned, said: "Chen Ping, it is you this official has been looking for!"

Having spoken, Heifu pressed a hand on his sword and declared loudly to Chen Ping, and to the crowd outside who were only too eager for the spectacle to grow: "Recently, this official has been making inquiries in the township market and heard a rumor circulating that Chen Bo's younger brother, Chen Ping, has committed incest with his sister-in-law! Though Qin takes the law as its teaching and officials as its teachers, it also, like the Central Plains, places great weight on ethical relations! This official, upon hearing of this, was greatly shocked. An uncle committing incest with his sister-in-law is akin to a younger brother violating his own elder sister — it is an act of great evil! How could it be ignored?"

"Therefore, today this official has come here specially to take Chen Ping, Chen Bo, Chen's wife, and all the neighbors of Kushang Hamlet who spread this rumor to the township temple for questioning! This case of incest with a sister-in-law must be brought to light today, with all murky waters cleared!"

Having spoken, Heifu had Zhongming repeat his words in the local dialect, and ignoring the uproar from the crowd outside, he smiled at the bewildered Chen Ping:

"Chen Ping, today you shall accompany me to the township temple to be interrogated. Before you enter, your person is shrouded in a foul name; whether it is true or false, none can yet discern. But when you come out, either you will be confirmed guilty of the evil act of incest with your sister-in-law and face punishment under the laws and ordinances of Qin..."

"Or, the unrighted injustice upon you! Shall be personally cleared and brought to light by this official!"

PS:

The truth: Ping was a man of tall stature and handsome appearance. Someone said to Chen Ping, "You are poor — what do you eat that makes you so fat?" His sister-in-law, jealous that Ping paid no heed to the family's livelihood, said, "He eats nothing but chaff and husks. To have a brother-in-law like this is worse than having none." When Bo heard this, he drove his wife away and cast her off.

The slander: Marquis Jiang, Guan Ying, and others all slandered Chen Ping, saying: "Though Ping is a handsome man, he is like a jade ornament on a cap — there may be nothing of substance within. Your servant has heard that when Ping lived at home, he committed incest with his sister-in-law."

Later generations remembered only the slander.

(End of Chapter)