Chapter 87: Matters of Family, State, and the World
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Cao Peng’s study was immaculate, hardly resembling a boy’s room at first glance. Even with servants tidying behind, a boy’s quarters inevitably bore some disorder. Yet Cao Peng’s study defied this expectation.
Nestled in a corner of the fortress, the study was perched on elevated ground, backed by Long Mountain. Two rows of wing rooms were built along the slope, forming a unique semicircular shape. Behind lay the mountain’s natural bounty—lush green hills and clear waters; on the other side, a row of fences.
Facing the fence and the verdant landscape stood a modest dwelling—this was Cao Peng’s study.
It was said that this fortress once belonged to a powerful lord from Xu County. After taking the wrong side in a political dispute, the lord offended the ruling elite, was falsely accused of colluding with the Taiping Dao sect, and his entire family was executed. The fortress remained abandoned until Cao Cao relocated the capital to Xu County, when it was brought back into use.
Overall, the fortress was well-constructed, imbued with a scholarly aura. The study was undoubtedly the fortress’s most distinctive building. Cao Peng chose it not only for its advantageous location and expansive view but also for its refined elegance, perfectly aligning with his personal aesthetic.
The two rows of wing rooms housed Wang Mai, Deng Fan, and Xiahou Lan. At this moment, Xiahou Lan was stoking the fire in the furnace, so the courtyard was unusually quiet. Dian Wei led Deng Ji through, with Xun Yu following behind. Xun Yu had originally intended to check on Cao Ji’s sword-making progress but seeing Dian Wei’s urgent demeanor, he refrained from pressing the matter. After all, they were still within the fortress—where to go first was inconsequential. Besides, Xun Yu was curious about what could have caused Dian Wei’s agitation.
“Shusun, is this your brother-in-law’s residence?”
Stepping into the courtyard, Xun Yu immediately sensed an extraordinary atmosphere.
The study was spacious, with a couplet written on either side of the entrance. The upper line read: “The sounds of wind, rain, and reading, each sound enters the ear;” the lower line: “Family matters, state affairs, world events, all things concern the heart.”
Originally penned by Gu Xiancheng, leader of the Donglin faction during the Ming dynasty, the couplet had been shamelessly plagiarized by Cao Peng.
To be honest, the calligraphy was ordinary, nothing extraordinary. But the content was profound. Xun Yu paused before the couplet, silently contemplating for a long time. The art of couplets, it was said, originated during the Later Shu period of the Five Dynasties, over seven hundred years after the late Eastern Han. Yet Xun Yu found endless subtlety in this small piece, difficult to articulate.
Couplets rely on parallelism.
This literary form emphasizes symmetrical balance, quietly resonating with China’s yin-yang duality.
The Book of Changes says: “The Way is the union of yin and yang.”
The Xunzi’s “Discussion on Rites” states: “Heaven and earth combine and all things are born; yin and yang merge and transformations arise.”
The Huang-Lao silk texts explain: “The Way of heaven and earth has left and right, yin and yang.”
Placed in later times, couplets might be mere cultural tradition, but how many truly understand their meaning? The couplet pairs left and right, upper and lower lines, yin and yang in harmony. Half a couplet alone bears little significance, but together, infinite mysteries emerge, like the turning of yin and yang within the cosmos.
Xun Yu, being a learned man, was naturally familiar with yin-yang theory.
At first glance, he paid little heed to the couplet’s words. Taken separately, the lines were plain, almost vulgar, unworthy of notice. Yet united, he could not help but admire the composition.
“Shusun, who wrote this?”
Deng Ji scratched his head, somewhat embarrassed.
Having stayed in Xu Du for some time, assisting Dian Wei with the Tiger Valor Army’s affairs, he was not well-informed about happenings within the fortress.
Pausing before the couplet for a moment, he whispered, “Judging by the handwriting, it seems to be Afu’s.”
He, too, was learned enough to recognize the couplet’s sophistication, especially its pairing—wind opposed rain, home faced state, ear matched heart—particularly the repeated characters, evoking the clear sound of reading aloud, worthy of applause.
Could this really be Afu’s work?
If not for the handwriting, Deng Ji would never have believed it was Cao Peng’s. The reason was simple: Deng Ji knew Cao Peng well. Back in Deng Village, Cao Peng seemed illiterate, many characters still taught by Deng Ji. Yet now, judging by the cleverness of the couplet’s diction, Deng Ji confessed he could not match such brilliance.
“Wind’s sound, rain’s sound, reading’s sound—each sound enters the ear!”
Standing before the couplet, Xun Yu murmured to himself. His gaze shifted to the lower line: “Family matters, state affairs, world events—all things concern the heart—what spirit, what ambition!”
Xun Yu applauded.
Dian Wei, however, could not perceive these subtleties. He was anxious to examine what Cao Peng had left behind.
“We’re here; let’s go inside and talk.”
With that, he strode into the study, followed swiftly by Xun Yu.
