Chapter Eighty-Five: Harmonious Resonance

"Four friends are enough," Xu Gan declared with an air of pride, casting a contemptuous glance at Wang Tang.

"Ah, Brother Wei Chang, don’t belittle yourself. Though your talents may fall a little short of Zhang, you’re still on par with me," Wang Tang retorted.

"You—!"

"Enough, enough, Brother Wei Chang, don’t take it to heart," Zhang Yu interjected with a laugh, patting Xu Gan on the shoulder. "I find Brother Wang’s nature quite amusing. It’s a delight to spend time together, so what harm is there in adding one more?"

"Amusing? He lacks real talent and virtue, only skilled at quarreling. He’s clearly just filling the ranks," Xu Gan scoffed.

"Hey! I’m talking about you," Wang Tang called to a waiting maid nearby. "Brother Wei Chang doesn’t want you to stay with us. You may go."

The other three wore expressions that said, "This child is not worth discussing," while Zhang Yu, sensing a kindred spirit, felt his own store of "talent" finally had a place to shine.

Xu Gan and his companions were scholars, men of letters, with the bearing of gentlemen and the integrity of literati. Certain jokes could not be made without restraint. But with Wang Tang, they felt free to jest as they pleased.

"How should I address you, Brother Wang?" Zhang Yu asked.

"Hehe, my surname is Wang, my given name is Tang," Wang replied.

"I know that, but I’m asking for your courtesy name."

"Uh, I haven’t come of age yet, so I haven’t taken a courtesy name."

"Don’t try to deceive me, Brother Wang. It’s fine for those of us not yet twenty to lack a courtesy name, but you—"

"Are you suggesting I look old, Zhang?"

"Not just that," Zhang replied.

"Pfft!" Ruan Yu, sitting nearby, nearly spat out his tea. Zhang Yu continued, "I had thought to ask Brother Wang to speak about the Mandate of Heaven, but it seems we’re not fated for that conversation. What a pity!"

At forty, one knows destiny...

Zhang Yu’s words landed with mischievous intent, leaving Wang Tang momentarily speechless, and prompting laughter from the other three. Yet, as Zhang Yu had anticipated, Wang Tang was the sort who could take a joke, neither embarrassed nor angry.

More importantly, he was clever. Seeing Zhang Yu’s wit outmatched his own, Wang Tang obediently went to sit beside Xu Gan.

"Today, the five friends of the bamboo grove gather for the first time in the Cai estate’s bamboo forest. This is worth commemorating. Why not compose a poem for us, Yu?" someone suggested.

"Last night I spent the whole night writing poems and haven’t recovered yet. I really can’t compose any more," Zhang Yu quickly waved his hand. He was nearing aesthetic fatigue with poetry; if he wasn’t careful, he might inadvertently produce something like ‘The Long March’ or ‘Swimming in the Water Melody,’ which would hardly suit the occasion!

"As scholars, we should concern ourselves with the affairs of the realm. Why not discuss the current situation?" Wang Can proposed, and the suggestion was unanimously accepted.

"Yu stole the show last night; now it’s most appropriate for him to lead again," Wang Can said.

"Again? No rest for me," Zhang Yu sighed.

"There must always be someone bold enough to lead, Yu. Who else but you?" Wang Can quickly added, repaying the earlier slight.

"If not Yu, then me," Wang Tang said cheerfully, sipping his tea. "Yesterday’s poetry and prose aren’t my strengths. I am known for my insight into the grand affairs."

"Is he really so famous?" Zhang Yu asked Ruan Yu, frowning.

"He’s one of the five friends of the bamboo grove; how could he not be?" Wang Tang answered for himself.

"They’ve only just been named!" everyone silently protested.

"In today’s world, Chancellor Dong Zhuo is the most powerful," Wang Tang began with assurance. "Yet Dong Zhuo, though his tyranny is rampant for the moment, is brutal and unprincipled, standing in opposition to the scholars. His downfall is only a matter of time."

His candor surprised Zhang Yu, but seeing everyone else nodding in agreement, he realized that criticizing Dong Zhuo in Chang’an was practically a daily ritual for scholars.

"In my opinion, there are but three true heroes in the world today!"

"Which three?"

