95 The Heart That Refuses to Submit

When Luan Yi saw the gleam of anticipation in Hua Tuo’s eyes, he knew the physician had made up his mind. He said, “Divine Doctor Hua, to be frank, I wish to advance this national medical initiative, yet my strength falls short. Within our sect, there are only a few dozen official doctors, most of whom lack skill. Their diagnostic abilities are limited, and if they were to teach medicine, they might only lead others astray. For this reason, although the Holy Mother Sect’s churches are spread across seventeen counties of Jinan, only in Licheng, East, and West Pingling counties are there servants proficient in medicine…”

Luan Yi intended to skirt around the matter, to explain the true reason for inviting Hua Tuo to Jinan and his future plans, but Hua Tuo stood up and respectfully interrupted, “Mr. Ziqi, please speak plainly. I am at your command.”

“In that case, I shall be straightforward!” Luan Yi beamed with joy, rose, and bowed deeply to Hua Tuo. “On behalf of the people of the realm and the faithful of the Holy Mother Sect, I earnestly implore Divine Doctor Hua, with your miraculous hands and compassionate heart, to consider the wellbeing of the common folk and future generations. I beseech you to come forth from seclusion to serve as the Dean of Medicine at the Holy Mother Academy, to diagnose the people in times of need, and to teach the art of healing to our servants during leisure, dedicating all your skills for the enduring welfare of the people.”

Luan Yi’s words were lofty and solemn, elevating Hua Tuo’s appointment to the Dean of Medicine to a matter of national and ethnic legacy. Hua Tuo found himself unable to refuse.

Nor did he wish to. To achieve such a grand cause through medicine had always been his aspiration. With solemn dignity, he declared, “I am willing to devote all for the Holy Sect and the suffering world!”

Remarkably, Hua Tuo echoed Luan Yi’s earlier phrase, “devote all.”

Luan Yi was overjoyed and bowed again with equal solemnity. “In that case, on behalf of all the faithful, I thank Divine Doctor Hua.”

“Mr. Ziqi, you speak in error!” Hua Tuo corrected. “It is the people of the world who should thank you. Besides, I have many friends, such as Zhang Ji from Changsha and Li Tongju from Huainan, both well-versed in medicine. I shall write to invite them to come to Jinan and join us in this great endeavor.”

“Zhang Ji?” The name struck a chord with Luan Yi, though he could not immediately recall where he had heard it. After some thought, realization dawned: he had recently visited the region under that man’s jurisdiction. Astonished, he exclaimed, “Zhang Zhongjing, Zhang from Changsha?”

“Precisely him!”

“But Zhang Changsha is the governor of Changsha Commandery. Why would he stoop to come to Jinan and serve as a humble healer for the Holy Mother Sect?”

“You do not understand Zhang Ji. He regards rank and office as dung, caring only for medicine. If he learns of your grand plans in Jinan, he will come of his own accord without waiting for my invitation.”

“Truly?” Luan Yi smiled brightly.

“Brother Zhongjing is exactly such a character!” Hua Tuo finished, and both men shared a hearty laugh.

After paying respects to Hua Tuo, Luan Yi, following etiquette, planned to meet with Zhao Yun and Xu Chu next. As evening fell and it was time for supper, he invited Xu Chu, Zhao Yun, Hua Tuo, Dian Wei, Guan Yu, Zhang Fei, Huang Zhong, Taishi Ci, Xu Shu, and Mao Jie to dine together.

This was both to welcome Guan Yu, Zhang Fei, Huang Zhong, and Xu Shu, to become acquainted with Xu Chu and Zhao Yun, and to foster unity among them for future cooperation.

The feast was held in the Tianzi private room of the Qifeng Pavilion in Licheng County, Luan Yi’s exclusive chamber. The room was spacious and lavishly decorated, with a bright red embroidered cotton carpet and exquisitely carved round table and chairs, clearly the handiwork of skilled artisans.

At the third quarter of the Shen hour, all arrived in succession. Luan Yi courteously greeted each guest, showing particular warmth to Zhao Yun and Xu Chu while discreetly observing them.

Zhao Yun bore the typical Han features of a square face, fierce eyes, pronounced brows, red lips, and white teeth. Standing eight feet tall and dressed in a white robe, he looked majestic and handsome.

Xu Chu was even taller, his appearance robust and strong, broad-shouldered and thick-waisted—a man clearly born for battle.

Zhao Yun and Xu Chu formed a striking contrast: one handsome and refined, the other sturdy and imposing. Their attitudes toward Luan Yi were equally divergent. Zhao Yun spoke humbly and respectfully, maintaining a clear distance, while Xu Chu was bold and familiar, radiating closeness.

It seemed Zhao Yun’s reluctance to come to Jinan weighed heavily on him.

They took their seats around the round table. Luan Yi introduced each guest. Upon hearing Hua Tuo was present, Huang Zhong’s delight was evident; he hurried forward to pay respects, eager to have Hua Tuo attend to his son Huang Xu’s illness. Yet, familiar with courtly decorum, Huang Zhong restrained himself from interrupting the feast.

Once introductions were complete, according to Eastern Han banquet custom, the host was expected to give an opening toast. Luan Yi, naturally, was no exception. Gathering his thoughts, he traced an imaginary circle along the edge of the round table with his finger and asked, “Do you all know what it means to dine together at one table?”

“This is the law of communal dining, created by Mr. Ziqi—no, now we should call you the Sect Leader,” Hua Tuo smiled.

“Indeed!” Luan Yi nodded repeatedly. “Yuan Zhi, do you recall the meaning behind communal dining?”