By now, Xun Yu no longer saw Cao Peng as a mere boy but as a prodigious talent, brilliant and gifted.
He feared Dian Wei might accidentally damage something inside. They entered the empty study and saw a writing desk facing the window. Upon it lay a stack of bamboo tubes and a pile of hemp paper, covered with sketches and writings.
Apart from these, the room held no other furnishings.
Xun Yu turned to Deng Ji, silently asking why there were no books here.
Deng Ji smiled wryly, stepped over, and picked up a scroll.
“We arrived in haste, and there were few books here to begin with. Even the two volumes Afu usually recites were gifts. I have some collections, but Afu shows little interest in criminal law or statutes, so he rarely pays attention to my books.”
Xun Yu took the scrolls, unfurled one each of the Book of Songs, the Analects, and the Book of Documents.
What truly surprised him was a small inscription in the corner: “Lumen Mountain?”
He looked up at Deng Ji. “Shusun, is your brother-in-law a disciple of Lumen Mountain?”
Deng Ji nodded, then shook his head.
“Afu had the chance to become a disciple there but offended the Huang family of Jiangxia and was forced to flee Nanyang. It’s unlikely he’ll have the opportunity again.”
To be esteemed by Lumen Mountain was no small matter—this boy was indeed extraordinary.
Yingchuan was a place steeped in academic atmosphere. Though many noble families resided there, its scholastic environment was excellent. The Yingchuan Academy was revered by scholars during the late Eastern Han. Early advocates of the Partisan Prohibitions, such as Li Ying and Chen Fan, hailed from Yingchuan Academy, as did Xun Yu and Guo Jia.
In comparison, the private school of Lumen Mountain was more exclusive, its reputation famously associated with the two Pengs. Xun Yu was well aware of its renown and regarded Cao Peng with newfound respect.
“What are these things?”
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Dian Wei suddenly roared loudly.
He held a stack of hemp paper, upon which strange figures were drawn with some unknown tool.
“Let me see?”
Curious, Xun Yu thought that if Cao Peng was valued by Lumen Mountain, his writings should be extraordinary.
The drawings, made with charcoal, depicted rows of small human figures.
The figures formed various formations—some appeared to be marching, others standing, and some—Xun Yu could not quite discern.
After examining all the diagrams, Xun Yu remained puzzled.
However, on the last page, dense charcoal script filled the margin.
Cao Peng wrote: Since the Tiger Valor Army recruits brave warriors from various units, their courage need not be doubted. The key is how to forge them into a fighting force in the shortest time. Qin Feng once said, “Holding your hand, I repair my spear and halberd.”
On the battlefield, what matters most is not individual valor but collective combat effectiveness.
Mutual coordination, trust among comrades, and a sense of honor within the group—these may sound abstract but are vital. Without trustworthy comrades, who would dare turn their back to another in battle?
The Tiger Valor Army’s greatest problem was that its members came from disparate groups, unfamiliar with one another, lacking trust and honor.
Therefore, Dian Wei’s first task was to meld these men into a cohesive team that believed in each other.
Next, discipline must be absolute—advance in order, retreat without panic. Here, Cao Peng cited a phrase from Sun Tzu’s Art of War:
“Swift as the wind, quiet as the forest, aggressive as fire, immovable as a mountain.”
According to Cao Peng, if Dian Wei could train the Tiger Valor Army to this standard, they could easily defeat ten times their number of Tiger Guards.
Xun Yu looked up with a half-smile at Dian Wei.
“Wenruo, are you mocking me?”
“Why would I mock you?”
Dian Wei huffed, “Desperate times call for desperate measures—seeking advice from a child.”
Xun Yu laughed heartily, “Junming, I’m not laughing at you, but at your lack of insight.”
“How so?”
Xun Yu said no more, handing the manuscripts to Deng Ji.
“Shusun, explain it to him.”
Deng Ji took the papers, turned to the last page, and carefully explained Cao Peng’s words in simple terms.
Dian Wei’s eyes narrowed, a radiant smile spreading across his face.
“So, this can work?”
“You can try. If you don’t want to, give it to me and I’ll have someone else test it.”
“Nonsense—”
Dian Wei immediately grew anxious, snatching the papers back, tucking them under his arm, eyes wide and fierce as he glared at Xun Yu, “These are mine!”
His childlike expression made Xun Yu laugh even more.
“Junming, no one’s fighting you for them—but if you really manage to train elite troops this way, our lord will surely come calling.”
“Heh, for now, they’re mine.”
Xun Yu shook his head and stepped outside. “Afu’s ideas are quite sound. When you train, you’d better consult him more. This boy has many ideas and is truly exceptional. Also, bring along Shusun—I think he’s better at training troops than you. At least as your strategist, he’s more than capable.”
Dian Wei nodded eagerly, like a chick pecking grain.
“Let’s see what young Cao can do, then go experience what big Cao’s methods are.”
Unconsciously, Xun Yu’s way of referring to the Cao family had changed significantly: Big Cao and Little Cao.
