Chapter Sixty-Four: The Death of the Tiger General

May 24.

In the blink of an eye, more than half a month had passed.

Black Dragon Mountain quickly regained its flourishing scene, as if that disaster had never happened.

The village soldiers no longer toiled in the fields; now they ate three meals a day and trained endlessly.

But Liu Chengzong could not witness this prosperity, for his father had confined him.

He ate and slept in the ancestral hall every day, facing the memorial tablets of his ancestors, reading the "Comprehensive Mirror for Aid in Government," ten volumes each day.

At this rate, optimistically, Scholar Liu would keep him locked up for a month.

Pessimistically, he might have to finish all two hundred and ninety-four volumes, only to be sent more books afterwards.

This was his father's punishment for pillaging Wang Manor.

Master Liu believed the raid on Wang Manor was a grave matter, one beyond remedy.

But lessons must be learned from past mistakes, so the family executed clan law upon the three main organizers of the raid.

Liu Chengzong gathered men, selected targets, planned the operation, and bore the title of Tiger General as the leader of the band.

His punishment was confinement in the ancestral hall, reading the "Comprehensive Mirror for Aid in Government" under the supervision of his ancestors, so he might gain wisdom, think deeply, and act with foresight.

Liu Chengzu, who filled in the gaps and commanded the troops, completed the task.

His punishment was to care alone for six wounded border soldiers, sharing hardship as a lesson that moving troops brings sorrow.

All village soldiers who participated or concealed the matter were sentenced to transcribe three times the "Record of Military Practice and Soldier Training."

His uncle’s case was different; literate himself, his punishment was to teach the village soldiers above him to write and recite, and to copy the full text of the "Record of Military Practice" ten times.

Cao Yao’s punishment was self-inflicted. Master Liu hadn’t assigned him a task, but he insisted on joining, claiming he too was a bandit leader and deserved punishment.

As a result, he was sent six oxen and fifteen refugee households, along with surrendered banner troops, to Old Temple Village to farm.

Despite this, Liu Chengzong lived quite comfortably these days—eating well, drinking enough, reading by day, and exercising in the ancestral hall’s courtyard. His health improved greatly.

This day, he was fiddling with stone locks in the courtyard.

Liu Xiangyu strode into the ancestral hall, his steps light, smiling. “How goes your reading?”

“Great.”

Liu Chengzong put down the stone lock and bowed, then reported, “In three days more, I’ll finish the Chronicles of Tang.”

“Hmm, not slacking off,” Liu Xiangyu smiled, eyes narrowed. “What have you learned?”

“One must be obedient, but also wary of everyone.”

Liu Xiangyu was stunned by this answer, then replied, “It’s wise to be cautious of others; that’s why I had Captain Cao supervise the surrendered banner troops. But obedience?”

Liu Chengzong answered earnestly, “Toward the end of dynasties, emperors ignored, rejected, and dismissed ministers’ advice. But those who founded empires, like Emperor Gao of Han, were receptive—Xiao He advised him to take Bashu and secure the Three Qin, and he readily agreed; Han Xin urged marching east, and the emperor was overjoyed.”

Liu Xiangyu asked, “Why do you think advice was so well received at the beginning and so poorly at the end?”

“Those who braved wind and rain and cut through thorns gave advice without empty rhetoric; those who risked arrows and stones to establish the foundation had no fear of ministers usurping power.”

Liu Chengzong finished, smiling, “Unlike the last rulers born in deep palaces, stubborn and self-willed, unable to draw on the strengths of others, always hesitating—making any decision was like fighting a hundred rounds with themselves first.”

Liu Xiangyu was caught off guard; he’d expected his son to speak about the art of ministerial advice, but this clever child considered things from the emperor’s perspective.

A bit embarrassed, he thought to praise him anyway—the answer was excellent.

“No wasted effort—tidy up the ancestral hall. When you’re out, keep studying,” Scholar Liu said, turning to leave, laughing, “Ha, your brother worked with you quite well.”

Liu Chengzong was surprised, then realized, “Ah? I—I can leave?”

