Gao Yi

He didn’t know how long he had been reading when a knock came at the door. The servant called out, “Benefactor! It’s noon!” Wang Bo responded and remembered his business, about to put the book back, but as his eyes flickered, he reached out and took the box as well, carefully packing the book and cradling it in his arms as he left the study. As he walked, he thought, “You thanked me for saving your clansmen, so you won’t begrudge a single book, right? I mustn’t let my good deed go unrewarded!”

Following the servant to the front hall, Tian Chou greeted him with a beaming smile. “Master Wang, please, come in!” Wang Bo raised his hand in courtesy, “After you, sir.” The two entered the guest chamber together.

Tian Feng sat below, and when Wang Bo entered, he didn’t rise but put down his book and gestured to the opposite seat for Wang Bo to sit. Tian Chou glared fiercely at Tian Feng, invited Wang Bo to the seat of honor but, seeing his invitation declined, took the seat himself.

Wang Bo placed the wooden box on the table, gave Tian Feng a respectful bow, then sat down with a smiling face, waving to Tian Chou, “It’s nothing, Elder Tian.” Across from him, Tian Feng’s face, already somewhat stern, grew even colder at the sight of the box. He snorted and turned away.

Tian Chou, frustrated, stood and looked between Tian Feng and Wang Bo, stomped his foot, and stormed out. The two left in the room stared at each other.

Wang Bo observed Tian Feng closely: he wore a wide, clean blue scholar’s robe and a matching headscarf, all washed and neat, giving an impression of brisk spirit. Yet the worn edges of his clothing were evident, though not patched. His nose was high and prominent, brows broad, cheeks gaunt, and his neatly trimmed mustache hung slightly down. Everything seemed proper, but those moderately sized eyes, though half-lidded, shot forth a deep gaze that made Wang Bo uncomfortable, sending goosebumps across his skin—as if stripped naked and examined under a magnifying glass, every secret laid bare to the light of day.

After sizing him up and down, Wang Bo felt a shock: So this is one of the greats of the Eastern Han! He’s like a monster! This won’t do! He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. “I’m just excited! I’ve walked the Ghost City of the Underworld, faced the Kings of Hell, and I can’t handle Tian Feng, Tian Yuanhao?”

After this mental journey, Wang Bo calmed himself, plastered on a smile, and said, “Brother Tian, your family’s collection is vast—reading it is like a wanderer finding food, or a drought meeting rain! Especially this book in the box, which I cherish most. Might Brother Yuanhao part with it?”

A hint of ridicule flashed in Tian Feng’s eyes. “Master Wang, do you delight in hunting, wishing to possess all you fancy? If something is not to your liking, would you use any means, fair or foul, to seize it?”

Wang Bo laughed heartily. “Do you know all my methods, Brother Tian? If so, you might as well sit at home and know all the world’s affairs!”

Tian Feng’s expression didn’t change. “Though I haven’t seen your methods firsthand, my uncle has told me every detail. I believe I can guess at your intentions and schemes.”

“What does Tian Feng think?”

“All trivial tricks, hardly worth a gasp!”

“Hahaha!” Wang Bo laughed again, though this time to cover his embarrassment and to buy time to think.

“As the saying goes: ‘Reading ten thousand books is no match for walking ten thousand miles!’ Brother Yuanhao sits at home yet understands my deeds, thoughts, and plans in the mountains! Truly a talent of the ages!”

“No need to mock me so coldly! If I were ignorant, would I dare speak boldly and make assumptions about you?”

“Not entirely! Do you know what the ‘Rise of Han’ means in ‘Rise of Han Fort’?”

“It’s nothing but using the name ‘Rise of Han’ for the Yellow Turban rebels! Your motto ‘Act for Heaven’s sake, rise the Han Yellow Turbans’ speaks for itself!”

“Hahaha! Brother Yuanhao, do you know what ‘Heaven is dead, Yellow Turbans shall stand’ means, specifically ‘Heaven’?”

“Even a child knows ‘Heaven’ refers to the Han dynasty!”

“Wrong, wrong! I didn’t expect you to repeat what others say! In our Yellow Turban doctrine, ‘Heaven’ refers to the current court. ‘Heaven is dead’ means the present emperor is foolish, eunuchs hold power, relatives vie for influence, ministers neglect the nation. It does not mean the Han dynasty’s four hundred years are over!”

“Smooth words and pretty faces! This is just the ‘Eight Princes’ Rebellion’ slogan ‘Purify the court’—a false pretense for rebellion!”

“Pretending? Our Yellow Turbans wish only to kill corrupt officials and local tyrants who oppress the people! If we wanted rebellion, we could raise the banner ‘Han is dead’ outright, or follow the Han founder’s example of restoring Chu against Qin—far more effective!”

“Heh, sophistry! Not to be trusted!” Tian Feng’s expression remained unmoved.

