The Talang stronghold was quite large. In the eyes of Zhù Ying and the other “outsiders from the lowlands,” it was not so very different from the Asu family’s stronghold. But in the eyes of “their own people,” the differences were considerable — from the carved stones to the bells hanging from the eaves, all spoke of a distinct character.
One striking difference was immediately visible — beside the open space in front of the stronghold gate stood a row of tall poles. Atop each pole sat an inverted cone-shaped container made of woven bamboo and wood strips, and inside each container rested a heavily-bearded skull. These heads were fairly fresh, exposed to the late-spring sunlight.
Zhù Ying had never scouted the Talang stronghold before, but she had brought Chou Wen along, and this was also Chou Wen’s homeland, so he knew the terrain well. Chou Wen’s grandfather’s head had long been taken down and buried — compared to the sacrificial offerings before them now, that could be counted as a better ending.
To enter the stronghold gate, one had to pass beneath this row of tall poles. They stood very high, and to see the containers atop them, you had to tip your head all the way back. If you simply kept your head down and walked, you might not notice anything strange. But Zhù Ying’s party had approached the stronghold gate from a distance, and they had spotted this peculiar sight from far away. Even the battle-hardened constables — “long dwelt among the non-Han peoples, gradually taken on their ways” — felt their hearts thudding.
Zhù Ying’s expression did not change. With “Wolf Brother” leading the way ahead, they made their way straight to the Talang stronghold gate.
The gate stood open, and a person came out to receive “Wolf Brother.” Zhù Ying could follow their conversation — the man inside had a small mustache and said: “The cave-master will be right here!”
“Wolf Brother” quietly urged: “Wasn’t it agreed he would come to meet us himself?”
Chou Wen gave another soft murmur of complaint. He could not be said to feel nothing for this stronghold, yet looking at it now, everything unsettled him. The man with the small mustache, trying to bridge the awkward moment, turned to speak to him: “Leopard, you’re finally back! Didn’t I always say it? We’re all one family.”
Chou Wen choked on a mouthful of air.
“Wolf Brother” had to use the pretense of making introductions to buy a little time. He pointed to the area outside the gate and said: “Those are not Asu family heads — we haven’t fought them much at all these past two years.” The Asu family had genuinely gained certain advantages from the lowlands, and the Talang people’s most immediate, visceral sense of this was that fighting them had become more of a struggle than before. They’d grown harder to deal with.
Zhù Ying glanced at the tall poles and thought: All of those will have to come down.
Several of her constables behind her had their hands moving toward their sword hilts.
Zhù Ying said: “Have they been capturing people from your tribe?”
“Wolf Brother” said: “They don’t come over this way anymore either.” He then gave a brief description of the stronghold — similar in style to the other side, but he spoke with thorough familiarity, particularly emphasizing its differences from the Asu family. He had said similar things once already, and repeating them a second time made things feel odd. Senior Sister Hu and the others were even more alert.
Zhù Ying looked at the people inside the stronghold, who were also looking back at her with curiosity. The bold ones stood openly by the roadside; the cautious ones pressed against the walls or peeked from rooftop corners. Zhù Ying noticed some of these glances but paid them no mind, while her followers were so tense they seemed to expect an assassin to leap out of the crowd at any moment.
Just when it seemed they could stall no longer, a party of people came through with a great commotion of noise!
“Blade Brother” had arrived.
His dress was much the same as before — an open-collar vest baring his chest, his head wrapped in layers of headcloths, into which a few vivid, brightly colored feathers had been inserted. His earlobes bore large silver rings, each set with a large red gemstone. His wrists were adorned with thick silver bracelets. At his waist hung a blade. His black clothing was embroidered with broad bands of vivid patterned flowers.
His attendants had been chosen from the stronghold’s sturdiest men — most of them tall and large, with a few shorter figures who nonetheless radiated a ferocious, swift energy. The young man who had worn a flower in his headcloths last time was nowhere to be seen.
Zhù Ying looked again at “Blade Brother.” The four marks that had been visible on his neck last time had faded, but he had acquired some new decorations. His ears were still red — the places where the silver rings were pierced showed a trace of blood. His arms bore a series of marks as well, none of which looked like cat scratches.
Zhù Ying pretended not to notice, and greeted him.
“Blade Brother,” unlike before, had dropped some of his stiffness, and he even smiled: “The Prefect truly came.”
