Chapter 543: Western Liang Entertainer, Western Liang Entertainer — Do You Know Liangzhou Has Fallen?

Fine books、、、、、、、、、

In the rear courtyard of the Kang residence, after Zhang Zhao had personally paid his respects to Kang Fu, the banquet began.

The Later Jin officers, who had been suppressed for a long time, drank freely and heartily, so much so that the wine and meat ran short; Zhang Zhao had supplies brought over from the palace before it could continue.

After three rounds of wine and five courses of dishes, just as Zhang Zhao was growing slightly tipsy, the female musicians finally took the stage.

In the center stood a woman wearing a wide-sleeved cross-collar jacket and a dark red long skirt with medallion patterns, a pink silk shawl draped naturally over her shoulders.

The overall impression was graceful and elegant, yet with a hint of serene detachment.

Zhang Zhao understood a little, because this attire was not something an entertainer could wear; it was what daughters of noble and high-ranking families wore only on grand occasions.

Looking around, the gazes of the assembled officers were, unusually, restrained in a manner of "do not look at what is improper."

The woman held a curved-neck pipa, an instrument used specifically for playing foreign music, and after bowing gracefully to the crowd, she began to play, accompanied by the dancing girls.

Ding-ding-dong-dong, the notes of the curved-neck pipa entered the ear one after another, and with the dancing girls fluttering around her, it had its own special charm.

Moreover, Murong Xinzhang and others beside Zhang Zhao listened utterly entranced, even tapping their feet to the rhythm.

Because the piece she played on the curved-neck pipa was Western Liang music — the music of Zhang Zhao's homeland.

After a moment, the pipa player lightly parted her red lips and sang softly in a voice like tinkling jade.

"I have heard of the Western Liang Prefecture of old, where people thronged the land and mulberry and paper-mulberry grew thick. The grape wine matured and they made merry at will, with red blossoms, blue banners, and vermilion-powdered towers..."

This was Yuan Zhen's "Western Liang Entertainer," and Zhang Zhao could not help listening entranced as well; when it reached the line "Once the Yan rebels threw the realm into chaos, the He-Huang lands were lost and only desolate mounds remained," the melody turned sorrowful.

However, near the end, the tune departed from its usual satire and mockery.

The lyrics also changed from "The border generals of the linked cities merely hold grand banquets; who can hear this song and not feel shame?"

To "The Sage's generals merely hold grand banquets; now those who hear this song feel no shame."

Fu Yanqing beside Zhang Zhao had been breaking out in a cold sweat; if it had truly been sung as "who can hear this song and not feel shame," then the matter would have become serious — a fine song and dance would have turned into satire.

But with this change, Fu Yanqing beamed with delight, because this was praising Zhang Zhao's great achievement in bringing the eighteen prefectures of Hexi and Longyou back to allegiance.

"Well sung!" Sure enough, Zhang Zhao was extremely pleased. He stretched out a hand and asked Kang Yanzhao, the host on his right.

"Do you have a great drum and a bronze zheng?"

A zheng is an instrument resembling a bell, quite popular at this time, but a full set of tuned zheng was not cheap, which was why Zhang Zhao asked Kang Yanzhao whether he had one.

"Yes! Your servant will fetch it at once!" Kang Yanzhao hastily agreed, then went to get it himself.

Zhang Zhao, meanwhile, looked at the woman who had just finished playing the curved-neck pipa and was prostrated on the ground.

"Raise your head!" Zhang Zhao walked over slowly. This banquet seemed to have been arranged entirely for this woman.

These former Later Jin ministers would not have chosen just any woman to bring in; a possibility suddenly occurred to Zhang Zhao.

The woman raised her head, looking at Zhang Zhao somewhat timidly, yet also with a hint of expectation.

As the saying goes, no woman of eighteen is ugly; as long as one's features are not too "unusual," a young maiden looks fair from any angle.

Moreover, this young woman before him had bright eyes and white teeth, dignified and lovely; though she could not be called a peerless beauty, she could certainly be said to have charm.

And she had a certain temperament, like a lotus flower that rises from clear ripples without being seductive.

