CH 77

When they returned home, it was already past noon. After washing his face and hands, Liang Feng switched his hunting attire for ceremonial raiment. These were robes that titled nobility wore during ceremonies and sacrifices. The robes were of a severe cut, black without embroidery, and rather regal in appearance. Wearing ceremonial raiment and a black silk crown, he brought Liang Rong to the ancestral shrine.

In the Han Dynasty, it was popular to build ancestral halls to the left of the tomb, making a competition out of whose was most extravagant. As the practice didn’t conform to etiquette, it was banned by the Jin Dynasty, and only nobles were allowed to establish ancestral shrines. The Liang family had one as well, of course. They were allowed to use “lesser sacrifices,” sheep and swine, to honor their ancestors. The offerings, having already been prepared, were brought to the altar along with the five grains and the animals caught during the earlier hunt. 

Though there weren’t many people in their family, they still had to carry out the ritual in full. After paying homage to their ancestors, the mountains, and the five deities, the sun was already descending in the west. It was time for the final stage of the End of Year Sacrifice.

Wearing his stately, restricting ceremonial outfit, Liang Feng went to the peripheral courtyard. A tall platform had been erected below the watchtower. Standing there, was a person of tall stature who, draped with bearskin, dressed in red and black, concealed by a ghastly yellow mask with four eyes, wielding a long spear in one hand and a sturdy shield in the other, was like a malevolent spirit haunting the human realm.

That was the fangxiang-shi, the main officiant of the Nuo ritual. Beside him, there were twelve children who, acting as zhenzi, their hair tied in two buns and wrapped with red cloth, clad in black, holding rattle drums, represented the twelve zodiacs. At the outer edges, twelve servants, bearing horns and torches, stood solemnly.

After scanning the people within the courtyard, Liang Feng gracefully ascended the watchtower and declared, “You are the Great Nuo, harbinger of the new year, who banishes all evil!” 

Thereafter, low horns and heavy drums sounded in unison. The fangxiang raised his spear and shield and began a frenzied dance, one that looked like he was engaged in fierce battle with some unknown demon. The zhenzi shouted in rhythm with his movements, “Nuo! Nuo!”

This was a chant meant to scare away evil spirits. The dance was primitive, the chant was simple, but there was an austere graveness in the unrefined crudity; simply for the reason that the ones performing the ritual weren’t clowning swindlers. They performed the ceremony to drive away calamity and pray for fair weather. All of the participants held respect and worship in their hearts and believed in the significance of their duties. Naturally, it would give rise to a kind of awe-inspiring energy.

As the drums and horns gradually grew to almost deafening volume, all the doors opened. In the main residence, the farmsteads, the serfs’ quarters, even the faraway gatehouse, all the doors were thrown open. After circling the courtyard, the fangxiang danced away with the zhenzi. They would follow the path, pass by every house and home, sweeping away their misfortune and miasma, banishing disaster and disease. Everyone stood reverentially beside their open doors as if they were welcoming true deities.

This was no easy task, but the fangxiang, burdened with a heavy spear and shield, didn’t pause for a single moment. He ran past fields, strode through courtyards, all the way to the gatehouse. The sky was dark already. The twelve torches were handed to cavalrymen waiting by the gate. After taking the torches, they immediately rode off into the distance. They only had to hurl the torches into the river, and all the evil would be carried away by the water.

Soon, the sparkling firelight vanished out of sight. The thundering music stopped. A faint cheering arose. It spread further and further, grew louder and louder. It was almost like the entire estate was singing as one. In this era, firecrackers didn’t exist, much less a fixed Spring Festival salute, but this grand Nuo ritual was more festive than any salute.

Hearing their joyous cries and shouts, Liang Feng let out a long breath, “Begin the feast then.”

After the great Nuo ritual was a great banquet. Every family had prepared all their best dishes and an abundance of food. It wasn’t much, perhaps, in ordinary times, but it was rare in drought-stricken Bing Province. In the Liang Estate, every household had been given a kilo of horse meat, and the soldiers had just come back with their kills from the hunt. They had surplus grain, dried jerky, and a master that staved off disease and disaster for them. What more could they ask for?

