Burial Mounds
“General! General! The whole city is in such an uproar—what on earth is going on? Is there a feast being prepared?”
Liu Shan asked me this as he watched the laborers bustling about, hauling materials and constructing something. His eyes shone bright with eager anticipation. However—
“...It’s not a feast. It’s a memorial service. We’re preparing a ceremony to honor those who fell in the recent war.”
“Ahh...”
The burial mounds and monuments that Liu Bei had ordered built before departing for Chengdu were nearly complete, and preparations for the memorial rites for the war dead were now underway.
And on a rather grand scale at that. The recent campaign for Jingzhou had been even fiercer than the struggle for Hanzhong, and the casualties had been considerable.
That was why Liu Bei had instructed us in advance to hold a splendid memorial service, to soothe the hearts of the people.
“Your Highness the Crown Prince. Might it not be fitting for you to inspect the preparations for a moment? You will be attending the ceremony itself, after all, and it would be proper to show yourself among those making ready.”
“Indeed, Your Highness. If the son of His Majesty the King of Hanzhong were to go in person and encourage those at work, the entire populace would praise his benevolence.”
I seized the moment to coax Liu Shan, and Gan Yong, standing beside me, chimed in support.
“Ahh...”
Liu Shan’s face showed little enthusiasm. Fair enough—preparing a memorial was hardly entertaining, and he was still of an age for play. I could hardly blame him.
Yet a man who would one day succeed Liu Bei needed to show interest in such important rites. Just as I was about to press him further, another figure slipped in with practiced speed.
“There is no need for His Highness the Crown Prince to trouble himself with mere preparations when the day of the ceremony itself has not yet arrived.”
It was Huang Hao. At the sound of that familiar, honeyed voice, Liu Shan’s expression brightened a little.
That little snake is trying to lure him again...
“Rather than that, Your Highness—I have arranged a boat outing near the Han River. Have you not often spoken of wishing for one? What do you say? When the amusement is over, the dishes Your Highness favors will be waiting. A fine vessel, lovely scenery, and excellent food—how does that sound?”
“Oh. Hmm. Maybe I should?”
Just as Liu Shan was about to yield, I stepped in once more.
“Your Highness. I am not saying you must not play. Only that you look upon the hardships of those preparing the memorial and offer them a word of encouragement. This ceremony is for those who gave their lives for the realm, and His Majesty the King of Hanzhong has commanded that special care be taken with it. If Your Highness personally soothes the people’s grief and toil, wiping away their tears, every subject will exalt that grace. I beg you to consider why His Majesty left Your Highness here.”
At my renewed persuasion, Liu Shan turned back toward me.
“Mmm. You taught me to reach out a hand to those in need, General. If I go, will it truly help them?”
“Of course, Your Highness. I will not tell you to forgo play. Only that before you go amuse yourself, you give a little thought to something more meaningful—it will spread not only Your Highness’s virtue but His Majesty’s as well.”
“Then... I’ll take part for a little while.”
“Yes. A wise decision. An excellent resolve!”
So the lessons of these past months had not been wasted after all.
A flicker of displeasure crossed Huang Hao’s face, but Liu Shan never noticed. He followed Gan Yong and me to the site where the memorial was being prepared.
He offered kind words and encouragement to the laborers; when the work was done for the day, wine and meat were distributed in the Crown Prince’s name.
“Long live His Highness the Crown Prince!”
“Thank you, Your Highness!”
Gan Yong and I bore most of the cost, but Liu Shan’s reputation among the people rose accordingly. Seeing their joy put him in good spirits as well. Huang Hao, for his part, sulked with his lips stuck out.
When the day’s duties ended and the sun went down, Gan Yong and I sat as usual in the official residence, sipping tea and talking.
“Looking after the Crown Prince must be hard work for you too—watching over His Highness while keeping that Huang Hao fellow in check. I still don’t understand why you fuss so much over a mere eunuch.”
“Could you not call me a nursemaid, at least? Mentor, guardian, tutor—any of those would do.”
“What does it matter? Keep playing nursemaid so well and His Majesty the King of Hanzhong will be delighted.”
“Ugh...”
Whether the mouthful of tea I nearly spat reminded him of something or not, Gan Yong only chuckled again.
“Raising a person is never easy. Do you remember yourself as a child? That tiny little girl trailing after Sukji—Jin Do—crying, ‘Father, Father, please teach me martial arts!’ I still can’t forget the look of utter bewilderment on his face.”
