Chapter Sixty-Five: Audience with the Emperor (Part One)

“Yellow Minister—”

“Your Majesty, I am now the Commandant of the Capital; I am no longer the Minister.”

“But in my heart, you are always the Minister of our great Han!”

Hearing these words from the emperor, Huang Wan could not hold back his tears and knelt down, saying, “Your servant Huang Wan thanks Your Majesty for your gracious kindness!”

“Minister, please rise!” Liu Xie stood up and personally helped Huang Wan to his feet. The two knelt facing each other and began to discuss, at length, the countless crimes and atrocities committed by the ferocious Dong Zhuo.

“Tell me,” after some time, Liu Xie asked, “Minister, have you heard of Zhang Yu from Zhongshan?”

“Zhang Yu from Zhongshan… I have indeed heard of him. He is quite famous in Hebei, enjoying a reputation for several works, and is regarded as a benevolent soul concerned for the people.”

“Works? Isn’t he a winemaker?”

“Your Majesty, busy as you are with the affairs of state, it is only natural that you may not know. Zhang Yu of Hebei first gained fame for composing the poem ‘Song of the Artemisia Fields’ out of compassion for the hardships of refugees. Boldly, though only the son of a merchant yet to come of age, he called upon the entire gentry of Hebei to aid the disaster-stricken masses, and to everyone's surprise, he succeeded greatly, earning extraordinary renown and being regarded by the common people as almost a celestial being descended to earth.

As for ‘Song of the Artemisia Fields,’ it is truly a grand and rare work; I still find it hard to believe it was written by a youth. Especially the line, ‘White bones exposed in the wild, for a thousand miles no rooster crows,’ even I cannot help but sigh in sorrow when reading it. Thus, the name of Jade Boy became widely known.”

A youth? So he must be around my age.

Bold, then? Perhaps not as timid as the ministers I see today.

Worried for the people, highly esteemed—could it mean he is loyal to the Han and worthy of great responsibility?

The young emperor Liu Xie was suddenly deeply curious about this Zhang Yu.

“Your Majesty… Your Majesty?” After speaking for some time, Huang Wan looked up and noticed Liu Xie seemed lost in thought.

“Ah? Ah, Minister Huang, I wish to summon this Zhang Yu. Do you think it is appropriate?”

“By law and custom, his status would absolutely forbid it.” Huang Wan paused, then shook his head.

“But even the current Chancellor is nothing but a lowly bandit from Xiliang! Minister Huang, if we cannot adapt now, the Han dynasty is truly in peril!”

With these words, before this loyal old servant, Liu Xie finally let his burdens slip away, showing the youthful vulnerability proper to his age, and let his tears flow freely.

“To witness my lord’s humiliation, I am guilty beyond pardon!” The two wept together.

After a time, Huang Wan said, “Let it be as Your Majesty wishes. I will help you summon him at once!”

Back in Chang’an, before the secluded guesthouse.

Suddenly, a flash of silver, a clear ringing sound.

Dong Bai stepped lightly, leaping into the air. Her emerald dress fluttered in the wind; her slender, white wrists seemed boneless as she spun a dazzling sword flower and then thrust downward.

“Clang!”

Han Long, reacting with speed, raised his sword vertically to his chest and blocked Dong Bai’s attack, then flicked his wrist to bring the sword behind his back.

“I know your swordsmanship is excellent, but I am no mere show-off!” Dong Bai retorted crisply.

At once, the sword light gathered, and in a blink, the tip seemed to become countless embroidery needles, shooting toward Han Long. Han Long’s eyes grew grave; he seized the moment to meet her with a powerful stroke, breaking her fierce assault, then somersaulted away several paces.

“Come on, hiding behind defenses like a turtle—how can you call yourself a man!”

Dong Bai’s fair face was tinged with wrath as she pressed her attack.

“The young master once said, ‘A gentleman does not quarrel with a lady; I must yield to you.’”

“You!”

Her mood affecting her movements, Dong Bai’s technique grew increasingly disordered as Han Long, being the more skilled, held his own. Her attacks devolved into simple hacks. “Your young master dares to look down on us women; call him out! No, let me in!”

“That wasn’t my words, but the Sage’s: ‘Women and petty men are hard to nurture.’”

Someone descended the stairs, stepping out leisurely through the guesthouse doors.

“Young master.”

“Master Zhang, what an imposing presence. Seeing you is harder than meeting the Grand Preceptor himself,” Dong Bai glared fiercely, her tone sharp.

“The Grand Preceptor eats easily, but it is hard for the people to eat; he kills easily, but it is hard for the people to survive. I am but a common man—how dare I compare to the Grand Preceptor?”

Dong Bai loved martial arts, but she was no fool. She easily caught the meaning in Zhang Yu’s words, her questioning laced with threat. “Are you not afraid I’ll report your words to my grandfather?”

“Might I ask, is there any falsehood in what I said?”

Dong Bai frowned, wanting to argue, but found the words true—even if they made her uncomfortable.

“Further, was there any slander or insult to the Grand Preceptor in what I said?”

Before she could answer, Zhang Yu suddenly darted forward, astonishingly quick.

“Since there is none, surely, with the Grand Preceptor’s magnanimity, he would not take my life over a single sentence.”

Even Zhang Yu himself perhaps hadn’t realized how confident he had become, increasingly adept in conduct. And with these changes, the mischievousness and dark humor of his prior life began to surface.

“For shame, a man of eight feet, idle in body, quick only in tongue—is it not disgraceful?”

“And you, fair as a peach blossom, willow brows and apricot eyes—though not confined to the boudoir, you show yourself constantly. Is that not embarrassing?”

Zhang Yu retorted in rapid succession, then glanced at her sword, “For all the weapons in the world, you choose the sword! Not the upper sword, but you choose—”

“Young master, forgive me for interrupting, but your uncle also practices swordsmanship—”

“Pfft!”

Before Zhang Yu could respond, Dong Bai—like a volcano ready to erupt—burst out laughing, her anger dissipating.

“All right, all right, no more teasing. I am in good spirits today and meant only to jest. If I have offended, I beg the young lady’s pardon.” Zhang Yu instantly adopted a cultured, gentle air, bowing slightly, leaving Dong Bai to wonder if the ranting youth a moment ago was really the same graceful gentleman before her.

“Besides, as you said, a man of eight feet, quick in tongue, not ashamed—three out of four, truly impressive. But as for being idle in body, I must disagree.”

“Hmph, don’t think that changing face will make me let you off!”

“May I ask, what brings the young lady to seek me today?”

“My grandfather sent me to find you.”

“The esteemed Chancellor seeks me, sends Lady Weiyang herself as envoy.” Zhang Yu’s lips curved in a sly smile, mischief dancing in his eyes, leaving the headstrong girl both annoyed and flustered.

“I happened to pass his door and overheard it. What’s wrong with that?!”

“Nothing at all. But when the Chancellor’s envoys arrive, have you thought how you’ll explain?”

No sooner had Zhang Yu spoken than the sound of carriages and voices rose from the street.

“Perhaps, the young lady will accompany me home?”

“You!… How aggravating, Zhang Yu, remember this—I will be back!”

Even her parting words carried a villainous flair; surely, she would return.

Dong Bai truly had real martial skill. With a few agile movements, she slipped into the courtyard, mounted a horse—whether hidden or conveniently borrowed—and cast an angry glance backward before galloping away.

Moments later, four soldiers led a carriage to the crowd. The leader spoke, “Where is Zhang Yu of Zhongshan?”

“I am he. May I ask who you are?”

“By order of His Majesty, I have come to summon you.”