* Author's Note: I had almost lost the motivation to continue updating, but today I discovered that I have my first collection, which makes me very happy. Thank you all so much! I hope more and more friends will read and subscribe to this novel. Your subscriptions give me the motivation to update. I know the story itself might be somewhat obscure and difficult to understand, so I'll try to use my first-person perspective to help everyone interpret and understand it. Below is the main text.
The sword was already at the throat of the Duke of Lu's youngest son! In China, there is an old saying: "Once a sword is unsheathed, it must draw blood." This means that swords are lethal weapons, and in such critical situations, the sword-bearer can hardly control themselves from striking. Often, life hangs by a thread in such moments.
Just as I didn't know how this would end, the Duke of Zheng threw his cup violently onto the table, breaking the silence. Immediately, the eldest son seemed startled as well, and the sword fell from his hand. The two swords lay crossed on the ground, while the spilled wine on the table reflected the terrified face of the eldest son. This was followed by the Duke of Lu's rebuke: "Kuo, what are you doing?" The tall boy collapsed onto the ground, his expression dazed, tears flowing from the corners of his eyes. "Kuo, kneel before me! How dare you point your blade at your brother! Do you still know and remember the ritual of Chou?" Indeed, ritual of Chou teaches that there is an order between elders and juniors; although the elder brother has inheritance rights, he should protect his younger brother. No one expected that what was meant to be entertaining swordplay would nearly turn into fratricide.
Prince Ji Kuo cried even harder, while his brother took out a handkerchief and bent down to wipe away the tears from his elder brother's eyes. However, with one kneeling and the other bending forward, it didn't feel like a brother caring for his brother, but rather like the younger one condescending to his pitiful elder brother. Unfortunately, the younger brother had his back to me, or I would have been very curious to see his expression at that moment.
"Enough, everyone withdraw!" King Xuan of Chou finally put an end to this farce with his decisive words. But was it really over? The serving maids began distributing wine and meat, and the sounds of knives cutting meat and cups clinking covered up the previous unpleasantness. It was as if nothing had happened.
After the banquet ended, we left with Uncle, the Duke of Zheng. Father and Uncle Duke of Zheng walked side by side, while my cousin Ji Gongsheng and I walked together. Several carriages passed by us, including a decorated carriage. Gongsheng told me: "Look, that's the carriage of the Duke of Qi's daughters, the princesses of Qi." I was somewhat confused: "Oh, the princesses of Qi?" Gongsheng said, "Didn't you notice the young ladies standing beside the Duke of Qi at court earlier? They are quite beautiful." I shook my head, "I didn't notice. I was only watching the sword dance. Their carriage is indeed beautiful." As we spoke, the wind blew aside the curtain of one of the carriages, revealing two beautiful young ladies curiously peering out. Gongsheng continued: "See, those are the people from Qi in the east. Our mothers also came to Chou Yuan (in present-day Shaanxi) in such decorated carriages when they married. I too want to marry a beautiful wife from Qi in the future." I looked in the direction he pointed, and saw a young lady smoothing her bangs, smiling at us. We were leading our horses, while they sat in their carriages—so close, yet so far. Her eyes were like water, like morning dew, eyes that could smile, speak, and beckon. I suddenly understood an ancient romantic poem that spoke of "a lovely maiden, across the waters." Those waters were not actual waters, but the tenderness in a maiden's gaze. If possible, I truly wished time could have stopped at that moment. They passed by in the wind, and I couldn't distinguish whether it was the autumn flowers' fragrance or the rouge scent from the maiden. How I wished I had eyes that could take photographs, to capture this moment forever!
"By the way, the sword dance today was truly spectacular. Do you know who those brothers were?" Gongsheng's voice pulled me back to reality. "Is the elder brother called Ji Kuai? What about the younger one?" I shook my head. Gongsheng said, "The younger one is Ji Xi . But that elder brother is such a disgrace, crying in public after just being scolded! And he's my royal relative too, how embarrassing!"
