The warm chamber of the Qin palace.
Official documents were piled high on Ying Si’s desk, obscuring his figure within them.
“Lord of Qin,” Song Chuyi said, cupping her hands in salute.
Ying Si set down the bamboo slips and looked up at her. “Sit.”
“Thank you.” Song Chuyi knelt and sat down, inwardly speculating about what exactly Ying Si had called her here to say. After all, during their previous two meetings, she had not gotten the sense that he wished to have a lengthy discussion with her about state affairs – though this could also have been because he was a man of few words.
Ying Si was about to speak when a eunuch strode quickly to his side from one direction and whispered a few words in his ear.
His handsome brows knitted slightly. He said coldly, “Wait until I have finished with state affairs.”
“Yes.” The eunuch bowed and withdrew.
Ying Si raised his hand and ordered all the attendant maids to withdraw. “Does your ‘On Destroying States’ have a lower volume?”
Song Chuyi’s “On Destroying States” was in fact merely a treatise – the entire piece only criticized current affairs, exposing reality in all its bloody rawness, layer by layer dissected to the bone. Yet as for how to destroy other states, the text touched upon it only briefly.
“You possess discerning eyes, my lord. The writings I presented to you indeed consist of only the upper volume. The breadth and enormity of the way of destroying states truly cannot be described in just a few words. I have already begun writing, hoping to use my meager strength to present the outline of this great way before you, my lord,” Song Chuyi said.
“The way of the hegemon?” Ying Si asked.
What he meant was: Was the way of destroying states that Song Chuyi spoke of the way of hegemony?
In ancient times, the governance of the world by emperors and kings, when divided according to four macro models of governance, could roughly be categorized as the way of the august sovereign, the way of the emperor, the way of the king, and the way of the hegemon.
The way of the hegemon esteemed wisdom and martial power. Rewards and punishments must be trustworthy, laws and decrees made clear; leading the people by force, the people likewise submitted by force. Contending through armed strength, seeking only efficiency. Taking cunning and deception as wisdom, striving for power and supremacy, seeking only profit and not virtue.
The way practiced by Shang Yang could be classified as the way of the hegemon.
And the seven great states all roughly followed this path of hegemony, because the Warring States era was an age of violence – if you spoke of righteousness while others stopped at nothing, you would have nothing left but destruction.
Judging from the upper half of “On Destroying States,” Ying Si felt that its contents could likewise be roughly attributed to the way of the hegemon.
“Yes, and no,” Song Chuyi said. She knew it was best not to be evasive before Ying Si, so as soon as she saw the faint question in his eyes, she continued immediately, “The theory of destroying states begins with the way of the hegemon, is carried out through the ways of the emperor and the king, and ends in the way of the august sovereign.”
That is to say, it initially appears in the posture of the hegemon, runs through with the way of the king and the way of the emperor, and reaches its conclusion in the way of the august sovereign.
A faint light gleamed in Ying Si’s handsome eyes. He shifted his mat forward and said, “Pray enlighten me, sir.”
His interest made Song Chuyi quite animated as well. She could not help but move forward as she sat and said, “I come from the Daoist school and esteems the way of the august sovereign above all. The way of the august sovereign emphasizes governing through non-action, leading the people by the Way, and the people return to him through the Way. Yet in an age of great contention, to practice the way of the august sovereign is no different from seeking one’s own death. Looking at the great trends of the world from ancient times to the present, whenever several states stand in a tripod balance, there is inevitably unending smoke of war – it is absolutely impossible for them to coexist in peace. The only way is to unify the world.”
She sighed and said, “Though I hold benevolence in my heart, the phoenix can only gain new life by bathing in fire. The common people must endure this one bout of pain.”
“Though Mencius was a great sage, he was not as practical as you, sir.” After hearing these words, Ying Si made this assessment in all sincerity.
Mencius’s way of the king was rooted in benevolent governance. It must be said that his set of doctrines did indeed elevate the way of the king to a highly perfected and mature state and further deepened thinking on human relations. Viewed as long-term development, it was indeed feasible. But this body of theory extended from the Spring and Autumn period; in the blood-soaked and violent Warring States era, no ruler could accept it.
