East of the River: Home of the Sun Clan sample -- TPMThorne.com

“Sorry,” Sun Ce replied. “S’just that you calling ‘em ‘idiots’ is funny.”
“That’s what they are,” Sun Jian said. “But when they go from place to place ‘healing the sick’ and spreading that stupid poem, telling people that getting rid of everything that’s held this country together for the last four centuries or more is a good thing, they’re not just stupid, they’re dangerous. If we don’t stop them, there will be chaos: no one will till the fields, tend the cattle or brew the wine, and there will be famine. They’ll ransack everywhere, which means there will be no shops, worthless money, no law; the pirates and bandits that already make things so difficult will be even more dangerous. The Wuhuan, the Qiang, the Northern Xiongnu or the Xianbei - or maybe more than one of them - will sense our disorganisation and invade, and there won’t be an army to stop them, especially if the Southern Xiongnu that currently live alongside us decide that we’re weak and turn on us too. And if they bring in the nonsense they believe in, most of the people will realise they made a mistake and try and get rid of them… leading to another war almost straight away.”
“Dumb cultists,” Sun Ce grumbled. “I won’t ever listen to ‘em, Father.”
“That is very sensible,” Sun Jian replied. “Anyway, that’s the explanation you wanted about who I’m going to fight. Was that all…?”
“How is it the government’s fault?” Sun Ce asked.
“…I’ll try and make this quick,” Sun Jian sighed.
“Shouldn’t I ask?” Sun Ce said.
“You’re right to ask, and… and I promised that I’d answer,” Sun Jian replied. “The government is currently run by some corrupt people. They… don’t help. Money doesn’t reach places that need it, and that makes people angry. That’s… that’s all that I should really say, I think.”
“Alright, Father,” Sun Ce murmured. “I’ll go now.”
“Thank you,” Sun Jian sighed.
The conversation between father and son had left both with more questions than answers and a shared sense of unease.

*************

3

Over the next two days, Sun Jian divided his time between his mundane civil duties and the new, more exciting task that awaited him. On the day of departure, Sun Jian had readied his 1,000 men as best he could and assigned them to his lieutenants Huang Gai, Han Dang and Zu Mao. He wore tired, inexpensive armour and a plain battle helmet that would have rendered him indistinguishable from many of his men had they not been partnered with a vibrant red scarf that he wore around his neck for luck.
“I’m not sure that I should be acting as ‘adviser’ on this campaign,” Cheng Pu said with sudden doubt. “I know that I am a little versed in warfare, but-”
“You’ll be the brains,” Sun Jian insisted. He then turned to his stoic, hard-featured brother-in-law, Wu Jing, and said, “I can’t interest you in a front-line role, my respected brother-in-law…?”
“My sister asked me to keep an eye on you,” Wu Jing replied. “I’ll act as your second, so I can do that.”
“Aiee… I am so very, very humbled,” Sun Jian sighed.
“In more ways than one!” Cheng Pu joked. “Shall we order the troops to start moving?”
“No… I want my family to see me off,” Sun Jian replied. “I want everyone to have a moment with their families, if that’s possible.”
“A lot of these men don’t have families,” Cheng Pu suggested.
“…A lot of these men don’t have heads, either!” Wu Jing chuckled.
Some of Sun Jian’s recruits had little hair on their heads or none at all, a sign that they had been given a common form of ‘capital punishment’ - removal of their hair in lieu of actual execution for some serious crime.

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