Yongming

Rustle, rustle, rustle.

The Squad Leader led his men back toward camp.

He glanced at the scrawny soldier beside him. "Xiao Chan, if you've got a fart to let out, let it out. Stop hemming and hawing."

Keeping pace with him, Xiao Chan said, "Boss, this seems a bit fishy to me... however good he makes it sound, it's still nothing but words. What if he really is what those two said... well... you know..."

The Squad Leader slowed down. "Let me ask you: would it be better for those two to be northern spies, or not?"

Xiao Chan hesitated briefly, then answered without a shred of doubt, "Northern spies, of course! Killing four spies has to count as a merit, at least. We might even get a reward!"

"Then what the hell are you asking for?"

Xiao Chan's brows knitted tightly. "But, but if that man really is an impostor-"

"Are you stupid? We're just going back to report. Squad Leader Xue and Clerk Wang will decide whether he's genuine. What the hell does that have to do with us?"

The Squad Leader turned and called out, "Listen up, all of you! Keep your mouths shut when we get back! Remember what you should say and what you shouldn't! Your own interests are at stake here. Don't end up hurting yourselves and your brothers! Da Du, that goes double for you! Your mouth's got no gate on it! Watch yourself!"

Wind whispered through the woods, and the morning moon had just risen.

The spear-wielding Black Han found a large, flat-topped stone somewhere and carried it over to Wang Yang, sweating profusely. Then he vigorously wiped its surface with his sleeve and said ingratiatingly:

"Young master, sit here and rest a while. I'll find you some water."

"Water's here!" Ding Jiu hurried over with a brown waterskin cradled in his hands, his face wreathed in smiles.

"Young master, I've just fetched this mountain spring water. Please quench your thirst."

Wang Yang was in no mood to entertain their flattery. Pretending to belong to the Langya Wang clan was only a stopgap; soon he would have to face a squad leader who sounded even harder to deal with. Worse still, he did not even know which dynasty he was in.

All he knew was the broad period: the Eastern Jin and Southern Dynasties. Later generations also called these the "Five Dynasties," encompassing five regimes established south of the Yangtze: Eastern Jin, Song, Southern Qi, Liang, and Chen.

Of the five, Wang Yang knew the Eastern Jin and the Chen Dynasty best, followed by Song and Liang. He knew the least about the Qi Dynasty, which had the shortest history and most chaotic politics of them all. Thus, the dynasty he most hoped to have traveled to was the Eastern Jin.

He ruled out the Chen Dynasty because it marked the twilight of the Southern Dynasties. If he had arrived just as Sui conquered Chen, war would erupt and blood would flow deep enough to float pestles. Whether he could even survive was another question.

No!

He had to find out which of the five dynasties this was before that Squad Leader Xue arrived. Only then could he aim his lies at the right target.

But how could he find out?

Asking directly would never do. Could a member of the illustrious Langya Wang clan really not know the name of his own country?

Could he find a coin to examine?

That would not work either. The Southern Dynasties had a chaotic currency system, with old and new coins circulating together. It would be hard to tell.

After thinking for a while, Wang Yang had an idea. First, he seated himself grandly on the stone. Then he took the waterskin and asked casually, "How many years have you been soldiers?"

Ding Jiu answered first. "I've been a garrison soldier for five years."

Black Han said, "In answer to your question, young master, I've served for eight years."

"Oh, then you're veterans," Wang Yang said. "Why did you join the army?"

Black Han and Ding Jiu both looked at Wang Yang with peculiar expressions.

Damn!

Wang Yang immediately realized his mistake. He suddenly remembered that the Northern and Southern Dynasties were still an age of hereditary military service.

Under this system, the court required soldiers' families to serve in the military generation after generation. Such families were also called "soldier households." To expand the supply of troops, criminals, unregistered people, fugitive households, slaves, and even captives from tribal peoples were often sentenced to join soldier households.

Furthermore, the authorities imposed heavy labor obligations on soldier households and treated them poorly. To prevent them from fleeing, they kept them under coercive control. Soldiers' social standing therefore sank lower and lower, until they ranked beneath even ordinary commoners.

These two were soldiers, naturally, because their fathers and grandfathers had been soldiers. Everyone knew that, which was why they had found his question strange.

Realizing his mistake, Wang Yang added unhurriedly, "Oh, so you're Soldier's Sons, not commoner recruits."

Liu Yuxi's Inscription on the Humble Abode contained a famous line: "In laughter and conversation are great scholars; among those who come and go are no Commoner Recruits." Here, "Commoner Recruit" meant an ignorant person. During the Northern and Southern Dynasties, however, the term specifically referred to commoners who enlisted in the army.

Alongside hereditary military service, the Northern and Southern Dynasties also practiced recruitment-in other words, enlisting troops. But if enlisting meant becoming a soldier household, condemning all one's descendants to military service, who would volunteer?

Thus, the court stipulated that recruits should form separate units. Their families were not soldier households, and their household registrations were not entered into the Soldier Register. In short, they remained free.

Wang Yang thought he had shifted the conversation smoothly and appropriately. Little did he know that "soldier's son" carried considerable contempt at the time, verging on an insult. It was one thing for a soldier to belong to a soldier household, and quite another to have someone expose it to his face.

Moreover, commoner recruits were enlisted only at particular times, and generally served solely in combat. Men like Black Han and Ding Jiu, who guarded camps and trudged through arduous patrols, were usually Soldier's Sons.