Zhù Ying said: “I said I would.” She gestured for him to look behind her. Several large carts stood there, loaded with coffins, inside which lay bags and bags of remains.
“Blade Brother” asked in surprise: “By cart?” The mountain roads were difficult, so the people he had sent used horses, loading the cloth bags onto the horses’ backs and taking them that way — no carts. Carts could carry more, but it was hard work on the uphill sections and difficult to control on the downhill stretches.
Zhù Ying said: “Yes.” She had also brought some gifts for the Talang family — bolts of cloth, for instance. Not much different from what she had first given the Asu family. When she had first made contact with the Asu family she had been poor; now that she had more money, she could put together a similar amount without difficulty.
“Blade Brother” said: “Please come inside!”
“Wolf Brother” was privy to the arrangement and explained to the people of the stronghold: “It’s the Prefect who spoke on our behalf, and the two sides are exchanging their people back.” Unlike Chou Wen — who was literate — “Wolf Brother” had knowledge of languages but could not read. Chou Wen, meanwhile, had no intention of leaving Zhù Ying’s side for a moment, terrified she might be harmed. So Zhù Ying left a literate constable to stay with “Wolf Brother” and help identify the labels on the bags.
Bones that had long decayed were already past distinguishing. Only gender and approximate age could be identified. When a rough match was found, the remains would be handed over to that family — to give the living something to hold onto.
Zhù Ying and “Blade Brother” rode side by side. “Blade Brother” started to say: “That bird certainly wouldn’t be willing—”
A great uproar suddenly broke out not far away. “Blade Brother’s” face darkened and he growled an order in a low voice: “Tell them to stop fighting!”
Zhù Ying looked toward the source of the sound. “Blade Brother” said, with an air of embarrassment: “A small domestic matter. We mountain people aren’t as complicated as you lowlanders — you like someone, you like them; you don’t like someone, you don’t. A fight, an exchange of insults — afterward you’re back to living normally.”
Zhù Ying said: “Well, that sounds rather good.”
“Blade Brother” reached up and touched his neck: “Ah, yes, it is.”
This stronghold, like all mountain strongholds, had been built along the contours of the terrain — the houses rising and falling with the land. “Blade Brother’s” home was among those set higher up. His home was the finest house in the whole stronghold, with a large open space out in front, and many people gathered to receive the visitors. They came to the space in front of the house. “Blade Brother” dismounted, and Zhù Ying also came down from her horse. People in the black-vested attire came over and gestured toward the direction of the stables.
“Blade Brother” said: “My home is decent enough to stay in, isn’t it?”
Zhù Ying said: “Quite good.”
Seeing how tense Chou Wen was, “Blade Brother” said with distinct displeasure: “You don’t have to treat me like a thief! There is no one here today who will make trouble! The ones who were going to be disruptive have been sent off with a whipping to guard the forest!”
Chou Wen gave another quiet snort.
“Blade Brother” asked Zhù Ying: “How did the Prefect see through him that day?”
Zhù Ying said: “Did you never encounter that type growing up?”
“Blade Brother” said: “Never.”
Zhù Ying was at a loss. She had encountered far too many boys like that as a child — foul-mouthed and troublesome, despised by all. The children of outsider spirit-medium families tended to accumulate more experience than most. If you allowed yourself to be frightened every time, they would keep coming back to frighten you for sport, and might even teach smaller children the same “fun” game. The only solution was to pick the most persistent offender and beat him — beat him until he was afraid, beat him until the onlookers feared it too. After that, these kinds of pranks would never come near you again. They would go find easier targets elsewhere.
At this point, a wave of crying rose from somewhere down the slope — people had already received back their family members’ remains.
At the main house, the doors stood wide open, and two groups of people came rushing out! One was led by a gray-haired woman. Apart from the wrinkles on her face and the white mixed into her hair, her manner of movement gave no hint of her age. The other group was led by a young bride — a round face, rosy and plump, with large, dark, bright eyes.
Zhù Ying looked at these two women and noticed their dress was quite distinctly different — not like people from the same tribe. Within the same tribe, the difference between the poor and the wealthy in their clothing was usually immense, especially in the women’s adornments — the gap between poor women and wealthy women was like two different worlds. But these two were not like that — both women’s clothing was vivid and bright, both wore fine jewelry.
