Chapter 11 – Eighty-Eight Slain (1/2)
Part 1
The second month, the twenty-third.
Chang’an.
Before dawn.
The sky was a dead gray color, as was the ground. The magnificently constructed ancient city of Chang’an had not opened its gates yet.
Old Huang and Ah Jin, who were responsible for opening the gates every day, had slaughtered a pig last night, and pooled their money to buy a big bottle of baijiu and a heap of flatbreads. Having drunk and eaten to their hearts content, they could barely crawl out of bed in the morning.
Dereliction of guard duty and failure to promptly open the city gates, were both punishable by “Immediate Decapitation.” (1)
Military Law remained as immovable as a mountain. So when Old Huang got up and realized that he was already thirty minutes late, he began sweating in fear. Before he had even finished buttoning his padded coat, he was outside opening the city gates.
“The weather is so cold, there probably won’t be anyone waiting to get into the city.”
He comforted himself as he fiddled with the great lock of the main gate. He opened the gates a crack and nearly died from fright.
Outside were seventy or eighty people, all dressed sharply, all the way down to their layered leg-wrappings. They wore ghost-head swords strapped to their backs, and their heads were wrapped with white cloths, on top of which were sewn streps of mottled reddish fabric.(2) Each person wore an expression that matched the day’s weather, and emanated murderous auras which would cause anyone to have goosebumps.
As soon as the gates opened, the people separated into two groups and quietly entered the city, the blood-red tassels on their swords fluttering in the wind, the white cloths wrapping their heads shining, the edges of their blades glittering.
Their blades were not sheathed, because they didn’t carry sheaths.
—Who were these ferocious men? Why had they come to Chang’an?
Old Huang the city guard stood in his position. Initially he planned to question them, but now his tongue had grown stiff and he couldn’t even speak.
This was because at that moment a man walked to the front. He dressed in a bear-fur garment, and he stared at Old Huang with a pair of bloodshot eyes. Even though he seemed somewhat emaciated, his cheekbones protruded proudly, and his eyes were as sharp as a blade. He had an awe-inspiring presence, like a wild beast that had just emerged from the deep mountains.
White cloth, sewn with a patch of mottled reddish fabric, held back his unruly hair.
The only person dressed differently was a thin, handsome young man who carried a long, narrow bundle, wrapped in black cloth, gripped tightly against his body.
Old Huang grew weak at the knees. Anyone who saw such a murderous group would certain feel consternation.
“Do you want to question us? Where are we from? What are we doing here?”
The man’s voice, though hoarse, carried a majestic and spirited air.
“Listen, and listen well. I am Zhu Meng. Zhu Meng of Luoyang.” In a stern voice he continued, “We have come to Chang’an to die.”
Part 2
Zhuo Donglai’s face showed no emotion, and even now looked as if it had been frozen, every single muscle. If you have ever seen a dead person frozen in ice, perhaps you can imagine the expression on his face.
A young man, not yet twenty, stood in front of him, as straight as a javelin. The expression on the young man’s face was almost the same as Zhuo Donglai’s.
This young man’s name was Zhuo Qing
He wasn’t always surnamed Zhuo. He used to be surnamed Guo. He was the brother of Guo Zhuang, who died in the Red Flower Bazaar.
But after having been adopted by Zhuo Donglai, he forgot about his old name.
“Zhu Meng has entered the city.”
He had reported this news, and he had also been the one to discover the medicine flowing down the gutter.
Recently, the tasks he had accomplished for Zhuo Donglai far exceeded those of any of his other trusted subordinates.
“How many men came?”
“Including Gao Jianfei, there are a total of eighty-eight.
“Did he specifically tell Guard Huang that he was Zhu Meng?”
“Yes.”
“What else did he say?”
“That they had come to Chang’an to die!”
Zhuo Donglai’s pupils constricted, as if they had become awls.
“They didn’t come to Chang’an to kill someone? They came to Chang’an to die?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Very good.” The corners of his eyes began to pulse. “Extremely good.”
People who knew Zhuo Donglai knew that only when circumstances were extremely critical would the corners of his eyes pulse in this way.
They pulsed because he knew that his opponent had not brought eighty-eight men, but rather, eight hundred and eighty.
—People with murderous intent are not to be feared, but people prepared to die are. They are worth as much as ten.
“Tell me again what they wore.”
“They dressed well, and had leggings. They wore white bands, and sewn onto each band was a torn strip of reddish cloth.”
Zhuo Donglai laughed coldly.
“Good. Extremely good. Do you know where those pieces of cloth came from?”
“I don’t.”
“They are definitely Cleats’ bloodstained clothes. When he died, his clothes were most certainly died red with blood.”