“Seems I lost the first round!” Wang Bo thought. His mind raced, and he continued, “Few are so stubborn as Brother Tian! Even if the Yellow Turbans are rebels, the followers are all poor folk, forced by circumstance, not deliberate rebels! This is the same as Chen She and Wu Guang at the end of Qin…”

“Rebellion is always deliberate! How can you say ‘forced by circumstance’? Is arson and pillage also ‘forced’?” Tian Feng interrupted.

“Hehehe!” Wang Bo laughed dryly. “Ignorant brutes, starving and stealing is human nature! How can they compare to Brother Yuanhao, learned and wise? But our Yellow Turbans only rob local tyrants, never the poor. The Han army, on the other hand, often kills the innocent for merit!” Seeing Tian Feng’s dismissive snort, he pressed, “If it was deliberate rebellion, why so reckless? Does Yuanhao know why the Yellow Turbans were defeated?”

“They caused chaos and lost the people’s hearts!”

“Brother Yuanhao, you’re mistaken again! Do local gentry and corrupt officials represent the people? Did you not see when the Yellow Turban banner was raised, eight Han provinces responded, followers flocked in droves? Is your ‘people’ only officials and gentry, not the countless Han commoners?”

“Twisting words! I never said that! By your reasoning, why did the rebels fail?”

Wang Bo grinned slyly and repeated what he’d told Yang Feng, picking out the key points while watching Tian Feng’s reaction.

Tian Feng’s mocking expression gradually shifted to a slight frown of contemplation, though he remained steady.

“So, Tian Feng truly wears his heart on his sleeve—his emotions are visible, not like most politicians with deep reserves and unreadable faces. Seems I won’t have to guess at his thoughts in the future,” Wang Bo mused.

After Tian Feng pondered for a while, he pulled the wooden box toward him. “Brother Yuanhao, please look!” Wang Bo, walking to Tian Feng’s left, opened the silk book, found the map of Bing Province, and pointed.

“Here is Yin Mountain, where the Han champion marched against the Xiongnu. These two ranges meet at Yanmen Gouzhu Pass.” His finger traced a circle along the mountains. “Here, one can defend against the northern Xiongnu, the southwest is blocked by mountains from the imperial army, leaving only two wide openings to the northeast.” He pointed to an unnamed ridge in the northeast. “If a strong force guarded here, the Xianbei and Wuhuan would not dare invade, fearing their retreat cut off…”

“Hiss!” Tian Feng exclaimed, his brows knit tightly. After a long pause, he said, “Armchair strategy is unreliable!”

“Ha! If the Yellow Turbans intended rebellion, we’d plan thoroughly before acting. If a million from Ji, You, and Jing provinces gathered here and defended, what could tens of thousands of imperial troops do?”

“Hmph! It’s a poor land, often invaded by barbarians. How would you feed your army?”

Wang Bo pointed. “With this! The Hetao region has always been fertile, perfect for raising horses! If we held it, in three years our troops and horses would be strong enough to sweep the land! If chaos broke out in the central plains, we could advance or retreat, standing undefeated!”

Tian Feng pondered for a long while, murmuring, “Victory and defeat depend on many variables! If the Han gathered elite troops and allied with the barbarians…”

“Tian Yuanhao!” Wang Bo’s expression changed, interrupting sharply, “I misjudged you! You, a learned man of Han, would collude with barbarians to slaughter Han people! A fine strategy! Such talent! Yet our Yellow Turban followers, though crude, understand loyalty and righteousness. Even facing death, they would never stoop so low! Our paths differ, I’ll not conspire with you! I leave now, we shall not meet again!” With that, he strode toward the door.

Tian Feng sprang up, hurriedly grabbed Wang Bo’s sleeve, and cried, “I didn’t mean that! Benefactor, stay! Please stay!” He was so hasty he overturned the table, holding Wang Bo, his face flushed.

Wang Bo turned, still angry. “Our Yellow Turban methods are trivial compared to yours!”

Tian Feng took a deep breath and spoke softly, “Master, you misunderstand me. Please sit, let’s discuss in detail!”

Wang Bo paused, picked up the box and book from the floor, brushed away imaginary dust, and sat down again, letting Tian Feng save face.

Tian Feng righted the table and knelt beside it, awkwardly saying, “I too am a descendant of the Han Emperor’s noble house; surely loyalty and righteousness are in my heart. I was merely thinking as if I were in the Yellow Turban’s place, considering the options, not advocating betrayal. Words slipped in the heat of the moment—please forgive me, Master.”

After a brief pause, he continued, “Your insightful words just now taught me much. Had Zhang Jiao met you sooner, the outcome might have been different! Truly, you are the most remarkable scholar I’ve met. May I ask, Master, where is your native place? Who was your teacher?”

Wang Bo replied, “I grew up deep in the mountains, raised and taught by my master. My origins are unknown; I only heard from my teacher that I was an abandoned child.”

“Your teacher must have been a reclusive sage! Not meeting him is my lifelong regret!”