“Blade Brother” said: “This is my mother. This is my wife.”
The young bride looked at Zhù Ying with a bright smile: “So you’re the official with a lot of nerve?”
Zhù Ying said: “That would be me.”
The older woman gave a slight cough: “Don’t keep standing outside — come in and sit down.”
Zhù Ying said: “Very well.”
She showed respect for the elder and followed them inside. She found that inside was another courtyard, and beyond the courtyard was a row of large rooms — stone foundations below, wooden construction above. Inside, a fire pit burned. Above the fire pit sat a chair that was “Blade Brother’s.” His wife and mother took the positions on the left and right, and “Blade Brother” invited Zhù Ying to sit in the honored guest’s position facing him. They served tea. Zhù Ying noticed that the family used lowland porcelain, and the tea was also lowland tea — not homemade mountain brew.
Zhù Ying had her people bring in the gifts — cloth, jewelry, sugar, salt, and the like. She knew only a rough outline of “Blade Brother’s” family situation: father and elder brother both dead, elder sister-in-law had remarried, at home there was a mother and a wife and young children, and the family’s population was not as large as the Asu old cave-master’s.
The gifts being presented, both women were delighted. The older woman said: “Spring flowers in bloom and last year’s finest wine — all prepared for you!”
Not to be outdone, the younger woman said: “The firewood is all stacked, and the young people have nothing to do this evening — just right for singing and dancing together.”
Both women spoke with a distinct air of competing with each other. Zhù Ying appeared not to notice, responding to both with “Very good, very good.” “Blade Brother” said: “First let us see the guest settled in!”
They invited Zhù Ying to take lodging with them, and arranged a small building for her — Zhù Ying in the upper rooms, with a few lower rooms nearby for her escort. The courtyard had a well and a tree.
From the upper floor, more than half of the stronghold was visible. Zhù Ying could already see that some households had begun hanging white lanterns. Mountain people had been influenced by lowland customs, and lowland people had also been influenced by those of the mountains — some elements of their funerary customs had also taken on traces of lowland practice. The use of black and white, for instance.
The escort members were all young and quick-handed, and Senior Sister Hu — the only woman among them — was more nimble and capable than any of the men. Because she was a woman, Zhù Ying, fearing she might not be comfortable, had specifically arranged for her to be lodged close to her own small building. Senior Sister Hu said: “I’ll keep watch downstairs through the night. A felt mat will do.”
Zhù Ying said: “That won’t do — the damp is heavy, and sleeping on the ground is easy to fall ill. Before you sleep, have them help you move a bed down to the lower floor.”
The Asu family members who had come along were lodged in the building next door. “Blade Brother” spoke to them in a fairly curt tone, though without any actual cursing. He merely said: “Don’t wander around. If you wander and someone takes offense at you, I won’t be responsible.”
Su Deng, equally without great courtesy, replied: “Your people went to our stronghold, and our county magistrate made sure each and every one of them walked out in one piece.”
“Blade Brother” said: “That’s because my people didn’t bring trouble on themselves!”
The two argued back and forth. Then the main house erupted in noise again — it started with mutual shouting, and then there came the sound of thumping and banging. “Blade Brother” hurriedly excused himself.
Su Deng came to see Zhù Ying, intending to have a quiet word, but found that Zhù Ying was watching from her upper-floor window with great interest.
“Blade Brother’s” mother and wife were fighting — each leading a faction, swinging whatever came to hand inside the house!
Chou Wen stood by her side as well, his face contorted with embarrassment and annoyance. He said: “That’s how this family is. The eldest died and the second son became head chief. The eldest son’s wife was a fine match, but then the second son’s wife and the mother can’t get along.”
Zhù Ying watched with keen interest, and as she listened to Chou Wen, suddenly asked: “The matriarch — she’s not a Liji woman, is she?”
Su Deng said: “I know this one. She’s from the Huapa, same tribe as our family’s old matriarch, but a different branch.” The Huapa people were not as fierce as the Qixia or Liji, and lived deeper in the mountains further away. Only the strong could hold the frontline positions closest to the lowlands — those who couldn’t hold their own were pushed further back into the mountains. “Blade Brother’s” wife, however, was Liji — just not from the Talang branch.
So from a people who were less powerful and at a disadvantage came the mother — which nicely compensated for the slight weakness that background carried. And from a powerful, dominant people of the same tribe came the wife — which meant one couldn’t be too openly at odds with the mother.
