Summoned

By evening the crowd had more or less gathered at the fork of the official road south of the Huai River. No one lit a fire to cook; on every side there was weeping. Brother Qi was not weeping. He only sat on the ground clutching his sheep and would not let go, blood still dripping down his face, and the others did not know what to do with him either. Old Liu San had gone straight to the middle of the column the moment he arrived—no telling whether to ask after his own family or to find someone to treat his mouth. And this was one where the robbery had been stopped. What of the others—those who had not stopped it, and those who had tried and failed? From what he could gather, nearly eight boats in ten had wounded aboard. There really were dead men thrown into the river, and there were violated women as well, but given the time and the place, surprisingly few; by comparison, the women carried off came close to the number of the dead. Livestock and movable goods had been swept clean, and it was said that only at Liu Ren Gong's end had a few chests, seven or eight head of livestock, and a few dozen bows and blades barely survived. How could they not weep? Sitting there, Liu Cheng felt his chest tighten, so he rose to wander about outside a while. But once he was out, the weeping filled his ears even more; some of it drew nearer, and was little short of wailing, so that a man could hardly stay on his feet. The only thing of any worth was the whispering: some wanted to turn back, some wanted to leave the column and go on alone, some wanted to gather the able-bodied men and abandon the women and children, and some thought Liu Zhi's household was too useless and that they should find some powerful family to attach themselves to. There were even those who wanted to slip downstream to Huaiyin and report to the authorities?! It was plain from listening that the government troops' systematic plundering on the Huai that day had brought this refugee column to the edge of collapse. The edge of collapse rather than outright collapse, because these people now found themselves in the position Liu Cheng had been in when he first transmigrated: for all their schemes, there was in truth no one to rely on but one another and Liu Ren Gong, and nowhere to go but onward. But it was truly dangerous now. He made a circuit, only to piss in the woods, and when he came back there were several more people in the old spot. Old Wang had come stumbling along the official road and stopped only at the sight of familiar faces. Now he sat motionless with his granddaughter in his arms, and the child did nothing but cry. Seeing them, Liu Cheng felt a prickling discomfort all over, and there was nothing he could do about it. Reason told him he had already saved one person… A useless outsider, in this body, had already saved a person and a sheep. What more could be asked? In that situation, if he had been aboard one of the big boats, he could not have saved even a sheep. Besides, the thing was done; the whole column was like this now. What good was inner discomfort? Rather than keep scattering pointless sympathy, he had better think about whether an old man with a child could last the rest of the road. As for the further future—in a world like this, if he could work his way up to manor lord before long, perhaps he might go on caring about these people; but if he could not gain wealth and standing in time, the little sympathy that pricked him now would likely be worn away. "A Chen? A Chen?" He was still lost in these tangled thoughts when someone called from nearby, along with a flicker of firelight. The voice sounded somewhat familiar, and at first Liu Cheng paid it heed, but on second thought he knew only a handful of people here; since this was not someone he had recognized at once, and the name being called was wrong besides, it could not be someone looking for him. Then the man walked close, and it turned out to be Old Liu San, his mouth beaten swollen, who had come back and was calling for him. "What is it, Third Grandfather?" Liu Cheng hurried forward to steady him. "Lord Ren wants to see you." Old Liu San's mouth was swollen and he was gasping for breath. "Come with me, quickly." Liu Cheng was startled, but said nothing more and followed him. There were still several campfires here, and a good many people gathered. Liu Huzi was among them, circling between the fires, unable to contain his fury. Word was that his riding horse had been ferried across with the other livestock and the whole boatload taken clean; only seven or eight animals had been left, allotted according to the head count of his household's core male members. By comparison, his father Liu