The Girl Named Jeong
Handan, the capital of Zhao, was one of the greatest cities in the world and an impregnable fortress. Only Xianyang, the capital of Qin, and Linzi, the capital of Qi, could stand alongside it. Even Linzi had fallen into decline after King Yan Shao nearly destroyed Qi, leaving Xianyang as the sole city truly equal to Handan. It was no wonder the people of Zhao who lived here carried such pride. This was a land no nation had ever dared to violate. Even the fearsome Qin army, known as the Tiger State, lowered its head before Handan’s walls. The people believed that Xianyang, a city ignorant of art and devoid of ritual, was merely large and crowded, while Handan stood unrivaled as the most magnificent city under heaven. And they were not entirely wrong.
Handan’s location made it a crossroads for the states of Qi, Wei, the lesser state of Wey, Han, and Qin. People and goods from every corner flowed into it—art, scholarship, commerce. If one could measure GDP by city in this era, Handan would surely top the list. Perhaps because of this unique status, its layout was remarkably distinctive. Handan was not a single square-walled city. Three separate walled districts arranged in the shape of the character 品 combined to form the capital: the Western City, the Eastern City, and the Northern City. The heart of Handan was the Western City. Roughly 1.3 kilometers east to west and 1.4 kilometers north to south, this square district contained the most orderly urban planning. Here stood the Dragon Terrace, the main palace where the king resided. Though palaces existed in the Eastern and Northern Cities as well, the king primarily lived in the bustling Western City, using the others only for occasional outings. Incidentally, the place where I currently resided was also within this Western City. Originally I had been housed in the Eastern City, but thanks to Lord Pingyuan I had been moved here.
The Eastern City was nearly as large. Measuring 0.9 kilometers east to west and 1.4 kilometers north to south, it was organized around two palaces—the Northern Command Terrace and the Southern Command Terrace—along a north-south axis. These palaces sat slightly to the west of the district’s center, because moving farther east meant the high walls blocked most sunlight. Consequently, property values dropped the farther east one went, and the eastern part of the Eastern City had deteriorated into a slum.
“Therefore, you must never go into the Eastern City. Do you understand?”
“I got it. I got it.”
Han Gyeong warned me repeatedly, but I had no intention of obeying. I did not plan to venture into the truly ruined eastern section, only as far as the area where we had once stayed. The child who had given me such a shocking memory and then vanished—the place I had met that child was in the Eastern City.
“Haa… In any case, please do not stray from Seok and Hyu.”
“I know how safe the Western City is. If anything happens, I’ll run straight to the guards.”
Han Gyeong straightened my clothes one last time. It was deep winter now; the weather had grown bitterly cold.
“You must take care of yourself. Even though Lord Pingyuan stands behind you, Lord Geonsin, who stands on the opposite side, will be watching for any chance to harm you.”
Taking someone’s side meant becoming an enemy of their rivals. Since I had aligned myself with Lord Pingyuan, Lord Geonsin would naturally find me disagreeable. Though he was the one who threw the first punch. Even if I had done nothing, Lord Geonsin would have been my enemy. Moreover, once the King of Zhao formally acknowledged me at Lord Pingyuan’s urging, it was already too late for Lord Geonsin to act. A hostage was not automatically subjected to contempt and persecution. A hostage was fundamentally collateral guaranteeing mutual agreements or non-aggression pacts. If one side unilaterally broke its word, the hostage could indeed be discarded or even killed. But when that did not occur, it was customary to treat the hostage according to their station. I was the sole legitimate son of the King of Yan, a royal whose succession as crown prince and future king was all but certain. A proper hostage life would not be marked by shabby treatment.
Until now the King of Zhao had deliberately pressured me, but he has stopped. Lord Geonsin might wield great influence, yet he could never defy the king’s decision. Furthermore, as I had argued to Lord Pingyuan, a well-raised hostage could easily become a friendly power for one’s own state. It was not uncommon for hostages to receive titles and hold office in the country where they were held. Still, there were limits. If I tried to leave Handan, I would be crushed for overstepping my bounds. What I wanted now was merely to wander inside Handan. The king had readily granted permission, perhaps hoping the splendor of Handan would impress me.