Chou Wen said: “Her life has also been hard. Her eldest son died, and the eldest daughter-in-law had been much to her liking.”
Zhù Ying said: “The younger son was never intended to be the heir.” So his younger daughter-in-law had probably been chosen without such exacting standards, and the mother’s approval or disapproval had been a face-saving matter, since eventually they’d split the household anyway. Fate had other plans, and the two women found themselves stuck with each other.
Zhù Ying could only follow about half the shouting. She said to Chou Wen: “Can you follow the Huapa language?”
Chou Wen said: “A little.”
Zhù Ying nodded. She had thought as much — the people fighting below probably had a similar partial comprehension of each other’s speech. She caught the daughter-in-law’s retort clearly: “You didn’t like me — so why did you have your son come asking for my father’s hand.” Zhù Ying made a guess at what the mother-in-law’s line had been and filed it away in memory.
She would need to study more dialects when she returned, Zhù Ying thought.
She had Chou Wen translate for her. Chou Wen omitted some of the cruder language and gave a brief summary of the gist. The mother-in-law’s trump card: “My son was born of me.” The daughter-in-law’s trump card: “He’s not of your tribe.”
The two women had probably fought like this every day. “Blade Brother” handled it with practiced ease — charging in to the middle, at which point the servants and slaves dared not continue, and both women turned their attention to him, both demanding that he settle it.
Zhù Ying now had a fairly clear picture of where those marks on his body had come from. It appeared no single person deserved the full credit.
After a while longer, “Blade Brother” had acquired a few more strikes to the chest. His other ear had also been seized and twisted. The two women each held their chin high and marched back inside to wash and dress themselves for the evening banquet. Zhù Ying, meanwhile, kept Chou Wen and Su Deng there and told them: “Come, answer a few questions for me.”
She took out a notebook with space remaining in the middle, opened it, and wrote “Huapa” on the left-hand page and wrote out on the right-hand page a set of phrases: “greetings,” “forms of address,” “good weather today,” and similar expressions. Then she had the two of them translate the right-hand page into the Huapa language.
Huapa also had no written script, so she used phonetic notation. There was time enough — she would start by learning a little.
By the time she had filled both sides of six pages, the lamps were being lit. Zhù Ying looked over the notebook with satisfaction: “Both of you go and get ready. A’Deng, don’t drink too much tonight. There is proper business tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
That evening, “Blade Brother’s” family of three appeared just as any ordinary family would. He also had two young children — the older one appeared to be three or four years old, the younger not yet walking. They were brought out at dinnertime. Zhù Ying gave each of them a small golden lock, and to the older child an additional small box. The child glanced at his father, saw his father nod, took it, and could not resist opening it on the spot.
It was a box of candy shaped into various forms. This had been inspired by Master Tang’s molds. She had ordered molds for Master Tang, so the sugar was no longer limited to simple squares. Round, square, large, small — in the shapes of flowers, household objects, small animals — whatever the syrup could be cooled and molded into could be made.
The head chief’s children ate candy regularly, but a new shape was still novel enough that the child hadn’t yet thought to compare.
Zhù Ying popped a piece into her own mouth, and he mimicked her, saying indistinctly: “Candy.”
Zhù Ying patted his head: “All of these are yours now.”
The child took the box off to one side, found it novel and amusing, and was reluctant to start eating it.
“Blade Brother” and the others made no further attempts to press wine upon Zhù Ying. Food came in a continuous stream — nothing like the stories of “mountain people being poor.”
The two women, who had been in such turmoil inside the house, both competed to speak with Zhù Ying in front of her, though they did not quarrel with each other in her presence. Zhù Ying chatted with both of them, asking the young woman which family she came from, and saying to the older woman: “There are also Huapa people in the prefecture city. I’ve met them before. He said the road there is long — I’ve been meaning to go and see for myself.”
The older woman then spoke of the scenery of her home tribe: “If the Prefect were to go, it would be a very long journey! The water there is sweeter, the wine finer, the girls more beautiful.”
Zhù Ying said: “From what I’ve seen of their embroidery, it is very good. The cloth itself is also interesting — somewhat narrower than what I usually see.”
The older woman became animated: “We weave with the back-strap loom.”
The young woman said: “Back-strap looms are fairly common, aren’t they? My mother’s family has one too.”