Zhi and his two elder brothers, Liu Sheng and Liu Pei, merely looked dejected; they sat cross-legged together by the centermost fire, unable to hide their dismay. Old Liu San made the introduction, and Liu Cheng stepped forward and gave a careful salute. In the firelight the refugee commander raised his head, seeming to want to smile, but he could not; instead he sighed. "Your surname is Liu?" "Yes." Liu Cheng answered with his head lowered, and so did not see the strange look on the other man's face. Liu Ren Gong paused a moment, pointed at Old Liu San, who stood to one side covering his mouth, and went on: "I have heard from Brother San of the East Enclosure about what happened on the boat today. If you killed, then you killed; it was handled cleanly, and it was to save a life besides. You need not be afraid." "Yes." Liu Cheng kept his head down. "There is only one thing I would ask you. Brother San said you were young, and I did not believe it before; now that I have seen you, I am puzzled. How is a boy your age so bold as to kill so readily?" Liu Ren Gong asked gravely. "And to have thought it all through so neatly, so quickly?" Everyone around turned to look as well. This, in fact, was why Liu Zhi had sent for Liu Cheng. He certainly would not be called to account, but a thing like this inevitably invited some examination—had not even the companions he rescued looked at him with alarm and doubt? "I will hide nothing from Lord Ren." Liu Cheng finally raised his head and answered in a clear voice, though he kept his hands clasped in salute. "This youngster was puzzled too: why did so few people resist? Thinking it over, it must be that Lord Ren has sheltered everyone so well in the villages that they have been kept from ever seeing blood. As for me, this youngster actually fled from the north in the confusion after Shi Hu's death. I fled first to my old home in Qiao Commandery, but the place was already ruined and I could not stay, so I came here to Pengcheng and was taken in…" "Fled from the north, you say?" Liu Zhi was visibly startled. "That explains it." "I told—told Brother Hu about this," Liu Cheng said, and turned to look for Liu Huzi. Only after a full turn did he realize the other was standing right behind him, staring at him. Quick on his feet, this one! "Yes." Liu Huzi blinked, thought it over, then simply nodded. "Father, I questioned him back in Pengcheng. He said he was of our clan, that our branch had lived in Qiao Commandery only three generations, and that his father and grandfather had gone north in the troubles; he had just escaped back alone." "Of our clan, truly?" Liu Zhi's voice rose noticeably, but he hesitated at once and finally asked, slowly: "Your father and grandfather… never mind! Since you come from the north, do you know how the imperial army fares there?" "This youngster is young and does not know the larger situation, but from what I have seen myself, things do not look good." Liu Cheng answered at once, giving an answer that did rest on some logical inference but was mainly meant to fob off the question at hand. "Not good, truly?" The great clansman of the Huai region could not help shaking his head. "Well, let it pass! We will not speak of that. Let me only repeat the old saying: when a man of your surname comes a thousand li to seek you out, he is as good as blood kin—and all the more so when he is of your own clan. So set your mind at ease and stay; we will sort matters out once we reach Jingkou." Well now—his progress in falsely claiming the Pengcheng Lius had taken a real step forward. At the very least, a proper pillar of the great clans, and a refugee commander besides, was willing to acknowledge him. Liu Cheng was naturally grateful and hastened to bow again with clasped hands. "Thank you, Lord Ren, for taking me in." Having got this far, by rights he should have stopped while he was ahead, but after hesitating a moment, Liu Cheng kept his hands clasped and spoke again: "Lord Ren, since you have taken me in, there is a matter I should not hide from you…" And with that he gave a rough account of what he had observed that evening. When he had finished, before Liu Zhi could speak, his youngest son Liu Huzi burst out indignantly: "I said so! If we did not fight on the river today, we would lose the people's hearts sooner or later, and you all had to hold me back! And these people—we were not the ones robbing them. Why do they not resent those government troops instead of blaming us? It is just as this what's-his-name said: Father, you have sheltered them too well. If not for your protection, they would have died north of the Huai long ago! How would they even have crossed the Huai?" Liu