Diaochan (2)
I put a single question to Wang Yun.
"So this famed blade—am I to take it as a betrothal gift?"
"Haha! Think of it however you like!"
Wang Yun answered my question with a hearty laugh, and I pressed a little further, half-suspecting I already knew the answer.
"And what might this sword's name be?"
"Ah—it is called the Seven Star Sword."
"The Seven Star Sword..."
Just as I had suspected, the blade Wang Yun had gifted me was indeed the Seven Star Sword.
"If my memory serves, seven jewels set into it are said to depict a constellation."
A constellation, hm. The Big Dipper, perhaps? Truly, the world of artistry ran deep.
"If you knew how many barbarians I cut down with this very sword in my prime, it would astonish you!"
So saying, Wang Yun roared with laughter.
Had he begun his career as a military officer, only to transfer to a civil post partway through? That was its own kind of impressive, come to think of it.
After a moment's thought, I opened my mouth again.
"This gift—would it be acceptable if I did not wield it myself?"
To a question that could easily have struck him as rude, Wang Yun replied in a voice that brushed it off as nothing.
"The blade already belongs to the General-in-Chief. However you choose to use it is no concern of mine."
Then, abruptly, he burst into laughter once more.
"Though I would ask that you at least refrain from melting it down or selling it off!"
"...I hardly intend to, so set your mind at ease."
Even someone as oblivious as I was would never do such a thing.
There could be few weapons in this world finer than the Seven Star Sword. It sat at roughly the same level as the Peach Sisters' weapons, forged by that blacksmith of mysterious origins—at most, only Seo Yeo's Chu Heaven Sword and Lü Bu's Sky Piercer Halberd could hope to surpass it.
The real question was who to pass this sword to... and on that score, my mind was already made up.
"Diaochan. Take it."
"...?"
Puzzlement crossed her face at my words.
"Why would you not wield it yourself, and give the sword to me instead...?"
"Even if I tried to handle that blade, how far do you think I'd get?"
I shrugged, entirely unbothered.
It was undeniably a fine sword—the sort of thing you'd want on hand should some situation ever demand it. Even in the Romance of the Three Kingdoms games, the Seven Star Sword made regular appearances as a treasure that raised its wielder's Strength.
...But for a man whose Strength stat would struggle to reach fifty in the first place, carrying it meant absolutely nothing.
It was a pearl necklace hung around a pig's neck, plain and simple.
Just as Xiahou En, bearer of the Qinggang Sword, had lost his life to Zhao Yun back when she served under the likes of Liu Bei, if I so much as held the Seven Star Sword my head would leave my shoulders on the spot—and all I'd accomplish was dropping a legendary item for someone else to claim.
Honestly, against Zhao Yun, you had no choice but to accept your death with perfect calm, the way you would a natural disaster.
Hers was a caliber of warrior that even Lü Bu would find taxing, though Guan Yu or Zhang Fei could at least cross blades with her for a while.
"I hear you have been practicing the martial arts of late."
"Ah... you knew of that?"
Diaochan's reply came tinged with embarrassment.
"It is little more than a diversion. I would be ashamed to call it true training."
"For a mere diversion, you seemed remarkably diligent about it."
A scene from the past rose in my mind.
One night, for reasons I couldn't name, sleep refused to come, and as I wandered here and there through the house, I came upon Diaochan performing a sword dance in the courtyard. The sight of her tracing elegant forms against the backdrop of the moonlight was enough to steal the soul clean out of a man.
'...My lord, I could manage at least that much as well.'
'That would be even more terrifying, so don't.'
There had been a brief tug-of-war after that, but let's draw a veil over it.
Frankly, when the weapon in question was closer to a bludgeon than a blade, whirling it around at close range wasn't a sword dance—it was a public menace.
"It seems the General-in-Chief has seen straight through to my daughter's talents as well."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Even before entering your service, Diaochan could lay low an ordinary grown man without effort."
That much?
...Then wasn't she already stronger than me? Why did it feel like there wasn't a single soul in this entire household weaker than I was?
Having drifted into that strange reflection for a moment, I gathered myself and spoke to Diaochan.
"Then all the more reason this weapon belongs with you. Take it."
"G-General-in-Chief."
"Go on."
When I held out the hand bearing the Seven Star Sword, Diaochan's eyes wavered briefly.
I urged her along.
"At this rate my arm will drop clean off. What are you waiting for?"
"...Yes."
Receiving the Seven Star Sword, Diaochan spoke to me in a voice of quiet beauty.
"I shall not forget this kindness."
"Was this not your family's blade to begin with? There is no need to thank me."
I replied as though it were nothing at all—because, in truth, it was.