Leaving Han Gyeong’s worries behind, I finally set out on my tour of Handan. The neatly divided city blocks and well-maintained avenues, the towering pavilions rising alongside the Dragon Terrace—they all displayed the refined elegance of ancient Eastern architecture. It felt as though I had come abroad on holiday. Well, I supposed it was technically abroad. I was a man of Yan, after all. Chuckling at my own silly joke, I wandered through Handan. The atmosphere reminded me of a historical drama set or a folk village. I spent a long while sampling street food and impulsively buying whatever caught my eye at the stalls.
Eventually I reached the eastern gate of the Western City, which was also the western gate of the Eastern City.
“Young master, let us return now,” Seok said. Hyu nodded in agreement.
“We have already spent quite some time here. If we leave now, we will arrive at a reasonable hour.”
“Hmm…”
I had to admit I had gotten carried away and spent far too much time visiting one place after another. Still, one could not expect to see everything in a single day. I would save the rest for next time. Swallowing my disappointment, I turned back.
After that, I went out once a week. Han Gyeong, who had fretted endlessly at first, eventually stopped making a fuss once the outings exceeded five. The discipline of the attendants who accompanied me as guards also slackened, but I did not scold them. Instead, I took advantage of their lowered vigilance to slip into the Eastern City.
“Another wasted trip, it seems.”
Recently my outings had focused less on sightseeing and more on finding one particular person. Yet Handan was no small city; it was enormous, with a considerable population. It was like searching for a needle in a haystack.
“Young master, it seems we are out of time.”
“Right. Let’s head back… huh?”
As I turned for one last look, a small head that had been peeking out from a corner of the street vanished. Though the figure had covered their head with cloth, I had clearly seen those golden eyes. The moment I recognized them, my body moved on its own.
“Young master!”
The girl instinctively hid the instant their eyes met. She did not even know why herself. It was purely unconscious. No, the reason did not matter. It was him. The glimpse she had caught last time had not been a mistake. Unlike the ragged appearance from before, he now looked every inch a noble young master, yet his handsome face remained the same. Why had he crossed into the Western City only to return here? Simple nostalgia for his old residence? Or perhaps…
“How foolish.”
The girl buried her face between her knees, ashamed of her own stupid thoughts. Curled up with her arms wrapped around her legs, she hid in the shadow of the wall and scolded herself for harboring vain hopes. She knew, even at seven years old, that expectations only led to pain and sorrow for her alone.
Though a year had passed, spring had not yet arrived. The last chill of late winter seeped through the tears in her clothes. Her small body trembled and shrank further when, suddenly, the wind stopped.
“Ah…?”
“Aren’t you cold?”
The boy draped the fur coat he had been wearing over her and smiled gently. Standing in the alley like a wall to block the wind, he let the warmth still clinging to the garment flow into her. As the girl stared at him in a daze, he spoke again.
“We’ve met before, haven’t we? Mind if I sit beside you?”
Without the slightest concern for soiling his fine silk robes with dust, the boy plopped down right next to her. The girl opened her mouth at his unhesitating approach.
“You… do you know who I am?”
“Hm?”
The boy smiled awkwardly at the way she spoke, as though knowing her identity would have stopped him.
“Do I really need to?”
“You’re helping me without even knowing who I am…?”
“If I want to help, I just help.”
Of course. That was how it would be. If the boy knew who she was, he would keep his distance like everyone else. He would never have approached her like this. This kindness was nothing more than curiosity born of ignorance. The girl’s sharp mind calmly reached that objective conclusion. Yet she did not dislike it.
“How foolish.”
Even if this kindness stemmed from ignorance, she did not want to reject it. No matter how clever or mature she was, she was still only a seven-year-old child.
“Maybe so? Then just tell me. Will you?”
“…No.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t want to say.”
If he knew, he would leave too—just like when he had gone to Lord Pingyuan and left the Eastern City. He would never want to live the miserable life of a hostage. Seeing the girl press her lips firmly shut, the boy did not press further. Instead, he changed the subject slightly.
“Then how about just your name?”
“My name?”
“Yeah. I’m Dan. Written like this.”
The boy traced a character in the dirt with his finger. 丹. Dan—the name of the boy, Ji Dan.
“And you?”
Just a name would be fine, wouldn’t it? Names were common enough. Knowing only a name would not reveal her identity. Even though deeper thought would show that age, appearance, and name together could easily expose her, the girl’s usual sharpness was clouded by the kindness before her eyes. Her slender fingers, far too delicate for a child, touched the ground. Five strokes. A combination of simple, clean straight lines.
“Jeong.”
正. That was the girl’s name.