Chapter Thirty-Four: Truths Revealed in Wine

On one side of Ling County, at the Wenbi Pavilion, three young men dressed as county students were indulging in wine and revelry, while several soldiers clad in Song uniforms served them cautiously from the side.

Ran Yunbiao drank silently, his expression unmoved. Li Sanjian appeared flattered and uneasy, while Zeng Gongming accepted the attention with calm composure.

“Thank you…” Each time the soldiers poured wine, Li Sanjian would rise and clasp his hands to express gratitude.

As he thanked them, Li Sanjian felt a growing sense of bewilderment. Soldiers—such a noble profession—why were they serving drinks? Why did Zeng Gongming and the others accept it so naturally, and why did the soldiers seem accustomed to it, showing no signs of resentment?

Li Sanjian’s politeness only elicited strange looks from the soldiers, as if he had done something wrong.

“Ah, ah, Brother Hanren, they’re just soldiers, aren’t they? Why bother with such formality?” Zeng Gongming, noticing Li Sanjian’s manner, couldn’t help but remark.

“What… what do you mean by this?” Li Sanjian stammered once the soldiers had gone, “They are all military men. Why do you treat them this way?”

“Not so,” Zeng Gongming shook his head at Li Sanjian’s words. “Brother Hanren, you’re mistaken. It’s not us degrading them—they are, by nature, lowly and criminal. Haven’t you noticed the tattoos on their faces? Many among them are criminals sent to serve in the Lingnan army. Others are idle vagabonds who joined for the food and clothing, and many are refugees, victims of disaster, or even bandits recruited into the ranks. Should we treat such people with respect?”

“Lowly folk?” The words stung Li Sanjian, his face darkening. He himself came from poverty, his father long dead, his mother a Li tribeswoman—by the world’s standards, he too was a ‘lowly’ person.

Just moments ago, Zeng Gongming had complained that Commander Sima looked down on their backgrounds, yet now he scorned those he deemed beneath him. Li Sanjian felt suffocated.

But then he reasoned that perhaps this was how nearly everyone in the world thought—Zeng Gongming meant no personal offense.

Once again, Li Sanjian grasped the reality of social hierarchy.

Big fish eat little fish, little fish eat shrimp, shrimp gnaw at the mud!

If he didn’t want to be mud for life, he had to fight to become a shrimp, a little fish, and someday a big fish…

Adjusting his mindset, Li Sanjian asked: “How do you know all this?”

“My father once served as a clerk in the army,” Zeng Gongming replied. “So I heard a bit.”

“I see.” Li Sanjian nodded. “Are all government troops like this?”

“Not entirely,” Wang Pan interjected. “The court also recruits ordinary people and sons of families for the army, and selects the brave and skilled for the Imperial Guard. Those trained in archery and cavalry, familiar with battle formations, are assigned to the Palace Army—these are the elite.”

So there were still elite troops in the court, Li Sanjian mused. If these soldiers, neither true soldiers nor proper servants, were sent to the front lines, wouldn’t it be disastrous?

“Whatever the case, we still rely on them to defend against foreign threats and protect the nation,” Li Sanjian said. “Since that’s so, shouldn’t we treat them with respect?”

“Rely on them to defend us?” Zeng Gongming scoffed. “These men fall apart at the first sign of battle—how can we expect anything from them?”

“Good iron doesn’t make nails; good men don’t become soldiers,” Wang Pan added. “With such troops, defeat is inevitable. During the Five Routes campaign against Xia in the Yuanfeng era, the army was utterly routed, tens of thousands lost. It was a disgrace of the highest order.”

Wang Pan then recounted the events of the Five Routes campaign during Yuanfeng. Though Wang Pan and his friends had been children ten years ago, even then they’d heard of the humiliation. Now, a decade later, any mention of it still brought shame to the Song people—a wound yet unhealed.

Li Sanjian listened in silence. He had known the Song army was weak, but he hadn’t realized it was so dire—corruption and chaos rampant, criminals and refugees recruited by the court. How could such an army possess any fighting power?

“Ah, Brother Mingstone,” Zeng Gongming sighed, “Let’s just drink. Why dwell on these things?”

“East Forest speaks well, let’s just drink,” Li Sanjian agreed.

The three threw themselves back into their revelry, discussing ancient and modern affairs, drinking with abandon. Three jars of lychee liquor were quickly emptied, and all were somewhat drunk.

