This was an era when the scholar class was free – free to express their feelings at will, free to voice academic opinions that overturned conventional understanding. It was an era of great tolerance toward scholars: they could criticize current affairs, swim against the current, even condemn a ruler’s moral failings, and could even point at and loudly curse the ruler.
Yet one also had to take responsibility for one’s words and actions. If what was said was indeed reasonable, not only would one not be punished, but one would receive courteous treatment and respect. But the ruler held the highest position – how could one curse him, then discover one had cursed wrongly, and expect a casual “it was a misunderstanding” to settle the matter?
Although Muxu’s act of apologizing for his offense with death was drastic, it was indeed something that happened frequently. Taking responsibility for one’s words with one’s life – this was praiseworthy conduct.
Song Chuyi took a sip of rice wine, and its mellow fragrance spread across the tip of her tongue.
Mu Xu had not simply drawn his sword and killed himself on a whim. It was because he was filled with ardent passion and a patriotic heart that he used his own blood to stain this protest. With the integration of a scholar’s blood, this protest would carry greater force. This was undoubtedly very advantageous to Song Chuyi’s plan.
Mu Xu’s corpse was respectfully carried out of the tavern, and the assembled scholars saw him off through the snow.
For a time, only Song Chuyi, dressed as a scholar, remained in the tavern. Fortunately, she was seated in a private room, so she would not attract too much attention.
After eating some roasted meat and drinking halfway through the wine, some scholars had already returned, and the quiet tavern became lively again.
Filled with grief and indignation, the crowd urged the proprietor to bring out bamboo slips, brushes, and ink, and each brought out their highest level of skill to write denunciations from the bottom of their hearts. The entire tavern turned into a literary hall.
“Sir, will you not write one?” The maid had at some point also brought bamboo slips, bowing with both hands raised above her head.
Song Chuyi was briefly startled, then asked, “Who told you to bring me bamboo slips?”
“It was…” The maid hesitated.
From the private room across the way, a young man in fine clothes picked up a wine vessel and walked over. “How do you know it wasn’t this maid who wished to ask you to leave behind a fine piece?”
This young man was about twenty-five or so, with a square face and a short, neat, clean beard on his chin. He was clearly dressed as a merchant, yet he did not carry much of the vulgar air of a tradesman.
Song Chuyi took the bamboo slips from the maid’s hands and spread them open on the table, but showed no intention of picking up a brush. She only extended a hand to invite the newcomer to sit.
“I have little learning and shallow knowledge. Though my heart is willing, my strength falls short. If I write something out, it will only make a fool of me and may well damage the dignity of this protest. By contrast, sir, your bearing is extraordinary, and surely you harbor brilliant writing within. Why not lend your strength to the cause?” Song Chuyi smiled and pushed the opened bamboo slips toward the man.
The man quickly waved his hand and said, “I dare not, I dare not. I am but a merchant. I have read a few volumes of books superficially, gulping them down without digesting them. How could I write any kind of essay? And I certainly do not deserve the title ‘sir.'”
Song Chuyi did not try to persuade him further to write. She only smiled and said, “Since neither of us has such talent, we had best settle down and wait to see what others write.”
The maid brought out the food from that man’s private room and placed it together with Song Chuyi’s.
“I am Yu She, a merchant of Chu. May I ask your esteemed name, sir?” Yu She asked with a cupped-hand salute.
Song Chuyi noticed that he had just called her “young brother” moments ago, yet in the blink of an eye he was calling her “sir.” She pondered briefly, then said, “Song Huaijin.”
“Huaijin? Could you be the Master Huaijin who resolved the crisis of Wey?” Yu She looked at her in surprise.
Song Chuyi also wore an expression of surprise. “Brother Yu She, I fear your information may be mistaken. Was it not Master Min Chi who resolved the crisis of Wey?”
