Chapter Seven: Tang Xiyao Endures Hardship as His Wicked Nephew Grinds Him Down; Chang Tianyou Unknowingly Rescues a Kinsman in Distress

A lyric verse:

Without cause she fell into the void, already transformed into a young phoenix.

Why must she be carried off again on the wind, to play the plum blossom's three refrains?

Snatched away and fought over, the soul is startled;

Only grief remains for that other heaven and earth.

Yet when one learns at last that the lantern is fire,

One comes to know that the fallen leaf returns to its root.

To the tune of "Qing Ping Yue"

Now the story returns to Duan Ju. Aboard the official vessel, though his post was modest, the rules and protocols were observed as strictly as anywhere. The yamen runners addressed Li Shi as "Madam," and Duan Chang was called "Young Master." All the way they traveled in high spirits, pressing onward toward the Yangtze River. Before long, without mishap, they arrived at Xinyu County. The school's attendants came out to welcome them in. The following day Duan Ju offered incense at the temple, called upon the county magistrate and his colleagues, attended the reception banquet, and received the customary gifts of courtesy from the assembled students. Several busy days passed before he found a moment of quiet. He then set his study in order and began to instruct Duan Chang. To his surprise, Duan Chang had no need of laborious study -- a single glance through a book and he knew it. Recognizing the boy's uncommon gifts, Duan Ju had him compose essays only on the third, sixth, and ninth days of the month, and otherwise left him free. Duan Ju also reflected privately that, as the years advanced, he feared his own scholarship in the examination style might no longer suit the times. Whenever the monthly student essays came in for grading, he would call on Duan Chang to rank and comment on them, and the students were invariably pleased and impressed. They all said that Old Teacher Duan had an unerring eye for good writing. But let us set this matter aside for now.

On a certain day, Tang Xiyao saw his son Tang Chang off to the examination hall, then returned home. As the afternoon wore on, he said to Zhao Shi: "The boy must be working hard in that hall. Go ahead and prepare some food for when he gets back." Zhao Shi set out a few of his favorite dishes and waited. But as evening drew near, there was still no sign of him. Tang Xiyao said: "The Examiner must have set a difficult question today -- that must be why the boy is late." He paced in and out, keeping watch at the gate without pause. He saw one after another of the candidates who had gone in for the examination walk past the gate homeward, yet Tang Chang alone did not appear. Growing anxious, Tang Xiyao took two servants and went to stand at the road before the Examination Hall, scanning every face as they came out -- but Tang Chang was nowhere to be seen.

As dusk deepened, a cannon shot from within the compound announced the closing of the gates. Shortly after, the area before the yamen fell utterly still. Tang Xiyao said: "I must have missed him in the dim light. By now he has likely been home and eaten his supper already." He turned and headed back. Reaching the gate, he saw that the main door still stood open, and in the shadows Zhao Shi and the household maids were all waiting outside. Tang Xiyao hurried forward and asked: "Has the boy returned?" Zhao Shi said: "No." Tang Xiyao said in alarm: "Where on earth could he have gone?" Zhao Shi said: "Perhaps he is still inside the examination hall." Tang Xiyao said: "I saw the Examiner's gate closed before I came home -- how could he still be inside!" Frantic with worry, he immediately sent two servants out with lanterns and torches to search through half the night. They all came back saying they had not found him. With no recourse, Tang Xiyao went inside with Zhao Shi, and neither of them slept a wink all night.

When morning came, he sent people searching in every direction -- but there was no trace, no word. Zhao Shi said: "Could it be that the boy never went inside to take the examination?" Tang Xiyao said: "How could that be? I myself watched him enter the school gate." Zhao Shi said: "He is so young -- he has never gone out alone. He doesn't know the roads. Perhaps someone has taken him in, mistaking him for lost. Write up a notice quickly and have people call it out through the city and in the countryside -- perhaps news will come. Otherwise, what shall we do!" She burst into loud weeping, calling out to heaven and earth. Tang Xiyao held back his own tears as he wrote out many notices and sent people to cry them in the streets inside and outside the city. Day after day they called -- but not a single word came back. Zhao Shi did nothing but weep, and Tang Xiyao was entirely at a loss.

