Chapter Fifty-Five: Becoming the Lesser One

Zhang Zhongyuan, a man of around forty, had passed the imperial examination in the third year of Xining under Emperor Shenzong, but later abandoned literature for martial pursuits. Known for his integrity and uprightness, he inevitably offended high-ranking officials at court and was eventually demoted to serve as the military administrator of Changhua Commandery in Qiongtai. Zhang admired and sympathized with Su Shi. Seeing that Su Shi and his son had no settled dwelling, he dispatched soldiers to repair a house for their lodging. For this, he was denounced by Dong Bi, a confidant of Zhang Dun, resulting in his dismissal and recall to the north, effective the following day.

“Someone come! Gather the soldiers and follow me to rescue him.”

As Zhang Zhongyuan was packing his simple belongings in preparation for his departure the next day, news abruptly arrived that Li Sanjian, the provincial graduate of Guangnan West Circuit, had been abducted. Without hesitation, Zhang gave his order.

Li Sanjian was a disciple of Su Shi. Now that he was in trouble, Zhang felt compelled to help.

“Administrator Zhang, you are to return north tomorrow. What are you doing now?” sneered an official from the Changhua garrison.

Zhang had already been dismissed, and his removal would take effect the next day. By custom, he should no longer be able to command even a single soldier.

“What am I doing?” Zhang replied slowly, “Am I not still the military administrator of Changhua today?”

“Well… I suppose you are,” the official answered after a moment’s hesitation.

Since the dismissal was not yet effective, Zhang truly remained in office for the day.

“In that case, are you not afraid to pass on my order? What is the punishment for disobeying a military command?” Zhang said with a cold smile.

The official had no choice but to go quickly and relay the order.

Thus Zhang mustered more than two hundred soldiers and yamen runners and set out for Wang’s Village to rescue Li Sanjian.

...

Within Wang’s Village, the father and son, Wang Ruikun and Wang Jian—one with a pale face, the other ruddy—were still pressing Li Sanjian to agree to a marriage, alternating between threats and persuasion, to the point that Li Sanjian was left exasperated and amused.

“Chief Wang,” Li Sanjian said helplessly, “my mother is not with me; I really cannot agree to this on my own.”

“Your mother is from our tribe; you need not worry about that. The question is, will you agree or not?” Wang Ruikun asked, his eyes fierce.

“This…” Li Sanjian shook his head and said nothing.

“My brother-in-law, what are you hesitating for?” Wang Jian pleaded earnestly. “Just look at this great village, so splendid and grand. I tell you, once you agree today, no one on this island would dare disrespect you. Besides, my little sister is as lovely as a flower—marrying her, you should count yourself lucky! Why do you resist such a good bargain?”

Lucky, indeed! Li Sanjian thought to himself. This was nothing less than a case of a tiger forcing a marriage, or rather, the actions of an utter fool. Who coerces a marriage like this? Did they really fear they couldn’t marry off their daughter? Especially since Wang Wen was still so young—how could this be permissible?

Li Sanjian couldn’t understand it, but in this world, such things were all too common. It was not just girls of seven or eight—sometimes even newborns had their marriages arranged, even betrothed before birth, or families would pledge their unborn children as future spouses if their relations were close. The examples were countless.

“Husband, how can you do this?” Just then, as Li Sanjian was feeling dizzy from their words, two figures entered, one tall and one small. One of them spoke to Wang Ruikun.

Both were women: Wang Wen and her mother, Madam Pan.

Li Sanjian turned to look. Though Madam Pan’s features were rather plain, her skin was fair and delicate, her words were like pearls, and her voice was gentle and clear, pleasing to the ear. There was an air of quiet elegance about her.

Wang Wen blushed, lowered her head, and dared not look at Li Sanjian.

As the mother and daughter passed, a gentle fragrance drifted in their wake.

“What are you here for?” Wang Ruikun asked, frowning.

“Husband,” Madam Pan said softly, “according to Song law, marriage within the same tribe is not permitted. This matter cannot succeed.”

“Song law?” Wang Ruikun mused. “This is Qiongtai—the Song laws don’t have much sway here. Besides, his mother is of the Li tribe; the Song laws don’t reach this far.”

Wang Ruikun’s loud voice softened at the sight of Madam Pan, as if a little afraid of her—or perhaps it was that he doted on her.

“Husband,” Madam Pan shook her head slightly, “tribal identity follows the father. Li Sanjian should be considered Han, and as such ought to obey Song law. If you force this, you’ll only bring harm upon him.”

“Ling’er,” Wang Ruikun was taken aback. “It’s just a tribal marriage in our Li clan. My beautiful daughter marrying him—how is that harm? Would the authorities on this island dare punish him?”