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Tired out from the day’s activities, Liang Rong sat at the table, looked curiously at the raw meat on the plate and the broth in the pot, and asked, “Dad, are we going to eat raw deer?”

Uncooked meat, known as raw, has been eaten ever since antiquity. It was as the saying goes, “grain is never too fine, raw is never too thin.” Meat that was thinly sliced and eaten uncooked was all referred to as “raw.”

Liang Feng chuckled, “Winter is a poor time to consume raw meat. Simply dip the venison and vegetables into the soup, and it will be thoroughly cooked in short order. Eating it hot this way is more appropriate.”

Having never eaten this way before, Liang Rong immediately perked up. But, since his father hadn’t touched his chopsticks yet, he too could only stare avidly at the broiling broth. A moment later, there were footsteps outside the door. He craned his neck and saw the Jie man with weird eyes walk in. 

Why was he here? Liang Rong unconsciously scrunched up his small eyebrows. The two adults paid him no mind.

Upon entering the room, he bowed in salute, “My lord, the fires have been thrown into the river.”

Liang Feng nodded, “Thank you for all your hard work in the Nuo ritual today.”

The person who’d acted as the fangxiang was Yiyan himself. He’d had to haul around a hefty spear and shield as he shouted and made rounds throughout the estate. One could only imagine how tiring it was – not to mention that Yiyan had killed a leopard just that morning. 

“To pray for my lord’s fortune, it was nothing.” Yiyan’s forehead was still dripping with sweat, but his eyes were firmly fixed on the person before him. He’d already removed his formal ceremonial raiment and donned his customary casual wear. But no matter whether he wore hunting attire, ceremonial raiment, or casual robes, he was beautiful all the same. His lord had brought him hunting, ordered him to perform the Nuo ritual; was there anything more important than being trusted?

Used to the way Yiyan looked at him, Liang Feng smiled, “Sit down and have dinner with us.”

“Thank you, my lord!” Yiyan instantly sat himself at a table to the side. Didn’t being invited to dine with his lord after the grand Nuo ritual mean that he was considered a family member?

Liang Rong’s eyes widened. His dad was letting a Jie person sit with them? Why didn’t this guy go join the soldiers? Why did he have to intrude on his and his dad’s family dinner? But his excellent upbringing prevented him from saying any of that out loud or doing anything other than clenching the rim of his sleeve. 

Liang Feng hadn’t forgotten about Liang Rong. He said to Zhaoyu, who’d been standing at attention, “Don’t let Liang Rong serve himself; bring the meat to his bowl for him. And don’t use too much garlic oil, or it’ll get too spicy.”

After issuing those instructions, he addressed Yiyan, saying, “You can serve yourself. Dip the meat in the cauldron and let it simmer for a moment. It’s done once it turns a whitish color. If the flavor isn’t strong enough for you, you can add some garlic oil.”

Those two taken care of, Liang Feng eagerly reached for the sliced venison with his chopsticks and held it in the boiling broth. It didn’t take long before it curled. He fished the slice out, lightly dabbed it in garlic oil, and put it in his mouth. The meat, which had been cut from the fattiest cut of venison and soaked in ginger juice and rice wine, wasn’t gamey at all. It melted into a pleasant, savory flavor the moment it touched his tongue.

Having hotpot in the winter was truly wonderful. Liang Feng nodded in satisfaction, looked up, saw that both the big and small one were staring at him, and laughed, “It’s a bit unconventional, but the taste is not bad. Hurry and have some.” 

Catching a glimpse of Liang Feng’s red, glistening lips, Yiyan couldn’t help swallowing a mouthful of saliva as the nameless fire in his belly enflamed a ravenous thirst. He picked up a chunk of meat and started eating hotpot. Liang Rong side-eyed the Jie person’s non-existent dining etiquette and glumly dug into the sliced meat that Zhaoyu served him. Two bites later, he thought blissfully that it was the best meat he’d ever tasted; he glanced admiringly at his father.

His dad really knew how to do everything! There were also a lot of little eggs in front of him; his father must have prepared them specially for him. If only that Jie person weren’t here, everything would be perfect.

Both happy and dismayed, the small child ate his delicacies with a heavy heart.