"Your servant, of the Fu family, pays respects to the Sage!" The young woman announced herself in a clear voice, then shyly lowered her head to the ground again.

"Sage, this is Grand Guardian Fu's eldest daughter, just fifteen years old. She has always admired heroes most of all, and so today she dressed as a musician and came specially to glimpse the heavenly countenance." An Shenqi, as an elder, was the right person to speak at this moment.

Zhang Zhao laughed three times inwardly. So it was indeed the historical Elder Fu — and an untouched original who had not yet married Li Shouzhen's son Li Chongxun.

Hmm, for Fu Yanqing to offer up his own daughter was both a pledge of allegiance from the Later Jin generals and a bond to draw the two sides closer.

"With such beauty, would you be willing to enter the palace and attend upon me always?"

Since matters had reached this point, the great Sage Zhang had always been direct; a beauty did not require three refusals and three yieldings.

Elder Fu knelt prostrate on the ground and answered in a voice as faint as a mosquito's hum: "Your servant is foolish and dull, but to attend upon a hero of the realm — I could ask for nothing more!"

Zhang Zhao laughed until his eyes narrowed, then turned to Fu Yanqing and said with a smile: "The Grand Guardian has raised a fine daughter. She may be made Consort Duan."

Fu Yanqing was somewhat embarrassed, because his daughter was already betrothed to Li Shouzhen's son Li Chongxun.

But of course he would not mention it at this moment; after doing his best to suppress his emotions, he answered formulaically: "My daughter has been spoiled by my wife and may lose her composure before the sovereign; I beg the Sage to be forbearing."

Zhang Zhao waved a hand cheerfully. "No matter. Lady Fu is dignified, and I find her delightful!"

As he spoke, everyone in the room came over to offer congratulations, and the women of the Kang household helped Elder Fu up from the ground and escorted her to the inner quarters.

As for sending her into the rear palace — that could not be done now. She first had to return home, then wait for the empress's approval, and only after palace matrons had been sent to instruct her in etiquette could she enter the palace.

Kang Fu's second son, Kang Yanzhao's younger brother Kang Yanze, wore a complicated expression, because in former days Kang Fu and Zhang Zhao had also arranged a marriage.

But after Kang Fu's death, the Kang family had lost its power, and Zhang Zhao had never brought the matter up again.

Now, seeing Fu Yanqing's eldest daughter receive the rank of consort before even entering the palace, he naturally felt sour at heart.

Since ancient times, imperial marriages have always carried special meaning, especially for a founding sovereign like Zhang Zhao.

Fu Yanqing's father, Fu Cunshen, had in former years been the adopted son of Emperor Wu, Li Keyong — one of the legendary Thirteen Grand Guardians. Before Emperor Zhuang perished before the Xingjiao Gate, Fu Yanqing had actually been called Li Yanqing.

Now the Fu brothers held Beizhou, with several thousand soldiers still under their command, and their old comrades and former subordinates were spread throughout Hebei.

If the Sage wanted to take Hebei, he would certainly have to rely on the Fu family, which was why the Fu family's daughter could enter the palace smoothly even though she had already been promised to someone.

But their Kang family, since the death of their father Kang Fu, had not a single soldier left in their hands, and so naturally their gates stood cold and neglected.

However, just as Kang Yanze was wallowing in self-pity and feeling sour at heart, Zhang Zhao suddenly spoke, summoning the Kang brothers to his side, and asked with a smile.

"In former years, Old Kang promised me that if I killed the insubordinate yabing officer Song Yi for him, he would marry his beautiful granddaughter to me. Which one was agreed upon then? Does it still count today?"

Kang Yanze was instantly struck by tremendous excitement; he came forward dizzily and prostrated himself.

"My second daughter is virtuous, good, and proper, and wishes to attend upon the Sage's side."

Zhang Zhao waved for Kang Yanze to rise and said with a hearty laugh: "The father is willing, but is she herself willing? Let her come out and be seen."

The surrounding crowd joined in with good-natured laughter. The proper way to offer a daughter to the palace was to do as Fu Yanqing had done — say that one's daughter was lacking in virtue and talent, and probably unworthy of the Sage, and so on.

