Chapter Two: Chang the Licentiate Is Banished to the Border on Account of His Ancestral Registry; Madam Du Follows Her Husband Beyond the Frontier

A lyric:

Disaster strikes without cause or warning — why will fate not let one be?

A husband and wife, good and true, seized as garrison soldiers, one after another,

driven through distant dunes of sand and dust,

urged on in carts where no rest or ease may be had.

Never mind the bloom of a fair face —

even youth itself, freely given, must be bent and broken.

To the tune of "Willow-Tip Green"

It is told that when Chang Quan saw the constables would not allow him inside to change his clothes, he felt a secret dread steal over his heart — yet searching his conscience he could find no fault, and so had no choice but to go with the constables to the county yamen. One of them had already gone ahead to inform the magistrate. Shortly after, the magistrate took his seat on the bench, and the constables brought Chang Quan before him, announcing: "The fugitive conscript Chang Quan has been apprehended and brought to appear before Your Honour, awaiting your order to cancel the warrant."

Chang Quan suddenly heard these words and was startled. Just as he was composing himself to make his obeisance, the magistrate spoke: "You need not bother with that formality. This county has received an explicit directive from the Board of War to locate and detain fugitive conscripts and escort them to the frontier garrison. Your name appears in the register, which makes you a fugitive conscript — not a licentiate. Return home at once and make your preparations; this county shall assign permanent escorts to convey you forthwith." Chang Quan was so frightened that his face turned the colour of ash. He could only drop to his knees and say: "My grandfather passed down a family tradition of poetry and rites, and I myself have had the undeserved honour of wearing the scholar's blue collar, long blessed by your paternal benevolence. Even if the ancestral line was originally of military registry, so many years and generations have passed — the living and the dead have come and gone. I beg your paternal grace to take pity on this humble student's scholarly lineage. I cannot bear a soldier's hardships. I entreat your cultivation and care; your beneficence to this student would be boundless."

Having spoken, he bowed his head to the floor. Magistrate Ding said: "Although this comes from the Board of War, it carries out an imperial edict. Who would dare disobey? Even if this county wished to intervene, the name and entry in the register match exactly — there is no means of reversal. Do not speak of you being a mere licentiate; even men of powerful official families, if their names appear in the register, are treated the same as common military registrants and escorted away alike. There is no use in arguing. It cannot be avoided." He then ordered the original constables to escort Chang Quan home and convey him together with his military wife. The constables escorted Chang Quan out of the yamen gate.

At this time, Du Shi had watched her husband enter the yamen with the constables, and she thought: "If the magistrate's summons was a kind gesture, why was there no calling card? And why did the constables refuse to let him turn back? Something is amiss." She called out to the household servant Chang Jian to go to the yamen and enquire. Chang Jian saw the state of his master and came racing back to inform the mistress of the house: "This is terrible! The master has been convicted and sentenced to military exile!"

Du Shi heard this and refused to believe it. In great anger she said: "You wretched servant, what nonsense! The master has committed no offence — why do you make such a fuss and babble such wild things?"

Seeing that his mistress would not believe him, Chang Jian burst into loud weeping: "Madam! It is truly bad news! The magistrate has received an imperial edict to hunt down fugitive conscripts. He says that our ancestors were originally of military registry, and that madam herself is counted as a military wife. The constables are escorting the master home even now, and they are to depart immediately!" Du Shi heard that it was true, and was so frightened that her soul seemed to fly from her body. She wept aloud: "What misfortune has befallen our family — this sudden, monstrous calamity! How has it come to this in a single day?" As she wept, she suddenly heard her husband returning home with the constables. Heedless of all propriety, Du Shi ran out at once into the main hall. When Chang Quan saw Du Shi, he stumbled forward, tears streaming down his face like a spring. He said: "My name was in the ancestral register and I must be sent to serve as a soldier. But alas — I have implicated my worthy wife, who cannot be spared either!" At that, the two wept together in great grief.