Zhù Ying chatted with them until deep into the night — from weaving to clothing, from clothing to styles, then to jewelry and ornaments. She heard the older woman mention: “The patterns they bring back from across the river are quite a bit better than what they have in Southern Prefecture.” She was immediately intrigued and asked where these came from. The young woman said: “Crossing the river, of course!”
The reason the Liji tribe had more contact with Southern Prefecture was largely because to their north lay a wide river with swift, turbulent currents. Crossing it was extremely difficult — time-consuming, laborious, expensive in boats and personnel, and if anything went wrong, people and goods alike went to the water spirits. Beyond the river, the flat land was shallow and didn’t extend far before giving way to high mountain cliffs. The overland route on this side was far more convenient for trade than crossing a river. Even so, a small trickle of goods did pass through. Especially further to the west, where the distance from places like Southern Prefecture was even greater — making it worth the risk of crossing the river and traversing the mountains. What came by this route were mostly small items.
Zhù Ying then talked with them about styles and patterns.
“Blade Brother” could not find an opening to get a word in. He watched, surprised, as she managed to get the two women chatting warmly together without any fighting breaking out between them.
Then without warning, he heard Zhù Ying say: “It’s wrong of him. What kind of man leaves his wife and mother to bicker and squabble while he runs away? It’s his house, not something the women are responsible for by themselves. He is the one who can make the decisions. He cannot keep hiding from trouble and passing the burden to others.”
“Blade Brother” thought to himself: Are you even a man? If I don’t leave, whose side am I supposed to take?
The two women felt they had found a kindred spirit, and both spoke ill of “Blade Brother.” Zhù Ying said: “The head of a household should make clear to everyone which things he will not yield on by even a step, which things he cares little about, and how much he can provide for everyone — rather than letting the people in the household compete and quarrel for it. A day, two days; a year, two years — as long as he is fair and reasonable, the people in his household will come to understand how he operates, and the quarreling will diminish.”
The women both felt deeply understood, and had it not been for the other people present, they might have poured out all their grievances to her.
That evening, both host and guests departed in excellent spirits.
…
The next morning, Zhù Ying rose early and called on Su Deng, then had Chou Wen go and find “Blade Brother.”
In “Blade Brother’s” household, the slaves had been up and busy since well before dawn, and the whole family had risen early on account of the guests.
Breakfast was the family’s hospitality, and as lavish as ever. Zhù Ying dropped a couple of pieces of candy into the small child’s porridge bowl and then spoke with “Blade Brother” about the matter of recovering the remains.
“Blade Brother” said: “Whatever I promise, I will not go back on.”
The atmosphere in the Talang stronghold was somewhat heavy that morning. Though the revelry of last night had subsided, families still receiving their loved ones’ remains continued to grieve. Discovering that one’s own kin were being returned was cause for gladness; hearing that the other side was to take their heads away produced resentment. The two emotions, entangled together, left people adrift and unable to find their footing. Silence had fallen.
Zhù Ying found this fairly satisfactory — that they were not being surrounded and berated was already a great deal.
They went outside the stronghold. Zhù Ying set up a sacrifice table again, as before — a simple ceremony before letting Su Deng and the others begin collecting. Since no specific numbers had been discussed at the time, only a general understanding that an exchange was to happen, and neither side attached great importance to the remaining bones, both had agreed without reservation. There was no problem of ratios and proportions as there had been when Zhù Ying negotiated the slave exchange with the Asu family.
So Zhù Ying had Su Deng first pick out those belonging to their own side, then collect the remainder — unclaimed bones — and bag or box them.
“Blade Brother” said: “Doesn’t the Prefect find this too much trouble?”
Zhù Ying said: “They will also want to go home. You will come to understand this eventually — the court does take this matter seriously. Collecting the remains of those who died violent deaths.”
“Blade Brother” said coldly: “You say so. Other people are not like you.” From the moment they had made contact, he had found nothing to seriously fault in Zhù Ying’s conduct. He continued to maintain his wariness toward the other lowland officials.
“Wolf Brother” said: “I’ll stand guard here — I won’t let anyone come to cause trouble. Cave-master and Prefect, please return to the stronghold and rest.”
“Blade Brother” changed his expression at once: “Prefect, please.”
Zhù Ying gave a nod: “Very well.”