People from Luoyang had already returned and reported to Zhuo Donglai all the details of the bloody battle.
“The Lion Clan was like a sheet of shifting sand, unable to unite. But Cleats’ blood brought them together again.” Zhuo Donglai’s voice suddenly seemed to contain some emotion. “Cleats. Very good. What a good kid.”
“Yes,” said Zhuo Qing. “Cleats might not look very good, but they are cheap. They usually aren’t as good as other types of shoes, but when it’s raining or snowing, or the road is muddy and slippery, they are most useful.”
He spoke in a very flat tone, because he was simply describing a fact.
He was not the type of person to be easily moved by emotion.
Zhuo Donglai stared at him, stared for a very long time, and then did something that no one would ever have expected him to do.
He suddenly stood up, walked over, and embraced Zhuo Qing. Even though it was a very light embrace, it was the first time in his life he had ever done something like this.
—Other than Sima Chaoqun, it was his first time to get close to any other man.
Even though Zhuo Qing still just stood there like a javelin, hot tears filled his eyes.
It seemed Zhuo Donglai had not expected this reaction. He suddenly changed the topic. “Zhu Meng knows where I am, but he hasn’t come looking for me yet.”
“Correct.”
“Considering that they came here to die, I really must accommodate them. I must go looking for him.”
“Yes.”
“But these eighty-eight men have embraced death in their hearts. Eighty-eight men of one mind, one spirit. They are suppressing this spirit of death, but it may break out at any moment, it won’t be easy to hold back.”
“Correct.”
“So I won’t go after them right now.”
“Yes.”
Zhuo Donglai’s awl-like pupils suddenly filled with a ruthless and uncanny smiling air. “Do you know how I will deal with them?” he asked Zhuo Qing.
“I don’t.”
One word at a time, Zhuo Donglai spoke, in his unique tone. “I’m going to treat them to a meal. I want to have a welcoming banquet for them tonight at ‘Chang’an’ Restaurant.’”
“Ok.”
“You must go invite them for me.”
“Very well.”
“Zhu Meng might not accept. He might think it’s a trap. But,” he said coldly, “I’m sure you can think of a way to convince them to go.”
“Yes,” said Zhuo Qing, “they will go. They definitely will go.”
“And I hope you can come back alive.”
Zhuo Qing’s reply was simple and resolute: “I will.”
Part 3
Upon returning to his room, Zhuo Donglai found Die Wu combing her hair.
She ran the comb through her long, pitch-black hair, over and over again. It seemed as if there were nothing in the world she wanted other than to comb her hair.
Zhuo Donglai watched her quietly, watched her run the comb through her hair again and again.
Two people, one comb, one person watching. A long time passed and then suddenly a snapping sound rang out as the comb broke into three pieces.
This comb was a high quality product of the “Jade Square” in Liuzhou. Even if you tried to twist it with two hands, it would be difficult to break it.
Women usually treasure their hair, and would never use force when combing it.
But the comb had indeed broken.
Die Wu’s hands began to tremble. They trembled so much so that she couldn’t even hold the remaining piece of the comb in her hand. It clattered to the dressing table.
Zhuo Donglai didn’t see.
It seemed as if he didn’t see any of these things.
“I’m treating some people to dinner tonight,” he told her softly. “Two honoured guests.”
Die Wu looked at the broken pieces of the comb on the dressing table, looking as if she were beginning to go crazy.
She laughed crazily, and then said, “Every day I have to treat myself, because everyone has to eat, even someone like me. Eat a bowl, then eat another bowl, I eat so happily.”
“I want my guests to eat happily today, too,” said Zhuo Donglai. “So I want you to do something for them.”
“Whatever you want me to do is fine.” She laughed unceasingly. “Even if you want me to go and eat shit, I’ll comply with your wishes.”
“Well that’s excellent, then.” Zhuo Donglai was also laughing, and his laughter seemed to be filled with joy. “Actually, you should know what I want you to do for them.” Oh so slowly, he said, “I want you to dance for them.”
“The treasured sword is ruthless, Zhuangzi dreams no dreams;
Dance for the king, transform into a butterfly.” (3)
Part 4
The most famous eatery in Chang’an was called “Chang’an Restaurant.” The most famous teahouse in Chang’an was also called “Chang’an Restaurant.” But Chang’an Restaurant and Eatery and Chang’an Restaurant and Teahouse were completely different.
“Chang’an Restaurant, definitely not easy.”
To start such an eatery or teahouse like these was definitely not very easy.
Chang’an Restaurant Eatery was in the west of the city. Its gardens and parks were spacious, the cutlery elegant. Amidst the luxuriant flowers and trees were ten pavilions, each floor of each pavilion decorated resplendantly. The quality of the food was the highest, garnering ceaseless praise.