Ren Gong was silent a while. Only after his youngest son had finished venting did he look at the youth before him, who was about that son's age. "Then… then what does A Cheng think? What should we do?" "Reporting back to Lord Ren, this youngster thinks Brother Hu is quite right," Liu Cheng said earnestly. "These people are resentful and grieving, but in truth they have nowhere to go and can only keep on toward Jingkou; and there is no one else to rely on but Lord Ren. So in the end they will follow us. What I fear is that one or two more incidents like this will spark internal strife and set them killing one another. By then it will no longer be a question of whether the column holds together—the harm will reach us!" "They would not dare!" Liu Huzi shouted. "What A Cheng says makes sense." Liu Ren Gong thought it over seriously and grew grave instead. "Scattering does not frighten me; internal strife does. If our own kinsmen are hurt, how are we to march?" "Reporting back to Lord Ren, this youngster has a suggestion that might be of some use." Liu Cheng did not wait for a fitting moment but stated his idea outright. "Could we gather up everyone in the column who is good at weaving straw sandals, make them one large group, and settle them here with Lord Ren?" Liu Ren Gong stared blankly, and no few of those nearby who had caught a few words looked dumbfounded too—especially Liu Huzi, whose sidelong glare all but lit up. No, wait. They had been speaking of possible internal strife, of people's hearts. Everyone had just suffered a systematic plundering on such a scale: so many dead, so many wounded, so many stripped of every scrap of goods; every one of them was sick with worry, afraid of a fight breaking out among their own, afraid of being plundered again by government troops. How had they suddenly come around to straw sandals? What did straw sandals have to do with any of it? "Reporting back to Lord Ren, the reasoning is this." Liu Cheng spoke unhurriedly, as though he had already worked it out on the way here. "To avoid internal strife, first we must move as fast as we can—especially now that we have no baggage. Traveling light, we go faster; the sooner we reach Jingkou, the sooner we are safe. And the government's grain is issued by distance traveled, not by the date, so the faster we go, the sooner the grain comes…" "True enough!" Liu Zhi's eldest son Liu Sheng, who had charge of the grain and had not spoken until now, suddenly cut in. Liu Cheng turned and bowed slightly to Liu Sheng, then went on, to Liu Ren Gong himself: "Second, Lord Ren, you must hold as much as possible of what is essential within the column—only then can you keep things steady. There are many such essentials: grain, firewood, guards. Straw sandals look insignificant, but they are as necessary to the road as grain; without them no one can walk, and with them people can walk fast. And holding the sandals is far easier for people to accept than holding the grain or using force; it will not stir up trouble." The refugee commander before him was plainly weak of temperament, but he was no fool: halfway through the latter part he had already grasped it, and at the last sentence he nodded outright. "You are right. This thing is essential, and the beauty of it is that no one will care if it is gathered up. It can be done." "Reporting back to Lord Ren, when this youngster was learning to weave sandals he made a point of sounding out more than half the sandal experts in the column, and they ought to be put to work for Lord Ren. Please let me assist Third Grandfather in gathering them quickly." As he spoke, Liu Cheng pointed at Old Liu San, who stood blankly to one side. "And we can also gather up those in the column who lost kin, had kin carried off, or were themselves wounded in today's plundering. They can help collect and hammer straw, cattail and reeds on the one hand, and on the other it keeps them apart, so they cannot stir up feeling in the column." "A good idea." Liu Sheng nodded at once and looked to his father. Liu Pei nodded as well. "Since we are of the same clan, of course we must support one another. You have both the will and the reasoning, so let it be done." Liu Ren Gong smiled at last and settled it on the spot. "From now on you will assist me here alongside Brother San, handling nothing but the column's straw sandals." The youth's spirits lifted at last—the thing had gone through so easily. In his last life he had worked nine to nine, six days a week, into his thirties before making department manager; in this life, a dozen-odd days had brought him this far. Who could say this was not a heaven-sent head start? Never mind how Liu Cheng, quick