Yu Chong (2)
What Yu Chong had drawn from within his breastplate was, at a single glance, an opulent wine bottle practically radiating nobility.
No, seriously — he isn't even Zhang Fei. Who goes around with a wine bottle stashed against their chest?
"You remember the promise you made with me, don't you? This is confiscated."
"Ah, aah! My lord! Go easy on me! Please!"
"No."
Though the Zhang Fei in question was, at this very moment, having her liquor confiscated on account of her pregnancy.
"Guan Yu. Enforce it."
"…As you command."
"Gah! E-even Sister Yunchang?! Eegyaaak—!"
Zhang Fei, who had been clinging to my leg and pleading for all she was worth, was subdued by Guan Yu with almost insulting ease.
"So this is where you'd hidden it, hm?"
"H-how did you even know to look there?!"
"Hmm… wouldn't you like to know~?"
Every last bottle of liquor secretly stashed in the corners of the residence had been tracked down and disposed of by Liu Bei.
"Noooo! You can't—!!"
That agonized cry — the kind only someone robbed of something truly precious can produce — remained vivid in my memory even now. It told me everything I needed to know about just how desperately Zhang Fei loved her drink.
But what could I do? A pregnant woman mustn't touch alcohol, if not for her own sake, then for the baby's.
I only learned this afterward, but apparently Zhang Fei had quit drinking the moment the signs of pregnancy appeared — before I'd even returned from the Nanman campaign. The power of a mother's love truly was something else. Even so, I didn't regret forcing that promise on her for the sake of a safe delivery. Let her off with "just one sip," and before I knew it the whole drinking party would be in full swing again.
"Come now! Straight down the hatch — all in one go! Gulp it!"
And so Yu Chong kept filling my cup in the banquet hall that had been thrown open in the blink of an eye. I was never much of a drinker, but the wine he had brought was more than enough to seize even my attention at a single glance.
A bottle made of glass, of all things… One look was enough to tell it was wine from that far-off land of Rome. Where on earth had he gotten his hands on something so precious? Even among the trade goods that arrived by ship from the west, it was a rarity that surfaced only once in a great while.
After all, merchants skilled enough to sail from the distant west all the way to China were exceedingly few. The overland routes, for their part, were riddled with problems of every kind, and merchants were tearing their hair out over them. The Xiliang route — better known as the Silk Road — sat firmly beneath the backside of those damned Xiongnu, while the trade route from Yi Province into India was a tangled ordeal thanks to the Himalayas. Impossible as none of them were, merchants the world over were still striving their utmost, even today, to trade with foreign lands. Buddhism had entered China in the first place through trade with India, after all.
"Ah — yes. Then I won't refuse…"
Dazed, I accepted the cup and swallowed down the wine Yu Chong had poured me.
…It's good. This really is top-shelf stuff.
A wine's shelf life, I'd heard, varied wildly depending on the variety and how it was stored. Even the shortest-lived kept a good year, and with proper care the notion of an expiration date all but vanished. You know how it is — like when they introduce some luxury vintage, "a thirty-year wine from Paris, France," and so on. Granted, wine demanded just the right temperature and humidity, but no merchant selling at premium prices would dream of neglecting his own goods. And there were, apparently, grape varieties grown solely for winemaking, besides. Ancient or modern, people took their booze seriously.
"Now that's hearty drinking! I like it — I like it very much!"
Yu Chong threw his head back and laughed at the sight of me drinking.
Thump!
"And look — here's another bottle! Tonight we drink grand and see if it kills us!"
No, seriously, why is that coming out of his breastplate again? What is that thing, a pocket dimension?
Of everyone I knew, Yu Chong might well be the only man who hauled his liquor around on his person like that. …Come to think of it, was that why his armor had looked so heavy?
Watching Yu Chong produce expensive wine as casually as breathing, I opened my mouth.
"One bottle is quite enough for me, so you may put the rest away."
"Knowing not to overindulge, no matter how fine the wine! Why, I like that about you as well!"
"…"
Observing that reaction, I concluded that Prince Yu Chong was quite the singular character himself. He was evidently no man to press drink upon another; without ceremony, Yu Chong tucked the bottle away and struck up conversation once more.
"Ahem! The mood seems right, so allow me to ask a question or two."
"A question, you say?"
It didn't sound like anything so grave as before — what could he want to ask? I gave a calm nod.
"Of course. So long as it's nothing I'd have trouble answering, I don't mind."