"First, Liu Bei of Pingyuan; second, Cao Cao of Dongjun; third, Sun Jian, Marquis of Wucheng."

"Ahem, Brother Wang, you may not know—Sun Wentai was just killed earlier this month by Huang Zu under Liu Biao, Governor of Jingzhou..."

"Then it must be his son," Wang Tang replied.

Zhang Yu looked as stunned as a startled wooden chicken.

Wang Tang offered no further explanation, merely affecting an air of profundity and shifting the topic. Though sometimes thick-skinned and sharp-tongued, his personality made him easy to interact with, and he was soon accepted among them.

As they conversed, a servant entered the bamboo grove and whispered in Zhang Yu’s ear, "Young Master Zhang, the family head requests your presence."

"Please continue, gentlemen. I’ll be back shortly," Zhang Yu said, taking his leave and following the attendant toward the courtyard. Behind him—

"Wang Can still doesn’t understand—why did Brother Wang name those three as heroes?" Wang Can asked in confusion. "There must be some reason."

"If we’re talking about strength, Dong Zhuo is the strongest. Besides him, Liu Biao of Jingzhou has a prosperous populace and two hundred thousand troops; Yuan Shu of Nanyang has well-trained soldiers and abundant provisions, holding the foundation of a great enterprise. Yuan Shao of Jizhou, Gongsun Zan, even Liu Yan of Yizhou—each is stronger than the three you mentioned," Ruan Yu said.

"Pingyuan Liu Bei is Yu’s uncle; I have to give him some face, don’t I?"

"Dongjun Cao Cao, before stabbing Dong Zhuo, had good relations with my father and even drank at our house. I have to support him, too."

"As for Sun Jian, he held the Imperial Seal. What does the Imperial Seal say? ‘Mandated by Heaven, may you live long and prosper.’ Who knew he’d fall so quickly? But the Seal must still be with his son, so it’s close enough."

"...I am ashamed to be counted among you!"

Unfortunately, Zhang Yu did not hear Wang Tang’s explanation, otherwise he wouldn’t have been left wondering.

He walked through corridors and courtyards, traversing a quiet path, until he reached a small room. Inside, the sound of the zither floated out, enchanting Zhang Yu as he listened.

The attendant gently knocked on the door, and Cai Yong’s voice came from within, "Is that Yu?"

"It is," Zhang Yu replied, stepping forward.

"Come in," said Cai Yong.

Entering, Zhang Yu saw Cai Yong seated at the table, with elegant carved incense burners on either side, emitting a calming fragrance. The room was adorned with exquisite ancient musical instruments.

Beside him, playing the zither, could only be Cai Yan.

"Yu, listen—how is the piece that Zhaoji is playing?" Cai Yong asked.

Zhang Yu smiled and took a seat, watching Cai Yan concentrate on her playing, and thought to himself, "A woman who is serious about something is the most beautiful."

The melodious, lively notes flowed from her slender fingers, like gentle streams and soft breezes, graceful and serene, soothing and peaceful.

The melody rose and fell, deep yet bright, winding yet spirited. The zither’s sound was gentle and continuous, like a mountain spring winding through a secluded valley, slowly flowing and finally reaching the bright moon above.

Lost in the music, Zhang Yu examined the structure of the tune more closely—it seemed familiar.

"‘I wonder in which celestial palace we are tonight, and what year it might be.’" As a half-hearted lover of literature and music in his previous life, Zhang Yu pondered for a moment before saying, "‘Water Melody Song!’"

"Correct. Zhaoji composed it overnight for your ‘When Will the Bright Moon Shine’ poem," Cai Yong replied.

"For me..." Zhang Yu thought, Cai Yong, you’re not being very precise with your words.

His mind drifted with Cai Yong’s remark, and he quietly took out the jade flute he had exchanged for last night, placing it gently to his lips.

The soft flute notes rose slowly, bringing calm to all who listened.

At first, like a wispy veil floating in the stream of zither music, it danced, its sound delicate and ethereal, blending perfectly with the zither, unbroken and continuous, like heavenly music.

Then, all mundane worries faded away, the music flowed gently, the two sounds merged as one, indistinguishable from each other.

What a splendid ‘Water Melody Song’—zither and flute in harmonious duet!