Chang Gu stood to one side, and seeing his parents weeping with such heartbreak, he too broke into loud sobs. The neighbours, hearing the sudden sound of crying from the house, all came to enquire, and only then learned that it was a matter of military registry — that the family was to be escorted to the frontier to serve as garrison soldiers. Everyone said: "Master Chang is a scholar of letters, and madam has never been accustomed to going out — how can they manage such a journey?" Yet they also saw that an imperial order demanded it and that there was no escaping it, so they all urged together: "There is no use in weeping now. Let us think about practical preparations instead." The constables also pressed them to depart at once. Chang Quan begged them repeatedly to grant a few days' delay. The constables shouted: "You had best know which way the wind blows. This is an imperial order for escorting military convicts — it is nothing like a routine summons by a school inspector. Who would dare delay even a moment? If you don't come to your senses, we will lay hands on you." And they took out a rope and moved to loop it around Chang Quan's neck.

The neighbours quickly intervened and calmed them down: "Brothers, do not be so hasty — let us speak reasonably and slowly." Seeing that someone was mediating, the constables relented: "There is nothing to discuss. We must depart at once and that is that." An elderly neighbour named Wang Aiquan spoke up: "Even in the corridors of power there is room for charity. Master Chang has committed no offence of his own — he suffers only because of an ancestral entry in the military register. Since he must already leave his home and wander far away, at least give him time to arrange provisions for the road, so he can depart properly. And you two have come all this way on official business — that too ought to be properly acknowledged." The constables said: "The old gentleman speaks with reason. We have been on our feet since early morning, and not so much as a cup of tea has passed our lips. Surely you don't expect us to wait here on an empty stomach!" Wang Aiquan said: "How pitiable they are — the whole family is weeping so bitterly the sky seems to have gone dark. Who is there to attend to you gentlemen? Please be seated; we neighbours will arrange something for you."

All the neighbours pitched in together, and before long wine and food were spread. The constables were sent off to eat. Chang Quan, his wife, and their son wept in a huddle together — what did they know of hunger or fullness? Zhang the elder woman and Li the younger aunt managed to coax them into eating a little. Wang Aiquan said to Chang Quan: "The yamen's deadline is tight. If you wish to send someone to petition for an extension, you must first see to the constables, so they don't sow confusion with careless words." Chang Quan replied: "At this moment my heart is in utter turmoil — I have no plan, no direction. I can only beg the elder to manage everything on my behalf; I shall comply with whatever you decide." Wang Aiquan said: "When constables see silver, the cat and the mouse sleep side by side." He took charge and had Chang Quan gather eight taels of silver, which were divided into two packets, each labelled on the outside as five taels, and slipped into the sleeves.

The constables had just finished eating and said: "We've eaten our fill — have the two of them come out, and we'll go to the yamen to formally receive the escort documents." Wang Aiquan smiled broadly and said: "Yamen affairs — one does not hide things from below, only from above. We still ask you two to grant Master Chang three to five days' grace; that would show the greatness of your magnanimity." One of the constables leapt up at once and cried: "This is an imperial military convict! I might be willing to show him leniency, but I fear our superiors would not show leniency to us two." He grabbed the rope and started towards the inner hall. Wang Aiquan hurried forward with a smile to block him: "Elder brother, do not be hasty — I have more to say." And he reached into his sleeve, drew out the two packets of silver, and placed them on the table.

The constables saw the silver and saw the five-tael markings on each packet, and fell silent. One of them then asked: "Old Father Wang, what is your meaning?" Wang Aiquan replied: "I would not dare trouble you with anything else. I only ask that you two put in a word of convenience at the yamen so that Master Chang may have a few days to arrange his provisions for the road. When the time comes to escort him, it will naturally be you two who do so — we shall depend entirely upon your care along the way, and there will be further tokens of gratitude. These two packets, for now, please accept as tea money." The constable broke into smiles: "Old Father Wang, you mustn't blame my brother here for his impatience. When it comes to imperial orders, if there is any delay the officers above make things difficult and the magistrate himself gives us grief. If we follow only the yamen's own inclination, people say we are heartless. That is why the life of a constable is so hard. Seeing Master Chang in such a plight, I too feel my heart ache…"

He turned to the other constable: "Brother, come here! For Old Father Wang's sake, let us do this. Whatever the consequences, we shall take the risk and speak up on his behalf — and if the yamen will not agree, we will think of something then. This is Master Chang's gift for wine. Be straightforward and receive it; he will feel more at ease." And he passed one packet into the other's hand. Wang Aiquan, seeing the man could not very well take it himself, tucked the other packet into the constable's own sleeve and said: "We rely entirely upon you two in all matters." Both constables smiled broadly: "Many thanks. We shall go back and report to the yamen and return to give you news." And the constables went out.