"Nothing of the sort, so rest easy."
Yu Chong edged a little closer and asked, careful and hesitant.
"Well… is it true, then? This talk of you and Her Majesty the Emperor being… involved?"
"…"
"The stories even say you held a grand festival to seal the match — though this world has never met a rumor it didn't spread."
Hearing him out, I could see exactly how things had come to this. As the saying goes, words without feet travel a thousand li — groundless rumors have a way of swelling as they race from mouth to mouth.
Hadn't even Yuan Shu stooped to shadowy schemes, seeding the realm with malicious gossip about me? The man had even forged an imperial proclamation to muster a coalition army, so I could hardly blame Yu Chong for being slow to trust whatever rumors drifted across the land.
Put kindly, he was upright as a ramrod, unmoved by the words of others; put unkindly, he was a hidebound man who believed nothing he hadn't seen with his own two eyes. Suddenly I understood why Yu Chong had once been so noncommittal toward me.
In a peaceful land with a strong central government, no one would have been swayed by such gossip — but the Han's authority had already been half-ruined by the demented tag team of Emperor Ling and the Ten Attendants, and when Dong Zhuo seized the court and drove in the finishing blow, the whole edifice came crashing down. The karma of corrupt officials truly ran deep.
To Yu Chong, whose face was still clouded with doubt, I gave a steady nod.
"Yes. Unworthy as I am, I have been formally wedded to Her Majesty."
"…Then that would make you both Grand General and Gukseo."
Gukseo — the official title for the husband of a reigning queen. Strange; it felt like ages since I'd last heard the word. The people around me called me Grand General, or by name and courtesy name — Jeong Reung, Hwahyeon — so the chance to hear it never really arose. Not that I minded; the other titles sat far more comfortably on my tongue anyway.
It wasn't wrong, so I acknowledged his question in an even voice.
"Yes. That's right."
At my answer, Yu Chong held his silence for a moment, then cleared his throat with an awkward air.
"Ah— ahem."
He fidgeted, cold sweat beading on his brow. …What's this? His whole manner had changed in an instant.
Then Yu Chong spoke.
"I beg you to forgive the discourtesy I have shown you until this day."
"…Your Highness?"
The abrupt switch to formal address left me momentarily flustered. With an embarrassed smile, Yu Chong continued.
"Imperial kin though I may be, I hold but a vassal king's title — and one cannot speak carelessly to the man who has wed Her Majesty."
"…"
"To do so might be seen as diminishing the dignity of the imperial house."
I had no reply to give him. So this was the political finesse of a man who had sat a vassal king's throne for over a decade. I truly had much to learn.
"Then allow me to move on to my next question."
His manner toward me transformed, Yu Chong pressed on.
"Might I ask your thoughts on the bow and the crossbow?"
"The bow and… the crossbow, you say?"
I tilted my head yet again. Straight from marriage to archery — what a turn. The term needed no deciphering; it meant exactly what it said — bows and crossbows.
Wearing a dazed expression, I picked the answer I figured Yu Chong most wanted to hear.
"Er… isn't it an essential discipline for any man who would command troops?"
"Just as I thought! You do know a thing or two!"
So that was the right answer.
Yu Chong — famed in the original history for his mastery of the bow — laughed heartily, plainly delighted with my reply.
"When the chance arises, we must go hunting together sometime!"
"Ah, of course. Should Her Majesty ever take me hunting with her, I shall be sure not to forget to extend you an invitation."
And when that day came, how exactly was I supposed to hide my abysmal archery?
…I'd blame the white deer. Followed the wretched thing around all day — just wasn't my day, that sort of excuse.
I couldn't rely on the blessing of my ancestors alone. We'd been born in different lands, after all, and in this life we were of an age — but even so.
Contrary to my worries, Yu Chong proved a remarkably affable man, and conversation with him came easily. We drank together, traded stories, and quietly deepened our rapport. A flawless itinerary, without a single fault to find — or so it seemed.
Right up until then, I'd been feeling quietly pleased with myself, thinking how smoothly everything was going.
"Assassin! There's an assassin!"
"Don't kill him — take him alive! We need to know who's behind this!"
…At least, that was true until the following day, when the whole building erupted into an uproar.
"Wh-what did you say?! Gaeyang — that scoundrel did what?!"
Yu Chong all but collapsed at the news that the attendant he had brought along was the source of the entire commotion.
Watching the soldiers in heavy armor sprint off at speed, I thought to myself:
Well. This is a fine mess.