On the morning after Guan Yu (關羽) had ascended Mount Tutu (屯土山) with the two elder-sisters (兄嫂), Cao Cao’s (曹操) general Zhang Liao (張遼) reined his horse at the foot of the mountain path.

Zhang Liao ascended the mountain in a low voice. No blade was held in his hand. Folding both hands forward, he stood before Guan Yu. “Yunchang. Today I have ascended this mountain bearing General Cao’s single command. I wish to hand over three covenants (條約).”

Guan Yu bowed his head low. “Wenyuan (文遠). It has been long. Tell me the three covenants.”

Zhang Liao laid the three covenants down. “First: Yunchang is a subject of Han (漢), not a subject of General Cao — this shall be maintained. Second: the bodies of the two elder-sisters shall be kept safe. Third: on the day Liu Xuande’s (劉玄德) whereabouts are made known, Yunchang may depart upon the road of a thousand li (千里) in a single step.”

Guan Yu nodded deeply. His mouth let slip a low word. “Wenyuan. Can these three covenants be fulfilled under General Cao?” Zhang Liao answered low. “Yunchang. These three covenants are already laid within General Cao’s mind. He will receive them gladly.”

Guan Yu set the haft of the Green-Dragon Crescent Blade upon the ground for a moment. His two eyes sank deep. “Wenyuan. I shall accept today’s terms. Only, until the day Liu Xuande’s whereabouts are known, my body shall merely rest beneath General Cao’s banner.” Zhang Liao nodded low.

Guan Yu set the cart of the two elder-sisters in front, and followed Zhang Liao down the mountain path. They arrived before Cao Cao’s main camp. Cao Cao opened the gate and welcomed Guan Yu.

Cao Cao spoke low. “Yunchang. I accept the three covenants. On the day Liu Xuande’s whereabouts are made known, Yunchang is free to depart.” Guan Yu bowed his head deeply.

That evening, Cao Cao laid lightly a robe of crimson silk (緋袍) upon Guan Yu’s shoulders. Guan Yu lifted the hem of that robe.

Inside a small chamber of the main camp, Cao Cao had prepared for Guan Yu a separate seat for the two elder-sisters, with two lamps, a thin curtain, and a guard posted at the outer door. No servant of Cao Cao’s household was permitted to cross the inner curtain. That evening, the two elder-sisters sat inside the curtain and ate a simple meal of millet and vegetables set upon a low tray. They did not ask where Liu Bei was. A wife of a fallen lord, lodged within the curtain of her husband’s rival, rarely asks such a question on the first evening. She eats the millet that is given, and waits. That is the way of the curtain. In the outer chamber, Guan Yu sat alone — the crimson robe folded beside his right hand, the Green-Dragon Crescent Blade laid beside his left hand, and a single lamp of Cao Cao’s household burning between them.

Far to the north, at Jizhou, Liu Bei had arrived that same evening at Yuan Shao’s main camp. Yuan Shao received him in person at the gate, a thing Yuan Shao had not done for many visitors in many seasons. The reception was generous; a feast was prepared; a seat beside Yuan Shao’s own was cleared for Liu Bei. Liu Bei sat upon the seat and did not touch the first cup of wine. A fallen brother whose two younger brothers are, this night, lodged under different banners in different directions rarely touches the first cup of wine at a new lord’s table. He only bowed his head deeply and said, in a voice lower than any at the feast, “Lord Yuan. I am grateful.” Yuan Shao did not hear the precise words, but he heard their grain, and nodded.

Outside the chamber of the two elder-sisters, in the larger courtyard, Cao Cao walked alone along a stone-paved path and summoned no servant. He lifted his eyes toward the northern sky. The north sky that spring was clear; somewhere beneath it, three hundred thousand of his own army stood encamped within a week’s ride; and somewhere beyond those three hundred thousand, Yuan Shao’s seven hundred thousand had begun to move. He understood, without a counselor telling him, that the robe he had laid upon Guan Yu’s shoulders would, before the next season ended, be laid down again upon a saddle as that shoulder rode away. He did not mind. Some robes, laid lightly upon a shoulder, are worth being carried away as much as being kept. A minister who has laid such a robe rarely grudges it its journey. He walked on along the stone path.

The eighty-fourth night of Book 3 deepened quietly upon the robe of Cao Cao’s main camp. The three characters Dunsan-sam (屯山三, the three covenants of Mount Tutu) were planted as a seed: the breath on which the three covenants, the cart of the two elder-sisters, and a robe of crimson silk came to rest at one seat. One of the three directions of Day 83’s Paesanbo (沛散步) had, this night, been laid beneath the robe of Cao Cao’s main camp.

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WIA Code 스캐너로 비추면 인터넷 없이 발행 사실과 위·변조 여부를 확인할 수 있습니다.
휴대폰 기본 카메라로 찍으면 스캐너 안내 페이지가 열립니다 — 기사 바로 열기

움직이는 코드는 스트림입니다 — WIA Code 스캐너로 약 40초 비추면 기사 전문(사진 포함)이 폰에 저장되어 인터넷 없이도 읽을 수 있습니다.

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