Before long, relatives and friends who had heard of this great calamity at the Chang household all came to call. Shortly after, Zhu Tianjue and Duan Ju also arrived. Everyone discussed the idea of presenting a public petition to keep Chang Quan. Chang Quan said: "This disaster is the burden left by my ancestors. Now that an imperial edict has also been issued, how dare anyone defy it? Though all of you show compassion, there is truly nothing that can be done." Everyone considered carefully and saw there was indeed no help for it. They offered what consolation they could and then took their leave.

Chang Quan held back tears and said to Duan Ju and Zhu Tianjue: "We three shared the same study window and, not thinking me unworthy, you bound our children together in engagement. I had hoped for a long and lasting bond between our families, but little did I expect to fall into this great calamity of distant exile. It is likely we shall have no chance to meet again in this life, and what may come of life and death is uncertain. When I think it all through carefully, this engagement must come to nothing. It would be better to return the betrothal gifts today so that your daughter may choose a distinguished family, and you, my elder brother, may still have the hope of a son-in-law to support you in your later years."

He choked as he spoke and could say no more. Duan Ju replied: "How can my elder brother say such a thing! Since ancient times, once a betrothal is pledged with a single word, it holds through life and death alike. Moreover, you and I have long cultivated a bond of righteousness and moral principle — it shall not waver and shall not change. How could I follow the example of those who break such bonds? The betrothal gifts you bestowed, even if they were worth a thousand taels of gold, I would never be moved to return them. As for your journey, it may not mean that you are confined to a foreign land forever. Should heaven be merciful — and an emperor's heart is beyond all reckoning — he may take pity on the suffering of his people and grant a return to your homeland; that too is possible. Besides, your son is still young, but already possesses such talent and gifts — he is surely no creature of the shallows. Perhaps one day he will make his fortune and be reunited with my daughter. That too may well come to pass. My elder brother should set his heart at rest and go."

Zhu Tianjue said: "At such a moment, Elder Brother Chang cannot help but consider beginning and end alike — that is the mark of a cautious gentleman. Elder Brother Duan's steadfastness, firm as metal and stone, shows the depth of true friendship. As for my own view: today Elder Brother Chang sets out on a journey of ten thousand leagues across mountains and passes, over difficult and dangerous roads. If you bring your son along, there will inevitably be the extra burden of looking after him. Since your two families are already joined in betrothal, why not leave the boy with Elder Brother Duan to raise him to adulthood? In a future day he might prove as devoted a filial child as Tiying of old — that would not be amiss. It would also allow Elder Brother Chang to depart with a lighter heart." Duan Ju replied: "Worthy Elder Brother's reasoning seems perfectly sound, yet in my view there is still one thing that is utterly unsuitable."

Zhu Tianjue asked: "How do you know it is unsuitable?" Duan Ju replied: "Elder Brother Chang and his honoured wife have only this one child of their blood. Travelling so far from home, with no kin in sight, the child's presence will ease their loneliness. When he grows a little older, he will be able to shoulder burdens and share in hardships. But if they were to leave him behind at the very outset of their journey, and then find themselves in a lonely roadside inn at some desolate frontier outpost — in a moment of quiet grief, when they long to look upon their child but the heavens stretch too vast between parent and son, and the mother yearns for her dear child — they would regret it too late. In this moment, though Elder Brother Chang may bear it with the detachment of one who has seen through worldly affairs, without betraying the attachment of a parent, his honoured wife's love and longing for the child — turning it over and over in an anxious heart — and then finding no way to see him, how could one be certain it would not bring on illness and worse? There are things yet I have not fully said."

Chang Quan listened and was deeply moved: "Elder Brother Duan has foreseen all this with such care — this humble couple is beyond grateful." Then he said: "My greatest worry now is that our travel funds will be insufficient. What is to be done?" He said: "Let me draw up a list of the house and its furnishings, and ask you two to find buyers for them at once."

