Finding The Way Page 4

  Cousin spat into the earth then told me to get back to work.

  After a day in the field but before the evening meal, I walked to Master Xun’s mansion. A single gate was the only passage through the high walls of rammed earth that surrounded the family complex. Once I stepped through, another short wall faced me before I crossed into a quiet, square-shaped courtyard. It was the quietest place I had ever been in. There was a tranquility and calm that was distinctly removed from farms and everywhere else I had ever seen. Skirting the enclosure were numerous rooms, and an upper balcony ran around the courtyard. It was a very fancy house, even more so than the one belonging to the Warlord who once employed my father.

  A male servant led me through a sliding door which opened into a corridor that branched both left and right. I waded through a haze of smoke from incense sticks of burning cinnamon and jasmine before I came to another sliding door. I was led through it into a large room brightly lit with torches. I did not have to be told to kneel.

  I kept my eyes fixed to the ground, but I could hear people quietly shuffling in with platters of succulent smelling food. A servant named every dish as it was presented: “Bear paw soup, roast capon with chestnuts, fried carp with lotus roots, pork belly with taro, steamed baby mustard greens.” No other words were spoken, only slurping and hearty chewing. I had never smelled such pungent aromas. It was as if Nature’s bounty had been condensed into steaming wafts of rich, earthy, fruity and salty bouquets. My stomach began to growl, and I feared that it would be heard.

  The servant proclaimed some more dishes: “Fried chicken livers with fresh bamboo shoots, wood ear mushrooms in ginger.”

  Finally some words of rebuke. “This soup is not warm enough.”

  Profound apologies and begging for forgiveness followed, then more shuffling. I heard a command for more wine from a woman. The growling in my stomach intensified. At last, the eating slowed and I heard a loud burp. Master Xun ordered the dishes removed before speaking.

  “Where in Chu is your family from?”

  I listened with interest for a reply and was promptly swatted in the head.

  “The Master is speaking to you, fool,” someone whispered to me.

  “Near Li village, Master.”

  “Your accent is recognizable, but not crude. Where are your parents?”

  “My mother and father are dead, Master.”

  “How?”

  I explained what had happened to my family and how I had fled with Shun.

  “You are a boy ignorant of the world, yet earlier you spoke knowingly of matters beyond most boys,” Master Xun said. “How is this?”

  I hesitated. “Yes Master, I am just a boy, but I have seen things no child should have seen. My father told me that in ignorance one could not possibly be wise, but in wisdom one could wrongly choose ignorance. I did not understand what he meant until after he died. There was much that I did not know then. But now I see he wanted me to question my assumptions and be open to learning as much as possible.”

  “And of tilling the land?”

  “He believed that the land is like family, that it needs to be treated as such, that it has to be respected in order to be understood. He saw the land and everything on it, from the earth to the animals, to the trees and ponds and its people, as one.”

  I glanced up and saw the Master sip some wine.

  “And why should this matter?” he asked.

  “My father said fields were for either battle or food. Yet he saw what he called a rhythm, a kind of beauty that was to be honored. He said we had to keep everything in a harmonious and sustainable balance. In that way, each element of the land is shaped by its relationship to every living creature on it. Each element needs the other. He saw this as natural and necessary. Much of this I came to better understand only slowly over time.”

  I paused, awaiting dismissal from the Master. When that did not come, I continued.

  “Father learned the use of many different materials and tools while in the army. He learned to fashion them for other uses, such as for the earth. With tools that kneaded the land, our farm’s bounty always produced the greatest harvests in the prefecture.”

  “Give me an example,” Master said.

  “One device was a board that moved the soil without disturbing it too greatly. This device concentrated the force much more efficiently on the sharp blade of the plough. Such a plough, he learned, was even more efficient if an animal were to pull it.”

  “Interesting. It seems your father was born to have great ideas.”

  “Master, he never thought so. He never boasted. He also never spoke ill of anyone. He said he learned much, both through other people’s wisdom and follies. He thought wars were the mother of invention, that they forced people into times of creativity as well as madness.”

  A long silence followed. I heard some movement. I raised my head to sneak a look at him. But he had shifted his position. He was hovering directly above me.

  “And you?” he asked. “What do you think?”

  I hesitated. “Master, I think there is greatness in all of us – in people’s deeds, in their ideas. I did not know my father for very long. But I know he did not aspire to greatness. He wished to merely live his life simply. That he was a great man mattered little to him, thus I saw him so all the more.”

  “You speak as though you are a learned child.”

  I told him that each evening as the sun dimmed, Father and I would explore the forests and streams, or he would use sticks and the ground outside our hut to teach me to read and to scribe. Very quickly I learned many characters. But what Father encouraged most was how to question all things beyond their surface appearance.

  I was dismissed by Master Xun and returned to my hut. Uncle and his sons immediately followed me in. Cousin Tuo placed a lamp near my face, inspecting me for evidence of a beating.

  “He is unscathed,” Cousin Tuo said after looking me over.

  “What did the master prick want?” Uncle asked.

