[Day 21] Pour Me One Cup
January · *Stars Gather* | about 3 min read
Upon the plain outside the Huzhao Pass (虎牢關), seventeen banners of the allied army waved together. Upon the altar stood Yuan Shao (袁紵) of Bohai, raised as chief (盟主). Among the seventeen lords standing left and right, Cao Cao (曹操) held this morning one of the front seats. Cao Cao’s eyes rested upon the seal at Yuan Shao’s waist, then moved slowly toward three men standing behind Gongsun Zan (公孫瓚). Behind Gongsun Zan’s seat stood, quietly, the three: Liu Bei (劉備), prefect of Pingyuan, and his younger brothers Guan Yu (關羽) and Zhang Fei (張飛).
That morning, at the gate of the Huzhao Pass, the army of Sun Jian (孫堅), grand administrator of Changsha, clashed with the iron cavalry of Hua Xiong (華雄). Bao Xin’s younger brother Bao Zhong (鮑忠) went out first and fell beneath Hua Xiong’s blade before finishing a single exchange. A captain under Yuan Shu named Yu She (兪涉) went out next and was cut down by Hua Xiong’s spear in three exchanges. Pan Feng (潘鳳), recommended by Han Fu, went out with a great axe and fell beneath Hua Xiong’s hooves in a few exchanges.
Hua Xiong hung Bao Zhong’s red kerchief upon a long bamboo from above the Huzhao Pass and waved it aloft. He shouted loudly down toward the gate. “If the alliance has any more captains, come out, one at a time.”
The shout settled quietly upon the plain outside the pass. Yuan Shao’s face upon the altar paled. The mouths of the lords left and right had all closed.
Yuan Shao laid a hand upon the table. “Regrettable. My captains Yan Liang (顏良) and Wen Chou (文醜) have not yet arrived. If even one were at this seat, why would we fear Hua Xiong?”
Before that line was finished, below the altar one man stepped a large pace forward. His voice pushed back the air of the plain outside the pass this morning. “This humble captain asks for himself. Let me go out and cut down Hua Xiong’s head, and lay it beneath the chief’s canopy.”
Every head turned toward that sound. His height was nine chi. His beard was two chi long. Phoenix-eyes with silkworm-eyebrows. His face was red as a ripe date; his voice rang like a great bell. It was a face that, seen once, was not forgotten.
Yuan Shao turned his head toward Gongsun Zan. “Administrator Gongsun. Who is this man?” “The younger brother of Liu Xuande (劉玄德), Guan Yu (關羽). His style is Yunchang (雲長).”
Yuan Shao’s eyebrow twitched. “And what office does he hold now?” Gongsun Zan answered with a slightly awkward face. “He serves, under Liu Xuande, as mounted archer (馬弓手).”
Yuan Shu (袁術) struck the table from one side of the altar. “Just because we lords have no great captain, shall a mere mounted archer speak reckless lines? Guards, cast that fellow out at once.”
Cao Cao raised his hand and checked Yuan Shu. “Lord Gonglu, set aside your anger. This man has already cast a large line; there must be use in it. Let us send his horse out. If he does not win, it is not too late to rebuke him then.”
Guan Yu bowed his waist deeply beneath the altar. “If I do not win, I shall lay my head upon this seat.”
Cao Cao rose from his seat. With his own hand he warmed a cup of wine and handed it to Guan Yu. “Yunchang. Drink this cup first. When the body is warmed, the blade’s strength stands right.”
Guan Yu received the cup with both hands. Yet he did not bring it to his mouth. For a moment his gaze rested upon the hot cup. The tip of his beard moved above the steam. And he bowed his waist deeply toward Cao Cao’s face.
“Lord Mengde. Pour me only this one cup. Leave it here upon the table.”
Cao Cao’s eyebrows rose at the line. “Tell me the reason.”
“I shall drink it upon returning. I shall be quick.”
Guan Yu went down below the altar. He mounted his horse and lifted the Green Dragon Crescent Blade (靑龍偃月刀) lightly. The weight of the blade was eighty-two catties. He turned the reins slowly. He raised the whip high, toward the plain below the Huzhao Pass. On the breath after the whip came down, Guan Yu’s horse left the ground.
Upon the altar Cao Cao sat before his hot cup unmoved. His gaze lingered long upon the steam of the cup. Drums rang loud from the plain outside the pass; a shout went up loud. It felt, for a moment, as though heaven and earth were shaking. “Heaven fell and earth split (天摧地塌)” was, this morning, a single scene. Yet the steam of the hot cup upon the altar kept rising, without cooling. The single line “pour only one cup and leave it” from one man remained, quietly, as steam at the center of today’s battle outside the pass.
The twenty-first morning of Book 1 deepened quietly above the steam of a hot cup upon the altar. The three characters Onjucheong (溫酒請, the request of one warm cup) were planted as a seed: the posture by which a cup is left upon the table without being drained. The seventeen strands of Day 20’s Totakgyeok were, this morning, gathering into the steam of a single cup before the Huzhao Pass.
—
📌 Knowing Apart — History (正史) vs Romance (演義)
🟢 The Records of the Three Kingdoms (Wei Shu, Biography of Emperor Wu 武帝紀, and Biography of Yuan Shao 袁紹傳) plainly record that between 190 and 191 CE the allied Guandong army advanced toward the Huzhao Pass (虎牢關). 🟢 That Yuan Shao was raised as chief (盟主) from Cao Cao’s proclamation is also a record of the histories. 🟡 Pei Songzhi’s (裴松之) commentary transmits that Hua Xiong (華雄) was repelled by Sun Jian’s (孫堅) army and killed at the front of Sun Jian’s vanguard. By the grain of the histories, the one who cut down Hua Xiong was Sun Jian, not Guan Yu. 🟠 Romance of the Three Kingdoms chapter 5 dramatizes this passage into a seat of Guan Yu’s personal heroism and adds the episode of “the warm cup of wine.” This commentary follows the specific composition of that adaptation, while noting plainly within this label Sun Jian’s historical merit. 🔴 The three-character creation Onjucheong (溫酒請) and the mirror reading by which a cup is left upon the table without being drained are reconstructions of this commentary. The character-creation line has reached, today, its twenty-first seat.
“✒️ A Word from the Commentator — Dr. Yeon Samheum
There is a morning on which one takes a step forward while leaving a hot cup upon the table without draining it. The steam of that cup remains quietly at the center of a battle. Upon your own table this morning, is there perhaps a cup you must leave, with only its steam, as you depart first? Might you look, once more and quietly, into the weave of that leaving?
🌍 That Year, on the Other Side of the Earth…
In late spring of 191 CE, upon a morning on the drill-ground of a Danube frontier of Rome’s Commodus, it is said that a centurion received a hot cup before a single combat, yet left the cup upon the table without draining it and mounted his horse. Until news of victory returned, the steam of that cup kept rising upon the table. The Latin phrase calix calidus (a warm cup) was, it is said, inscribed at the margin of that late-spring drill-ground record. On the morning when, at the eastern edge, the steam of a warm cup remained at the center of Guan Yu’s line before the Huzhao Pass, at the western edge the same manner of steam was likewise rising upon a table at a drill-ground.
📅 Tomorrow, Day 22: The Wine Is Still Warm
“A captain returned. In one hand he carried the head of an enemy captain. The steam of the cup upon the table had not yet cooled.” — Sam H. Yeon, Ph.D.
Commentary — Yeon Samheum, the Commentator · Sam H. Yeon, Ph.D. · 延三欽博士
Leave a Reply