Deng Ji heard this and chuckled.
Exiting the academy, the three headed toward the furnace shed.
Just then, a man hurried in from outside the fortress. “Shusun! Shusun—bad news! Afu and the others got into a fight.”
“Ah?”
Deng Ji was startled, looking closely to recognize the man as Deng Juye.
Deng Juye looked disheveled, with tattered clothes and a dark bruise on his face.
Dian Wei’s anger flared immediately.
“Who’s the bastard causing trouble?”
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This bastard was no ordinary troublemaker.
After escorting Zhang Shi and Cao Nan to Xu Du, Cao Peng, Dian Man, and the others headed westward.
In ancient times, doctors generally fell into two categories.
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One kind were itinerant physicians. Many such doctors were charlatans with no real skill. Of course, there were exceptions, like the renowned Hua Tuo, who traveled to improve his medicine and gain experience. Others sought to meet the powerful for advancement.
The other kind were resident doctors, usually settled in one place running clinics.
These had some reputation and social standing locally.
As the imperial capital, Xu Du naturally had many famous doctors. Physicians from Luoyang and Chang’an flocked here, seeking greater fame.
Cao Peng accompanied Zhang Shi and Cao Nan to a clinic in western Xu called Huichun Hall.
The resident doctor there was Xiao Kun, a short, stout man in his fifties, with half-black, half-white hair. He spoke slowly with a strong Guanzhong accent. Originally from Chang’an, he fled with the Han emperor to Xu Du and settled quickly. No one in western Xu was unaware of Mr. Xiao Kun, a specialist in gynecology.
“Mother, sister, you stay here with the doctor. Brother Aman and I will go buy some things.”
Zhang Shi nodded and waited with Cao Nan inside the clinic.
Dian Man pulled Cao Peng aside.
“Afu, I’m taking you somewhere you’ll like.”
“Where?”
“Heh, you’ll see when we get there.”
Cao Peng had thought to buy some daily necessities but was instead led into a large courtyard.
Only then did he realize it was a dog fighting arena—well, more accurately, a dog fighting ground.
The dogs were mostly Shar-Pei, a breed from Guangdong’s Nanhai region.
In the late Eastern Han, these dogs were called Dali dogs or fighting dogs, introduced from the south and gradually favored by the aristocracy in the Central Plains as a form of sport. Their loose skin made them less vulnerable to bites, ideal for dog fighting. Though in later times many breeds competed, and Shar-Pei was not especially prominent, Cao Peng had seen far bloodier dog fights in his previous life, nothing like this.
Still, Dian Man was clearly enthusiastic.
Two Shar-Peis fought fiercely in the ring, their bodies drenched in blood.
Noble sons shouted and cheered excitedly, clearly thrilled.
“What do you think?”
“Pretty ordinary,” Cao Peng admitted.
“Aman, I’m really not interested in this. Why don’t you stay here and play, and I’ll go buy some things—see you back at the clinic?”
“What to buy? Just give me a list and I’ll send someone. Afu, this scene is rare—many fighting dogs here. Interested in a bet?”
Cao Peng shook his head, observing the shouting crowd with a faint smile.
These people sure loved to gamble—but then again, entertainment in the late Eastern Han was scarce. Beyond a few diversions, people’s amusements mostly revolved around making children. Rising with the sun and resting at dusk sounded wholesome, but it was more a sign of material scarcity.
Gambling was human nature!
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Wait, if I—
A strange thought suddenly crossed Cao Peng’s mind.
If I did this, might it not be a way to make money? Relying solely on Dian Wei’s protection was no long-term plan. Living as a dependent was difficult; over time—even if I promoted my father—I’d still need funds for connections.
Who dares say no one under Cao Cao’s command is greedy?
At least, he knew of one person reputedly quite avaricious.
Yes, if I were to go into this business, cooperation with that person might be necessary. Given his status and background, it shouldn’t be too hard.
However, persuading him would be no easy task.
Cao Peng also worried that if the business took off, the other party might seize the assets. Even in a later era of rule by law, such things were common, let alone in the chaotic late Eastern Han. As for the market—Cao Peng was not too worried. The red-eyed, shouting, and gambling aristocrats at the dog fights spoke volumes.
This matter required careful planning.
Lost in thought, Cao Peng nearly missed Dian Man’s soft exclamation.
“Huh?”
He looked up to see Dian Man tilting his head, muttering, “What bad luck—why is he here too?”
“Who?”
Following Dian Man’s gaze, Cao Peng saw a youth about their age near the dog fight enclosure, shouting excitedly. The boy was broad-shouldered and thick-waisted, resembling a fierce tiger. Slightly shorter than Dian Man, his arms were unusually long, lending an awkward appearance.
Sensing their gaze, the boy turned, his narrow eyes like venomous snakes.
Seeing Dian Man, he froze momentarily, then wore a strange smile and approached them.
Dian Man whispered, “That guy is the tiger cub of the Xu family!”