After the winter in which snow had covered the road to Longzhong (隆中), the warm morning of a spring received Liu Bei’s (劉備) third step.

Zhang Fei (張飛) swallowed a low sigh. “Elder brother. If he is again not at his seat, I shall drag him down with my own staff.” Liu Bei shook his head. “Yide. The grain of the Three Visits (三顧) is not a grain of dragging. Today’s third step is the flower of the two previous visits.”

The three men reached the front of the thatched hall (草廬) of Longzhong. Liu Bei had Guan Yu (關羽) and Zhang Fei remain a step behind and stood himself before the door. The lad (童子) opened the door. “Governor. The master is inside the hall today. Only, he is in his noonday nap (午睡).”

Liu Bei bowed deeply. “Young friend. Do not wake today’s noonday nap. I shall wait before the door of the hall.”

Liu Bei stood quietly before the door of the hall. Zhang Fei swallowed a low sigh. “Elder brother. If one does not wake such a nap, the sun will tilt and the stars will rise.” Liu Bei shook his head. “Yide. The grain of this waiting is today’s grain.”

One shichen (時辰, two hours) passed. Two shichen passed. Three shichen passed. Liu Bei stood quietly before the door. From inside the hall, the sound of a long breath of a noonday nap flowed low.

After four shichen, a stir of a body rose inside the hall. A young voice recited a short verse (詩) in a low tone.

“A great dream (大夢) has awakened; / I alone know my lifetime. / The spring sleep of the thatched hall is enough; / and the sun outside the window is slow, slow (遲遲).”

The door of the hall opened. A young scholar stood before the door. His height was eight chi (八尺); his face was like a clear moon; beneath a scarf, a single eye shone clear. He let slip a low word. “Governor Liu. You have waited long. Please, come in.”

Liu Bei folded his hands and offered a deep bow. “Master Wolong (臥龍). Today’s meeting is the flower of this body’s lifetime grain.”

Master Wolong, Zhuge Liang (諸葛亮); style, Kongming (孔明). The door of his third visit opened, for the first time, this morning.

Inside the low study behind the door, Zhuge Liang seated Liu Bei at a low table and poured a cup of warm tea into a small plain cup. This morning he displayed no scroll of statecraft; he produced no chart; he only poured the tea and watched, with long quiet attention, Liu Bei’s face across the low grain of the tea’s steam. A sage who has kept a great visitor waiting for four shichen rarely begins with a scroll; he begins with a cup and a face. Liu Bei did not speak first. A governor who has visited three times in two seasons rarely speaks first at the first cup. He only lifted the cup, sipped, and set it down.

Zhuge Liang’s first word was not about a plan. “Governor. The track that Dilu (的盧) left upon the snow last winter — has the snow, this spring, wholly melted upon the path up?” Liu Bei let out a small low breath that might have been a laugh. “Master. The snow upon the path is wholly melted. The track, however, is still inside my chest.” Zhuge Liang smiled faintly and did not reply. He only poured a second cup. The scrolls would come in the next day’s morning.

Outside, Guan Yu stood in the small courtyard beside the plum tree and let a single petal land upon the back of his hand. He did not brush it away. A brother who has stood for four shichen in a still courtyard rarely brushes the first petal that lands upon his hand; he lets it stay until it lifts on its own wind. Zhang Fei had been grumbling more softly since the second shichen; by the fourth, he had stopped grumbling and had only begun to breathe in the pattern of an old soldier’s meditation. The two men, together in that still courtyard, had come by this morning to understand that the grain of their elder brother’s waiting was wider than their previous patience. Neither said so.

Beyond the plum tree, a small stream ran past the foot of the courtyard wall. Its sound was steady at a low pitch. A stream that runs beneath a courtyard wall at a low pitch for four shichen rarely changes pitch in the fifth; and today’s stream did not change. It only ran. A grain of sunlight, moving lower toward the afternoon, caught upon a single pebble at the stream’s edge and set a small silver line against the moss. That silver line was the line of the morning closing and the afternoon beginning.

The hundred and first morning of Book 4 was opening quietly before the door of the hall of Longzhong. The three characters Samgohwa (三顧花, the flower of the Three Visits) were planted as a seed: the breath on which four shichen of waiting, the verse of the great dream, the height of eight chi, and the opening of the third door all lay at one seat. The track of Day 100’s Jaebang-seol (再訪雪) had, this morning, reached upon the opening of the third door.

—

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 코드(스트림) 한 장에 기사 전문(사진 포함)이 담겨 있습니다 — WIA Code 스캐너로 약 53초 비추면 폰에 저장되어 인터넷 없이도 읽을 수 있습니다. Stream.mp4 도 여기서 받습니다.