Then one day Tang Tu came by, and seeing Tang Xiyao he said: "Your nephew heard that his younger brother went to take the examination -- how is it he has disappeared?" Zhao Shi told him the whole story. Tang Tu laughed and said: "He must have wandered off, young as he is, and stumbled down to the Linqing docks, where someone has stolen him away and sold him. After all, he is not your own flesh and blood. Uncle and Aunt, what is the use of weeping for him? Take care of yourselves." Zhao Shi, finding his words intolerable, paid him no further attention and went inside to weep. Tang Tu, seeing that neither his uncle nor his aunt would engage with him, went on his way.

Some time later, Tang Tu sent someone to see Tang Xiyao with this message: "Your son is gone without trace, and the house is empty and cheerless. Of all your kinsmen, only your nephew Tang Tu is truly close -- he counts as your own branch. He has two sons: why not adopt one of them to carry on the line? It would give you comfort through the years. Besides, when a man has no son of his own, adopting a nephew's child is the established custom of all ages. If you go on mourning and weeping like this and something should happen to you, the disputes that would arise afterward could be very ugly." Tang Xiyao replied: "I have heard it said that in choosing an heir, it is better to choose the worthy than merely the near. What has gone before tells you what will come after. My nephew, though a close relation by blood, is not an upright man -- clearly he does not meet the standard of virtue. A man who behaves as he does will not produce offspring of any great merit either. To have such a person come into my household and cause me grief is worse than firmly refusing him entry. Moreover, my bones and sinews are still strong -- I am not about to die just yet. Whether Tang Chang lives or has perished, there is still no certain news. If he should come home one day, where would that leave an adopted heir? I am willing to remain alone. I will not burden myself with another's troubles."

The messenger, finding his argument falling on deaf ears, had no choice but to return and relay everything in detail to Tang Tu. Tang Tu flew into a rage and cursed: "That old dog of a man -- if he doesn't die at my hands, I am no true man! He took someone else's flesh and blood and called it his own -- topsy-turvy from the start! And now that the boy has vanished without a trace, he still won't give up the idea!" Then a thought came to him: "Getting him to abandon hope is not so difficult. All I need to do is thus and so." He then spread word around through various channels, saying that people had seen Tang Chang dead. The rumor spread everywhere. Tang Xiyao and Zhao Shi, with no way of knowing better, were forced to accept it as true, and invited several monks to perform the rites for summoning the soul. Husband and wife wept bitterly together. As the verse says:

Speak not only of the grief that love bears in life --

Even after death, tears and longing remain.

Yet if you would reckon who is near and who is distant,

The bond of true affection is known only within the heart.

Tang Tu now sent people daily to press Tang Xiyao to adopt one of his sons as heir. But let us set this matter aside.

We turn now to Feng Yi. He was serving in the capital along with Lady Wang and the young lady, and his reputation as a censor was upright and distinguished. But by nature he was forthright and unyielding. Seeing that the eunuch Cao Jixiang and the general Shi Heng, trading on their lofty merit from the Gate Restoration, wielded power that overshadowed the court both within and without, and were suppressing and framing loyal officials, Feng Yi, in a moment of righteous fury, joined forces with the censors of all thirteen circuits and submitted a joint memorial impeaching Shi Heng and the others for their unlawful conduct. Cao and Shi, possessed of great power, secretly issued a forged imperial edict, had Feng Yi and the others cast into prison, ordered the Embroidered Uniform Guard to conduct a joint trial, and sought to punish them with the severest of penalties. Fortunately, on that very day, a clear and bright sky suddenly burst forth with thunderclaps and torrential rain; trees throughout the city were uprooted and the capital was thrown into terror -- and only then did an imperial edict arrive granting amnesty and releasing Feng Yi and the others from prison.