Past noon, the constables returned and said: "We spent no small effort smoothing things over — the magistrate has agreed to a three-day delay before the escort departs. Make your preparations quickly and do not be late." The constables left. Zhu and Duan bade their farewells and went their separate ways to find buyers for the property. Chang Quan sorted through his affairs at home and then said to the household servant Chang Jian: "You have served my family for two generations and I have done nothing good for you. Now I am leaving for a distant place, and the household will be reduced to nothing. There will be no place for you to stay. After I am gone, go and do as you please for yourself — you need not remain in service to others."

When Chang Jian heard this, he wept and prostrated himself on the ground: "Since childhood I have been raised and looked after by the master, though I have never once given the full measure of a dog's or a horse's service in return. Now I wish above all to follow and attend you on the road, yet I fear the travel funds will not stretch far enough. I can only endure today's parting and dare not go with you. But the graves of your late father are here — if one day there is no one to sweep and make offerings, it is a grief I cannot bear. Once the master has gone far away, I could perhaps take up a lodging near the graves, so that the spring and autumn ceremonies shall not be neglected. That would be my small repayment of gratitude. And should heaven one day look with favour upon the young master, and he prospers and returns to claim his ancestral home, I can serve as his guide, so he need not lose his way." Having said this, he wept loudly.

Chang Quan also shed tears and said: "So you hold such reverence in your heart, such filial devotion — that you would do this for me. Then you are truly part of the Chang family's posterity. I will leave five mu of fields and the three small rooms on the eastern side for you to live in. You need not give up the family name — from now on I shall address you as a brother."

When he had finished speaking, he bowed low to Chang Jian and said: "Offer sacrifices on my behalf at the graves — I shall not forget this kindness." Chang Jian prostrated himself in return, and Chang Quan helped him up with one hand. He then transferred the eastern rooms to Chang Jian's use, and gave over all the household goods and furnishings that could not be sold. He also assigned five mu of fields to Chang Jian's name. The next day, Zhu Tianjue and Duan Ju came with the proceeds: altogether a little over a hundred taels of silver, which Chang Quan accepted. On the third day, the constables arrived to press them on. Chang Quan went with the constables to the yamen, received the escort documents in open court, and returned home. Together with Du Shi and their son, the family set out. They said their farewells to friends, relatives, and neighbours alike.

Zhu Tianjue and Duan Ju escorted them all the way to Zhenjiang. There they gave earnest instructions to the constables on Chang Quan's behalf. Duan Ju produced five taels of silver and presented them to the constables, saying: "As Master Chang travels onward, we entreat you two honourable officers to look after him along the way — we are boundlessly grateful." Zhu Tianjue also offered two taels for wine money, and the constables gave their ready assurances. The two friends wished to escort them further, all the way to Huai'an, but Chang Quan repeatedly urged them to turn back: "Even if you see a friend off for a thousand li, there must come a moment of parting. Walking along together like this only makes my heart more unsettled." Left with no choice, the two friends broke into tearful weeping. Chang Quan had Du Shi and his son bow in farewell to them both. Chang Jian could not bear to part and wished to escort them yet further, but Chang Quan pressed him hard to go back: "The sooner you return, the more at ease I shall feel." The three of them had no choice but to part with streaming tears, each wishing the others well on the road ahead. Indeed:

How pitiable is parting — when friends must let go of each other's hands.

Such steadfast friendship as this — that is true and worthy of the name.

To leave one's homeland as if crossing a thousand thousand li —

and beneath the low white clouds, there still lingers a thread of home.

Chang Jian wept aloud once more, and then bowed his farewell to Chang Quan, Du Shi, and Chang Gu, and turned back — of this no more need be said. Now it is told that Chang Quan with his wife and son, accompanied by the two permanent escorts — one named Wang Long and one named Zhao Hu — were all in the same boat, and got on well enough together. Du Shi lodged with her son in the rear cabin. Though she was unaccustomed to being away from home, the boat journey was still relatively comfortable. Besides, they had only just set out, and her heart clung entirely to thoughts of home, with tears falling from time to time. The many inconveniences of the road had not yet fully made themselves felt.