“Hmm, well... I don’t really remember.”
“Don’t remember, my foot. Still, it must feel a bit deflating for you. Not long ago you were matching blades with fierce warriors like Cao Zhang and Ding Feng, and now you’re sparring with a single eunuch.”
“At least you understand how I feel, Master Gan. Even I never imagined things would come to this.”
Gan Yong’s boyish mischief, so at odds with his years, often made me sigh—yet he also had a knack for reading my heart. That was why I often talked with him like this. He was the sort of friend who knew exactly where to scratch an itch.
Just when I thought I could finally breathe after the Jingzhou campaign, I found myself locked in a contest of wills with Huang Hao over Liu Shan. Of all the bizarre love triangles in the world, this had to be the strangest.
“Still, once the memorial is over we should be able to catch our breath.”
“True. That memorial. Thanks to you, even I ended up spending money.”
He grumbled a little about having been talked into splitting the cost of the wine and meat we had given the laborers.
“It was all for the people’s hearts. And if His Majesty learns that Master Gan contributed, won’t he be pleased?”
“Your tongue grows sharper by the day.”
“Perhaps from dealing with so many talkative people in a row. Still, no harm in it.”
“Thanks to that, His Highness the Crown Prince even contributed some of his own purse. It’s a fine thing that he thinks of the people—but did you perhaps aim for that all along?”
“Hmm, who can say?”
Gan Yong seemed to have seen through me again, but I simply played dumb.
“Didn’t you say you’d already given away nearly all the rewards you received not long ago? How do you intend to live? Sukji often shared his wealth with the common folk, but you go even further.”
“I keep enough for my own needs. And if I ever go hungry, won’t Master Gan help me? You wouldn’t just stand by and watch me starve, would you?”
This time Gan Yong clutched his head.
“Ugh. At this rate you’ll be fleecing your future husband’s salary and scattering that too. Whether you’ll even marry is another matter...”
“Oh. I have no thoughts of marriage yet, but that’s an intriguing notion. I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Aigoo. I should have kept my mouth shut. Whoever the poor fellow turns out to be—my condolences in advance.”
When my eyes lit up, Gan Yong let out a long-suffering groan.
Trading banter like that, we finished preparing the memorial, and before long the day itself arrived.
The day of the memorial service.
Crowds gathered like clouds.
Key figures of Jingzhou—Xu Shu, Ma Liang, Pan Jun, and others—were present, yet the eyes of the common people fixed upon only two.
Liu Shan, eldest son of Liu Bei, King of Hanzhong.
And Jin Cheong, the one and only female general.
“That’s His Highness the Crown Prince, isn’t it?”
“Yes, that’s him. Still young, but he looks clever enough.”
“And the one beside him—General Jin Cheong? ...Oh my heavens...”
“Is that a fairy come down from heaven? I’d only heard the stories, but her beauty... They say she’s a fierce warrior who sweeps across battlefields, yet she doesn’t look it at all.”
“No—once she takes the field she’s a tiger, they say. And I heard she serves as tutor to His Highness as well. A talent of both brush and sword, isn’t she?”
“I also heard that His Highness and General Jin Cheong freely gave of their own wealth for the people’s sake.”
“True. With the two of them watching over us, we can rest easy.”
Such was the power of those two that merely appearing before the people captured their hearts.
A short while later, representing those assembled, Jin Cheong stepped forward and began to recite a memorial poem.
As the peerless beauty read the verses in a calm, lovely voice—mourning the fallen and comforting the living—the atmosphere grew naturally solemn.
Some gazed at her as if entranced; others quietly wiped their eyes.
Thus the memorial service, so long in preparation, unfolded under the gaze of many and dried the tears of the wounded.
And so the ceremony ended, leaving a lingering resonance in countless hearts.
Though the memorial was over, daily life resumed much as before.
Teaching Liu Shan, watching Huang Hao, caring for the people, drilling the troops.
Whether from our efforts or not, Liu Shan was growing rather good at resisting Huang Hao’s blandishments.
And perhaps because Zhang Fei occasionally fixed him with those ogre-like eyes, Huang Hao had become quite subdued of late.
Just when it seemed this steady routine might continue indefinitely, an envoy from Liu Bei arrived. The command that fell to me was this:
Cao Mengde has died. I desire that you go to Wei in my place and serve as condolence envoy. He may have been the sovereign of an enemy state, yet proper courtesy must still be observed, must it not?