  “To talk about farming,” I replied.

  Uncle jabbed a finger at my chest. “What does the new Master care about what you think? Why would he ask you, a boy, about farming?”

  “I do not know.”

  “Did he ask about us?”

  I shook my head.

  “Did he accuse any of us of thievery?” Tuo asked me. “What did you say?”

  I answered truthfully. Uncle spat on the ground.

  “Either the Master is playing games with us or you have become his little stoolie,” he said.

  He grabbed my shirt and pulled me up to his sweating face. I could smell fermented eggs and sweet rice wine on his breath.

  “He’s no more a squealer than you are a general,” Shun said as he entered.

  Uncle threw me towards Shun, disturbing the chickens in the process. “You two need to be taught a lesson,” he growled.

  Shun easily blocked the first few blows directed at me. This infuriated Uncle and he threatened to kick us out. Then Shun seemed to let up, allowing the blows to fall. Even if we had been able to best our Uncle and his sons, it would have been foolish to resist the wrath of our only family elder. We were quickly overwhelmed.

  “If you enjoy the Master’s company so much you can clean out his shit hole.” Uncle spat again. “His merchant nose likes crapping on a bed of pine needles. It’s no joy to clean up the shit of a snake. See to it.”

  After our assailants left, I lay on the ground, too bruised and bloodied to move. Shun tore a rag and dabbed at my cuts, then gently stroked my hair and the back of my neck. “I’ll look after Master’s shit hole, ” Shun whispered. I soon fell asleep.

  After that, Master Xun inspected our fields with greater regularity. He never paid me any more attention during his inspections, yet he sent for me several more times to discuss my father’s methods and t
o seek my opinion on matters. He even had me record our discussions. In return, I was fed well and given access to his library and scribing materials.

  Master began to draw up more strategic plans for his crop choices and their placement. He had me plan an entirely new irrigation system, all things my father had long-since perfected. Many times I returned from the Master only to find that Shun had already returned from the fields and was cleaning himself up, only to leave again. To where, he did not say. Often Uncle and cousins shared their lewd suspicions and beat me. Shun protected me when he was around, taking many of the blows intended for me. But he was often absent.

  Uncle called me all manner of things. “You filthy swine, it’s not enough that you carry on like a high-nosed noble making us look bad with your stupid ideas, but to also be the bitten peach of a merchant no less.”

  I did not know what he meant by a bitten peach and was too frightened to ask. But I would soon find out. Sensing my uncle’s displeasure with me, the other laborers pestered me throughout the day with taunts, soiling me with animal manure, overturning my seed bins, and tripping me as I carried buckets of water past them. After yet another day of misery, I returned to our hut and collapsed onto the ground. When Shun returned, I told him everything was intolerable, and yelled at him, demanding to know where he went when he left the farm.

  He lowered his head, cradling it in his hands. “Protecting,” he whispered. “I am protecting you…us.”

  “What are you talking about? I get beaten night after night and you talk of protecting me? It was safer on the run. I can’t take this anymore. It’s time to run away.”

  To my surprise, he did not disagree.

  “We don’t have to scrounge for food and hide here, and we are neither prisoners nor slaves. But we are captives of another sort.”

  He lay down beside me and for a long moment we were both silent.

  “All we did before coming here was flee and hide,” he added. “Remember the time we stumbled onto what we thought was an abandoned farm?”

  “Only to realize it was a brothel,” I smiled wearily.

  “You talked our way out of that one by pretending you were the magistrate’s junior scribe looking for the landowner who owed back taxes,” Shun chuckled. “With your sharp mind…”

  “Let’s not forget that we are here because you have the way of a gentle warrior and the cunning of a fox, a wild fox.”

  Shun held my hand. “I would prefer gentle fox and wild warrior, but thank you cousin.”

  We giggled like little boys, then lapsed back into quietude.

  He broke the silence again. “While those days are over, I miss the time we had together. Those were dangerous times. We were constantly hungry and tired, yet also masters of our own fate, bending with the wind… Yes that was a freedom I will never forget. But I also know we’re different, we’re treated differently and you especially don’t belong here.”

  He rolled onto his side and stroked my arm.

  “Just promise me something. Don’t do anything foolish. I have an idea. Just wait, okay?”

  “A plan? What are you thinking?”

  “Just trust me. You’re good at that, remember?”

  I nodded, though it disappointed me greatly that he did not share his thoughts.

  Days passed and Shun uttered not another word of his plan. The harassment continued and even worsened. I decided that there was no better idea and that I would somehow leave, though I had no plan. I awoke very early and saw that Shun had left already. One of my cousins came in and told me I had been called to the Master’s house. Because Master had done so openly and through my cousin, it meant that another miserable day and another beating would follow at the hands of Uncle and my cousins. I walked to the house and was led to the Master’s private chambers where I found him seated. Much to my surprise, Shun was also there, standing off to one side.

  “Your cousin Shun informs me you are not content here, and that you have made other plans,” the Master said.