Everyone in Song understood that the reconciliation between Wey and Song this time had been the result of Min Chi’s mediation. Most people still did not know there was a Song Chuyi. The reason Song Chuyi had some reputation at all was because of her argument yesterday about weak states contending for hegemony. Even so, her fame extended only as far as the city of Puyang, and perhaps only to scholars on this very street. She was far from comparable to Min Chi.
“Haha, a wise man does not speak in riddles. We merchants have the keenest information. In the reconciliation between Song and Wey, Master Min Chi was merely the public face, but Master Huaijin’s contribution cannot go unmentioned,” Yu She said with a smile.
Song Chuyi thought to herself: You certainly have not spoken plainly to me, so you cannot blame me for doing the same. Yu She, upon seeing her, was only surprised by her identity, not – as most people would be – astonished by her age. This showed that he had already seen her before, and had even investigated her, yet still pretended to have only heard of her and never met her. She did not know what he was after.
“You are indeed well informed. But to attribute all the credit to me would be somewhat unfair to Master Min Chi.” Song Chuyi took a sip of wine and said, “Brother Yu She, being so well informed, must know that a certain school has risen recently, called the School of Vertical and Horizontal.”
Yu She was puzzled, not knowing why Song Chuyi had brought this up, but still nodded and said, “I have heard something of it. They are said to come from the Guiguzi lineage, though I have not had the fortune to read their theories on vertical and horizontal alliances, nor do I know what they actually do.”
“You have quite the manner of the School of Vertical and Horizontal,” Song Chuyi said.
Yu She asked curiously, “Oh? How so?”
Song Chuyi grinned and said, “Most skilled at speaking like a human to humans and like a ghost to ghosts.”
To compare a merchant to a scholar was itself a kind of elevation. It was not really sarcasm or mockery, but rather carried more of a teasing tone.
Yu She laughed heartily. He was very interested in the School of Vertical and Horizontal, and pressed on, “Sir, have you read their theories? Do you know what they actually do?”
“I have not read them, but I have heard a little,” Song Chuyi said with great sincerity. In truth, however, she had not only read them, but had carefully studied them for several years.
What is called the School of Vertical and Horizontal: the Verticalists unite the many weak to attack the one strong; the Horizontalists serve the one strong to attack the many weak. The path of destroying states that she pursued coincided with “Horizontal.” Although the methods employed differed, both advocated serving one strong power to attack the many weak. Therefore, she also very much agreed with the doctrine of horizontal alliance.
“Sir, do you know which Vertical and Horizontal thinkers have come from Guiguzi, and where they are from?” Yu She asked.
Song Chuyi raised an eyebrow slightly, took a sip of rice wine, and said, “Brother Yu She, are you not being a little too impatient?”
Merchants chase profit. Hearing about matters unrelated to business was purely a matter of curiosity. An ordinary merchant would at most be interested in the theories of Vertical and Horizontal, but would not, without even knowing those theories, go inquiring after the whereabouts of Vertical and Horizontal scholars. Unless he wanted to seek them out in person to learn from them – but what would a merchant want with a Vertical and Horizontal scholar?
Yu She was stunned for a moment before realizing that he had already been seen through by Song Chuyi. Her unobtrusive diversion of the conversation toward Vertical and Horizontal scholars was not simply intended to tease him, but to draw out his true purpose.
Having been exposed, Yu She did not appear ashamed at all. Instead, he seemed faintly excited. With a flick of his broad sleeve, he gave Song Chuyi a salute. “I will certainly call upon you at your residence another day, sir.”
Song Chuyi only smiled faintly, saying neither that he would be welcome nor unwelcome.
As though Song Chuyi’s behavior had left Yu She quite satisfied, he rose and departed contentedly.
Song Chuyi lowered her eyes, watching his figure as he passed through the main hall, and fell into thought. After a moment, she said to the maid, “Brushes and ink.”
The maid respectfully presented a brush already dipped in ink with both hands. Song Chuyi spread the blank bamboo slips before her, set down the wine cup, lowered her head, and began writing rapidly.
