Half a day south of Xiangyang (襄陽), a clear brook flowed, and beyond the brook lay a green grove of bamboo.

Beyond the bamboo grove, upon a hill, stood a small thatched hall (草堂). The master of the hall was a quiet man. His name was not spoken lightly. In its place, among the scholars of Jingzhou, the title friend of Jibo (機伯) or a scholar of the south had long circulated. That his name did not circulate had itself, in present-day Jingzhou, deepened the weight of the name further.

The master of the hall was approaching seventy. In his youth he had long studied in the academies of the central plains; in middle age he had briefly held a seat near the royal court at Luoyang. But within a month he laid that seat down and came south. Though more than twenty years had passed since he came down to Jingzhou, in all those years he had never put his own name out in public.

Instead, at his thatched hall, every tenth day, like a rumor met on the road, a small gathering was held. Four or five men came to it. Men of known name and men of unknown name sat mingled together.

Three men were at the gathering that evening.

The first was Yi Ji (伊籍), an attending official (從事) of the Inspector’s residence at Xiangyang. His style-name was Jibo (機伯). He served under Liu Biao’s (劉表) command, yet quietly harbored goodwill for Liu Bei (劉備). The second was Shi Tao (石韜). His name was quiet, but he was teaching students at a small academy in the north of Jingzhou. The third was a much younger man. His beard was not yet long. His gaze was clear and firm. His name was spoken only quietly, within this room tonight.

The old master spoke first.

“Jibo has come a far road tonight, I see.”

Yi Ji clasped his hands in greeting.

“Master. I have come to confirm a rumor. That Cao Cao (曹操) in the north is preparing a southern campaign (南征) for next spring is now, they say, closer to fact than to rumor.”

The old master nodded lightly. Then he turned his gaze toward Shi Tao.

“Shi Tao. And you. Before that spring, as a scholar of Jingzhou, on which side will your seat lie?”

Shi Tao was long silent. Then he answered slowly.

“I shall remain in my seat. Only, there is a single name I would like to let slip, as a small rumor.”

“Which name?”

“The name of the youngest friend sitting, this very moment, in this room.”

The third, the young man, did not flush. Nor did he rise from his seat. He only looked long at his own knees. That Shi Tao’s words were directed at him, he already knew; and that the words were his to receive, he knew also.

The old master turned his gaze back to Yi Ji.

“Jibo. In your memory, what manner of man is the one now known at Xinye (新野) as the Imperial Uncle Liu (劉皇叔)?”

“The Imperial Uncle is a man of forty-seven who, for seven years, has walked a single round of his back yard each morning. Of late, I hear, the stride of that round has grown a little shorter and firmer.”

The old master laughed, short but carrying much.

“A man whose round grows shorter and firmer is a man who will soon set out to find another. The stride of one who sets out is, by a single stride, shorter than the stride of one who does not seek. And that shorter stride, rather, goes the farther.”

For the first time, the young man lifted his face. The old master saw him and smiled small. Within that smile, all four men in the room came to know the same thing together.

Before Yi Ji took the road back, the old master gave him a short charge.

“Jibo. Within Jingzhou, the rumor that there is a recluse (隱士) in the south — starting today, for one month, spread it a little, and very quietly. But do not say the name.”

“When shall the name be said?”

“When the first guest who comes seeking this recluse stands before the door on his third stride, then the name will come into its seat.”

Yi Ji clasped his hands in greeting. Shi Tao lowered his head. The young man closed his eyes without a word. His eyes were closed, yet the world behind the lids had already grown a little brighter.

After the gathering ended, Yi Ji walked back down the northern road, passing through the bamboo grove.

At the brook beyond the grove, moonlight had come down upon the clear water. Yi Ji stood long before the water. For the coming month, in the alleys of Xiangyang, along the corridors of the Inspector’s residence, before the shops, in the small markets of Jingzhou, he would be letting a single rumor slip, quietly each time.

“There is a man in the south. His name, it is not yet time to say. But he who has sought that man, they say, has no need to seek another three times.”

That strand of rumor, from tonight, beyond the bamboo grove, began to flow quietly toward the northern back yard of Xinye.

Within the back yard of Xinye this night too, Liu Bei (劉備) was walking his round. He had not yet heard that rumor. Only, upon the place where his stride had grown a little shorter, he had, oddly, seemed to feel the breath of a man beyond a distant southern bamboo grove.

The feeling was brief. It passed. But the place of that brief feeling left, in one corner of Liu Bei’s back yard, a small print tonight.

—

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 40초 비추면 폰에 저장되어 인터넷 없이도 읽을 수 있습니다. Stream.mp4 도 여기서 받습니다.