"What are you two talking about?" Uncle Duke of Zheng stopped ahead of us. "We were just discussing the sons of the Duke of Lu," Gongsheng replied. "Hmm, that sword dance was truly unusual," said Uncle Duke of Zheng. Uncle Duke of Zheng always spoke with such profundity; he was a quintessential politician. How does one evaluate whether someone is a politician? First, they interrupt others' conversations at opportune moments; second, their own words are always impeccable yet full of deeper meaning. For instance, Uncle Duke of Zheng interrupted Gongsheng to remind him not to casually comment on people from Lu in front of the Qi carriages, but what did he mean by "unusual"? I couldn't guess at the time.
Father said, "They have gone far away now, it's just us." Uncle responded, "It seems it is indeed unavoidable." I knew that the Duke of Zheng must be referring to the war with the Jiang Rong (a nomadic tribe). I was curious though—at the banquet, the King of Chou's plan was clearly rejected by the Dukes of Qi and Lu, so how could they so confidently declare this war unavoidable, as if they could predict the future? Father said, "But the waters of Lu run deep!" Then, turning to me, he said, "Kai, take out my silk cloth and show it to your uncle." It seems my little actions never escaped Father's notice, though I hadn't realized that the piece of silk had been prepared by Father in advance.
Uncle took the silk fabric and looked at it. "This is the old history of Lu that you copied? I'm afraid our King of Chou lacks the resolve and courage of the founding king!" After saying this, Uncle struck a flint to produce a flame and set the fabric on fire. Then, with a deep sigh, he said, "It's hard to say, hard to say. Take good care of Kai—if war breaks out, you people of Chin will be the first to bear the brunt."
The conversation between the two dukes was full of court politics and secrets. Even burning the silk fabric was part of this: to prevent others from knowing the contents of their conversation, keeping everything solely to oral transmission. It's worth noting that in Chinese history, historical knowledge was limited to the nobility. There is a traditional saying, "Using the past to serve the present," meaning that past history can be used by later generations to inform and realize present reality. However, I couldn't fully understand their conversation at that time. It wasn't until many years later that I realized their "unavoidable" referred not only to the war with the barbarian tribes of Jiang lineage but also to a civil war in Lu—a war over the ducal position of Lu that would erupt in the future. Indeed, once a sword is unsheathed, it cannot be resheathed; this is the intent of the sword. And in this currently true conflict, the role of the King of Chou would be completely different from that of the founding king of the past.
Yes, history may rhyme, but it never simply repeats itself.
Meanwhile, in the palace of the King of Chou, King Xuan's anger had accumulated to the extreme. He shouted at the Flower Eunuch: "Go and find out what the Duke of Lu means by this!" The Flower Eunuch answered submissively, "Yes, Your Majesty." He then wrote something on a piece of silk paper and attached it to a carrier pigeon. Two pigeons flew in different directions: one toward the distant Qi State in the east, the other toward the hotel palace where the Duke of Lu was staying in Chou Yuan. This must have been transmitting some top-secret instructions to spies embedded among the Duke of Lu's entourage.
Indeed, in the Chou Kingdom two thousand years ago, King Xuan had a very sophisticated network of spies to control the dukes and commoners. This system had reached its peak during King Xuan's father's time. Legend has it that in that era, people dared not speak on the streets, nor greet acquaintances when they met, communicating only through eye contact. King Xuan inherited this system.
The pigeons flew into the sky, carrying their secrets. One flew to the Duke of Lu's window, where its message was retrieved by a mysterious person. We cannot see that person's face, but we can hear the Duke of Lu angrily rebuking in the adjacent room: "I told you not to make trouble! Especially you, Kuo! Don't you know that as an elder brother, you should yield to your younger brother? You fool and coward! This trip to the capital was meant for you to enter the academy and properly learn the ritual of Chou!"