Chapter 10: Entering Dingrong

　　To greet the Crown Prince of Chen thirty li outside the Wei capital, Dingrong City—this was the highest honor that Grand Tutor Jiwei could bestow.

　　It was a gesture that proclaimed the grandeur of Wei.

　　As they watched the dust rise from the official road a few li away, everyone could clearly make out the character "Li" on the banner of the Crown Prince of Chen. A guard beside the Grand Tutor murmured in his ear, "The Crown Prince of Chen has arrived—half a day earlier than expected."

　　The movements of the Chen prince's party were entirely within Wei's knowledge, thanks to the steady stream of secret reports from the three Wei King's guards who had been tracking them. Thus, even with the prince arriving half a day early, Grand Tutor Jiwei was still able to greet him at the appointed time beyond the city walls.

　　There was another meaning behind this gesture: it was a clear and unmistakable message to the Chen party—once you enter Wei, you are within our grasp.

　　The Crown Prince stepped forward and exchanged formal greetings with Grand Tutor Jiwei. The guards of his household then knelt and prostrated themselves. Luo Huangyi, standing among the maidservants, likewise bowed along with the other women.

　　Jiwei swept his gaze over the Chen party for a moment, then reached out and helped the Crown Prince to his feet. "Your Highness has endured a long and arduous journey," he said in rapid succession. "There is no need for such formalities. The King of Wei awaits you in the palace. This old servant, advanced in years and frail of body, has come late to welcome you—I beg Your Highness's forgiveness."

　　Though only ten years old, Crown Prince Li was thoroughly versed in such diplomatic exchanges—his response was flawless.

　　Chen Li replied that he dared not presume, and added that though he was young, he held the majesty of the King of Wei in the highest esteem. Thus, by order of his father King Ying, he had come bearing gifts to pay his respects to the King of Wei and Grand Tutor Jiwei, so as to satisfy his long-held admiration.

　　Jiwei seemed greatly pleased by this. He let out a hearty laugh, took the Crown Prince by the hand, and invited him to share his own Grand Tutor's carriage, personally escorting the prince into the palace for an audience with the king.

　　The gates of Dingrong City stood wide open. The city guards, in full military array, lined both sides of the road for a full three li, with banners and flags fluttering in the breeze. Jiwei led the Crown Prince's party slowly through the middle of this grand corridor.

　　The official road into the city had been swept so clean that not a speck of dust remained. Behind the statue-like guards, the common folk of Wei had packed the streets, jostling to catch a glimpse of the spectacle.

　　The citizens of the capital were, in ordinary times, a well-traveled and worldly lot. But the sight of the young Crown Prince of Chen coming to pay homage to the King of Wei was, for most of them, still a novelty. And when they saw the grand formation the city guards had arranged, they knew that the King of Wei was receiving this little prince with the highest ceremony.

　　The Grand Tutor's carriage had no canopy or enclosure. The Crown Prince of Chen sat upright on the seat beside the Grand Tutor himself. The onlookers craned their necks, full of curiosity, to see this ten-year-old prince of Chen.

　　Chen Jiang and the other Eight Guards rode their Shu horses in two columns behind the Grand Tutor's carriage, each man gazing straight ahead, never letting his eyes wander.

　　The people of Wei had rarely seen Shu horses, and they were curious about Chen Jiang and his men. But many still fixed their gaze on the Crown Prince of Chen. A buzz of murmurs rose from the crowd, growing louder and louder. Jiwei sat with his eyes closed, his face wearing a faint smile, as though he had not heard a word.

　　Suddenly, he sensed the prince rise to his feet beside him. The Grand Tutor opened his eyes to see the prince raising his hands in a gesture of courtesy toward the crowd on all sides, a smile bright on his face. Jiwei's frame was imposing—even seated, he was nearly as tall as the prince standing—and his bulk blocked the view of the onlookers on the other side.

　　Seeing this, the Crown Prince simply stepped forward from beside Jiwei and stood at the front of the carriage, still beaming. He clasped his hands and bowed in salute to the crowd on all sides.

　　From among the onlookers, a sudden cry of "Bravo!" rang out—no one knew who had shouted it, but it was loud and clear, and it sparked a wave of cheers. At that, a faint twitch crossed the Grand Tutor's face.

　　The Crown Prince bowed in thanks toward the direction of the shout, then turned and saluted Grand Tutor Jiwei. "I beg the Grand Tutor's forgiveness," he said. "I was moved by the warmth and hospitality of the people of Wei, and so I rose to offer them my thanks. I fear it may have been a breach of etiquette—I hope the Grand Tutor will overlook it."

　　Jiwei waved his hand, his face resuming its expressionless composure. "The Crown Prince is forthright by nature—what offense could there be?"

　　They continued on their way, and soon arrived at the Wei palace. Cheers followed them all the way, and the Crown Prince did not sit back down—he stood and waved his arms with unflagging joy.

　　From the high terrace before the palace, King Cheng Tang of Wei watched the scene and laughed. "This little monkey is quite amusing."

　　The ministers around him immediately began to murmur among themselves, all agreeing that the Crown Prince of Chen was arrogant and overbearing, showing not the slightest awareness that he had come to Wei as a hostage. Some even went so far as to advise the king to give the Chen party a thorough humiliation.