to press an advantage, seized the chance to become exalted management in a refugee column; never mind how, new to his post, he could not wait to go looking for people that very night for the sake of his performance. Let it only be said that after he hurried off, Liu Ren Gong's close associates could not help discussing this memorable youth. "Father." By the fire, Liu Huzi had finally stopped venting and now seemed rather bored and at loose ends; ignoring the crowd around them, he asked outright, "Is this Liu Cheng really of our clan? Could he be an impostor?" "Why do you ask?" Liu Ren Gong had been staring into space and only came to himself at the call. "I think there is something strange about him…" Liu Huzi shook his head. "He does not seem like the child of a proper household." "Strange is right—and he is indeed not from a proper household." Liu Ren Gong sighed. "The moment he spoke, I knew…" "How do you mean?" A little curiosity stirred in Liu Huzi. "He calls himself 'this youngster' and answers me with 'reporting back'… 'Youngster' is a base term; no proper family of ours would use it, and no one says 'reporting back' either. But 'report' and 'back' each means the right thing; strung together, we still understand him. Is that not strange?" Liu Ren Gong explained, gazing at the fire. "Yet if you consider that he grew up in the north and his speech was shaped by the Hu, then it comes out just right." "Oh." Liu Huzi half understood. "So he was not lying?" "No. And when he says our branch moved to Qiao Commandery three generations back and that his father and grandfather went north, what that really means is that they were carried off by the Hu and bent themselves to serve them," Liu Ren Gong went on. "With Jie Zhao in the state it is in—the imperial army faring badly—their own house must be crumbling too. Naturally he would conceal it. And since he came here alone, his father and grandfather must be of unknown fate; that is why I deliberately steered away just now and did not ask about them. I feared that at his age he could not hold up under it, in face or in heart." "'Unknown fate'—is that not just dead?" Liu Huzi said scornfully. "Father might as well say it straight out." "A Hu, you must have some care for others' feelings, or you will offend people without even knowing how." Liu Ren Gong shook his head again and again. "But none of that is why I am certain he is of the great clans…" "Do you mean he is capable, Father—killing so neatly, and knowing to use sandal-weaving to draw people in?" Liu Zhi's eldest son Liu Sheng roused himself to put in a word. "Not that either. Ability could be something a bondservant learned from his master… I mean that he knows propriety." Liu Ren Gong answered his eldest son with his mouth, but his eyes stayed on his youngest. "When your Third Grandfather came over from the East Enclosure earlier, he said it too: this so-called youngster, in the column, will bow and thank even a widow two or three times over, and he has given offense to no one high or low. Did you not hear that?" "Does that not make him more like a bondservant?" Liu Huzi plainly did not follow. "Look at me, Father—I am rude to everyone… it is the household bondservants who bow to me." "And now that is an accomplishment, is it?" Liu Zhi was half dead with anger. "Bondservants always respect those above and bully those below. I have never seen a bondservant who privately keeps his manners with women and children beneath him—even with widows. That is clear proof he is not one." Liu Zhi's second son Liu Pei nodded, having worked it out. "As for why he is so careful and bows to everyone, I fear it is because he grew up among the Jie Hu in the north and has now lost his family." Liu Huzi finally understood, but only mocked: "Even so, his position now is worse than a bondservant's. When we reach Jiangnan and people ask, 'Your father and grandfather bent the knee to the Jie Hu'—whether he tells them or does not dare to, I doubt they will grant him rank or enter his name on the gentry register. Without great-clan registry he gets no office. Alone as he is, with no property and no kin or old friends—will he not just be a refugee on the white register?" "He is of our clan, after all." Liu Zhi was quite helpless before this youngest son of his. "Appearances must be kept up, or when we reach Jingkou, how will others see us? And never mind that—every Liu under heaven, even if not of the Pengcheng clan, all trace back five hundred years to the Han imperial line. What is there to quibble over? Be kind to people wherever you can; it will be of use someday." The father's earnest counsel got nothing from the likes of Liu Huzi but a careless nod.