“The local authorities might not mind,” Madam Pan replied, “but, husband, he is the provincial graduate of Guangnan West Circuit, and must soon travel to the capital for the examinations. If he breaks Song law in this, how can he continue as a tribute student?”

Madam Pan knew Wang Ruikun’s true motive—he had his eye on Li Sanjian’s future. But if Wang Ruikun forced the marriage and word reached the court, Li Sanjian could be immediately barred from the examination and sent back to Qiongtai.

Countless eyes watched those few coveted places in the imperial examinations. Even if Li Sanjian succeeded, if this were known, he would certainly be disqualified.

If his future was ruined, what would Wang Ruikun value in him then?

“This…” The logic sank in for Wang Ruikun, and he hesitated, unsure whether to advance or retreat.

If he forced the marriage, Li Sanjian’s prospects would be destroyed, and he’d be no better than a strong young tribesman. But to give up now would make him the laughingstock of the clan.

“No, this cannot just end here,” Wang Ruikun shook his head. “Whether it succeeds or not, it must be done—at worst, the boy will have to stay in the village.”

Many villagers already knew of Wang Ruikun’s attempt to force the marriage; if he gave up now, he’d be ridiculed. Thus, he was determined to see it through.

“Absolutely not!” Li Sanjian suddenly shouted.

His outburst startled everyone, and all eyes turned to him.

“Third Brother…” Wang Wen also looked up at him, her expression strange, her voice barely audible.

“I…” Li Sanjian stammered, “My mother once told me that my father, while alive, had already arranged a marriage for me. I don’t know the details, but trust is the foundation of one’s character. A man must keep his word, and a son cannot disobey his father’s will. Therefore, I cannot agree to this.”

Li Sanjian was unaware of the Song laws regarding tribal intermarriage, nor did the distinction of Han and non-Han mean much to him. He did not dislike Wang Wen, nor did he particularly like her. Had it come to actual marriage negotiations, he would have been indifferent. Yet he was a filial son, and his mother had always told him never to break his word. He could not go against her wishes.

At this, all fell silent. The Li people valued promises too—one word, worth a thousand gold; to break a promise was deeply despised.

As silence fell, Wang Jian suddenly spoke to Wang Ruikun: “Father, I have a way to solve this.”

“Oh? What is your plan?”

It’s just a son-in-law—if need be, a future marriage could be arranged for Wang Wen.

Wang Ruikun had considered giving up, but Wang Jian’s words gave him pause. It would be a shame to lose such a talented young man…

“Father, here’s what I think—” Wang Jian began with a laugh, drawing an angry glare from Wang Ruikun and curious looks from Madam Pan and Li Sanjian.

“Well then,” Wang Jian hurried to explain, “if she cannot be a wife, she can be a concubine. If she cannot be the main wife, then at least a secondary wife—surely that’s good enough, hahaha…”

“Get out! Get out of my sight before I break your legs!” Wang Ruikun roared, jabbing a finger at his son’s nose.

So much for a good idea—who would willingly let their daughter become a concubine?

The status of a concubine was not much better than a servant’s. With the master’s favor, life was bearable, but without it, life could be worse than death.

Such was the fate of concubines. Madam Pan herself was one: though Wang Ruikun cherished Wang Wen, Madam Pan had to tread as carefully as a mouse before a cat in the presence of the main wife, ever fearful.

Upon hearing Wang Jian’s suggestion, a flash of anger crossed Madam Pan’s face.

Li Sanjian, too, was left speechless. A concubine? Did he even have the fortune for that?

He was penniless, with not even a wife—how could he have a concubine?

“Father…” Wang Jian hastily leaped aside.

“Get out! The farther the better! How could you, as her brother, suggest your own sister become a concubine?”

She was born of a concubine herself—what harm in becoming one? Wang Jian muttered inwardly but dared not speak aloud.

“Father, I am willing to be a concubine,” Wang Wen suddenly said. “If you would let Third Brother go, I would willingly become his concubine.”

“Wen’er…” Madam Pan cried out in alarm.

“Chief… Chief… something’s wrong!” At that moment, a panicked tribesman rushed in. “Outside… there are hundreds of Song soldiers…”

...

“Send word again—tell them to release him at once,” Zhang Zhongyuan ordered from atop a scruffy horse.

He understood the court’s loose rein policy: as long as the tribes within the Song border did not rebel, most matters were tolerated. Abduction—even murder—rarely brought severe punishment. Thus, extracting someone was no easy task.

A soldier acknowledged the order and was about to relay the message when suddenly the village gates swung open and a great throng poured out.

Startled, Zhang was about to form ranks when he realized these people carried no weapons but instead came beating gongs, clashing cymbals, playing suona horns, and wearing red sashes—a scene more suited to a festive wedding than a battle.