"I did not foresee this turn of events, but what a heartwarming sight it makes."
Wang Yun stroked his beard, plainly satisfied with how things had unfolded.
"Quite so. Diaochan—how would you like to take up that sword and dance for us?"
"Father...?"
The sudden proposal drew a flicker of surprise from her.
"It has been far too long since I last watched my daughter dance."
"But..."
"And what does the General-in-Chief think?"
Wang Yun, having caught Diaochan stealing glances my way, turned the question to me.
"I have nothing against it. It would liven up the evening nicely, wouldn't it?"
"As expected, you and I are of one mind!"
Wang Yun beamed with satisfaction.
"With the General's blessing granted, there is nothing left to hesitate over!"
"...I shall gladly comply."
With a single graceful bow, Diaochan drew the Seven Star Sword without delay and began to dance.
...
A peerless blade, and a beauty capable of toppling kingdoms. When those two elements wove together, a spectacle unfolded from which no eye could tear itself away.
"Your skill has grown even finer."
Her artistry had advanced by leaps and bounds since the nights she danced alone, and I murmured as much without much ceremony.
"I could do at least that much..."
"Didn't I tell you to stop that?"
...
If she went whirling that enormous sword of hers about, the mood would genuinely turn strange. Nearby objects toppling every which way, unable to withstand the wind pressure, would be the least of it.
I looked at Seo Yeo, who wore a strangely sullen expression, and let out a quiet chuckle.
Nothing of note happened after that.
As at the usual gatherings, we shared a modest amount of drink and conversation and whiled away the hours. When the night had grown properly dark, Wang Yun rose and offered me a parting bow.
"The hour has grown late indeed. Much as I regret it, I must take my leave."
"You are welcome to call again whenever it suits you."
"Haha! How could I ever commit so graceless a blunder!"
A graceless blunder?
When I showed my puzzlement at his words, Wang Yun murmured in a lowered voice.
"I am not a man so devoid of shame as to come barging, unannounced and uninvited, into the residence where my daughter and the General-in-Chief now reside."
I'm sorry—what?
I stared at Wang Yun, eyes widening despite myself.
"When a man and woman in the prime of their years catch one another's eye, are things not bound to happen, wherever they may and whenever they may?"
Hearing that, I could not hide my astonishment.
To think the day would come when that unbending old moralist would crack lewd jokes at me. Just as Xun Yu had said, the man had well and truly laid down every last burden of office.
"Leave the task of persuading Yizhen and Zigan—Huangfu Song and Lu Zhi—to me."
"...Are you quite certain?"
"I am already a man withdrawn from public life. Should I not be of some service to the General in at least this small way?"
Wang Yun laughed heartily and bowed to me once more.
"Though this old body failed, I believe that you, General-in-Chief, shall meet a different ending."
Wasn't that less Wang Yun's failing than the fault of Emperor Ling, who had shut his eyes and ears to everything and done only as he pleased?
But Wang Yun, whose loyalty ran bone-deep, could never bring himself to blame the Emperor.
"I beg of you: look after Her Majesty, and after this Han of ours."
At those terribly heavy words I held my silence for a moment, then slowly assembled a reply.
"...I will do my utmost."
"That answer sets my mind at ease."
Then, with a kindly smile, as though to sweep away the heavy air, Wang Yun added:
"Ah—and do not forget Diaochan."
...
"She has seen her duties through without fail since she was a child, so you need have no worries on that account, but..."
Hearing that somehow made me oddly anxious. She wasn't about to come barging into my room out of nowhere one of these nights... was she?
Even meeting my faintly uneasy gaze, Wang Yun merely smiled, perfectly composed.
And then, that night.
"My lord."
Diaochan slipped into my chamber dressed far more lightly than usual and bowed with perfect deference.
"Tonight, this humble concubine shall attend to you."
...
Why was it that only the premonitions I dreaded never once missed?
Faced with a sight that made the room tilt beneath me, I asked, just to be sure.
"...This 'attending to me'—it means what I think it means?"
"It does."
So Diaochan answered the question I had posed while sitting there in nothing but my sleepwear. Her voice was calm and even, yet the face she lifted to mine was faintly flushed.
...
Seo Yeo—who, in the time since our union, had apparently decided that distance was a formality she could dispense with, going so far as to set up housekeeping in my room—looked at me.
Her eyes asked, plain as speech, what I intended to do. I exhaled a long breath and said:
"If your heart is truly ready, then come here."
"...Yes."
Diaochan closed the distance between us, and Seo Yeo, having seen it with her own eyes, slipped soundlessly from the room once again.
If it felt, somehow, like she was fleeing the scene of the crime—was that only my imagination?