Chapter 23

On the morning of the fifteenth, while it was still dark, crows had already gathered about General Tan the Second's mourning-tent; they can always smell rotting flesh — and General Tan the Second, lying in his coffin, was a corpse with a body but no head.

In the horse-farm of the Tan army's camp, stationed twenty li from Yanjing's south gate, the warhorses were all being led out, their hooves setting the ground atremble; and so the few luckless wretches asleep in the fodder-stacks of the horse-farm pushed the hay aside together and poked out their heads, one after another, to look.

Ma Ergu looked with a face full of envy at the soldiers outside the horse-farm buckling on their new armor; a wisp of dry hay on his head, he glanced this way and that, and, not seeing Big Brother, turned and groped about — and at last, in the middle of a fodder-stack, laid hold of a man; one tug of his hand, and Chen Dasheng was hauled out flat on his back, opening his eyes to behold His Lordship the Sun.

In an instant two lines of hot tears washed out a lump of sleep-crust; Chen Dasheng threw an arm over his eyes and rolled over.

Then he shut his eyes to sleep again — only, thinking of that long dream, he... mm, better sleep a while more.

He closed his eyes again, but into his head rose that long dream of the night before — the dream that let him sleep easy from now on.

---

...The palace, flames leaping to the sky; killing-cries rising on every side, flesh and blood flying; a hundred and more war-cavalry drawn up before the last gate of the empire — these were fighters resolved to die.

He led his brothers in behind General Tan the Second; compared with those fully-armed riders, the Long Saber Battalion had only half a piece of cloth armor apiece, their backs bare, each man gripping his own long saber...

A general in black armor, his face fierce, to dodge the black horsemen opposite, grabbed up a foot-soldier beside him and thrust him in front as a shield.

In the dream Chen Dasheng roared out: "Yangdan!!"

Yangdan, run through on a black spear, was flung far off — one look and you knew he'd not live.

That day, what came into his mind he couldn't say — a great many things, perhaps.

His old home; his mother, and his elder sister; his granny; and his father, who fell into the river.

The recruits' camp, where he swore brotherhood with Wanquan, and bawled on the battlefield alongside little Hua'er... and later, when Tan the Second picked him out of the recruits' camp into the Long Saber Battalion, and he changed from a man into a ghost.

Two thousand strong young men, not a stitch on them, gripping only a wooden pole daubed with white lime, and facing them a whole even rank of fully-armed warhorses — the horses in heavy barding, the riders in heavy armor — who spurred their mounts into the heap of human flesh, while Meng Wanquan hauled him about, dodging this way and that...

The Long Saber Battalion had no soldiers who trained poorly and got driven out — only ones trampled to death by the horses, or stabbed to death on the blunt spear-tips of those riders. In less than three months, two thousand young men were down to five hundred, and of themselves they took shape into sharp wedge-formations, became the Long Saber Battalion, became the Tan family's blade.

Tan the Second had said: you need not hate me, nor need you be loyal to me; to this general you are objects, and this general is an object too. An object must know itself for an object — if you want a full belly, if you want to live, then go and earn it on the battlefield...

And go they did — no armor, only bare skin and flesh and bone — long sabers on their backs, numbly accepting the same death, every one of them; wave after wave of them went, until at the last there were only the eight of them left, and Yangdan wasn't even a Long Saber man.

There was a time when Chen Dasheng had envied Meng Wanquan; he was an accident — an accident even Tan the Second couldn't control.

And it was because of him that Chen Dasheng came to know Tan the Second could be defied — that he did not hold every object in his grip.

Wanquan had hacked off his own arm with one stroke and lain down at the enemy's battle-post, and been carried off by the other side and treated; some months later he came back to the Tan army, and Tan the Second, having no choice, could only give him a post and send him off.

That was how he leapt clear of death; and going, he laughed — such a free, unburdened laugh.

After that, the ghost pent up in Chen Dasheng's heart rose up: he too wanted to be free, just once.

Wanquan had said he didn't want to give the old Tan house a single day more, because they were evil ghosts.