Cao and Shi, seeing that Feng Yi had been the ringleader, had him demoted to the post of postal station master at Yulin Station in Shaanxi. Upon receiving the decree, Feng Yi dared not delay, and set out with Lady Wang and the young lady that very night, traveling in haste to take up his post. Now, what sort of place was Yulin Station? It lay near the riverbed wilderness of the Hetao -- a place of sparse population, no city walls, no settlements. The buildings were nothing but official quarters, a handful of thatched rooms. When troops passed through, the occupants would simply flee. And this post of station master was one that no man dared take on willingly. The only visitors to be received were military officers and soldiers. Even the slightest delay would bring accusations of disrespecting military affairs; if one did not present them with gifts, threats of violence would follow, with no recourse for grievance. Cao and Shi hated Feng Yi to the core; not wishing to have him openly executed, they dispatched him to this place as station master, confident that in the end he could not escape death there. Feng Yi, of course, had no inkling of any of this -- he supposed all places under heaven were much alike, and however harsh the conditions, he never imagined they could be so extreme.

Feng Yi left the pass, and after nearly a month on the road, the land grew wide and the people few. They were forced to carry dried provisions to stave off hunger along the way, enduring every manner of hardship. Feng Yi said to his wife: "I have received great favor from the court. In working to rid it of treacherous villains, I gave offense to those in power. I had resolved to die -- but by the grace of the Emperor I have been granted even this post as station master. Truly it is a second life he has given me. How could I dare complain of the hardship of the road? And yet it grieves me deeply that you and our child must suffer alongside me." Lady Wang said: "My lord, how can you say such things? For husband and wife to accompany one another through hardship and adversity is only right and natural. If on that earlier day something dreadful had befallen you, could I have lived on alone? What I grieve for now is only the young lady. She has followed us all this way, and we have not been able to give her a life of peace and comfort -- to see her wandering and displaced like this, I cannot bear it." She turned away, silently weeping. The young lady said: "Mother, you are mistaken. Had it not been for you and Father's rescue, I would have perished in a ditch long ago. The grace of your upbringing surpasses that of my birth parents. If I could take on your hardship in your stead, that is what I would wish. But I regret only that I am a young girl, and have no way to do so. Moreover, Father serves the nation with absolute loyalty -- if I can follow and repay with filial devotion, then even death would be fragrant, far preferable to the obscurity of before. Why should you both spare a thought for me? Do you not see me as part of your own lives?"

Feng Yi and Lady Wang, hearing her speak with such resolve, were filled with joy. And so, though the journey was hard, all three kept their hearts at peace and pressed steadily forward. One day, arriving at Wuya Ridge, they suddenly saw men and women fleeing in every direction along the road. Feng Yi, sensing something was very wrong, quickly sent a man ahead to ask. Everyone told him: "My lord, soldiers are coming from ahead, killing as they come -- you cannot pass." Feng Yi urgently asked what troops these were. His servant said: "They are all saying that the military commander of Heishan withheld the soldiers' grain rations until the men mutinied, killed him, and launched a general uprising. There is no one to bring them under control, and now they are killing in every direction. The local people have been hurt and have all fled. My lord, you must also make haste and take cover -- your life is what matters now."

Feng Yi and Lady Wang turned pale with shock and quickly ordered their people to find another road to escape. Unfamiliar with the terrain and in a state of panic, they had no choice but to join the stream of fleeing people and run with them in confusion. Just as they were running, suddenly clouds of dust rose up, and a band of soldiers burst out, cutting down anyone they met. The crowd of people let out a cry, and everyone scattered, each fighting for their own life. Children wailed, women screamed, calling for fathers and mothers; the press of the crowd was so great that the three sedan chairs of Feng Yi's party were split apart. The bearers had no thought to spare for anyone else, and made off at a run, each carrying one of the chairs.

After a time, having covered several li, they gradually put some distance between themselves and the danger. The servants dared at last to set down the chairs and look about -- and then they saw that one sedan chair was missing. They cried out in alarm: "My lord, something is terribly wrong! One of the sedan chairs is gone!" Feng Yi immediately stepped out of his chair. He could see Lady Wang's chair beside him, but the young lady's chair was nowhere to be seen. He went to Lady Wang's chair and lifted the curtain -- Lady Wang was inside, so frightened that her teeth were chattering and she could only murmur prayers to the Buddha. Feng Yi called out loudly: "Madam, this is dreadful! The child has gone missing!" Lady Wang, hearing his voice, came back to her senses, and when she understood that the young lady had vanished, she burst into loud weeping: "My devoted child, what terrible suffering you have been brought to!" She caught a breath that would not turn, and her hands and feet went cold. Feng Yi called out to her again and again before she revived. He too could not hold back his tears. He wanted to send someone back to search for the young lady -- but who would dare go? There was nothing to be done. Seeing this place was not somewhere they could remain, they fled together toward a village to lodge for the night, waiting for things to settle before searching again. But let us set this matter aside.