Who had ever done as Kang Yanze did — not only calling his own daughter virtuous and proper, but directly saying she was willing?

Amid the laughter, Kang Yanze's face flushed red, and he hastily sent someone to bring out his second daughter, Lady Kang.

The Kang Fu family were not true the the Shatuo from Daibei, but the false the the Shatuo among the three Daibei tribes — in fact they were people of Kang, that is, Sogdians from the region of present-day Samarkand.

Zhang Zhao's initiative in taking a daughter of Kang Yanze was, first, to honor his past promise, so that all his ministers would know that he, Zhang Zhao, was a man of his word.

Even with a family like the Kangs, which had lost its value for winning over after Kang Fu's death, he was still willing to honor his promise.

Second, the ones now occupying the land of the Nine Zhaowu Clans and the old Sogdian homeland in Transoxiana were, in fact, the Persians.

If Zhang Zhao went to Transoxiana as a Xia lord ruling over Yi subjects, the locals would see him as an invader — and even the soldiers of the Great Zhou would think of themselves that way.

But Zhang Zhao did not want that. He was not going as an invader, but as a Xia lord ruling over Yi subjects to carry out assimilation.

In that case, what better proof could there be than the various Sogdian clans, now largely assimilated among the sons of Tang, returning with an army of Tang men?

When the time came, the army marching west would not be invaders, but a righteous force restoring the Sogdians' homeland.

And after the Sogdian homeland was restored, why should they speak Chinese, use Chinese writing, read the Han classics, and convert to Buddhism and Daoism?

Hmm — anyone who dared ask that question was surely a Persian remnant.

And after the Persians had enslaved the Sogdians for so many years, shouldn't there be compensation?

You say you don't agree to compensation? Fine — then we'll enslave you for a few hundred years too, and everyone will be even.

While he was thinking, Lady Kang had already come over. The Sogdians of Kang had always produced many brilliantly beautiful women, and after so many years of mixing in the Central Plains, they had absorbed the best of every lineage and grown even more gorgeous.

Lady Kang was a prime example. No wonder Kang Fu had once boasted of her to Zhang Zhao — she was indeed born with every charm and grace.

She had the exotic allure of a Sogdian dancing girl, and the dignified beauty of a Han lady. Zhang Zhao was thoroughly satisfied.

Mixed-blood children were like that — most were ugly as melons and split dates, but the rare few who perfectly inherited the finest genes of both peoples often turned out to be great beauties.

Lady Kang arrived, made a graceful bow, and was then sent back the same way as before.

Seeing Sage Zhang so true to his word and his promises, the Later Jin generals, by comparison, felt that Zhang Zhao was indeed more worthy of their allegiance, and the atmosphere grew even more spirited.

By now, the great drum and the chime-bells had been carried in, and Zhang Zhao gestured to Murong Xinzhang.

"Come, my son, strike the bells."

The chime-bells, that instrument akin to the bianzhong, were something few could play well unless they came from a great aristocratic family with deep culture and heritage.

Fu Yanqing, for example, came from a military family, but he had never learned the instrument.

Only Murong Xinzhang — though he was a Tuyuhun, his family had been Tuyuhun royalty for centuries, and after sinicization they had remained a great clan of Hexi and Longyou, with no shortage of cultured men in the family — only he could strike the bells.

"Grand Guardian, come keep the beat for me." Zhang Zhao now called to Fu Yanqing.

This "keeping the beat" was not the later meaning of the phrase; the clapper of this time was somewhat like the later kuaiban, a musical instrument, except that the rhythm was beaten out by striking rather than shaking as in later times.

Murong Xinzhang shed his outer robe, and Fu Yanqing also stripped down for action; the two took their places beside Zhang Zhao.

By now the dancing girls had all left the banquet hall, and everyone shed their outer robes, revealing half-sleeved and other close-fitting garments.

Later generations say that of the fifty-six ethnic groups, fifty-five can sing and dance, while the Han can only shout "six six six" — but in fact this is utterly wrong.

Dance had always been one of the most important elements of Han ritual; it was only later that the tradition was severed.