  I hesitated at first, shooting a wary look at Shun. “Master has been most kind and I am grateful to you.”

  “You may feel that way. Your cousin here does, though no one else would agree. A merchant, even a former one such as myself, will forever be tainted as an unscrupulous money monger, greedy and not to be trusted. Anyone associated with me is similarly stained.”

  Shun looked away while the Master paused.

  “Your uncle controls all the farmers and laborers. He has threatened in veiled terms to withdraw their labor if I do not put you in your place. The conundrum is that I need them, while at the same time you have become indispensable to the prosperity of my farms. I profit well from the knowledge you have provided. You have many talents and much knowledge to offer. It will be squandered should you remain. This is not your rightful place.”

  “My Master is most kind. However, my Uncle thinks I belong…”

  “Your Uncle doesn’t think, nor does he understand where you belong. The only profession more noble than tilling the land is to be a scholar. Your cousin here proposed something that will benefit us all.”

  The Master reached for Shun’s hand which was balled into a fist, opened it and laid it on his own shoulder.

  “I have arranged for you to be taken in as a clerk by a nobleman up in the Sher valley. Like me, he is appreciative of the scholarly mind. In exchange, Shun has agreed to be my… personal advisor, on these modern methods.”

  “But…” I looked up at Shun who nodded slightly but with his eyes averted from mine. He stepped towards the Master, his arm brushing against his shoulder.

  “Master is right, this benefits us all,” he said. “But you needn’t worry, dear cousin. We will see each other again. I’ll find you, wherever and whenever that may be.”

  Then I understood. Shun, not I, was what Uncle had referred to as the Master’s bitten peach. Shun laid out a bundle of clothes, a bedroll and food all ready for my departure. Master Xun had included an ink block, some brushes and several bamboo strips. Even with all these gifts, an unspeakable emptiness prevailed within me. I looked at the bundle but could not move. Shun was the only person I had left in this world. I had assumed he would always be there for me. That was all that mattered at that moment.

  “Uncle doesn’t bother me so much. I can take it,” I declared. But the tears gave me away.

  “A cormorant is fantastic in the water as it dives for fish, but in the end, it’s still a bird on a rope. As your eldest cousin, I can’t allow you to be what you are not. Master here has given you something few are offered. And for that I am grateful.” Shun gently stroked the Master’s shoulder then gathered together the supplies.

  “You will come for me?” I asked Shun.

  “Did I not say?” He nodded and turned away, unable to conceal a heavy tear.

  I left that morning for a two-day journey to the Sher valley, feeling more alone than I ever had before, and heavy with guilt for the sacrifice Shun had made. But I expected and hoped that I would one day see him again.

  4

  Alone, Alas

  My next Master was an ambitious man who commanded much land along a fertile valley. He traded alliances and loyalties with an ease that blemished all around him. He wasn’t unlike many other benefactors I would later meet, some more shrewd, others less enlightened. Not long after I arrived, I heard that a neighboring warlord’s troops had swept through the region, destroying much of Master Xun’s farm, killing those who resisted and conscripting those who didn’t. I could not confirm if Shun was among either group and begged my new Master to release me to travel there and settle my mind. He refused. But I still had many things to live for, so this was not the time to mourn.

  After a few years I moved on again, as would be my pattern. My first desire was to return to Master Xun’s farm to look for Shun. I imagined finding him and, as we fell into each
other’s arms, he would admonish me for returning. Alas, that was mere fantasy. I returned to Master Xun’s farm and found only one of my younger cousins, a simpleton. She could tell me nothing of what had happened to Shun.

  I re-directed my loneliness and focused my mind into a ceaseless questioning of all that was about me. I saw the world’s repetitive violence and shame as a failure of leadership. I decried our incessant desire to subjugate the natural order of the world around us. Greed and a naïve belief that the world could be shaped beyond its natural proclivities were blinding us. We had forgotten the harmony with which Nature surrounds our lives; the equilibrium that heaven had given to earth and which coursed through our veins. We had ceased to see that we had all that we needed. And I had come to believe that genuine contentment, real fulfillment, was only possible with a return to these truths. I had marveled at this with my father, who lived in a manner completely in balance with all that was around him. These beliefs, these simple maxims, this possibility—these were the first steps to finding the Way.

  I refined such thoughts while finding various employments as a scholar and administrator. At times, I found an audience that would consider and even employ such beliefs. At others, I was summarily dismissed. Thus I learned discretion when sharing my emerging discoveries. Back then, questioning the existing order was even less tolerated than it is now and I was often seen as a disruptive and seditious influence.

  Discretion allowed me to find favor with some nobles and minor royalty in the surrounding lands. I served in many roles to many masters as a clerk, advisor, artist, poet, scholar and intellectual. The irony of my service is that in a period in my life when I was most intensely questioning the unnatural order of the world, I was considered particularly adept at creating order. That is to say, many a minor Royal or noble household lacked coherent administration of their records, their history and their wealth. For them, my simple and easily-devised systems of organization and management were well received.