Chapter 386: The Airs of Bin

If you study the map carefully, you will notice that Longxi, Shang Commandery, and Beidi—these three commanderies each command the upper reaches of a major river flowing through Guanzhong. Longxi holds the Wei River, Shang Commandery the Luo River, and Beidi the Jing River.

Thus, in military terms, all three commanderies "hold the strategic upper reaches" relative to Neishi and Xianyang.

In early September, Heifu set out for his post in Beidi Commandery, traveling upstream along the Jing River. He first passed through Yunyang County, where he had once rescued the calligrapher Cheng Miao, rounded Mount Ganquan, and arrived at a county town called "Qi County."

Compared to two years ago, when Heifu had entered Xianyang alone and unarmed, his carriage procession now had the full panoply of a high frontier official: a large four-horse carriage carrying his wife, whom he had seen little of since their wedding, followed by more than ten ox- and horse-drawn carts bearing maids, servants, and retainers accompanying him to his post, such as Chen Ping, along with Chen Ping's wife, children, and other family members.

While they rested at a guest lodge outside the county, amid the neighing of horses and clamor of people, Ye Zijin, whose little face had gone pale from the jolting ride, smiled when she heard they had reached Qi County and said, "So this is the old land of Bin."

The village head's wife and daughter, who were leading her into the lodge to rest, heard this and flattered her, "The lady is learned, to know this county's ancient name was Bin!"

Qi County was not under Beidi Commandery's jurisdiction, so Heifu knew little about it. Only after asking his wife—who came from the Han nobility and had a traditional education in the Odes and Documents—did he learn that this county was in fact the ancestral home of the Zhou people, "Bin."

"The 'Airs of Bin' among the fifteen state airs tell of matters from this very place."

The meaning of "airs" is melodies—music with local color. What are called the "Airs of Qin," "Airs of Zheng," and "Airs of Qi" are, in later parlance, Shaanxi tunes, Henan tunes, and Shandong tunes.

So what tune are the Airs of Bin? Northern Shaanxi folk songs? Xintianyou?

Heifu grew interested, but unfortunately, the Qin government did not promote the Odes and Documents—Shang Yang had burned them once already—and few locals could still sing them. No folk artist was to be found.

But with Heifu passing through as the provincial police commissioner of a neighboring province, how could the county magistrate, chief judge, police chief, and the rest of Qi County fail to greet and see him off with the utmost care? Soon enough, at dusk, when the Qi County commandant hosted a small banquet for Heifu, an elderly musician, dredged up from who knows where, was brought forward.

The old man knelt on a mat, beat upon the most common Qin musical instrument—the earthenware fou—and, in an earthy, full-throated Qin tune, sang Heifu a few stanzas of the "Airs of Bin."

Once the musician had finished his song, the "elegant" exterior of the Book of Odes in Heifu's eyes—that gilded and powdered facade applied by later ages—instantly crumbled away.

Translated into later language, it went: In the seventh month the Fire Star sinks in the west, in the ninth month the women sew winter clothes. In the eleventh month the north wind blows, in the twelfth month the cold bites deep. In such bitter cold, with no coarse brown cloth to wear, how can we make it to year's end? In the first month we repair the plowshares, in the second month we go to till. Wives and children bring us meals, carrying them to the south field's edge. The field overseer sees this and is pleased, praising our household's diligence...

It was nothing more than an utterly ordinary farmers' seasonal almanac song—language drawn from daily life, deeply grounded, not the least bit abstruse.

The musician also sang a song that, though not part of the "Airs of Bin," was still connected to this region: "Duke Liu." It told the story of how the Zhou people's ancient ancestor, Duke Liu, led them from the Rong and Di lands to the north, migrating here to take up farming once again. Heifu laughed again as he listened.

The language was just as plain and simple, and the gist of the song was much like "Red Blossoms Bloom All Over the Hills": "Range after range of those mountains, stream after stream of water—hard was our Zhou people's migration. The fields of Bin are level and rich, the crops lush and green. Duke Liu leads us, the Zhou people, to build our domain..."

