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After a few moments of awkward silence, Sun Jian coughed deliberately
and said, “Well, if I am truly descended from the great Sun Tzu as some of my
clan like to suggest, it didn’t get me that far, friend Gongfu! I still need to
do something myself, do I not…? I can see you’ve worked hard for what you have:
that means you’ve earned every bit of it, and should be proud, more proud than
men like Yuan Shao of Ru County, who had it handed to them. What do you say to my
asking you to help me and Cheng Demou rid the land of some cultists…?”
“Mister Sun Wentai will have us fighting under the banner of Commander Zhu Jun, no less,” Cheng Pu
reported. “That will get you to where you deserve to be.”
“…Forgive my bluntness, but… can just the three of us volunteer our
services to Commander Zhu…?” Huang Gai replied. “I would think that we need to
find some other men to fight with us… if that isn’t a pedantic point.”
“It is,” Cheng Pu chortled,
“but I’ll forgive you, just this once. No, Huang Gongfu, I think you’ll find
that we’re not going to have any trouble finding help…!”
Cheng Pu gestured toward a group of local men that were watching the
newly-formed friendship with growing interest.
“…Let’s start with them!” Sun
Jian said with newfound cheer.
A few hours later, Sun Jian, Cheng Pu and Huang Gai were sat in a tavern
with two of the men that they had approached, drinking rice wine. Some of the
other men were sat at nearby tables, enjoying their own refreshments and
alternating between private conversations and eavesdropping on the discussion
between their five appointed leaders.
“…So you really don’t have a style name…?” Cheng Pu said as he looked at
one of the two men, who was a swarthy man dressed in weathered clothes.
“Nope,” the man replied. “S’at a problem…?”
“No… no, I mean, if you don’t have one, and don’t want one, I suppose
there’s nothing wrong with that,” Cheng Pu said uneasily. “But what do we call
you…?”
“The name I’ve got; the name I gave you,” the man said bluntly. “Zu Mao.”
“Zu Mao, I think we shall argue the point no longer!” Sun Jian chuckled.
“Thanks,” Zu Mao grunted.
“…So you can fight, Mister Zu Mao…?” Huang Gai asked politely.
“Said I could,” Zu Mao retorted. “Look, here’s how it is: I’m a man o’
my word, I always give everythin’ my best. No, I’m not a lucky sort that comes
from good stock, but I’m a man o’ my word, and I guarantee that I’ll always
watch your back, guard your front, and fight your fight until it’s won. If
that’ll do, then we’re done.”
Huang Gai coughed awkwardly and said, “Indeed.”
Sun Jian’s gaze turned to the other man, who was also possessed of a
strong build and features, but wore well-kept robes and carried a
well-maintained sword at his side.
“Mister Han Dang… or if I may, Han
Yigong,” Sun Jian prompted.
“You’re famed in these parts, Sun Wentai,” Han Dang replied. “I feel
strange talking to a man that’s as crazy as you are.”
“I beg your pardon…?” Cheng Pu
said irritably.
“Oh come now, is it not reckless at the very least, what Mister Sun
did…?” Han Dang chortled.
“Brave, I think,” Cheng Pu
suggested.
Sun Jian scratched the side of his head and hummed thoughtfully.
“You’re thinking about it now, aren’t you…?” Han Dang teased.
“Thinking about what…?” Huang
Gai wondered.