JavaScript is off/unavailable on your browser. You will not be able to experience this website as it was intended without JavaScript enabled.
“Sun Jian is renowned amongst these parts for taking down a whole lot o’
pirates,” Zu Mao chuckled hoarsely. “Charged them headlong, he did, all by
himself, and started pointing in all directions, shouting things like ‘You men, from that side!’ and ‘Now!
From that side!’ to make them think
they were surrounded.”
“Was that really what you did…?” Cheng Pu asked as he looked at Sun
Jian, who nodded sheepishly. Cheng Pu frowned and said, “You’re going to get
yourself killed, doing stupid things
like that, Wentai. Why under Heaven did you do it…?”
“I didn’t have anyone to help me,” Sun Jian admitted. “There were only a
few of them, and I thought, ‘Why not?’”
“And you’re the boss,” Zu Mao chuckled.
“This’ll be fun, I reckon.”
“Fortunately,” Cheng Pu said, “Gongfu and I are both versed in
stratagem… so we shouldn’t need to resort to suicidal behaviour. I know I said
that I detest pedants, but… there are limits to how undisciplined a man should
be. What were you trying to prove…?”
“That I’m worthy of my ancestry, for one,” Sun Jian confessed. “To be
told you’re descended from greatness, perhaps the most respected strategist in
history, and then you stare into the water, and the man reflected back at you
is… … …I need to know that I tried to
be a great man, at the very least.”
Every man that was listening fell silent.
“Well put,” Zu Mao declared after a thoughtful silence.
“The Yellow Turbans are a menace,” Cheng Pu said sternly. “We need to
put an end to them… but promise me, Wentai, that you will not throw yourself
into the tiger’s mouth in the attempt…?”
“No fear of that,” Sun Jian said with a smile. “I am the tiger. And I’m going to devour them all.”
The men were inspired, and they cheered as one.
*************
Sun Jian returned to his home later that evening, wracked with a sudden
sense of guilt. His decision to volunteer his services to the rescue of the Han
Empire had not been made lightly, but at the same time, the decision had been
made alone, and now he had to explain his decision - and the motivations behind
it - to his family.
“Father!” Sun Jian’s eldest
son shouted as soon as he saw the sullen patriarch enter the living quarters.
The boy ran toward his father, stopped short, and immediately started to throw
punches at the empty air between them. The two enjoyed a short bout of mock
sparring before the youth - Sun Ce - hugged his father tightly.
“…I need to speak to the family, Ce’er,” Sun Jian ordered.
Sun Ce nodded eagerly and went to the sleeping quarters to summon his
mother, Lady Wu.
“What is it, Husband…?”
Lady Wu asked as she entered the living quarters; she had with her the second
son of Sun Jian, who was two years old. She was an attractive woman, and she
had a strong presence that was born from the need to support her brother when
their father died without leaving them with a reliable source of income. Lady
Wu was the matriarch in every sense, and Sun Jian showed her a degree of
private deference for that same strong, supportive nature that she now focussed
towards him and the family they were raising together. This did mean, however,
that the family they were raising would be very, very different from what was
the norm at that time.