Finally, he listened to one more song, one in which a young girl urges a young man to hurry and find a matchmaker to propose: "How does one hew an axe-handle? Without an axe, it cannot be done. How does one take a wife? Without a matchmaker, she cannot be won."

Heifu had a sudden flash of understanding and thought to himself, "Back then, when Chen Ping asked me to 'hew the axe-handle' for him, I had no idea what he meant. So it came from here?"

It was a pity the Zhou people were so plain and earnest, so rigidly proper. If they had added a bit of Heifu's favorite "Slowly, gently, now—do not touch my kerchief, do not make the dog bark," it would have been almost identical to the original lyrics of the Northern Shaanxi xintianyou folk songs...

Chen Ping had gone off to wander around the county and had not come with him to the banquet. After the feast ended, Heifu returned to the guest lodge and happened to run into Chen Ping, who had just finished at the evening market. He told him about this and then asked, "Where did you go off to, Master Chen?"

Chen Ping was carrying a cloth sack. He opened it to reveal gleaming golden millet inside.

Heifu treated Chen Ping well—at the very least, he "had meat to eat and a carriage to ride," and he certainly was not short of a meal. For Chen Ping to go browsing in the Qi County market and come back with a sack of millet was, of course, not for the sake of eating.

As expected, Chen Ping cupped his hands and said, "Commandant, though I follow the Way of the Yellow Emperor and Laozi, I also have a rough knowledge of the Odes and Documents. I have heard it said that Duke Liu, though dwelling among the Rong and Di, restored the legacy of Hou Ji, devoted himself to plowing and sowing, and acted in accord with the land. He led the Zhou people across the Qi and Ju rivers to the land of Bin, surveyed the terrain, opened up wasteland to plant grain, laid out the fields, and established homes. Within a single generation, this place had become a densely populated city-state: travelers had provisions, and residents had stores laid up..."

"So I looked around carefully and found that, though a thousand years have passed and it has suffered chaos from the Quanrong and Yiqu, Qi County has still not lost its richness. Moreover, the people of Qi are mostly old subjects of the Zhou domain—simple, honest, and skilled in farming."

"Once we left Mount Ganquan, all along the way, there were cleared, mature fields everywhere. This year, migrants from east of the mountains have flooded into the west of the passes. Though most of them eat wheat, the price of millet has been affected to some degree. In Xianyang's south market, grain is fifty cash per dan; in Yunyang County's market, forty cash per dan. But I inquired in the market here, and in Qi County it is only thirty cash. I made a rough estimate: in the Qi County granaries, there must be fifty to a hundred thousand dan of grain..."

Chen Ping was indeed very observant. All along the journey, he had been taking note of the grain prices and local customs of every county.

Heifu understood. "You mean that before troops and horses move, provisions and fodder go first. When I go to Beidi to take charge of military affairs, I may well have to rely constantly on Qi County's grain?"

"Exactly!"

Heifu had summed it up well. Chen Ping's eyes lit up, and he said, "Long ago, when Zigong asked about governance, Confucius said: 'Sufficient food, sufficient arms, and the trust of the people.' Food comes even before arms. As you enter Beidi, Commandant, whether for the daily rations of the soldiers or for distant campaigns beyond the frontier, grain is the first thing to consider."

"But when I was in Xianyang, I heard that Beidi Commandery is a land of treacherous mountains and narrow passes. Though its grasses are lush and waters sweet, with many imperial pastures that produce fine horses, sturdy oxen, and fat sheep, it singularly lacks farmland. The local Rong people are also unskilled in agriculture. Beidi Commandery needs grain shipped from Neishi year-round, and Qi County bears the brunt of that burden."

"Therefore, Qi County is effectively the backyard of Beidi—your granary for the next few years, Commandant!"

Heifu nodded deeply in agreement, then laughed. "Chen Ping, ah, Chen Ping, I did not misjudge you. Before we have even reached Beidi, you are already doing the work of a chief clerk along the road."

The reason Chen Ping was willing to undertake this long journey with Heifu, and even brought his family along, was that Heifu had promised him the post of "Chief Clerk to the Commandant."