Then one day they passed Qingjiang Pu and then Huangjia Ying. The boatman stowed the long rudder and said: "I have brought you as far as I was engaged to go. The road ahead is all overland. Master, you should go ashore and hire a cart or a pack animal. Tomorrow my boat must head back." Hearing this, Chang Quan could only go ashore with the constables and ask at an inn about hiring. He arranged one cart and three animals. He went back to the boat and told Du Shi, and they moved all their luggage and belongings to the inn. Du Shi took her son by the hand, walked into the inn, and paid the boatman to depart. They rested at the inn and prepared to rise early and press on the following day.

The next morning, Du Shi, knowing nothing of what was ahead and having no choice, took her son in her arms and climbed onto the cart, settling herself as best she could. The carter set the cart rumbling along, which gave Du Shi such a fright that she could not stop swaying from side to side. She had to mind herself and mind her son at the same time, terrified of tumbling out. She could only say: "Elder brother, please go slowly." The carter said: "Madam, this is the overland road — it is not like the waterway, where one can stop anywhere. We must make it to the next lodging by nightfall. On the first day's journey, the road must be covered within the allotted time. There are many dangerous people along this stretch — if we arrive too late, there are all manner of risks to face. This is no trifling matter."

Du Shi heard this and had no choice but to grip her son tightly with both hands and let the carter push on. Chang Quan went with the constables, sometimes ahead and sometimes behind. After several li, at first the road had been level muddy ground, but now they had come upon a stretch of high ridges. Boulders and rocks lay strewn about, jutting up and dipping down, and the carter pushed the cart jolting and lurching over them. Du Shi on the cart was already dizzy and her vision had gone dim; now her nerves and courage were giving way. Clouds of yellow dust blew full into her face, and Du Shi could only weep silently to herself. Think of it: she had spent all her days at home — though she had no slave-girls to call and command, no painted halls and lofty chambers, she had lived in a household of culture and rites, neither honoured nor disgraced, passing her days in quiet peace. Now she was brought to this — how could she not shed tears and cry out in grief?

Chang Gu sat in her arms. At first he had still tried to comfort his mother, but by this point even he had grown restless and weary from sitting so long on the cart. Seeing his mother weeping without cease, he too began to cry. Du Shi, afraid that weeping would harm him, found herself instead soothing and coaxing him repeatedly. The carter, seeing the mother and son in such a state, asked the cause, and Du Shi had to recount the whole matter. The carter was moved to great sorrow: "Madam comes from a respectable family, grew up in the south, unaccustomed to going out — how can you bear the hardships of our northern roads?" And the carter slowed to a gentler pace. Indeed:

Frontier garrison duty has always been the business of men of valour —

yet when affairs of state go so grievously wrong,

following old precedents they seize conscript men wherever they can,

and so a scholar of letters is pressed into service as a fighting soldier.

After travelling on like this for several days, Du Shi endured as best she could, half ill and half well, finding it harder and harder to bear. Before long they arrived at Linqing and stopped at an inn. Chang Quan asked the innkeeper for some hot water and tea to attend to Du Shi as she lay down. In the middle of the night, Du Shi began to burn with fever all over her body, crying out that she ached everywhere. Chang Quan had exhausted himself that day and had just fallen into a sound sleep when he suddenly heard Du Shi crying out in pain. Having no choice, he rose and rubbed her all over — her body was hot as burning coals. Du Shi managed to say, her breath coming in only the faintest thread: "I have endured hardship after hardship, clinging only to the hope of going with you to the frontier and seeing some better day ahead. But now I have fallen ill, and I feel myself truly worn through. There are still four or five thousand li ahead of us — clearly I cannot go on with you. It is only that I cannot let go of Chang Gu…" At that she broke into weeping.

Chang Quan heard Du Shi speak these words and was so frightened that his whole body trembled as he said: "Dear wife, take care of yourself! Be patient a little longer! You must have caught a chill from the wind on the road — that is surely the cause of this illness. At first light I shall go and find a physician. Let me get some hot liquid for you to drink now." Chang Quan stepped out of the room and called several times to the innkeeper, but all had fallen fast asleep. With no other recourse, he could only sit by the bedside. Du Shi had fallen into unconsciousness. He called her name several times, and she gave only one or two faint responses.

And because of this illness that befell Du Shi, what would follow was this:

Flesh and blood would be parted once more — a flower uprooted, then grafted to a new branch.

As for whether Du Shi would live or die — listen to the next chapter to learn the answer.