　　The King of Wei raised his hand. "Is a kingdom's prestige to be measured by the sharpness of its words? To cross swords with a mere child—would that be the act of a true gentleman?" The ministers fell silent, one and all, and turned their gaze toward the procession drawing nearer to the palace.

　　The Grand Tutor felt a flicker of irritation, but it was not his place to speak. Seeing this, the royal guards began dispersing the curious crowd as soon as the party had entered the city.

　　Having had their fill of the spectacle, the people, driven back by the guards, turned their attention instead to the various rare beasts and exotic treasures being presented at the rear of the procession, commenting freely on each.

　　"So this is the Crown Prince of Chen?" muttered a pockmarked middle-aged man in the crowd, a teapot cradled in his hands.

　　"Just a spoilt brat," replied another, with undisguised disdain. He turned to the muttering man and asked, "Li, you pockmarked fellow—why aren't you out buying your stock this early morning? What brings you here to gawk at the spectacle?"

　　Li the pockmarked let out a "Pfft!" and said, "The whole of Dingrong has come to watch the monkey show. Who's going to come shopping at a time like this?" Li dealt in cloth—he had come to Dingrong City twenty years ago, said to be a man of Yan, and specialized in selling the fine silk brocade produced there. An honest man who cheated neither the old nor the young, he had built up a respectable fortune over the two decades.

　　Li the pockmarked turned to the man who had spoken and asked, "And what about you? You're packed in here with the rest of us. Why aren't you at home, fondling your newly-won concubine?"

　　The man who had labeled the Crown Prince of Chen a "spoilt brat" was broad and corpulent, dressed in the finest garments—custom-made by "Rong Fang," the premier tailoring house of Dingrong City.

　　Anyone with such bearing was at least a collateral royal or noble of Wei. "Rong Fang" first supplied the Wei palace, and only then took commissions from the ministers and nobles of the court.

　　The corpulent man was of the Su clan, a collateral branch of the Queen of Wei's family, and held a fourth-rank title of nobility. The Queen's family was vast, with many branches. In Wei, there were five ranks of nobility: Duke, Marquis, Earl, Viscount, and Baron—with Baron being the lowest, and those beyond the fifth rank holding no title at all. The ranks of Duke and Marquis were hereditary, but each generation saw a demotion; if no meritorious service earned an elevation, after five generations one would be reduced to commoner status.

　　Thus, this Su clansman had inherited his fifth-rank title and, unless he performed some deed worthy of reward, his grandson would be reduced to the same standing as Li the pockmarked.

　　The two were well acquainted in their daily lives. Li had little faith that Fatty Su would ever have a chance to distinguish himself in battle, and so he was hardly intimidated by this declining noble.

　　The realm was at peace in those days, with no great wars among the kingdoms for many years. Those who dreamed of earning titles through merit were all waiting with eager eyes—there was little chance for a soft-bellied, idle man like this one.

　　The Su household had fallen on hard times. Though he had long known Li and often received his financial help, Fatty Su still looked down on him for his unassuming appearance.

　　Li the pockmarked knew all this well, but it did not trouble him. Though the man was a fallen noble—and there were countless such families in Dingrong—he was, after all, once a titled lord. As the saying goes, even a broken ship still has three pounds of iron.

　　By spending his own money, Li could make use of Su's connections and gain many conveniences—an essential move for any traveling merchant. And so the two had grown familiar.

　　But whenever the opportunity arose, Li showed not the slightest reverence for this Marquis or Earl. In his eyes, this fourth-rank Su clansman had no real skills to speak of—his only passion was taking many wives and begetting many sons, as if counting on his offspring to make up for his own shortcomings.

　　He had a whole brood of sons, but whether any of them would prove reliable—no one could yet say. Whenever Li brought up the subject, Fatty Su would give his usual easygoing chuckle and toss back: "You worry too much about nothing."

　　As the two bantered, the city guards had already dispersed most of the onlooking crowd.

　　Though a fifth-rank baron, Su had no place standing before the palace hall on such an occasion. With the excitement now over, and mindful of his dignity, he did not wait for the guards to approach—he simply pushed his way out of the crowd and strolled off with an air of composure.

　　Li the pockmarked, however, lingered to watch the rare beasts and exotic treasures at the rear of the Chen prince's procession. Many of the common folk were still in high spirits, craning their necks and jostling shoulder to shoulder, ignoring the guards' shoves—this was prime material for future boasting in the taverns.

　　Li let himself be carried along with the crowd as it slowly pressed him away. He drained the last of the tea from his pot, then turned and walked back to his cloth shop at a steady pace.

　　The shop was already open for business, the clerks each busy at their tasks. Li circled around the front a few times, saw that no one was slacking, and headed into the rear courtyard. The moment he stepped through the gate, he tossed his teapot aside—and someone reached out soundlessly to catch it.

　　"Brush and ink," Li ordered. He went to the writing desk in the side room, picked up the prepared soft brush, and scribbled a few brief lines. He set down the brush without a second glance and left the room.

　　A day later, the slip of paper bearing Li's few lines appeared on the desk of Yan's Grand Tutor, Yan Lin'an. After reading it, the Grand Tutor said to the man beside him: "Report to the King of Yan at once—King Ying has sent his son as a hostage. Chen and Wei have formed an alliance."

　　That year was the autumn of the ninth hundred and thirty-ninth year of the Era Calendar.