And in the end that evil ghost lifted Yangdan up to take the spear for him. Where the strength came from Chen Dasheng himself never knew — with one stroke he split the black armor open, and with a backhand stroke he cut off Tan the Second's head.

The head spun in the air, its eyes staring at him in disbelief; he stepped forward and ground it under his foot... Free!

He'd long wanted to do it, and so he did.

To cover the thing over, his brothers worked themselves half to death clearing the battlefield, and left not a single living witness.

The cut of a long saber cannot be mistaken; so to disguise the saber-wound, Yu Qingguan found one of the enemy's waist-sabers and cut through Tan the Second's neck a second time. And perhaps to comfort him, the other six brothers each stepped up and added a stroke, until Tan the Second's body was hacked all to pieces.

They say that when the Tan family came to collect the body, they brought a tailor along.

As for the head, which was awkward to deal with, they threw it into the palace's lotus pond. And because they'd gone so far in to fling it, the men themselves got lost in the palace.

Of late, with no more fighting, Chen Dasheng kept thinking of Yangdan. What a sharp little thing that child was — he called every one of these sin-laden men of theirs "Papa."

Yangdan had no surname; Chen Dasheng had picked him up at the edge of the last battlefield. The child had said: give me a bite to eat and you'll be my ancestor... Chen Dasheng said, I'll give you food, but I'll not be your ancestor — call me Papa and I'll give you a bun.

And so Yangdan called him Papa, and he brought the boy to the Long Saber Battalion, where he became a little soldier with no pay and no tally-tag.

The Long Saber Battalion drew up in a sharp-pointed wedge; he was the spear-tip, and Yangdan the tail. None of them would have Yangdan's hands bloodied, and so his hands never were bloodied; the child was kept safe and well, and laughed every day.

But what had the child run up to the front for that night? Thinking of it now — the army rations were short, and the boy, likely hungry, had gone to rummage in the grain-sacks.

The boy doted on his papas; every time they took the field, while they killed up front Yangdan looted at the rear, and his thin little body could always carry back a great deal — inside and out, even the very socks on Chen Dasheng's feet, Yangdan had scavenged for him.

Chen Dasheng used to think that ghosts like them had really died long ago; even if they still drew breath, a man could be light as a feather, without any weight at all.

Like his father, his uncles and elder brothers — men who came into this world and never got out of their own village, and died without a sound; who, save their own kin, would ever know where you were from, which way your front gate faced, whether there was a great scholar-tree by your door.

When he was small, Granny had told him: in the springtime don't go robbing birds' eggs, for they lay but one clutch a year; and don't go pissing on the ant-hills either — one sinful piss like that and thousands of lives are gone, and how will it go for you in the next life then?

In truth there was no need to wait for retribution in the next life; in this one he'd already borne it.

Back then his mother was forever complaining that this was no good and that was no good; but thinking of it now, the old home was where he'd been happiest of all.

He was the youngest in the third branch, and his elder brothers doted on him most, so he dared to carry on; at the least thing he'd bawl his head off, crying for Granny, for Grandpa, for Mama, for Papa, for elder brother, for elder sister...

There were always people at home; he'd only to bawl and a whole crowd would come to soothe him, and in the end he'd take a few kicks from his father, and then, clutching the warm boiled egg Granny had cooked him, run outside to go on watching the ants...

---

"Boss, isn't that our banner?"

The Long Saber Battalion's banners flew, and the generals in heavy armor slowly filed out of the camp.

Chen Dasheng looked hard a long while, then shook his head, but said nothing: how could that be the Long Saber Battalion's banner — so clean, so bright?

Guan Si'er said: "Big Brother, where do you reckon they're off to?"

Chen Dasheng looked off into the distance; he didn't know.

After they'd made their hard way back from the palace, the few of them had been dumped at the horse-farm and left to no one's care. No one had even asked them how Tan the Second died.

Lucky the fellows at the horse-farm remembered to call them at mealtimes each day, or they'd not have known where to go to fill their bellies.

These past days Chen Dasheng kept spinning sweet dreams: now that they were of no more use, could they perhaps go home — as the old soldiers put it, lay down the armor and return to the fields?

When could they go home?

Chen Dasheng lay in the fodder-stack and dreamed on; there'd be nothing to eat today anyhow, so better not stir.