“My master was indeed extraordinary, but I fear he has already ascended or passed away…” He rubbed his eyes, squeezing out a few dry tears.

“Ah, Master, don’t grieve too much. I too lost both parents young, relying on my uncle and clan to grow up.”

Seeing this, Wang Bo took the chance to ask, “Brother Yuanhao, with your talent and strategy, why remain here? What are your plans for the future?”

Tian Feng smiled slightly. “Benefactor, I understand your meaning. Your eloquence shows your ambition and vision, and my uncle’s words reveal your compassion—truly astounding! Yet after resigning my post, I’ve lost hope. Even your words have shaken me, leaving me at a loss, feeling my own shortcomings. I have no intention of following you to the mountains. I am ashamed, Benefactor; please forgive me.”

Wang Bo hurriedly said, “Brother Yuanhao, do you still hope for the current emperor? I assure you: within three years, chaos will engulf the land! The Western Qiang will rebel, barbarians will invade, local tyrants will grow, poor people will rise up, unrest everywhere. The thirteen provinces’ governors will protect themselves, watching the rebels, while generals Huangfu Song and Zhang Rang chase endlessly, powerless to turn the tide!”

“I share your feeling, but…”

“If it cannot be done, why force it?” Wang Bo interrupted. “After spring, I’ll cross the ancient mountains to Yanmen Commandery, seeking a refuge for my tens of thousands of Yellow Turban followers. Why not join me, and emulate the Champion Marquis and Flying General, riding north to drive out the barbarians? You would free the frontier folk from suffering and restore the glory of Emperor Wu!”

Though Tian Feng hesitated, he still shook his head. Wang Bo sighed, “Now that I am with the Yellow Turbans, I will devote my life to saving my brothers from chaos, defying gods and demons, facing death without regret! Take care, Brother Yuanhao. If your clansmen wish to return home, I will escort them! Forgive my rashness. Farewell!”

Tian Feng smiled wryly, “I know your little tricks, but they do no harm—only show your prudence. My clansmen’s choices are their own; I won’t interfere. Safe journey, Benefactor!”

The two walked outside, only then realizing dusk was near. Their conversation had been so engrossing they’d missed the servant lighting the lamps. They smiled at each other. Tian Feng said, “It’s late. Benefactor, rest tonight and depart tomorrow.”

Wang Bo nodded, saw the carriage in the courtyard, and turned, saying, “A little gift, just a token. Please don’t throw it outside like last time, Brother Yuanhao?”

Tian Feng blushed. “Don’t tease me, Benefactor. Fine! I’ll accept it. Thank you for your generosity!”

“It’s nothing.” With that, he cupped his hands and headed to the room he’d stayed in last night. Behind him, Tian Chou shouted, “Yuanhao is ignorant and stubborn! I’ll go to the mountains too—I won’t stay here!”

Wang Bo shook his head helplessly, gave a bitter smile, and said no more.

The night passed without incident. Early the next morning, Wang Bo and Tian Feng stared at each other for a long time. Wang Bo sighed deeply, said nothing, and rode off.

Tian Feng stood by the roadside, watching Wang Bo’s party leave, then turned back thoughtfully. Back at the mansion, he couldn’t find Tian Chou and asked the servant cleaning the courtyard.

The servant stammered, “After seeing the Tian ancestral land all empty, uncle lost the desire to rebuild and has gone with the Benefactor.” Then, remembering, he said, “Last night, Benefactor asked me to bring your wooden box and book, and told me to give it to you after he’d left. I couldn’t refuse, so… please punish me if you wish.”

Tian Feng laughed, “No matter! I meant to give the book to the Benefactor anyway—just forgot in all my thoughts today!”

The servant added, “Benefactor also asked me to give you this cloth strip!” He pulled it from his pocket and handed it to Tian Feng.

Tian Feng took it and saw a line of clumsy clerical script: “Have you not heard that giving help in snow is more precious than adding flowers to brocade?” Tian Feng laughed long and loud, calling out, “A wonderful man! A wonderful man! If he manages well, he’ll be famous throughout the land one day!”

Meanwhile, Wang Bo sat on horseback, dejected, even pushing away Xu Chu when he approached, then slapped his horse and rode off, yelling to vent his feelings.

With snow blocking the mountains, the return journey was harder than the descent, though less plagued by roadside extortion. It was two days later when Wang Bo finally returned to “Rise of Han Fort.”

Everyone gathered in the great wooden hall, where two hearths burned brightly and the warmth was extraordinary. Seeing Wang Bo return, they were overjoyed, abandoning the soldiers still training outside, all sitting at the tables and laughing with Wang Bo.

This great hall was modeled after a conference room from Wang Bo’s previous life, with a long wooden table in the center, seating thirty or forty people comfortably. Instead of kneeling pads, there were two-foot-tall wooden stools topped with cushions. Above the door outside hung a sign: “Meeting Room.”