Chapter Seventy-Four: Xu Kang Borrows the North Wind

In the Eastern Han Dynasty, calculations were based on the lunar calendar: after the fifth month had passed, midsummer had already arrived.

At the beginning of the month, Xu Kang was not anxious. He would occasionally go up to the sacrificial altar to pay his respects to Feilian, offering incense and a bowl of wine. But as the days slipped into the latter part of the month, with only ten days remaining until June and still no sign of wind, even Lu Zhi and Huangfu Song—who had always placed their faith in him—could no longer sit still.

They came to question him at once.

“Yide, we have been preparing for so long. All the sacrificial offerings are ready. When will you call upon the wind?”

“Yes, the army’s provisions are running low, and in the city, the food stores of over a hundred thousand citizens are nearly depleted. There is no sign of reinforcements from the court. If we cannot summon the wind, our situation will become dire!”

Though Xu Kang felt anything but confident, he had no choice but to act as if he was in complete control.

“Haha, Master, Uncle, you need not worry. I have long since made preparations. Starting today, I shall purify myself and burn incense. At most, in five days, I will ascend the altar and call upon the wind!”

His intention was to first put Lu Zhi and Huangfu Song at ease, then wait a few days to see if the wind would come. If not, he would rely on his newly established force of five hundred well-equipped heavy cavalry to break through by force.

After all, even without a master butcher, one can still eat a pig with bristles.

But Lu Zhi and Huangfu Song knew nothing of his true thoughts. Trusting him as they did, upon hearing his promise to call the wind within five days, they both breathed a sigh of relief.

Huangfu Song immediately set about preparing the five sacrificial animals and other offerings for Xu Kang's ritual, while Lu Zhi arranged for maids to assist Xu Kang in bathing and to light incense burners, filling the room with curling smoke.

Though the fragrance was not particularly pleasant, it was certainly choking.

Within less than an hour, Xu Kang’s eyes were red from the smoke, and he had to find an excuse to escape to the courtyard for fresh air.

It was midday, the sun stood high in the sky, but unlike usual, a faint, rainbow-hued halo appeared around it. At first, he thought he was seeing things from sitting too long in the bath and being overwhelmed by the incense. But after lunch, during a stroll in the courtyard, he saw the halo was still there.

This time, he took heed.

Though he had little knowledge of astronomy, he remembered his teacher once explaining in class that most changes in weather have their signs. Just like the old saying goes: “When swallows fly low and snakes cross the road, heavy rain is soon to come.”

The sky was cloudless and the air was dry—not the least bit like rain—so he wondered if this might be a sign that wind was coming.

With this suspicion, he spent the entire afternoon observing the weather’s changes. At dusk, he made another discovery—a radiating sunset, red and blue.

Normally, he would never have noticed such details, and even if he had, he might not have understood their meaning. But now he dared to make a bold guess.

“Damn it, the wind is definitely coming—probably in the next day or two. Tomorrow I’ll check again to be sure.”

His guess was spot on. The next afternoon, a breeze finally arose—just a faint puff, but it filled him with confidence.

By the third morning, the halo around the sun grew even clearer. Xu Kang, decisive, donned a black Daoist robe embroidered with phoenixes. Accompanied by Lu Zhi, Huangfu Song, and Zhu Yi, he proceeded to the city’s altar.

At Huangfu Song’s command, a dozen soldiers, dressed as Daoist acolytes for the occasion, brought golden-roasted offerings to the altar. Lu Zhi himself lit the incense burner, then ordered the soldiers to sound the horns.

The low, sonorous notes of dozens of ox horns rang out. Xu Kang, sword in hand, wore a solemn and focused expression.

“The altar is sacred and the rules are as firm as mountains. All guards of the altar, you are forbidden to leave your posts, to whisper, to speak carelessly, to act startled, or to let your minds wander. Disobey—and you shall be executed!”

As his voice fell, the soldiers at the front of the altar sounded the horns again, while those stationed around the altar struck their drums with all their might.

Boom, boom, boom, boom…

In the midst of the drumbeats, Xu Kang raised his sword, pointing it to the east, south, west, and north in turn, then drew a circle above his head before slowly thrusting it forward, all the while murmuring incantations.

“Soldiers in formation, arrayed before me. Most Exalted Lord, by your urgent decree!”

With the incantation complete, he took a cup of wine from a tray held by an acolyte behind him, drank it, then spat two full mouthfuls onto his sword before continuing his sword dance.

This time, instead of circling, he began to trace the figure eight.

After the eight, he traced the nine, then started again from one, drawing figures as he chanted:

“Eating grapes without spitting out the skins, black fertilizer turns gray and evaporates, gray fertilizer evaporates and blackens; damn it, why hasn’t the wind come yet? Are you forcing me to dance ‘Pure Land of Bliss’?”

At this point, he simply plunged his sword into the ground and let himself go.

“As the moon rises, red lanterns are lit. The ritual music is a secret signal, luring the night moth to flutter forth. Elusive, disdainful glances probe and measure—once caught, escape is impossible. Since we’re here to revel, welcome to the Pure Land of Bliss…”

He hummed and danced, his black Daoist robe billowing in the wind, leaving Lu Zhi and Huangfu Song utterly dumbfounded.

By the time they regained their senses, they were astonished to discover—the wind had arisen!

At first, it was just a gentle breeze, but it steadily strengthened. By dusk, it had reached its peak, whipping the banners and sending the incense smoke streaming southward from the altar.

Upon seeing this, Huangfu Song shouted in excitement.

“The wind... the wind... the wind is rising! It’s the north wind! The north wind, hahahaha...!”

Lu Zhi and Zhu Yi, though silent, were no less moved. Exchanging glances, the two strode from the altar to issue orders to the messengers.

“March!”

“Yes, sir!”

At the command, a thousand light cavalrymen bearing torches mounted their horses and charged out the city gates, heading straight for the Yellow Turban camp ten li to the south.

Within moments, thick, rolling smoke began to rise to the south.

Seeing this, Huangfu Song, Zhu Yi, and the others leapt onto their horses and shouted,

“Today we shall break the bandits and win our glory! Sound the drums—advance!”

The thunder of the war drums erupted at Huangfu Song’s command, louder and more urgent than those on Xu Kang’s altar.

As the drums thundered, Huangfu Song and Zhu Yi led the charge out of the city gates, thousands of soldiers at their heels, raising clouds of dust in their wake.

Lu Zhi stood atop the city wall, watching the soldiers gallop forth, his face alight with irrepressible excitement.

“This battle... the Yellow Turbans are doomed!”