The two returned to the main house. The women were nowhere to be seen. “Blade Brother” invited Zhù Ying to sit solemnly beside the fire pit, and he had many things he wished to say. He had originally intended to speak at that encampment in the lowlands, but now that Zhù Ying had come all this way, he wanted to have a thorough conversation.
“Blade Brother” opened first.
“They are holding a funeral. I have thought about bringing them home, but not by this method. I hadn’t expected the Prefect to propose it.” He said what his method would have been — Zhù Ying could already guess. Fight his way over, beat the other side into submission, retrieve his own people, and take a few of the other side’s heads in the process.
Zhù Ying said: “I ran into this opportunity and took it. The matter I originally intended to raise was a different one.”
“Blade Brother” took the opening to ask: “What was the Prefect referring to?”
“Law,” Zhù Ying said. “The matter of criminals. Good people can be found everywhere, and bad people too. A person’s character is not determined by where they come from or which family they belong to. If in the future someone breaks the law and runs — what is to be done? This time, a lowland criminal fled into the mountains. What if next time it is a mountain person who commits a crime and flees to the lowlands? We need an agreement. What do you think?”
“Blade Brother” said: “Like the Prefect’s agreement with the Asu family?”
Zhù Ying said: “At the time I made the agreement with the Asu family, things were still early, and not everything had been clearly worked out — I came to understand more only afterward. There are differences between your family’s situation and theirs. We can discuss how to frame the agreement.”
Criminal acts — if they involved serious matters such as murder or unpaid debts — both sides would be obligated to capture fugitives who fled into each other’s territory rather than provide shelter. As for living human sacrifice as practiced in the mountains, that was illegal in the lowlands, and Zhù Ying could not hand those people back. She needed to make this clear to him.
“Blade Brother” frowned and first asked: “What is the difference?”
Zhù Ying said: “She is already a court-appointed official. You are not. She presented a map to the court, the court gave her an official position, she still governs her original territory and her original people, and the position will pass to her child…”
Gu Tong had already explained all of this to “Wolf Brother,” who had relayed it to “Blade Brother.” “Blade Brother” had been thinking it over all night, and though he could have interrupted, he chose not to, letting Zhù Ying lay it all out for him again.
After a long silence, he said: “She is considered one of your own people now? I am not? Will you help her in the future?”
Zhù Ying said: “It depends on what ‘help’ means. I dislike you fighting each other. As long as you don’t impede me, I prefer that you coexist peacefully. I’ll give you a way to talk things out without drawing blades. Right now, neither of you can trust the official authorities, and you can’t even speak easily with each other. As long as I am here, I will also work to establish an agreement between you and the Asu family — mutual non-harboring of criminals. How does that sound?”
“Blade Brother” sat up straighter. This interested him considerably: “Could that work?”
“Of course.”
“Blade Brother” hesitated a moment. His wife suddenly came in from outside with a bright smile: “What are you two talking about? Did you agree that we will also become officials?”
She asked directly. Zhù Ying looked at “Blade Brother.” “Blade Brother” said: “Go out. I can speak for myself!”
The young woman gave a light huff and said to Zhù Ying: “Prefect was right — he really is like this, can never just say things plainly!” And then she swept back out with great energy.
“Blade Brother” cleared his throat: “She… speaks quickly.”
Zhù Ying said: “Saying what’s on your mind is a good quality. What does your heart say about what she mentioned?”
“Blade Brother” said: “I want the same as the Asu family. Wolf came back and said the Prefect’s student had told him many things. The Prefect would not have let him know so much without a reason.”
Zhù Ying said: “Living human sacrifice — that will not be permitted.” She made a gesture and went on to explain: sacrifice she would respect, and could convey this to the court. Living human sacrifice — no. Lowland people placed great weight on human life. Even servants could not be killed casually. Living human sacrifice was illegal. The authorities were bound to intervene when they encountered it. There was no possibility of supporting it.
Zhù Ying knew that if it were merely a matter of “ethnic customs” involving a tribe’s own people, the court might not necessarily intervene.
But she did not like it.
Zhù Ying laid out a substitute plan. The ceremony could be performed in full — the offerings simply could not be living people. She even drafted a kind of script for “Blade Brother” — a “foxes cry in the night, fish leap from the river” type of stratagem. So long as it was done in the name of divine revelation, claiming the deity was displeased and wished to be honored differently — changing from head-offerings to other methods — all of it was possible.
