Eighty-six

Wang Bo smiled to himself without realizing it, and Wang Hu, catching that expression by chance, hurriedly asked what had happened.

At the sound of his father’s voice, Wang Bo withdrew from his memories. “Uh… it’s nothing, Father,” he muttered awkwardly.

“Not thinking of some girl, are you?”

At that, Wang Bo’s face went scarlet with embarrassment. “Of course not, Father. What are you talking about?” In the past he had thought his father was honest to a fault, and now he was making jokes? So this was the legendary quiet lechery? No—how could he think that of his own father? He glanced over at Wang Hu and found his expression plain and sincere, not at all like a joke. Wang Bo was baffled. Had he smiled too broadly just now, and made his father think he was sighing over springtime love?

“Look, ahead is Zhen Ding City,” Wang Hu said, cutting off Wang Bo’s thoughts before they could wander further.

Wang Bo raised his head and looked ahead, and the sight before him struck him speechless. He had spent the whole previous night imagining what an ancient city might look like. He had seen city walls in films and television dramas from his former life, but none of them had prepared him for the force of seeing one with his own eyes.

He stood there in a daze. Before him, upon the barren plain, rose a city of dull yellow earth and stone. The yellow walls were overgrown with weeds that already looked withered. Along the top of the towering ramparts stood a row of crenellated battlements, and through the gaps he could faintly make out guards on patrol. At the center of the city gate was a watchtower built for archers, elegant and impressive when seen from below. Wang Bo thought quietly to himself, That must be where the commander takes charge in wartime. The view from there over the city must be magnificent.

Though the reality was indeed breathtaking, the drab yellow walls still disappointed him. They were far from the blue-gray bricks he had imagined; all the grand sights from television were, after all, false and untrustworthy. And that antique fragrance of age and history—no imitation could ever reproduce it. There were no skyscrapers, no traffic-choked avenues, nothing but the raw, original world. At the sight of it all, Wang Bo could not help trembling faintly.

Seeing him stop and stare, his expression distant and his body trembling slightly, Wang Hu asked, “What’s wrong, Xiao Bo? Why have you stopped?”

“Oh, I’m fine, Father. I’m just a little overwhelmed. Let’s keep going. I’m all right.”

He came to himself and continued toward the gate.

Near the entrance, a moat about five meters wide lay across the way. A huge drawbridge spanned it, crowded with people coming and going. Several soldiers in leather armor stood at the gate, spears in hand, looking listless as they watched the passersby. Raising his eyes to the gate, Wang Bo’s mind was struck by its grandeur. The gate was broad and imposing, and at its center were carved two large characters—the name of the city—worn somewhat vague by time, yet still steeped in the weathering of history.

“All right, let’s make one more effort. Once we’re inside, we can talk,” Wang Hu said, turning to Wang Bo. He wiped the sweat from his face, then resumed pushing the cart, slowly making for the gate.

Watching the crowd flow back and forth, Wang Bo felt oddly at ease. Human beings were, after all, creatures of the herd. In his old village there had been so few households that the place felt deserted, but within Zhen Ding City there was clearly bustle and life.

“Stop right there. What are you here for? What’s loaded on the cart?”

Just as they neared the gate, a shout rang out from the city entrance, and a soldier in leather armor came striding toward them.

Seeing that it was a soldier, Wang Hu hurriedly set down the grain cart and ran up to him. “Officer, I’m bringing my son into the city to sell grain.” As he spoke, he pointed back at Wang Bo, who quickly bowed to the soldier.

“Besides grain, nothing else?”

The soldier did not even glance at Wang Bo. He went around Wang Hu and walked straight to the cart. Wang Bo grew angry at the man’s arrogant manner, but dared not show it. Without money or power, all he could do was swallow the insult.

“Of course not. There’s nothing on it but grain,” Wang Hu answered honestly, following behind the soldier with a submissive air.

The soldier looked at Wang Hu, then at the cart, and barked, “If you say there’s nothing on it, then there’s nothing on it? Take it all down. I’m going to inspect it.”

The travelers passing in and out of the gate were used to such scenes and paid no attention. Wang Bo, however, understood what was happening. It was the same shameless trick from those old dramas: they wanted to find a pretext to extort money. He wanted to smooth things over and pay a little to end it, but he had not a single coin on him.

Wang Hu was too honest to know the underhanded game. Hearing the soldier’s demand, he panicked at once. Grabbing the soldier’s sleeve, he begged urgently, “Officer, there’s really only grain on the cart. Nothing else.”

At that, the soldier was first startled, then enraged. So, you old fool, you don’t know the rules? If you don’t want to pay, then don’t blame me. He shook Wang Hu’s hand off violently. “You thief, dawdling and refusing to let me look—what, are you hiding something shameful inside? Men, take this cart away. I’ll inspect it properly myself!”