Now for the story of the young lady Feng. Her sedan chair was keeping pace with the others when the fleeing crowd suddenly knocked the bearers at the front off their feet, and they were trampled and injured in an instant. The bearers at the back, seeing they could carry the chair no further, thought only of saving their own lives and abandoned the young lady, fleeing ahead. The young lady, seeing from inside the chair that the bearers had run off and finding no trace of her parents, was seized with panic, and could only climb out of the chair and follow the crowd, with no thought for her tiny bound feet or her silk stockings -- she simply ran wherever she could. But the crowd was dense, and she could not keep up. In no time the people had all passed on, and she was left alone in the wilderness, sitting on the ground and weeping. Then another band of soldiers came thundering up, and seeing it was a young girl, they did not kill her, but instead hoisted her up on horseback and carried her along as they swept through villages, looting and plundering. Fortunately, the soldier who had her, seeing she was so young and of delicate beauty, did not molest her. He asked her: "You are not from these parts -- how did you become separated from your parents?" The young lady told him everything, and only then did he realize she was a young lady of quality. Learning also that her father was a loyal official who had suffered demotion, the soldier took pity on her and made some effort to provide her with food and drink. Wherever the troops went, she went with them -- east when they marched east, west when they marched west. But let us set this matter aside.

The news of the uprising at Heishan Ridge had already reached Zhou Chongwen. On receiving the report, he immediately mustered his troops, intending to come and suppress it. His chief adviser Chang Quan counseled him, saying: "The disturbance at Heishan Ridge is not that of an army besieging cities and seizing territory. The men who killed their commander have scattered in all directions, raiding and pillaging, with no fixed pattern of assembly or dispersal. They are a rabble without discipline. If the General Commander were now to lead a single division, suppressing or pacifying wherever opportunity presents itself, extinguishing the trouble wherever it breaks out, the Heishan Ridge faction will find itself isolated, and the matter can be settled by proclamation alone. Victory will not be long in coming."

Zhou Chongwen was greatly pleased and said: "The adviser's words accord perfectly with my own thinking." He then took Chang Quan with him and led the troops forward, suppressing the disorder along the way -- accepting surrenders where men surrendered, offering pacification where men were willing, restoring order place by place. Chang Quan then further advised Zhou Chongwen: "Among the soldiers who surrender, those who have seized women from the local people should not be allowed to conceal them. All such women must be brought before the army and arrangements made to send them home -- that would be best." Zhou Chongwen immediately issued orders to all commanders: "Any man who conceals civilian women and children will be beheaded." Before long, the surrendering soldiers came forward one by one to hand over those they held, daring to keep none. Zhou Chongwen then examined each case, identified where the women were from, issued notices to the local residents, and sent people out to claim their own.

One day, pursuing the rebels to the place called Qingni Dam, they came upon a group of unruly soldiers who, ignorant of their own fate, advanced to give battle. Zhou Chongwen's strong bows and powerful crossbows made short work of them, scattering the rebel soldiers in every direction, and all the plunder they had seized was left behind in their flight. The regular soldiers, seeing this, rushed to seize the abandoned goods all at once. Zhou Chongwen could not restrain them and was furious, about to take action, when adviser Chang Quan said: "The art of commanding troops lies in making the men willing to die in battle. If our men take what is looted, they must indeed be punished by military law. But what the enemy has abandoned -- taking that does them no wrong. To forbid it will only breed resentment. Better to relax the prohibition and let them feel the joy of devotion in their hearts." Zhou Chongwen listened and had no choice but to comply.