Chang’an Restaurant Teahouse was in the city center, on one of the most flourishing and bustling streets. Prices were reasonable and business was good. And whether one was drank tea or alcohol, or ate food, the portion sizes were good, and would definitely not leave anyone feeling like they had been taken advantage of.
So early every morning, customers from every walk of life would fill the establishment. (4)
That was because in addition to food and drink, you could enjoy many other forms of entertainment there. You could see bizarre people and run into old friends. Maybe the woman sitting at the table next to you, drinking tea with her husband and child, would be your lover from years before. Perhaps sitting in the corner, unwilling to raise his head, was the debtor you had been searching for for so long.
If you didn’t want to be found, this was not the place to go to.
And so Zhu Meng went there.
He wasn’t scared of being found; in fact he was waiting for someone from the Great Protection Agency to come looking for him.
No one was willing to ask him, “Why did you come here. Why don’t you just kill your way into the Great Protection Agency?”
Zhu Meng had his reasons.
—Chang’an was the Great Protection Agency’s base of operations, and was filled with experts. Even more fearsome were Sima Chaoqun’s and Zhuo Donglai’s martial arts. So of course they waited patiently for their enemy to arrive, having planted themselves in a favorable position.
“We’re here to defy death, not deliver ourselves to it. We may have to die, but we don’t have to die a meaningless death.”
—When fighting a formidable opponent, relying only on courage was not enough.
“We must be patient, rely on ourselves, endure any humiliation to accomplish our mission.”
—Die Wu, will you really dance for others?
Zhu Meng tried as hard as possible not to think of her.
Even though Die Wu’s movements when dancing could etch themselves indelibly into one’s memory, they had already been diluted by Cleat’s red blood.
He had sworn an oath, not to let Cleat’s blood be shed in vain.
No one drank.
Their emotions aroused, their fighting spirit ignited, there was no need to rely on alcohol to provide stimulation.
The teahouse had over a hundred tables, and they had occupied thirteen of them. Earlier, the teahouse had been packed, but as soon as they appeared, more than half of the customers had fled.
After seeing the blood red tassels on their blades, the white cloths on their heads, the murderous expression on their faces, everyone could tell that these strangers were not here to drink tea.
They were here to drink blood.
The blood of their enemies.
Zhuo Qing arrived alone.
When he entered the teahouse, they didn’t notice him, because they had no idea who he was.
Only Little Gao knew.
This young man had left a deep impression on Little Gao, but it seemed Zhuo Qing didn’t recognise him. He entered the teahouse and walked directly up to Zhu Meng.
“Are you the Clan Leader of the Lion Clan from Luoyang?”
Zhu Meng suddenly lifted his head and stared at him with two bloodshot eyes. “Yes, I am Zhu Meng. Who are you?”
“Your young servant is surnamed Zhuo.” (5)
“You’re surnamed Zhuo?” asked Little Gao, shocked. “I seem to remember you weren’t surnamed Zhuo before.”
“Oh?”
“You used to be surnamed Guo. I remember very clearly.”
“I don’t remember,” said Zhuo Qing coolly. “I’ve forget the past very quickly. Things that should be forgotten, I won’t think about.”
He looked at Little Gao calmly, his face completely expressionless. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to learn from me a bit. Maybe your life would be a bit happier.”
—It is often at the most inappropriate time that people will recall things they shouldn’t recall. This is one of the greatest agonies.
—Was Little Gao now thinking about that woman?
He suddenly wanted to have a drink.
Just as these thoughts entered his head, Zhu Meng laughed. He turned his head up and laughed wildly. “Well said!” In a loud voice he ordered, “Bring wine! I want to drink three large bowls of wine with this well-spoken young man.”
“Your young servant doesn’t want to drink right now,” said Zhuo Qing. “I can’t accompany you.”
Zhu Meng’s laughter suddenly ceased, and he stared at him with a predatory look. “You don’t want to drink and you don’t want to accompany me?”
“Correct, I don’t want to drink. Not even one drop.” Zhuo Qing didn’t even blink. “When your young servant wants to forget something, he doesn’t need to drink alcohol.”
Zhu Meng shot to his feet. The teapot in his hand shattered. “You really won’t drink?”
Zhuo Qing’s expression hadn’t changed. “If the Clan Lord wishes to kill me now, it would be as easy as turning over his hand. But to get me to drink would be as difficult as climbing to the heavens.”
Zhu Meng suddenly laughed heartily. “You’re a good kid. You have guts. You’re surnamed Zhuo, is it the same Zhuo as Zhuo Donglai?”
“Yes.”