Who knows how much time passed before a soldier in a long suit of armor, with a full beard, was led up to the fodder-stack by one of the horse-farm veterans.

The soldier looked at the veteran, quite astonished, and asked: "Here?"

The veteran gave him an odd look: "That's right — Captain Chen is right here."

With that he turned and walked off, leaving the bearded man staring wretchedly at the fodder-stack; only after a good while did he ask, his voice trembling: "Excuse me... is Captain Chen — is he, is he — in? In his tent?"

No sooner were the words out than five or six heads poked out of the fodder-stack; and seeing the bearded man, one head asked with a grin: "He's in, he's in!"

And with that, it kicked a man out with one foot.

Chen Dasheng tumbled to the ground, picked himself up unhurriedly, reached out to scratch his head, looked the soldier over, and asked, a bit puzzled: "You're from over yonder?"

The soldier's face twitched, and only after a long while, as if he'd found his soul again, did he say: "Greetings, Captain Chen. This lowly one is of Earl Chang's own guard; today I came with my lord to pay respects to General Tan the Second."

What had that to do with him? Chen Dasheng went on looking at the soldier, mystified.

Seeing Chen Dasheng make no sound, the soldier hurriedly took a letter from his breast and held it out to him: "Some days back, my young general went to see your — your honorable household's old lady; and as luck would have it, your honorable household's old lady had just taken a wife for Captain Chen..."

Before the soldier had finished, the fodder-stack came down with a crash, and Ma Ergu and the others scrambled up and darted over to the soldier, all asking at once: "What's that you say? What'd you say? Our Big Brother's got a wife? What's she like? Where's she from? Are her eyes big? Is her backside round? Can she bear sons?"

Hu Yougui turned his face to Chen Dasheng and said: "Big Brother, when you've got a son, let's call him Yangdan, eh? Then I'll be a papa again!"

As chance would have it, this soldier had gone with Chang Lianfang and seen Qi Qian'er, and knew something of the matter, so he stood there and told it through, simply, once.

The gist of it was: the old lady at home had married a wife to her grandson — a worthy woman, lettered and well-mannered; the old lady didn't know where Chen Dasheng was, and as it happened Chang Lianfang had gone to the sick-and-wounded camp, so the new wife had asked the young general to carry Chen Dasheng word.

The soldier passed the letter over, and Chen Dasheng, all flustered, put out his hand, then drew it back, scrubbed it hard against his filthy cloth armor a few times, and took the letter; shaking the paper open, he said to the soldier, abashed: "Brother — sorry to trouble you! I can't read."

The soldier laughed at that: "I know — your lady said the same."

That said, he put his finger on the opened paper, tapping it, and explained: "Your lady says her name is Huo Qiqian. See here — this is Huo, your lady's surname; she's a native of Yanjing, from a scholar's family. This is Qi, the number seven. And this is Qian — a kind of red madder grass."

Chen Dasheng's eyes slowly brimmed with a smile — red grass, red... and before his eyes there rose a great hillside, a hillside just like the one at his old home, and all over that slope grew red grass.

The soldier pointed next at Chen Dasheng's name: "Here — this is your name, sir: Chen — Da — sheng! Your name has a fine sound to it, very lucky indeed."

So that was how his own name was written? Chen Dasheng had it by heart at a single look.

The soldier said to Chen Dasheng with a smile: "Your lady said too: knowing you can't read, she wrote just the names, so you'd know — Chen Dasheng has a wife now, and her name is Huo Qiqian; and if anyone asks hereafter, you'll have your answer ready.

"Today my young general had meant to come and see the captain in person, but as he was setting out the Emperor called him to attend the imperial carriage, so he's busy up at the front now and can't come; he bade this lowly one tell the captain that all is well at home — the new wife is worthy and gentle, and looks after the old lady very well — so you're only to look after yourself. And from now on, if there's grain or pay, don't send it home with Fourth Uncle Chen anymore; it makes no difference, for even sent home, Granny never gets the use of it..."

His piece said, the soldier looked, smiling, at Captain Chen before him, who had already gone soft with grinning.