Wang Hu staggered from the shove and nearly fell. Wang Bo rushed over to support him. “Father, are you all right?”

Before Wang Hu could answer, the soldier was shouting again. Wang Hu hurried to his feet and ran back to him, grabbing his sleeve once more. “Officer, I’m only an ordinary commoner. I really haven’t loaded anything disgraceful on the cart. You can’t take it away—our whole family depends on it to live.”

The soldier’s anger only deepened. “You thief, and you still dare to argue! If I weren’t in a good mood today, I’d already have seized you for trying to slip into the city. And now you even dare ask for your cart back? Men, drive these two away!”

Wang Bo’s rage flared at that. So bribery had failed, and now they meant to rob them outright. Were these soldiers or bandits? He was just about to rush forward when a voice called from behind.

“What are you shouting about? What’s going on here?”

Wang Bo turned at the sound and saw a broad-shouldered officer in armor approaching, tall and imposing, with a determined face and sharp eyes. A man of rank, Wang Bo thought at once. He knew this because the man carried no spear, only a sword at his waist.

The soldier who had been bullying them immediately lost his swagger. His face filled with ingratiating smiles as he released Wang Hu and hurried over to the newcomer. “Reporting to Lord Wang, Gate Commander, I just discovered a suspicious-looking man.”

He pointed at Wang Hu. “I only wanted to inspect his cart, but he kept obstructing me and refusing to cooperate.”

“Is that so? Let me have a look,” said the sword-bearing officer, and he walked toward Wang Hu.

This man, named Wang Meng, was the gate commander of the city. Though his office was minor, he was still an official and commanded more than a dozen soldiers. At first Wang Meng had not wanted to get involved in this trivial matter, since this was how things were done, and the little fellows who collected the fees would know to honor him afterward. He had even been annoyed with Wang Hu for not understanding the rules. But word had just come down from above that Lord Zhang’s carriage would be arriving soon, and under no circumstances was anyone to impede Lord Zhang’s entry into the city.

Who was Lord Zhang? A name known to every man in Zhen Ding City. Though the Zhang family was not much compared with great powers beyond the city, within this small place they were absolute masters. Moreover, the prefect had deliberately sought to forge a marriage alliance with the Zhang family. Although Lord Zhang had not yet agreed, the family’s influence had only grown by the day.

Wang Meng knew very well that if the Zhang family wanted to deal with him, crushing him would be easier than crushing an ant. So, seeing the situation spiraling out of hand and traffic beginning to clog the gate, he had no choice but to step in.

As Wang Hu watched the sword-bearing officer approach, the more familiar he looked. After a moment’s thought, he suddenly pointed and said, “You’re Little Meng?”

Hearing someone call him that, Wang Meng was stunned. The middle-aged man before him seemed vaguely familiar, yet he did not dare be certain. “You are…?”

“I’m your Uncle Hu! The Hu from our village. Isn’t your father Wang Cai? I used to help out at your house all the time—you can’t remember me?”

“Oh!” Wang Meng finally realized. So it was him. Well, since they had recognized each other, it would be improper not to help. “So it’s Uncle Hu. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming into the city?”

Wang Hu’s mood lifted at once now that Wang Meng had turned out to be the very person he knew. But the soldier standing behind Wang Meng could not help trembling. He had bullied Wang Hu precisely because Wang Hu was a peasant and clearly had no backing, but the situation had now reversed completely. The man actually knew his superior—and seemed to be Wang Meng’s elder, at that.

“I came into the city to sell grain. You know it’s been a good harvest this year, so I thought I’d exchange the surplus for some money. I hadn’t even entered the city yet when this happened,” Wang Hu said honestly. Though he had confirmed the man was Wang Meng, his peasant instincts made him unwilling to speak too loudly in front of an official, even if the official was an acquaintance.

As Wang Hu and Wang Meng talked, Wang Bo drifted over in silence to stand beside his father, studying Wang Meng. The man truly lived up to the fierce character in his name: broad, strong, and martial in appearance. He did not seem as frivolous as the other soldiers, and should have some strength. His expression was somewhat simple and honest, not like a great villain. But then, he had a father like that—could a man truly be judged by what others saw?

“Hm? And who are you?” Wang Meng asked, noticing him.

“This is my son, Xiao Bo,” Wang Hu said, drawing Wang Bo forward. “Come on, Xiao Bo, greet Brother Meng.”

“Brother Meng,” Wang Bo said.

“I remember you used to look so frail. I didn’t expect you’d grown this sturdy,” Wang Meng said, patting Wang Bo on the shoulder.

Wang Bo answered modestly, “I owe it all to Brother Yun’s grace. I had the chance to study under Master Tong Yuan for a while, and that’s why I’ve improved.”