That is to say, everyone could recognize that his thought and discourse were good and honored him as a sage, but it did not accord with reality and could not satisfy the ambitions in the hearts of heroic rulers.
The two, sharing the same aspirations, fell into an unrestrained conversation once they came together, chatting so absorbed that they even skipped the evening meal and only had several pots of warm rice wine sent to keep off the chill.
They truly talked by candlelight through the night.
Song Chuyi discovered that Ying Si was not actually the kind of blockhead who could not produce a single word no matter how hard you slapped him. Most of the time he did not speak, probably because he felt there was no need to. Moreover, Ying Si’s keenness in dealing with politics and warfare, as well as his incisive comments, left Song Chuyi in admiration. Although she looked young on the outside, she was in fact no longer young, but Ying Si was a genuine genius.
And from their first meeting until now, Ying Si had reassessed Song Chuyi time and again in his heart, and each time he made even more delighted discoveries.
Song Chuyi’s actual strength remained to be assessed, but at her age, to already possess such insight and learning – in a few more years she would likely be even more formidable. He suddenly felt somewhat unwilling to let her leave. If such talent were suddenly to change her mind and defect to another state, would that not pose a deep threat to Qin?
“Why not abandon Wey, sir?” Ying Si probed.
In the warm light, Song Chuyi looked at Ying Si’s handsome, ageless features without any romantic thoughts and said solemnly, “I have never had much in the way of virtue to speak of. Most of the time I am like those strategists – all mouth and no face. But anyone who is a person, and especially a man of letters, must have something he holds to. For me, that thing is the single word ‘trust.'”
Of course, Song Chuyi’s trustworthiness was also a matter of whom and what was involved. When employing deception, who would still speak of “trust”? But in conducting herself in the world, Song Chuyi was not a person without a bottom line.
“I trust in your character, sir.” Ying Si’s earlier words had merely been a test. Had Song Chuyi truly agreed, then even as he felt reassured, he would inevitably also have developed a separate wariness.
Just then, a sudden gurgling sound rang out.
Ying Si looked toward the source of the sound – Song Chuyi’s stomach – and laughed heartily. “So I have let you go hungry, sir. Someone, prepare noodle soup!”
Song Chuyi stared in astonishment at Ying Si’s face, which when smiling could overthrow all living beings. After being dazed for a moment, she joked, “You may not believe in my virtue, but you must believe this: so long as three years from now the Lord’s elegance remains as it is, I will, even with only one breath left, come to Qin to look upon the Lord once more before dying.”
“This is rather novel. Has your concern for appearances reached such a degree, sir?” Ying Si had also heard that some men, for no good reason, set aside women whom they did not like and instead preferred men. Could Song Chuyi also be this sort of person? He liked Song Chuyi’s talent, but toward this matter he was thoroughly disgusted and repelled.
Song Chuyi naturally saw Ying Si’s doubt and laughed. “Mountains towering and rivers vast – all are gifts from Heaven above. I was once utterly impoverished, wanting for food and clothing; only the clear wind and bright moon cost nothing, so one might as well enjoy them. Beautiful sights are the same to me.”
“How free and easy you are, sir.” A smile rose again on Ying Si’s face, and he teased her in turn, “Another day, when you enter Qin, how about I entertain you with Qin’s bright moon and clear wind, and my own beauty?”
Song Chuyi had just taken a mouthful of wine and nearly sprayed it out. She had always known that Ying Si was an uninhibited and straightforward man, but she truly had not seen that this consistently serious fellow could actually make such a joke. She steadied her emotions and barely managed to swallow the mouthful of wine. “May I take it back?”
Ying Si raised an eyebrow slightly.
“I’ll come right now,” Song Chuyi said with a smile.
The two looked at each other and laughed heartily.
Attendants brought in noodle soup and small dishes, and only then did the two each return to their seats to eat.