Now that Zhang Zhao was going to beat the drum himself, everyone knew the time for dancing had come, and so each was eager to try. In times like this, lord and vassal dancing together was the best chance to deepen their bond.

Zhang Zhao took the drumsticks and twirled them in a flourish, instantly winning cheers from the whole hall.

Then, with a boom, he struck the drum, and everyone at once assumed a dancing posture.

Murong Xinzhang struck the chime-bells with a clear ding-ding-dang-dang, and Fu Yanqing clapped the clapper once; everyone immediately shifted to another posture.

Zhang Zhao opened his mouth and sang: "The Western Liang dancers, the Western Liang dancers — masked Hu men, false lions. Wood carved for heads, silk for tails, gold-plated eyes and silver-inlaid teeth."

It was still "The Western Liang Dancers," but not Yuan Zhen's version — it was Bai Juyi's, with even stronger, sadder emotion.

The drum sounded, the bells rang, the clapper cracked and snapped, and everyone sang along with Zhang Zhao's drumming and song.

"In an instant word arrives of new tidings — the road to Anxi is cut off, and none may return. Weeping before the lion, tears stream down in pairs — do you know Liangzhou has fallen?" Zhang Zhao continued singing, and the mood began to turn sorrowful.

Murong Xinzhang, still striking the bells, turned his head and took up the song: "The lion turns its head and gazes west, and with one mournful roar the watchers grieve."

Fu Yanqing, great clapper in hand, beat it as if in a frenzy, his body spinning rapidly like the Sogdian Whirl dance.

"Forty years since Liangzhou fell; the Hexi and Longyou lands seized for seven thousand li. In peacetime Anxi stretched ten thousand li; today the frontier defense is at Fengxiang."

This was sung by all the generals together, and on many faces tears even began to appear.

So long as one was human, there was no one who could fail to grieve for the fall of Hexi, Longyou, Anxi, and Beiting in years past. Nor was there anyone who did not long for that flourishing Great Tang.

Though this was the moment of the warriors' greatest power, it was also the moment when their glory was utterly lost.

Moreover, from the end of the Tang until now, there had been two hundred years of chaos. Of the common people, only one or two in ten survived; emperors had changed dozens of times; no one knew how many great kings had held the walls. Even the military men, for the most part, were weary of it.

They were weary of never knowing if they would live to see the morrow, weary of being killed by others at any unknown moment, weary of battles without honor, weary of the barbarians riding south day after day.

They too were longing — longing for a heaven-sent hero of a sovereign, longing for a Taizong Wen Emperor to lead them in reclaiming the rivers and mountains and taking back the glory that was theirs.

"The remnant people's hearts break in Liangzhou; generals and soldiers look on, with no will to retake it. Each time the Son of Heaven thinks of it, he grieves; when generals would speak of it, they can only feel shame... Though we lack the wit and strength to retake it,

how can we bear to make Western Liang a mere amusement?"

When the song was finished, the drum and music stopped abruptly, and the dancing halted. Zhang Zhao, drumsticks in hand, looked out at the people in the room.

"Two hundred years. For two hundred years we sons of Tang have slaughtered one another, fought over power, and lived without a shred of shame.

I rose from Hexi and fought my way back to the nation, only to see the Shi clan grovel to the barbarians and shamelessly sell out the country — with a home I could not return to, and a nation I could not return to."

At these words, all the former Later Jin generals lowered their heads.

Zhang Zhao struck the great drum again and said in a loud voice: "We do not wish our descendants to live on in such petty, scheming misery as we have.

We do not wish the common people of the realm to be slaughtered like weeds ever again.

We do not wish the barbarians to look on us as weaklings, to scorn us at will, to dare raid our descendants' fields and herds.

Who can end this age of chaos for me, make the golden vessel whole again, and win for our descendants a future of peace, prosperity, wealth, and honor?

Who is willing to follow me, to stand upright as a man of loyalty, courage, benevolence, and righteousness, rather than be called a butcher?"

When the crowd heard this, they all knelt to the ground and shouted in unison: "We are willing! We are willing!"