In the Southern Dynasties, some sons of noble houses made capable generals, and even more could serve as chief ministers. But how often did a single generation produce a man who could command armies in the field and govern at court?
Liu Shilong had won distinction young, a man complete in both civil and military talents. His zither playing ranked first among gentlemen, earning him the name "Lord Liu of the Twin Locks"; his mastery of the horse lance was unrivaled in Jiangnan, and the world called him "Lord Liu of the Peerless Lance." He himself declared, "The horse lance comes first, Pure Conversation second, and the zither third." Countless younger men had fallen under the spell of his bearing and brilliance. Yet now this very man sat facing another whose presence was no less impressive, both wearing bitter smiles.
One was a duke, the other the Son of Heaven. Very few things could have made them exchange such smiles.
The Son of Heaven sighed.
"Back then, Shen Youzhi trained his troops for ten years before raising his standard with a head of white hair. He drew eight provinces into his grasp and shook the realm! You and I, one within and one without, joined forces to crush him. In less than two months, Youzhi's head fell. Everyone said, 'Even Lu Xun's defeat of Liu Bei was no greater than this.' Yet now a petty little barbarian tribe has us bound hand and foot. If word reaches the north, those Northern Barbarians will laugh themselves silly."
Liu Shilong's smile was bitter.
"If they laugh at anyone, it should be me. I know only Pure Conversation, not how to see clearly through real affairs. One day I speak of 'being unburdened by things,' the next of 'the sage embodying nonbeing,' and