This was an aide-de-camp position that a commandant could appoint on his own authority, equivalent to a chief secretary for a leader in later times. The Chief Clerk to the Commandant enjoyed the salary of a hundred-dan official, but his authority was no less than that of the four-hundred-dan Military Section Head. For Chen Ping, who was merely a minor petty clerk, this was tantamount to skipping ten years of grinding struggle...

Heifu felt he had truly picked up a treasure. He clapped him on the shoulder and encouraged him, "Once we reach Beidi, you will have ample opportunity to spread your wings!"

That night, back in the guest lodge, Heifu told his wife about this. Ye Zijin stopped her hands, which had been undressing, and nodded. "My husband has gained a capable subordinate."

"Indeed I have."

Then she reached out and stopped the next words Heifu was about to say, smiling. "I know—I will spend more time with Chen Ping's wife..."

"Clever you."

Heifu flicked her pert little nose.

Starting with the family members was one way to win over a subordinate. But for someone like Chen Ping—capable, yet heavily driven by ambition and profit—whether this approach would work, Heifu was not entirely sure.

At that moment, Ye Zijin seemed to recall something else and covered her mouth as she laughed.

Heifu asked her what she was laughing at. Ye Zijin leaned close to his ear and whispered, "Come to think of it, I have not spoken little with Chen Ping's wife on this journey. I even invited her and her young son to ride in the carriage with me. When we rested along the way, I noticed that whenever you invited Chen Ping to ride with you and talk, once the curtain was lowered, she would grow visibly anxious. I wonder what she was worried about..."

"You, ah, you."

This time, Heifu did not gently flick her nose. Instead, he rapped her on her full, smooth forehead as a warning.

Though they had been married for nine months, they had spent six of those months apart. Bringing her along to his new post this time had at last given them more time together.

In this way, he had more or less figured out his wife's character: outwardly she seemed demure and gentle, but inwardly, just like her father, her mind was full of calculations. Yet she was also different from Neishi Teng—once she grew familiar, she rather enjoyed teasing Heifu, and had actually started joking about this matter.

As payback, that night, Heifu claimed that hearing the local musician sing the odes had left him wanting more. Adopting the attitude of a diligent scholar, he engaged his wife in a discussion of "Slowly, gently, now—do not touch my kerchief, do not make the dog bark..."

Afterward, as his wife pillowed her head on his arm, Heifu suddenly sighed.

"Why does my husband sigh?"

"I suddenly feel that leaving Xianyang and returning to the provinces as an official is not so bad."

Ye Zijin looked at her husband's eyes, which gleamed especially bright in the darkness, and asked softly, "Why?"

"In Xianyang, though I seemed to dance well in long sleeves and won deep imperial favor, accomplishing many things, I was never truly at ease in my own heart. Xianyang—too many people, too many tangled hearts, the water too salty."

"Then when was my husband most at ease?"

"You may not believe it."

Heifu looked at his wife and grinned, showing his white teeth.

"Looking back, I think my most carefree days were still back in Anlu County, when I was a little village head. All I had to do was follow the evidence to catch thieves and brigands, keep ten li of land safe and peaceful. I didn't have to think about too many things, didn't have to scheme and maneuver, didn't have to shoulder too many responsibilities!"

But now, before he knew it, he had already been swept far, far too deep into the currents of the age!

"My husband is weary."

Ye Zijing smiled, and in turn drew Heifu's head into her embrace, gently saying: "I remember, back when Father raised troops to destroy Han, razed Xinzheng City, and captured the King of Han, he too collapsed into his study chair afterward and said something similar. He said his happiest days were still when he was young, first serving as a minor official in a small village, wholeheartedly devoted to the people."

"It's just like a game of Go — since the struggle at the center of the board has grown so exhausting, why not shift to a corner to rest and regroup before setting out again?"

"But this path of officialdom... from the shallow perspective of a mere woman like me."

She lowered her head, gazing intently at Heifu, her face utterly earnest: "Is like rowing a boat against the current — if you don't advance, you fall back!"

(End of Chapter)