Chapter Sixty-Eight: The Two Qiaos

By the riverside, two beauties were laughing and playing together.

The younger girl was slender and delicate, with glossy hair, pearly white teeth and rosy lips; her exposed skin was creamy and fair, her eyes alive with lively spirit—fresh, pure, sweetly gentle, and adorable. Her jade-like feet splashed playfully in the water.

Beside her, the elder was more mature, her long hair flowing to her waist, her gaze gentle as water. Tall and graceful, with a voluptuous figure and flawless, alabaster skin, she was as exquisite as carved jade, as elegant as a blooming flower—truly a peerless beauty of her era. Her pure white, slender legs exuded an irresistible allure. Though she soaked in the water, she did not frolic as her younger sister did.

Along a nearby path, a carriage stood still. The coachman leaned against the carriage, eyes closed and dozing. Not far away, ten household servants stood with staves in hand, keeping a vigilant watch.

Xiao Qiao lay with her head in Da Qiao’s soft lap. “Sister, why does Father wish to bring us to Xiangyang?” she asked.

Da Qiao gently stroked her sister’s hair. Xiao Qiao closed her eyes in comfort. “The Chancellor dotes on his second son,” Da Qiao replied softly. “Upon hearing our father has two daughters, he wishes to propose a marriage.”

“So Sister is to marry the Chancellor’s son…” Xiao Qiao mused.

Yet no hint of joy could be seen on Da Qiao’s lovely face. Instead, she asked kindly, “And what kind of husband does my little sister wish for?”

Xiao Qiao grinned playfully. “Hmm… First, he must be skilled in music, unmatched in wit, and most importantly—he must be handsome!”

From the distance came the sound of approaching hooves. After a while, a carriage slowly drew near and halted before them. The surrounding servants tightened their grips on their staves, while the coachman opened his eyes and jumped down from the carriage.

Pulling back the curtain, a scholarly gentleman with an innocent face stepped down and bowed to the coachman, who returned the gesture. “I am Sima Yi, styled Zhongda,” he announced. “By my young master’s order, I am here to escort the two esteemed daughters of Lord Qiao.”

“Da Qiao greets Lord Zhongda,” she replied.

“Xiao Qiao greets the young lord,” echoed her sister.

Da Qiao offered a gentle smile. “You are a scion of a noble family, your father holds the office of Prefect of Jingzhao. For you to humble yourself in coming to receive us is a great honor indeed.”

Sima Yi gazed at the two young ladies before him: one elegant and refined, the other lively and charming. His heart wavered for a moment, but he quickly composed himself. His gentle smile remained unchanged, calm and natural. “You jest, my lady,” he replied. “As daughters of Lord Qiao, you are treasures beyond measure and must not be slighted.”

“If it pleases you, I shall lead the way,” Sima Yi continued. “Ladies, please follow me.”

Beyond the green hills, a traveler’s journey unfolds; before the boat, emerald waters stretch ahead.

With the tide calm, both banks appear wide; the wind is fair, and a lone sail is taut.

On the Yu River, a boatman glided his bamboo raft, singing clear mountain songs as he cast his net, hoping to catch fresh, plump fish. The ripples sparkled, and his voice rang out, bright and loud.

“Judging by your attire, young master, you must be out enjoying the scenery,” the boatman said with a smile, using his pole to steer the raft. “If you’re traveling for leisure, best avoid Anzhong City—it’s a place of war these days.”

“But the Chancellor, may he be praised, governs the kingdom with diligence and kindness,” the boatman continued. “Just recently, a band of rebels was handily defeated by his generals.”

At the stern, a scholar toyed with a porcelain flask. “The Chancellor is indeed a hero among men,” he mused. “But I have heard that he has implemented land reclamation, and recently most of the fields have been seized by the powerful. Do the common folk hold no grievances?”

“What grievances can a commoner have?” the boatman sighed, pausing in thought before continuing, “When Lord Liu was alive, the people of Jingzhou were prosperous and secure. They cleared land for farming, the fields stretched for miles, and the grand academy attracted scholars from all corners of the land. Those were days of true peace.”

“Now, the fields belong to the officials, but the people voice little complaint. All an ordinary family yearns for is an extra mouthful to eat,” the boatman said, dipping his pole into the clear water. “Were it not for these lords, who knows when war might again ravage this prosperous Jingzhou. I’ve been on this river over thirty years—lost my home to war, lost my son—I truly wish for peace…”

Northwest of Fangcheng in Anzhong City lies treacherous terrain, and to its southwest is Deng County—a precious land, famed as the ‘Mighty Pass of Three Provinces’ and the home of the Sage of Medicine, Zhang Zhongjing.

Indeed, the late Han was an era teeming with talent; even in medicine, two figures stood preeminent: Hua Tuo and Zhang Zhongjing, both towering authorities in their field.

At this time, however, Zhang Zhongjing’s fame could not match that of Hua Tuo. Perhaps because Zhang Zhongjing wrote his Treatise on Cold Damage and Miscellaneous Diseases in solitude, while Hua Tuo traveled widely, healing far and wide, his name became better known.

Yet in this, Zhang Zhongjing was more fortunate—Cao Cao did not come seeking him.

Traveling three hundred li south from Deng County brought one to Fancheng. Having paid the old boatman, Jiang Wen slung his pack over his shoulder and disembarked.

In wartime, the price of horses had soared—an ordinary horse now cost thirty or forty thousand coins. After lengthy haggling with a local merchant, Jiang Wen purchased a donkey instead. Its price was a mere fraction of a horse’s, for the gentry disdained riding donkeys—partly for the slow pace, partly for the undignified image.

Donkeys, too, are known for their stubbornness—the famous “donkey’s temper.”

Yet those with such tempers are often the most straightforward and easy to befriend: direct, forthright, open-hearted.

Of all the sages of China, it seems only Liu Bowen favored riding a donkey.

Jiang Wen regarded his new donkey: large-headed, long-eared, with a narrow chest, slender limbs, a short torso, thin-skinned neck, and small but sturdy hooves. Its coat lacked the luster of a horse’s, but it was far more enduring and undemanding in its needs.

After feeding it a little fodder, he rode leisurely into Deng County.

At the city gate, the guards saluted Jiang Wen with bemused expressions.

“This gentleman is certainly a strange one—riding a donkey instead of a horse.”

“Quiet, now. If he hears and takes offense, it could cost you your head. Besides, a gentleman’s choice of mount is his own affair—perhaps it simply pleases him.”

Leading his donkey, Jiang Wen entered Deng County. Fishermen carrying shoulder poles walked by, their buckets brimming with live fish, and in the narrow alleys, a careless bump between passersby quickly escalated into a quarrel, drawing the attention of the city watch.

Nearby, a young lady in fine clothes browsed the shops, inquiring after the most exquisite powders and rouge.

“I heard Master Jia’s son caught a fever—a cold so severe they burn mugwort every day and seek famed physicians to save him.”

“A cold fever! That’s a plague—if it spreads, there’ll be havoc!”

A passerby reassured his anxious friend with a laugh, “No need to worry. They’ve already found a renowned physician—one whose touch brings the dying back to life, a living Hua Tuo!”

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Jiang Wen interjected. “Could you tell me the way to Master Jia’s residence?”

“Just go straight down this street, then turn left at the largest mansion on the corner—that’s Master Jia’s house.”

“Thank you both kindly.”