“Blade Brother” said: “This practice of sacrifice is not just between me and the Asu family.”
Zhù Ying said: “They will change it too. I am willing to collect unclaimed remains and provide burial — for everyone, alike.”
“Blade Brother” said: “I have many grievances against your officials, and I want revenge, but I can no longer find the person responsible. For the sake of my people, I find myself forced to take this step. My ancestors once trusted officials, and they were burned to death. Along with many others.”
“The one who did that was wrong,” Zhù Ying said without hesitation, accepting responsibility on behalf of the past. “I will never betray a friend.”
“Blade Brother” nodded: “I am willing to take this step, and I am willing to trust the Prefect. But what can the official authorities give me?”
Zhù Ying said: “Continuity. An imperial appointment is something you can see and hold in front of you right now, and I don’t need to promise you that in particular. If you trust me, I will help you continue on.”
“Blade Brother” then asked further. Among his people, there were plenty who could endure hardship, but farming and the like was completely unfamiliar to them. Furthermore, there was the matter of slaves — he was unwilling to simply let his slaves go free, and neither were the members of his tribe who held slaves. This matter was far harder than returning remains or abolishing living human sacrifice.
Zhù Ying said: “Do you know what order is?”
“?”
Zhù Ying thought of her long conversations with Wang Yunhe over the years and sighed: “What we have been talking about today is all at the surface — like flowers and grass on top of the ground, while the roots run deep in the soil. Slaves, criminals, imperial appointments — all of it comes down to order. With order, continuity is possible. Otherwise you are simply competing to see who can be more devious. That is no good.”
She tapped the side of her own head.
“Blade Brother” listened very attentively.
Zhù Ying laid out the logic of order for him. “Blade Brother” said: “Now that I have learned all this, do I still need the official authorities?”
Zhù Ying said: “You would become part of the official authorities. Do you want to join?” She had not spoken to him of the world and the realm at large, as she had to Su Mingluan. Nor had she lectured “Blade Brother” at length on the classics and historical moral principles — there was no use in that. For “Blade Brother,” simply reaching the point where he would “not kill slaves arbitrarily” and “abolish living human sacrifice” was already remarkable enough for the present.
The future could be addressed in the future.
“Blade Brother” said: “Yes! I am willing!”
He rose from his seat and bowed deeply to Zhù Ying: “I am willing to entrust my stronghold to the Prefect, and ask the Prefect to deal with us fairly.”
Zhù Ying helped him up: “You will only be under loose suzerainty — I will not interfere in your stronghold’s internal affairs. You simply need to keep your agreements. I can also preside over the agreement between you and the Asu family. If in the future the official authorities should betray you, you may disregard the official authorities. Once you receive an imperial appointment, you may submit memorials to the court yourself to argue your case. If the court will not listen, you may also disregard the court.”
“Blade Brother” nodded: “Good. What must I do?”
Zhù Ying smiled: “A memorial. I can write it for you, or you may have a literate person in your stronghold write it. A map — I also need to know certain things about the Liji tribe and the Talang family, so I can petition the court on your behalf.”
“A map?”
Zhù Ying sighed: “A map without any indication of how high the mountains are is, well…” Back when dealing with the Asu family, there had been someone to explain it all in detail, which helped. The mountains of the Liji territory were not only steeper, but there was no one to give her a thorough briefing. She would have to ask Chou Wen in detail when she returned!
The Talang stronghold turned out to have not a single person capable of composing a formal memorial. This task would have to fall to Zhù Ying, though “Blade Brother” enlisted “Wolf Brother” to explain the details of their situation to her.
“Blade Brother” was not entirely unprepared. He said: “I hear we also need to come up with a name.” His family and the Asu family were both among the “Liao people” who held the gateway positions and could be counted among the most capable fighters in the area. He had always set himself as a benchmark against the Asu family.
In former times, the Talang family had been stronger than the Asu family. Two generations of Talang leaders with capable minds had forced the Asu cave-master to pass the position to his clever daughter in hopes of checking their power. Seeing the Asu family’s development, he had conceived the idea of a temporary accommodation with the lowlands. No matter how difficult — it had to be done. Otherwise, two other forces might unite to wipe him out, and by then it would be too late.