※ 

Sima Ai strode into the palace, wearing not armor, but black ceremonial robes. Even though Luoyang was besieged, even though they had fought for months on end, the End of Year Sacrifice had to be held. In fact, with the emperor acting as officiant, it would pacify the commoners in the city at least somewhat.

After their last victory, the forces of You Province had begun to attack Chang’an. Zu Ti’s method was brilliant after all. Provincial Governor Liu Shen was magnificently talented, and he was loyal to the empire. If the Prince of Hejian felt threatened enough to recall Zhang Fang, they would be one step closer to victory.

Thinking of his brother from another mother, Sima Ai clenched his fist unconsciously. Ever since killing the Prince of Qi, Sima Ying had become ever more recalcitrant. He wasn’t content to control the court from afar in Ye City anymore; he wanted to kill the empress’s father and Huangfu Shang. For this goal, he could even ignore the fact that the Prince of Hejian had tried to assassinate him. Was he any different, then, from the late Princes of Qi and Zhao?

The court had been embroiled in conflict for decades already, kindling the fires of war and disrupting the common people’s lives. If only the court could regain imperial power and the devotion of the bureaucrats, they could save this crumbling civilization. Yet the envoy they’d sent, Wang Yan, was still unable to convince Sima Ying. He would rather fight his own brothers, rather subjugate the court, than loosen his grasp on power. What would become of the emperor if he were to enter Luoyang? Could the court ever stabilize? 

He had to guard Luoyang no matter what!

Though his heart was full of worry and anger, Sima Ai sat before his desk as usual. His desk was piled with memorials from the court. He’d already ordered the palace maids to husk rice to produce military provisions multiple times. He’d already pressed all males thirteen and older into military service, issued slaves to the garrison soldiers, and forced the nobles to open their granaries. All these measures served to unite the soldiers as one, so that they would give their lives in service. Morale was decent. Luoyang wouldn’t be taken by enemy forces. They just had to defend for a little longer…

A spate of footsteps suddenly sounded noisily outside. His door was abruptly thrown open. A blood-soaked bodyguard yelled, “My lord! Run…”

Before he could finish, he was run through by a longspear. Crimson blood poured from his gaping mouth as he slowly fell to the floor. The palace doors were fully open now. Several armed soldiers rushed inside, stepping over the corpse. 

“Commander! Presently, the people of Luoyang are suffering and starving, all due to the war. I implore you to come with me before the emperor, admit your wrongs, open the city, and end hostilities!”

Sima Ai’s eyes blazed with fury as he looked upon familiar faces, “Who sent you here?!”

“The people of the city, of course!” One of the palace guards sneered, “For the commander only cares about his military merits, and not the lives of the court’s officials. Did you expect anyone to side with you?”

“Hahaha…..” Sima Ai laughed hysterically, “Do the officials think that if the Prince of Chengdu enters Luoyang, they will live? Have you all forgotten about Prince Lun of Zhao or Prince Jiong of Qi? Serving such lords will only bring about their end.” 

His laughter, filled with rage and resentment, was hair-raisingly eerie. The palace guards wavered, then charged him together and subdued him, “Please rest assured, commander. You are of the imperial clan. So long as you plead guilty before the emperor, he will surely spare you.”

Spare him? Of course the emperor would spare him. But would Sima Ying, who’d lost soldiers and generals, spare him? Would the ones who’d conspired with the palace guards to instigate this incident spare him? Why must this fine country fall to ruin at the hands of the treasonous and unjust? He’d struggled for so long, only to fall at the hands of petty little people. He couldn’t accept this!

His black headdress rolled on the ground; his stately robes were stained with blood. But it mattered to no one.

That night, Sima Ai was imprisoned within Jinyong City, in the very cold palace that had imprisoned countless Sima family members before. 

The author has something to say:

I have to say, that in the bunch of idiot Sima, Sima Ai is really not bad.

In the Book of Jin: “长沙材力绝人，忠概迈俗，投弓掖门，落落标壮夫之气；驰车魏阙，懔懔怀烈士之风。虽复阳九数屯，在三之情无夺。抚其遗节，终始可观。” (not enough brain cells to translate old Chinese; it’s basically just praise for the Prince of Changsha)

Too bad he couldn’t win against that crowd of idiot brothers.