Wang Yang's attempt to salvage his dignity was therefore none too clever. A noble young master looking down on soldier households was normal enough, but offending people at a time like this was hardly wise.

Ding Jiu's face flushed at once, and resentment flickered between his brows.

Black Han gave a bitter smile. "You're right, young master. We don't have the good fortune to be commoner recruits."

Noticing the changed atmosphere, Wang Yang guessed he had said something wrong, though he did not know exactly why. Given a choice, he would gladly have kept his mouth shut. But to pry out information about the dynasty, he had no choice but to keep this awkward conversation going.

"Well, can you read?" Wang Yang asked, as though merely making idle conversation.

Ding Jiu's face twitched, his anger becoming more apparent. He felt this spoiled young master was making sport of them!

Even among ordinary civilian households, few people could read. How much less likely was it among soldier households like theirs!

He answered gruffly, "No!"

Wang Yang heard Ding Jiu's displeasure but pretended not to notice.

Black Han still showed no anger. With an ingratiating smile, he said, "I know a few characters."

Delighted that Black Han had taken up the conversation, Wang Yang feigned surprise. "What's your name? To think you can read! That's quite rare."

"You flatter me, young master. My name's Hei Han. I picked up a little on my own so I could teach my daughter. All told, I only know a handful of characters."

Wang Yang looked Black Han over. Black Han—'dark man.' He certainly lives up to his name. "Black Han, let me test you, then. What does our era name mean?"

At last, after all that idle talk, Wang Yang had reached the crucial point: asking about the era name.

Black Han looked embarrassed. "The era name was chosen by the great lords in the capital. How would someone like me understand it?"

"That's all right," Wang Yang said. "Just say what you think."

Black Han thought for a moment, then summoned his courage. "It means forever... forever bright?"

Forever bright?

Forever bright...

Wang Yang turned those words over and over in his mind, and suddenly his heart jolted!

Holy shit!

Could it be Yongming?!

Seeing Wang Yang's expression change, Black Han hurriedly said, "I was only guessing. Please enlighten me, young master!"

Wang Yang steadied himself and asked, "First, tell me what the era name is."

"Yong... ming?" Now Black Han sounded unsure even of the era name.

It really was fucking Yongming!

This was an era name of Southern Qi, the dynasty he knew least about among the five!

Why did he know the least about Southern Qi?

Because, among the Eastern Jin and Southern Dynasties, Southern Qi had the shortest history and most chaotic politics!

Worse still, he had absolutely no idea what form that chaos took!

He only remembered that Mr. Qian Mu had assessed the Qi Dynasty in Outline of National History with utter disdain, saying, "In its men and its fortunes, it ranked lowest among the Southern Dynasties."

"Fortunes" referred to a dynasty's lifespan and fate. If Qian Mu denounced it as the "lowest," there had to be a reason!

Never mind why it ranked "lowest"-he was utterly clueless about even who its emperors were, how many reigns it had, who its ministers were, or what major events had occurred!

All he knew was that Southern Qi had existed only briefly before being replaced by the Liang Dynasty. He had heard of the era name Yongming purely because literary history included something called the Yongming Style, which paved the way for later regulated poems and quatrains, the so-called regulated verse.

But what use was knowing that?!

Wang Yang would gladly have traded that chicken-rib scrap of knowledge for a "Genealogical Table of the Southern Qi Emperors" or something. At the very least, knowing the exact year Southern Qi fell would have been something!

Note: ① During the Wei, Jin, and Northern and Southern Dynasties, soldiers' social status was so low that calling someone a "soldier" or "trooper" was almost an insult. In Romance of the Three Kingdoms, when Guan Yu heard that Huang Zhong had been named one of the Five Tiger Generals, he angrily declared, "Who is Huang Zhong, to dare rank alongside me? A man of honor will never associate with an old trooper." This incident was adapted from Records of the Three Kingdoms, whose original text reads, "When Guan Yu heard that Huang Zhong had become General of the Rear, he angrily said, 'A man of honor will never rank alongside an old soldier!'"

Whether "old soldier" or "old trooper," the main sting lay not in "old," but in "soldier" or "trooper." Something similar happened to Zhang Fei, except that he was the one being insulted: Liu Ba disdained speaking with him. When Zhuge Liang tried to persuade Liu Ba otherwise, he retorted, "A man of honor should befriend the heroes of the four seas. Why would he converse with a soldier's son?" Here, too, "Soldier's son" was derogatory. In A New Account of Tales of the World, a scholar-official expressed contempt for Huan Wen by calling him a "soldier," with the same meaning. (A New Account of Tales of the World, "Rectitude": "How hateful to see Wen Du become foolish again, afraid to face Huan Wen! A soldier! How could anyone marry a daughter to him!") The degradation of soldier households will appear again later. Further details follow.

② The custom of addressing officials as "my lord" originated much later. At the time, apart from forms of address restricted to particular relationships or identities, such as "Mingfu," "Shijun," and "Fujun," officials were also addressed directly by their offices. Some of those offices, however, are unfamiliar to modern readers. For example, a noble young master surnamed Liu will appear later, holding the fairly high-ranking office of Friend of the Prince of Badong. For many readers, "Lord Liu" conveys a more accurate impression than "Friend Liu." For ease of understanding, "my lord" has therefore been retained, though it is not historically accurate.