Though the lychee liquor was mild, their wild drinking overwhelmed even its low strength. Li Sanjian was soon dizzy, rambling nonsense: “Let me tell you two… brothers, Professor Huang said… the Five Elements of Heaven and Earth are pure nonsense… There’s no gold, wood, water, fire, earth up there! Ha… hiccup!”

“Haha, Hanren… you’re at it again,” Zeng Gongming slurred. “If Heaven and Earth aren’t the Five Elements, what are they then?”

“Yes… Hehe, do you know where I come from?” Li Sanjian asked through bleary eyes.

“Where do you come from?” Zeng Gongming replied.

Weren’t you from Qiongtai in Guangnan, that wild place? Where else could you be from? Zeng Gongming wondered.

“I’ll… I’ll tell you…”

Just as Li Sanjian was about to speak, Wang Pan suddenly smashed his cup fiercely to the floor with a crisp sound, spilling wine everywhere.

His outburst startled Li Sanjian and Zeng Gongming, sobering them somewhat. They stared at Wang Pan, unsure why he had erupted.

“A true man, a great hero, should be like the Cavalry General—serve his country, sweep the battlefield, and even if he dies wrapped in his horse’s hide, his life would not be wasted!” Wang Pan shouted.

“Cavalry General? Which Cavalry General?” Li Sanjian asked.

“The Champion Marquis of Han—Huo Qubing. Mingstone admires General Huo above all,” Zeng Gongming explained.

“Bravo…” Li Sanjian praised. “Mingstone, your ambition is admirable, but right now we’re just students in the county academy. How can we talk of joining the army?”

“I intend to pursue the military examination,” Wang Pan replied, only lightly drunk.

“Oh… what’s the military examination?” Li Sanjian, sobered for a moment, then sank back into drunkenness, mumbled from the table.

“Hanren, what are your aspirations?” Wang Pan countered, not answering directly.

“My… my only wish is for my mother to live well—not to be scorned or bullied…” Li Sanjian’s words trailed off as his head thumped against the table, and he passed out.

…

“Rest assured, young masters.” Mountain Chief picked up Li Sanjian with one hand in thanks.

Mountain Chief had now learned enough of the language to converse simply, though his accent remained peculiar.

Li Sanjian was completely insensible from drink, and Wang Pan and Zeng Gongming brought him home. Mountain Chief carefully carried Li Sanjian into his room, laying him on the bed, and said to Little Sprout, “Sprout, take care.”

“Don’t worry, Brother Mountain Chief,” Little Sprout nodded.

“Oh, brother, you’re so heavy!” Once Mountain Chief had left, Little Sprout struggled to help Li Sanjian wash and change, but he kept tipping and falling, impossible to hold steady.

In truth, Li Sanjian wasn’t heavy. He had been working on his health lately, but he still appeared fragile. Yet even so, to Little Sprout he was like a mountain, especially since he was dead drunk.

Little Sprout hurried to his left side, and he tipped right; went right, and he tipped left—leaving Little Sprout breathless and sweating.

“Who… who are you?” Li Sanjian finally woke under Little Sprout’s efforts, squinting at her as she darted about.

“I… you…” Little Sprout, frustrated, stopped running and stood with hands on hips, pointing at Li Sanjian’s nose: “You call yourself a brother, drinking so much and not caring for your health—ugh, you stink!”

She wrinkled her brows, waving away the reeking breath Li Sanjian exhaled, her manner impossibly cute.

Hands on hips, Little Sprout scolded him, acting the part of the mistress.

“Haha… hiccup!” Li Sanjian, in his muddled state, saw only a blurry, adorable little girl flitting before him.

He burped and tried to grab at the butterfly-like figure, but drunken and weak, his sluggish movements missed every time, his stumbling steps making Little Sprout giggle.

“Ouch…” Li Sanjian crashed into the edge of the bed, crying out in pain as a large bump swiftly rose on his forehead.

“Brother, brother, are you all right?” Little Sprout, alarmed at his fall, rushed over and blew on his head to ease his pain.

“Oh, so it’s Little Sprout…” Li Sanjian, breathing in her delicate scent, finally recognized her.

“Pour me… some water…” Feeling the softness of her body, Li Sanjian’s thoughts wandered, and with his thirst worsened by drink, he asked.

“Brother, here’s your water…” Little Sprout ran to pour him a cup.

“Ouch…” This time it was Little Sprout who cried out—Li Sanjian, in his confusion, pulled her into his arms, collapsed onto the bed, and fell asleep.

The porcelain bowl of water crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces.