The Suffering Ministers of the Three Kingdoms
"Haa. Done."
Having finished the day's work, I stretched my arms high overhead. No one else was left inside the research hall. Zhuge Liang and Huang Yueying were away on official business and would be gone for some time, and Po Yuan was on leave at my own insistence. Thanks to that, I was savoring a rare stretch of solitude. After living so long pressed up against other people every waking hour, having time alone like this felt quiet and surprisingly pleasant. I decided I ought to make a habit of it.
I was just thinking of brewing a leisurely cup of tea, tidying up, and heading home when the door to the research hall opened and someone stepped inside.
"Who is it? Oh? Master Gan?"
"Is Seyoung in there? It's me. May I come in?"
"What brings you all the way out here?"
"What do you think? I heard you were working here, so I thought I'd drop by."
Gan Yong made light of it, but something felt off. He seemed to have come knowing full well I was alone.
"Enough of that. What is it this time? Don't tell me you ran up another tab at a pleasure house and can't pay."
"Ahem! What do you take me for? It isn't a pleasure house this time!"
"Then what is it this time?"
"Gambling…"
Haa…. Apparently he'd gotten excited about being in Chengdu and gone on a spree.
"No! You did this last time, and now you're doing it again? Does my father even know you behave like this?"
"Well, I haven't told him yet…. If you could just help me out this once…"
"It isn't just once—you keep doing this! How am I supposed to keep bailing you out?"
"Just one last time and I swear I'll never do it again…"
"This is the last time, then? Next time is absolutely out of the question."
I considered refusing, but Gan Yong had helped me in more ways than one, so I decided to cover for him just once more.
Just then the research hall door creaked open again and another shadow appeared. The figure walked in and spoke.
"Wow! There's all sorts of things in here! What's this?"
"Your Highness the Crown Prince. What brings you here…? Ah—that!"
The moment I saw what Liu Shan had casually picked up, a chill ran down my spine.
"That is a miniature repeating crossbow! It's dangerous—please be careful!"
Startled, I hurried over.
"Careful. You must be careful, Your Highness. That is a type of improved crossbow."
"Oh, yes, General. Hello. I heard the General was conducting research here, so I came to see."
At my urging, Liu Shan set the miniature repeating crossbow back down.
Then another person entered and greeted me.
"General. Good day to you."
The man who had come with Liu Shan was Ma Su.
"Master Ma Su? Weren't you supposed to be tutoring His Highness in his studies today?"
Ma Su scratched his head.
"Well, His Highness insisted he simply had to tour Jin Cheong's research hall, so I escorted him. Might we impose for a short while?"
"Yes…. You may look around, but there are dangerous items here, so please take the utmost care."
"Of course. We'll only look briefly, then I'll take him back."
Liu Shan began examining the various projects under development, with Ma Su and Gan Yong trailing after him. Liu Shan launched a barrage of questions at a suit of armor still being refined, and Ma Su answered in his usual smooth, unbroken stream.
"Is this armor? Looking at all these iron plates laced together, it reminds me of fish scales. Why not make it from a single plate instead of linking so many? Doesn't that take far more work? There was already armor before—why go to all this trouble to make a new kind? And there are so many other things here besides armor. Are all of these for war?"
"As the Wuzi states, the fundamental requirements of warfare are the 'four lights,' the 'two heavies,' and the 'one light.' The four lights mean one must thoroughly understand the terrain and rigorously maintain horses, weapons, and armor. When the edges of arms are keen and armor is sturdy, one can raise the morale of the soldiers who fight…"
Liu Shan has grown some, hasn't he? Isn't he past the age of boundless curiosity by now?
While I was thinking that, yet another shadow slipped into the research hall.
"What? Master Po Yuan? What are you doing here? Aren't you still on leave?"
"Resting at home felt strangely awkward. More than that, the work simply would not leave my mind…"
Has he caught it from working with Zhuge Liang so long? The man always looks half-dead, and I finally forced him to take a vacation…
"But is that not His Highness the Crown Prince? Why has he come all the way here…"
Once I explained the situation, Po Yuan sat down heavily.
"Truthfully, there is nothing for you to do even if you stay. You really ought to go home and rest…"
"Ah. I see…. So while I was gone, the entire work list was cleared. It seems the Chancellor no longer has any need of me. What purpose is there in my coming here any longer…"
"…That isn't it. The Chancellor is away on business with Lady Yueying for a while, so there simply isn't more work at the moment. I've already handled most of the ordinary tasks myself."
While I was trying to soothe the sighing Po Yuan, yet another shadow slipped quietly inside.
"Meow!"
"Ah! Geumwang—when did you get in?"
Somehow the yellow cat had already begun prowling all over the research hall.
"Come here! You can't just wander around like that!"
"But what about this? Is this also an invention for the soldiers?"
"From what I can see, this appears to be for transporting military supplies, and for such-and-such reasons…"
"Your Highness, you must be careful with that. It's still under development—please don't touch it carelessly."
"Seyoung. This matter stays secret from your father."
"If you do this even one more time, I won't tell Father—I'll tell His Majesty!"
"Chancellor. Why did the Chancellor leave me behind and go on that trip? Am I so useless that I am only fit to idle at home…"
"No. It's because you're on leave, so just go home and rest!"
"Myaong! Myaong!"
"When did you climb up there?! You're not supposed to be up there—get down!"
Before I knew it, Gan Yong, Liu Shan, Ma Su, Po Yuan, and even Geumwang had all piled in, and the research hall had turned into a full-blown free-for-all. My plan for a quiet stretch of solitude dissolved like foam, and I was left sweating as I tried to keep them all under control.
Cao Hong.
A younger kinsman of Cao Cao and a military officer of Wei. He was not a general who had piled up dazzling battlefield achievements, but he was a relative of Cao Cao—and, more importantly, the man who had once saved Cao Cao's life. That history as a lifesaver had earned him the treatment due an elder of the imperial house.
Even after Cao Cao died and Cao Pi succeeded him, no one imagined that the respect shown to Cao Hong would change. In fact, under Cao Pi he was promoted as high as General of the Agile Cavalry—a post second only to Grand General, making him a true heavyweight of the military.
And yet who could have guessed that he would be found prostrate before the palace gates, mud smeared across his face, begging for forgiveness?
The substance of his weeping plea was this:
People could not bear to look at him; the sight was too mortifying. And to whom was he prostrating himself so abjectly?
None other than the Emperor of Wei, Cao Pi.
The full story was this.
In Cao Pi's younger days, he had once asked Cao Hong—then a man of great wealth—to lend him a hundred bolts of silk. Cao Hong, whose nature was miserly, had refused. Everyone assumed the matter had ended there and forgotten it. Everyone, that is, except one man.
Cao Pi had never forgotten. He had stored the slight deep in his heart. And only now had he chosen to settle the old score by seeking Cao Hong's execution.
People were stunned. No one had imagined Cao Pi would treat Cao Hong—his uncle in rank and a founding meritorious subject—in such a way, nor that he had nursed the grudge for so many years.
The high ministers of Wei rose to save Cao Hong's life. Even Cao Pi's own mother, Empress Bian, stepped forward to rebuke him.
"Had Cao Hong not saved the Martial Emperor, there would be no Cao Wei today—and no imperial throne for you."
In the end, Cao Pi agreed to spare Cao Hong's life. His life was saved, but fearing further repercussions, Cao Hong had prostrated himself before the palace gates in this fashion, smearing mud on his face to soothe the Emperor's temper.
That was the whole of the affair.
Everyone heaved a sigh of relief, but for Cao Pi the outcome was far from satisfying. Something still writhed inside him, and he needed something to quiet it.
A short while later, something occurred to him. An ominous smile touched the corners of his mouth, and he began to write. When he had finished two letters and dusted off his hands, that same unwholesome smile still lingered on his face. He summoned an attending official and gave his orders.
"You there. See that these writings are delivered to Sun Quan of Eastern Wu and to Zhang Zhao."
Zhang Zhao.
As befit the chancellor of Eastern Wu, Zhang Zhao was once again swimming through a mountain of documents. Thorough to match his blunt temperament, he allowed not the slightest negligence in his work.
He was deep in concentration on the great affairs of the state when a junior civil official who attended him approached and spoke.
"My lord, I have something to report."
"What is it? Did I not tell you not to interrupt me unless the matter is urgent?"
His concentration broken, Zhang Zhao set the bamboo slip he had been reading down on the desk with a sharp tap, somewhat displeased. There were more than one or two critical matters that needed handling at once. If this was nothing, he fully intended to give the man a dressing-down. But that resolve vanished the moment the official opened his mouth.
"Well…. The Emperor of Wei has sent a letter addressed to you, my lord."
"What? The Emperor of Wei? You mean the Emperor of Cao Wei?"
"Yes, my lord. It is said to be a letter written by the Emperor's own hand."
Zhang Zhao's thoughts stopped for the briefest instant. What? A letter written by the Emperor of Wei himself? To me?
Recovering at once with the composure of a seasoned minister, Zhang Zhao said, "Bring it here at once."
"Yes, my lord."
The official handed him the bamboo slip and withdrew. Zhang Zhao pushed the papers on his desk to one side and unrolled the letter said to have come from Cao Pi.
He was the emperor of an enemy state and not a man Zhang Zhao found particularly agreeable—but he was still the head of a nation.
If Cao Pi wrote this himself, it must concern some policy where the interests of both states meet, or something of equal importance.
Furrowing his brow deeply, Zhang Zhao read the bamboo slip with even greater concentration than before. Yet the further he read, the stranger his expression became.
The contents were as follows.
From childhood We memorized poetry and the discourses; growing up We traversed the Five Classics and the Four Categories in full, and of the Records of the Grand Historian, the Book of Han, and the words of the Hundred Schools of Thought, there is nothing We have not read…
What is this.
In short, it was a catalogue of the learning he had acquired and the experiences he had undergone—in other words, a letter of pure self-praise. The prose was excellent, but that was all.
Why write something like this? No—more to the point, why show something like this to me?
The further the letter went, the more absurd it became. Somewhere in the middle he had jotted down some random poem, and toward the end it even contained this:
At the age of eight We could already ride and shoot the bow, and whenever crisis arose We always accompanied the campaigns of conquest…
Zhang Zhao's face twisted.
Is this 'I am so accomplished, so praise me,' or what?
He read it through to the end, but there was not a single matter of political or diplomatic importance. He tossed the letter onto the desk with a dull thud. His head had begun to ache.
If it had been something related to politics or diplomacy, he could have found a solution or reached some conclusion—but this was a matter whose very intent was unknowable and for which no conclusion could be drawn. Time wasted, and the truly important work left undone….
Zhang Zhao did not know that Cao Pi, seized by a craving to have his own abilities recognized, had written and sent such a letter.
Just then—
"My lord…"
The same junior official came in again. Before the man could even finish speaking, Zhang Zhao slammed his palm down on the desk with a crack. He barely restrained himself from hurling the letter.
"I clearly told you not to enter unless the matter is important! What is it this time!"
The pitiful official forced his stiff mouth open.
"Well, His Majesty has opened a banquet and commands your immediate attendance…"
"…"
In place of the anger left by Cao Pi, a different emotion surged up.
Drinking again?
Sun Quan, who threw drinking parties nearly every day and forced wine on everyone, was thoroughly disagreeable—but when the king himself ordered attendance, one could hardly refuse.
"…Very well. I will prepare and go shortly…"
"Come! Drink up. This is a rare wine I have specially prepared—no cup must stand empty!"
Watching Sun Quan hold his cup high and bellow, Zhang Zhao shook his head slowly. Several ministers had already drunk nearly to their limits, yet the banquet showed no sign of ending.
Why hold such a sudden banquet at all, and why drink like that…
Zhang Zhao did not know this either: that Sun Quan, having received the exact same letter from Cao Pi and having had his mood thoroughly spoiled by it, had impulsively thrown this banquet.
For the exacting, short-tempered Zhang Zhao, the one small mercy was that Sun Quan did not press quite so much wine on him.
Sun Quan stepped into the center of the hall and spoke with a thickened tongue.
"Since we have opened such a merry drinking party today, we shall not stop drinking until we fall where we stand! Raise your cups."
Many of the ministers forced smiles and lifted their cups, while inwardly screaming for it to please, please end.
"Come! Then—a toast! Hm…?"
As he cheerfully prepared to drain his cup, something caught Sun Quan's eye and spoiled his mood.
Wu Fan and several other ministers were slumped over the tables, faces planted on the boards. They had simply been unable to withstand the excess of wine.
"What—while We stand here, our own subjects dare…"
Sun Quan grumbled, then jerked his chin at the servants behind him.
A moment later—
Splash!
"Puhk!"
"Ugh!"
Doused with water, the ministers jerked upright one after another in shock. Even the servants carrying the buckets wore expressions that asked why on earth they were doing this—but a king's command left no choice. They could only obey.
Just as the servants were about to douse Wu Fan as well, Zhang Zhao, who could endure no more, roared. His nerves were already raw from Cao Pi's letter, and now this….
"Your Majesty! Enough of this at last!"
At that shout, the servants who had been about to pour flinched and froze. Even Sun Quan, who did not lightly disregard this elder statesman, showed a flicker of hesitation.
"Lord Zhang Zhao. Is something amiss?"
Zhang Zhao heaved a deep inward sigh and reined in his temper. As if he doesn't know why he's asking.
"The night has grown late. Would it not be best to end the banquet now?"
At his words the other ministers held their breath and silently cheered him on. Please end it. Please….
Hmm. I'd still like to drink a bit more.
Sun Quan, for his part, glanced around in search of some excuse to keep drinking.
That was when he saw Wu Fan—cheek pressed to the tabletop, eyes half-open in a slit.
Their eyes met dead-on.
…!
Wu Fan had cracked his eyes open, hoping that with Zhang Zhao intervening the banquet might end here—only to be caught squarely by Sun Quan.
Of all times…!
Wu Fan hastily shut his eyes again and pretended to sleep. But the fact that his gaze had already locked with Sun Quan's once was irreversible.
"You dog, Wu Fan! How dare you pretend to sleep! Do you mean to slight Us!"
With a roar, Sun Quan seized a guard's sword and flew into a rage, swearing he would kill Wu Fan. Even Zhang Zhao was so dumbfounded that his mouth simply hung open; he could not even think to intervene.
Just as the sword was about to fall on the ashen-faced Wu Fan, one minister darted forward, seized Sun Quan around the waist, and desperately held him back. It was Grand Minister of Agriculture Liu Ji.
"Your Majesty! Compose yourself, Your Majesty!"
"Let go! I said let go! I will take that dog's head this instant!"
"Your Majesty! Please…"
A king thrashing with a sword raised over his head, and a subject struggling to restrain him. That night's banquet was truly a spectacle.
Only when Liu Ji finally managed to drag Sun Quan off did the chaotic banquet at last draw to a close.
The next day, having learned what had happened, Sun Quan said with some awkwardness:
"Ahem. When We are drunk, even if We order someone killed, you are not to kill them."
The ministers thought that, at least, was fortunate—that their king recognized his own fault. That Sun Quan did not, however, stop his drunken rages was another misfortune entirely.
The high ministers of the Three Kingdoms stood in positions all the world looked up to. And yet they, too, were human beings who suffered hardship—and their troubles were of this kind.