Seeing him fall silent, Chen Dasheng asked eagerly: "Is that all?"

Nothing more?

The soldier shook his head; and seeing Chen Dasheng's face fall, he couldn't bear it and added a line: "This lowly one has met your honored lady — a kind and dutiful young woman, and a most capable one; and besides... mm, your lady's family is quite well-off, and lately came into a windfall too, so keeping one old lady is no trouble at all..."

That said, the soldier left, and there stood foolish Chen Dasheng, rooted to the spot stiff as a pole, the smile on his face frozen in place.

He didn't speak, didn't move, only held the writing and looked, and looked, murmuring the two names over and over in his heart; and there even rose in his head a woman in red, her face unclear, saying to him again and again: "Chen Dasheng has a wife now, and her name is Huo Qiqian."

That sheet of paper burned scalding-hot against Chen Dasheng's heart, and went on burning until another person came to the horse-farm.

Wu Xiu, in a full suit of brand-new, gleaming blood-red leather armor, a long saber slung on his back besides, came up before Chen Dasheng full of self-importance; and though both of them were captains, he did not dismount, but called him by his bare name: "Chen Dasheng!"

Chen Dasheng hastily and carefully tucked the family letter into his breast, and only then looked up: "Captain Wu."

Wu Xiu looked over his shabby, unkempt state and gave a scornful little snort; then he took from his breast a letter sealed with a vermilion-lacquer army seal and tossed it down.

Chen Dasheng caught it, glanced at it, and said: "Is it a command from the marshal's tent?"

Wu Xiu lifted his chin: "It is."

Chen Dasheng's heart gave a sudden wrench, but he let none of it show as he said: "I can't read."

Wu Xiu shot him a contemptuous glance: "The Grand General knows that, which is why he sent me. You're to make ready these next couple of days; the day after tomorrow, lead your men off with the grain-train to Zuoliang Pass in Jinzhou, and report to the local garrison commander there, Tan Ying — he'll see to where you're posted..."

At this point Wu Xiu bent to look at the few luckless wretches, and, able to hold it no longer, burst into wild laughter: "Hahaha... Farewell, then; may Captain Chen have boundless prospects. I'll not see you off the day after tomorrow. Good day! Hahahaha..."

He raised his whip and went off in a trail of dust.

They wouldn't let him lay down his armor and go back to the fields? Wouldn't let him go home?

These two thoughts filled Chen Dasheng's whole head.

He'd been to Jinzhou; six thousand li from Yanjing...

Someone was muttering in Chen Dasheng's ear: "That bastard — Big Brother's only just got a wife, and he's not even laid eyes on her yet..."

From far off came a sudden long cry.

...Might and valor... Might and valor! Might and valor! Might and valor!

It was the roar of the soldiers mustering.

Chen Dasheng looked off into the distance, then took the family letter from his breast and stroked it a while; at last he tore open the envelope after all, shook out the military order, and — unable to read — could only run his eyes over it. But scan it as he might, he did not see the three characters Chen Dasheng.

In an instant, as though a sharp knife had sprung up under his backside, Chen Dasheng leapt to his feet; he held the order up and looked it over front and back, left and right, counting every character on it one by one — no Chen here, no Da, no Sheng...

He could hardly believe his eyes; he tore a half-sized sheepskin satchel from his waist, turned it upside down and shook it, and out fell two sheepskin bundles.

Opening one of them, there were all the military orders the marshal's tent had issued him since he'd been raised to captain.

A thick stack of them — a good hundred orders, all told.

"Lay them out! Lay them out!"

Chen Dasheng ordered his brothers.

Cui Erdian, thinking Big Brother had gone mad, murmured: "Big Brother, are you all right? Don't be afraid — tonight, why don't we make a run for it tonight!"

Chen Dasheng roared at him: "Open them! I told you to open up these orders!!!"

And so, at the edge of the horse-farm, Cui Erdian and the others spread out the orders one by one, weighting them down with stones...

And Chen Dasheng knelt down on the ground, holding the family letter his wife had written him, and searched those orders for the three characters Chen Dasheng.

Not there, not there, not there... not one order among them had Chen Dasheng on it...