At the mention of Zhao Yun, a shadow flickered across Wang Meng’s eyes, though Wang Bo did not notice.

Seeing the three of them chatting so warmly, the arrogant soldier from before was shaking in his boots, his face drained white. He had thought Wang Hu easy to bully, someone from whom he could squeeze a little money, but he had never imagined such a turn of events.

Then Wang Meng remembered his task and knew he could not delay further. “All right, Uncle Hu, go on into the city. Don’t block the gate.”

Before he had even finished speaking, a party of riders was already approaching from afar.

“Damn it—what you fear is exactly what comes,” Wang Meng muttered when he saw them. He quickly turned and shouted to the soldiers behind him, “Get a few men to move this cart aside, and clear the pedestrians at once!”

At once, the previously lazy-looking soldiers sprang into action. Some pushed the cart aside, others scattered the crowd, and the gate returned to order in no time.

Wang Bo stared at the approaching procession in astonishment. Could this be some great official, arriving with such a display? The riders drew nearer, and he saw that the men on horseback wore no armor, only plain cloth garments. They looked more like household retainers. Not far behind them came a finely made carriage. A banner was mounted upon it, white with black lettering, bearing the character for Zhang.

Whoever was inside must be someone extraordinary to merit such pageantry. Looking around, Wang Bo saw that the people nearby were all wearing expressions of envy and admiration.

Suddenly a strong wind rose, lifting the carriage curtain. In that instant, a familiar figure entered Wang Bo’s sight.

It was her.

Waves surged in Wang Bo’s heart.

That fleeting profile before his eyes drew the memory he had been striving to bury rushing back into his mind all at once. It was her. It really was her.

Only now, looking at the mighty line of horses, the exquisite carriage, and the trembling soldiers, did Wang Bo truly grasp the gulf between them.

The carriage had already disappeared into the distance, and the gate had resumed its former bustle, yet Wang Bo remained there in a daze, motionless, as if he no longer knew where he was.

“Xiao Bo, Xiao Bo, what’s wrong?” Wang Hu waved a hand in front of Wang Bo’s eyes. Seeing no response, he tugged at his sleeve and called out loudly again, “Xiao Bo, what’s wrong?”

“Ah—Father, I’m fine.”

At last Wang Bo came to himself. Wang Hu looked at him strangely. “What were you staring at so intently just now?”

“Nothing, really. I was just wondering who was in that carriage to have such a grand procession.”

Wang Hu had not even replied when Wang Meng, standing nearby, said, “That was the Zhang family’s carriage. You know the Zhang family, don’t you? They’re the largest clan in our Zhen Ding City.”

As he spoke, Wang Meng wore an envious expression, while Wang Bo merely nodded numbly.

“All right, enough of that. Didn’t you come into the city with your father to sell grain? Then hurry on,” Wang Meng said, unable to help himself at the sight of Wang Bo’s dazed expression.

“Right, that’s true. Come on, Xiao Bo,” Wang Hu called.

Wang Bo nodded and said nothing more. He followed behind Wang Hu and merged into the stream of people entering the city.

Once Wang Bo and Wang Hu had gone a little way off, the arrogant soldier from before came up beside Wang Meng, trembling all over. “Lord Wang, I really didn’t know he was a relative of yours, so I—”

Wang Meng waved him off. “What relative? He’s just a friend of my father’s. If not for the Zhang carriage coming through, do you think I’d bother with this?” He glanced after the departing father and son.

“I see,” the soldier said in a low voice, but before he could finish, Wang Meng waved him off again. “All right, it’s over. Go back to your post.” Then he turned and went up onto the wall.

The soldier wiped the sweat from his brow. “Damn it—just a false alarm,” he muttered, before returning to his station at the gate.

Walking along the prosperous street, Wang Bo’s mind remained clouded, and the joy he had felt before was gone. Seeing that something was wrong with him, Wang Hu stopped. “Xiao Bo, what’s the matter?”

“I’m fine, Father.” Wang Bo shook his head.

“You’ve been absent-minded since just now. Are you really all right?” Wang Hu asked anxiously.

Looking at his father’s weathered face, and then recalling the miserable scene from before, Wang Bo felt a pang in his heart. At such a moment, he was still thinking about that impossible matter.

“I really am fine, Father. Don’t worry. I was just thinking about that carriage, that’s all.”

“That belongs to other people. What use is thinking about it?” Wang Hu shook his head. “Never mind. Let’s go.”

He continued onward, and Wang Bo silently followed behind him. Before long, they arrived at a market, an open-air market. Even before stepping inside, they could see the place packed with people, alive with noise and chatter. Vendors’ cries rose and fell one after another, lively and bustling.

Following Wang Hu to a deserted corner, Wang Hu took a sack of threshed grain from the cart and began to call out for customers.