Since this was his plan, he had done some preparation. He had observed Zhù Ying over a long period, and finding her trustworthy, her methods not brutal, and her manner toward people tolerant and generous, he had finally initiated contact.
Zhù Ying said: “Would you like to choose your own name, or have the court assign one? Any particular requirements?”
“Blade Brother” shook his head: “I don’t trust others. Let the Prefect think of one.”
Zhù Ying discussed and agreed with him on a tribal name, choosing the character “Meng” — formidable. “Blade Brother’s” name in the memorial also required a surname. His family was called the Talang family, so he took the surname “Lang.” “Blade Brother’s” personal name was also given by Zhù Ying: Kunwu — the name of a famous legendary blade. The characters were somewhat complex to write, but it didn’t matter — “Blade Brother” would not need to write it himself. Knowing it was the name of a renowned weapon was enough.
Lang Kunwu listened to her explanation and said: “The name the Prefect has given me is a good one. Unlike them — in the past, those lowlanders used to give us names that were not good. We were angry and it did no good. They thought we didn’t know, but we did know. It was to make us feel bad, to tell us we were less than them, beneath them. They called us ‘Liao people’ and recognized none of our intelligence and none of our courage. It was like me giving a slave a name like ‘dog’ or ‘straw sandal’ or ‘broken bowl.’ The Prefect does not look down on me. I do not harbor hatred toward the Prefect in my heart.”
Zhù Ying said: “Spending time together, one comes to understand. Once the court’s appointment comes down, we are one family. Whether in the trading markets or otherwise, all of it can be slowly arranged in time. You also need to keep the agreements you have made with me. I do not like living human sacrifice. And what I have promised you, I will also carry out. If there is something I am not able to fulfill or not able to see to, you may tell me. And if I find that you have failed to carry out what you promised, I will ask you for an explanation.”
Lang Kunwu said: “Good! We of the Talang family — when we give our word, it holds.”
He had “Wolf Brother” summoned, then also called Chou Wen over and said: “I know you bear resentment toward me. But you are still a Talang person. The things you have hated — I will change them. I hope you still remember where you come from.”
Chou Wen said: “What do you intend?”
Lang Kunwu said: “You are the cleverest person in the stronghold, and you also know the lowland script. The Prefect needs to write a memorial for them, and there are things he needs to ask you about. Please remember that you are still a Talang person, and help the Prefect write their memorial.”
Chou Wen was taken aback: “You actually—?”
Lang Kunwu nodded.
Chou Wen thought for a moment and said reluctantly: “Very well.”
Lang Kunwu then entrusted Chou Wen to Zhù Ying, and also pointed to “Wolf Brother”: “Prefect — for anything that needs conveying, you may use the two of them to send word up the mountain.”
Zhù Ying said: “It’s settled.”
Lang Kunwu set up a ceremony. This time without living sacrifices — using a sheep as the offering — and made his covenant with Zhù Ying. After the remains were fully collected, Zhù Ying departed with Su Deng, “Wolf Brother,” Chou Wen, and the others down the mountain.
Lang Kunwu had prepared many gifts for her. Zhù Ying accepted only some of them and set the rest aside: “If all goes as hoped, I will have these gifts of yours sent to the capital.”
Lang Kunwu had never encountered a lowland official so thoughtful and considerate. He fell silent for a moment and said: “Thank you, Prefect.”
Zhù Ying brought people and belongings alike down the mountain. By this time, more than half a month had passed, and in the lowlands they had been waiting eagerly for her return. They had only known she had gone to Asu County — a destination everyone was comfortable with. When she came back down from the Talang tribe’s territory, they realized something was amiss — Zhù Ying was already back.
Writing the memorial was well-trodden ground for her. She first had Chou Wen write a draft — she didn’t need him to worry about format, just write down everything he knew, and she would organize it at the end. She herself also needed to write her own memorial, part of which would depend on what Chou Wen wrote. She started on the other part first — requesting the establishment of a county and an imperial appointment, as had been done for the Asu family.
Beyond this, the memorial also described how there were many tribes in this region, and how her willingness to establish several more loose-suzerainty counties on behalf of the court would serve as a border buffer and protection. The borders of Southern Prefecture were now far more secure and peaceful than before. She then wrote separate personal letters to familiar contacts such as Wang Yunhe and Zheng Xi, hinting with the phrase “half of ninety li is half the journey” — implying they should not have her transferred away prematurely.