Longxi had a tough and yet simple and honest folk character. Even Ying Si, as the ruler of a state, did not live extravagantly in food and clothing. Compared with those exquisite dishes, a bowl of hot noodle soup suited his taste better. However, for the sake of Qin’s dignity, such food was generally not used to entertain foreign guests, especially envoys from other states. It was only because Ying Si regarded Song Chuyi as a friend that he did so.
Outside, snow was still drifting. After downing a large basin of noodle soup, her whole body felt warm and cozy. Whether food or dishes, the people of Longxi liked large portions. The bowls of Qin were much bigger than Song Chuyi’s face. She also knew that the people of Qin disliked the behavior of leaving leftovers, so after finishing, she was so stuffed that she sat with her belly thrust out, unable to move.
After rinsing his mouth, Ying Si saw Song Chuyi’s sprawled posture and could not help but smile.
After resting a while, they realized that the sky had already grown dim – it seemed dawn was approaching.
Ying Si ordered someone to escort Song Chuyi back to the relay inn, while he himself, in excellent spirits, went to wash up and prepare for the morning court assembly.
In the carriage.
Song Chuyi asked Ji Yu, “Have you eaten?”
“I ate at the hour of zi (11PM-1AM),” Ji Yu said. He wondered inwardly what exactly the Duke of Qin and Song Chuyi had talked about, to be able to talk all night. He knew it surely was not only about attacking Wei.
Ji Yu felt that when Song Chuyi was not being roguish, that elegance and bearing of hers would surely make the Lord of Qin’s eyes light up. Perhaps the Lord of Qin appreciated Song Chuyi’s talent and wanted to recruit her for his own use?
These thoughts flashed through his mind, but Ji Yu did not ask them aloud. After all, Song Chuyi had only promised three years in Wey, and where she would go after three years was her own private affair. Moreover, Ji Yu understood that given Wey’s situation, it simply could not retain talents with breadth of mind and ambition. Not only Song Chuyi – even Longgu Buwang would leave sooner or later.
On the last day in Qin, the weather finally cleared, and Song Chuyi went to collect the sword as agreed.
It was still that inconspicuous little courtyard. The old man laid out more than ten sharp swords for Song Chuyi to choose from.
Looking them over, Song Chuyi spotted at a glance a sword that was entirely black. It had no elaborate ornamentation; the guard was formed by two crouching fierce tigers. The whole blade was black and gleaming, but the edge looked as though it had never been sharpened – seemingly blunt, yet imposing.
Song Chuyi reached out to pick it up, only to find that the sword’s weight exceeded all imagination. She had to use both hands to lift it with difficulty.
The old man crouched by the table with a conflicted expression. “Easy there, be careful not to ruin your hands. Don’t let this sword’s clumsy look fool you – it is in fact indestructible. One swing, and no armor can withstand it.”
“Does this sword have a name?” Song Chuyi asked.
“Jucang,” the old man said. After thinking for a moment, he nodded again with certainty and said, “Yes, Jucang. I found a piece of rare dark iron in Cangnan, the like of which is seldom seen in the world, and spent more than a year forging it, but no one can wield it.”
Apart from this Jucang, the other swords all had the qualities of famous blades: moderate in weight, edges cold as snow, and with excellent flexibility in the blade, able to be coiled at the waist and worn as a belt.
“I’ll choose this Jucang. The three of you, each pick one as well,” Song Chuyi said.
Longgu Buwang actually preferred the Jucang that Song Chuyi had chosen and could not help saying, “This sword is so heavy, why not choose a lighter, more convenient one and let me have this one?”
“Go pick your own sword and stop eyeing it,” Song Chuyi said. From the first glance at Jucang, she felt she could see no other sword. So regardless of whether she could wield it, she had settled on it.
Longgu Buwang pursed his lips, in any case you cannot swing it. After some time, when we discuss it again, I will surely be able to trade for it.
With that thought, Longgu Buwang set about choosing another. His fervor for powerful weapons and arms immediately surged forth. At a glance, he wanted every single one. He was not short of money either, but unfortunately, the old man had said beforehand that he would sell only a few, and that there was absolutely no room for negotiation. No amount of money would make him sell more.