“Go ahead. The Tiger General is dead; there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Hm?”

Only now did Liu Chengzong realize his father’s confinement wasn’t just to make him study.

It was also to keep him from running about, exposing his identity.

Before he could ask further, Liu Xiangyu explained the whole matter.

The Prince of Qin’s manor, located at the intersection of three counties in Yan’an Prefecture, was isolated from news.

Its damming of the river caused drought downstream, leaving villagers displaced.

It wasn’t until the seventh day after the manor was pillaged that word reached Yan’an Prefecture.

By the time the government troops arrived, Wang Manor had been visited by several waves of starving peasants; even doors, windows, and tables had been dismantled for firewood. Nothing remained.

But there are no walls that never let wind through. The government troops captured a few villagers and easily pinned suspicion on the Tiger General who suddenly appeared to deliver grain.

The Tiger General’s trail was hard to follow; he delivered grain unpredictably, left no traces on the roads, and even when they found a cave, it was empty.

Just as the government troops were about to give up, a clever fellow in Ganquan County used the Tiger General’s name, gathering hundreds of starving peasants to raid the homes of wealthy families.

His rise and fall lasted only two days; he was defeated in three battles by the roving General Li Bei sent from Yan’an, pursued for one hundred seventy li, and finally beheaded.

So now the Tiger General was dead.

Li Bei gained merit, Yan’an Prefecture had a head to present to the Prince of Qin, the villagers received relief, and Liu Chengzong was freed from the ancestral hall.

Everyone was happy.

Except for the unfortunate impostor.

“Tch, that Prefect of Yan’an has no sense of gratitude. I even delivered grain for him,”

Liu Chengzong, carrying the stone lock behind his father, grumbled, “He calls for a punitive expedition just like that!”

“By the way,” Liu Xiangyu turned at this, “I never asked you—why did you deliver grain to Yan’an Prefecture twice? And you pushed grain carts all around the outskirts of the city?”

Twice?

All around the city?

Liu Chengzong shook his head blankly, “I only delivered grain once, handed over a note, and had Song Shouzhen write a letter.

Besides, I only distributed grain along Panlong Creek and Peony Creek’s villages—running all over would be exhausting, and the grain couldn’t be hauled back anyway.”

He paused, then realized, clapping his hands, “It must be those two—Dad, didn’t I tell you about Chuang Tatian and She Tatian?

Most likely, they did the same thing; someone had the same idea as me, so the government received grain twice.”

Liu Chengzong’s heart thumped, “Could it be one of them impersonated me and was executed by the troops? Maybe it was She Tatian.”

“Why not Chuang Tatian?”

“Dad, look—false names are meant to hide identities.

I’m not a general, so I called myself Tiger General; Chuang Tatian is scholarly, so he used that name.

Only She Tatian, his name was probably invented on the spot—he’s broad-shouldered and strong, obviously skilled with a bow, so he borrowed my name…but he didn’t say he was from Ganquan.”

Liu Xiangyu considered carefully—it was possible.

But he didn’t mind. Seeing Liu Chengzong still holding the stone lock, he said, “Put the lock down, go home and change. Wear the official attire the county gave you—we’re going to the prefectural city soon.”

“To the city? What’s happened?”

“Relax, nothing to do with you.”

Liu Xiangyu said, “The new Inspector-General of the Three Frontiers has taken office. Bandit leaders Wang Er died in Shangluo, Wang Daliang in Dashichuan, and Zhou Dawang of Jiezhou is dead as well.

The new Inspector Yang wants all regions to join forces against Wang Zuoguai. Yan’an Prefecture is mobilizing troops; I hear Wang Zuoguai has entered Yellow Dragon Mountain and will likely return empty-handed.”

Liu Chengzong was startled, “Dad, how do you know so much?”

“If you can associate with bandits, am I not allowed to gather news from officials?

I also know that the actual Banner Troops in Yan’an Guard number only one thousand nine hundred and twenty.”

Master Liu twirled his beard and instructed, “The prefect’s office is summoning us scholars with honorary titles—probably to raise grain. Just be careful with your words.”