Xu Shu smiled faintly, recalling childhood memories of inseparable companions. “Never forgotten! To dine together means to share from the same dish, to taste together the five flavors—sour, sweet, bitter, spicy, and salty. To share the highs and lows of fortune and hardship. Brother Yi calls it: Share blessings and bear adversity together!”

“Well said, ‘share blessings and bear adversity together!’ Brother Four, your words truly move me,” Zhang Fei exclaimed, cracking his knuckles in anticipation. Before the feast began, he downed a full cup of immortal wine. “Damn it! That immortal wine is better than anything else! Ha ha!”

Luan Yi chuckled, raising his cup. “As Brother Mao said, by sharing this meal, we become brothers bound as one family, to ‘share blessings and bear adversity together.’ As the saying goes, ‘Brothers united can cut through metal.’ What is there to fear? Let us all drink deeply!”

With that, he raised his glass and drained it.

“Exactly so!” everyone echoed, emptying their cups—except Zhao Yun, who neither drank nor raised his glass.

Luan Yi was slightly taken aback and asked Zhao Yun, “Zi Long, why do you not drink? Are you unwell? Shall I ask Divine Doctor Hua to take your pulse?”

Hua Tuo glanced at Zhao Yun’s complexion and immediately said, “The warrior Zhao has no illness.”

The fiery Zhang Fei was incredulous. He glared at Zhao Yun and demanded, “If you’re not sick, why not drink? Do you look down on me, your Fourth Brother?”

Luan Yi intervened, admonishing Zhang Fei, “Third Brother, be respectful. If Zi Long chooses not to drink, he has his reasons. Do not force him.”

Zhang Fei retorted, “What reason could he have? Old Zhang thinks this guy’s just arrogant. Not drinking is disrespect to Fourth Brother.”

Zhao Yun rose, his fierce eyes meeting Zhang Fei’s. He turned to Luan Yi and bowed. “Sect Leader Luan, a renowned gentleman of the Han, how dare I look down upon you! But before the feast begins, there is a matter I must ask—though I am unsure if I should.”

Luan Yi adopted a serious demeanor. “Zi Long, ask freely. As brothers, we must be frank with one another.”

“Very well.” Zhao Yun paused to choose his words carefully, then asked, “Sect Leader Luan… when you say brothers united can accomplish great things, what ‘great things’ do you mean?”

“Hm?” Luan Yi was caught off guard by the question and uncertain of Zhao Yun’s sudden curiosity. To avoid misstep, he deftly returned the question. “Zi Long, what do you think I wish to accomplish?”

Zhao Yun was surprised by the counter-question. After pondering briefly, he rephrased, “Since arriving in Jinan and wandering the city, I’ve seen many soldiers. At first, I thought they were official troops, but upon closer inspection, their armor differed. Their chestplates bore a red cross insignia matching the Holy Mother Sect’s emblem. When I inquired, I learned these soldiers were not official troops but the Holy Mother Sect’s personal guardians. Later, through my brother-in-law Mao Jie, I found out there are as many as 4,000 such guardians. May I ask, Sect Leader Luan, if the sect’s mission is to enlighten the people, why does it maintain such a large army?”

At this, Luan Yi finally understood the intent behind Zhao Yun’s earlier question. He chuckled and first corrected the figure. “Zi Long, that is incorrect. Brother Mao exaggerated. The Holy Mother Sect’s guardians number not 4,000 but actually 6,600. By autumn harvest, I plan to expand their number to 9,000.”

“What?” Zhao Yun’s eyes flashed with a fleeting glint of menace.

Luan Yi laughed heartily and asked, “Zi Long, are you thinking that, since I am neither official nor noble but command such forces, I might harbor rebellious intentions?”

His words struck a chord with Zhao Yun. Huang Zhong, who overheard the private army’s size, shared similar thoughts. Even the stoic Guan Yu and Taishi Ci showed signs of suspicion. To these men, imperial authority remained supreme; even sworn brothers must not infringe upon it.

Throughout, Zhao Yun’s tiger-like eyes scrutinized Luan Yi’s every glance and smile. Seeing Luan Yi calm and unflustered, he began to wonder if he had misjudged the man. He asked, “Does Mr. Luan harbor no rebellious intentions?”

No sooner had Zhao Yun spoken than Luan Yi’s expression darkened with anger. “Brother Zi Long, what kind of man do you take me for? My ancestor Luan Tao was a merchant, conducting trade throughout the Han realm and enjoying the emperor’s grace. My father Luan Miao is now the Prefect of Jinan, an official receiving Han stipends. Remembering the source of one’s water, the Luan family has served as loyal subjects of Han for generations, deeply grateful for imperial favor. How could I commit treason? Do you truly think me so heartless and ungrateful?”

“Mr. Luan’s noble character is known to all Han people,” Zhao Yun admitted, feeling increasingly uneasy. Yet his doubts remained. “Then why does the Holy Mother Sect maintain so many guardians?”

Luan Yi still refused a direct answer, instead posing a question. “May I ask, Zi Long, is the Han realm at peace now?”

“Certainly not, even a three-year-old could tell you that!” Zhang Fei blurted out.

Luan Yi nodded. “Brother Three speaks truly. It is not peaceful. Since the first year of Xiping, there have been rebels like Xu Sheng, the Wuhu barbarians opposing Han, uprisings by peasants in Cangwu and Guiyang, and the rebel Huang Rang’s rebellion—dozens of such disturbances. These are mere trifles. The rebels are peasants, unversed in warfare, easily crushed by a single regiment. Thus, I believe the true chaos lies elsewhere.”

“Oh?” Zhao Yun asked, intrigued. “According to you, Mr. Luan, there is greater turmoil?”

“Of course!” Luan Yi nodded vigorously. “The true upheaval does not arise from the common people, but from within the imperial court itself.”

“I am eager to hear more!”