Chang Quan then rode out to observe the scene. Suddenly he saw a soldier rushing off with a young girl in his arms. Chang Quan called out sharply: "The Commander has issued orders -- no one is to take women! Violators will be dealt with under military law!" The soldier, hearing the Adviser himself speak, feared it would be reported to the Commander, and let the girl go and ran off to hide. Chang Quan, from horseback, looked at this young girl -- her face was full of sorrow, yet there was in it a delicate beauty. He thought to himself: "This girl is surely not of common stock. If I do not rescue her, she will only fall into someone else's hands and suffer harm." He ordered his attendants: "Bring that young girl to see me."

When Chang Quan reached the camp, his attendants brought the girl before him. Chang Quan asked: "By the look of you, you seem to be a young lady from a good family -- clearly not someone from these frontier wilds. How did you come to be lost among the troops? Tell me in detail who your parents are and where your home is, and I will arrange for you to be escorted back." The girl, hearing his question, immediately knelt down and said: "My father is Feng Yi, currently serving at court. He offended the powerful and was demoted to a postal station post, and I was accompanying my parents to his new station when I became separated from them in the chaos and was taken by rebel soldiers. I beg you, sir, to take me in and give me the chance to repay your kindness one day." Chang Quan said: "So you are a young lady of distinguished family -- I have been remiss in my respect." He asked her to rise, and the young lady stood to one side. Chang Quan said: "At which station is your honored father serving?" The young lady said: "Yulin Station." Chang Quan said: "Yulin Station is still more than two thousand li from here, and the road is difficult. Shall I arrange for someone to escort you back?" The young lady said: "To be sent back would of course be good, but at the time we were separated in the chaos, I do not know whether my parents are alive or where they may have drifted. And the road ahead is long and the way difficult. I have just escaped the tiger's den only to stand at the edge of another unfathomable abyss. I beg you, sir, out of the fellowship of officials, to be so gracious as to take me in. Then your righteousness will reach to the very clouds of heaven." As she spoke, tears fell from her eyes.

Chang Quan listened, and was greatly moved. He thought to himself: "Though this girl is young, she shows such foresight." He also found that she spoke with great clarity and intelligence, and he felt deep compassion for her. He thought further: "Why not take her in as an adopted daughter, to bring comfort to my later years? I only wonder what she herself thinks." So he said: "Your thinking, young lady, is indeed sound. Taking you in is not difficult -- only the problem is that my commander's military regulations are strict, and carrying women among the troops is forbidden. Those who violate this rule face military law. Now if I take you along, there is no private motive and yet it will seem as though there is -- how am I to manage this?"

The young lady, seeing him deflect the request and unwilling to take her along, burst into soft, mournful weeping, tears streaming down her cheeks. Chang Quan said: "Very well! I have a plan that will serve both needs. If you are willing to acknowledge the bond of adopted kinship and take me as your father, then you may travel with me." The young lady, hearing this, was overjoyed. She knelt before Chang Quan and prostrated herself in four deep bows, saying: "To have found a father who has saved this child from death in the midst of rebel soldiers -- this grace and virtue are truly a second birth." When she had finished bowing, Chang Quan quickly helped the young lady to her feet and said: "It is not I who do you any wrong. Within the army, it could not be otherwise." Father and daughter were both content. As the verse says:

What seemed a wrong turn was no wrong turn at all --

Heaven's design works its protection in secret.

One thinks only: an adopted daughter bows to a foster father.

Who could know she would prove to be a true daughter-in-law?

Chang Quan, having formally acknowledged Miss Feng as his daughter, continued with the army, suppressing and pacifying in every direction. Before long, all the rebel troops were subdued. He then had Zhou Chongwen send a dispatch to Heishan Ridge -- and indeed the soldiers and commanders there, filled with dread, pinned all the blame on the commander who had already died, and submitted in compliance with the dispatch. Zhou Chongwen accepted their surrender and incorporated them into the ranks. And so, to the beat of golden stirrups and the sound of victory songs, the army returned in triumph. Chang Quan brought his daughter to meet Du Shi. It was from this meeting that there came to be:

Tears at the sight of a familiar saddle, sorrow stirred by every familiar thing.

What happened when Miss Feng met Du Shi? Hear the resolution in the next chapter.