Chapter 118: Gongsun Ce

As Gongsun Hong’s second son, Gongsun Ce enjoyed a comfortable childhood, endured a poor adolescence, and spent his youth in high spirits. When Gongsun Hong was still a minor functionary in a small county town, Gongsun Ce had already been born. Though such a post carried little prestige, it was still better than being at the bottom, and the salary, together with the various benefits, was enough to keep the whole family clothed and fed without worry. Unfortunately, Gongsun Ce was still an ignorant little brat at the time. Apart from playing in the mud, bullying children his own age, and being bullied in turn by older boys, he retained few other impressions of those days.

Generally speaking, the life of a minor functionary was rather stifling. Above every petty clerk stood a petty clerk’s superior, and above that superior stood the true ruling class. In his hot-blooded youth, Gongsun Hong had cared nothing for such things. He believed that as long as he did his work well, all would be fine. He sincerely wished to accomplish something extraordinary, and in the end he offended a great many people. As a result, his young son Gongsun Ce was dragged into the consequences: the sons of his father’s superiors snatched away his mud toys, stole his sweets, and stole his chance to shine before the girls.

But Gongsun Ce was no ordinary child. Even in his youth, he had inherited Gongsun Hong’s temperament, stubborn to an absurd degree. After suffering a setback, he did not run home to complain to his mother, because he knew that sobbing and sniveling before her would only earn him a beating from a woman terrified of those above her. Thus, whenever he suffered a loss, Gongsun Ce’s first thought was how to win back his honor.

A child’s way of thinking is simple. In those days, Gongsun Ce believed the easiest way to reclaim his dignity was to answer fists with fists. So many beatings he took, so many fights he picked. At first, whenever he beat someone’s younger brother into tears, that boy’s older brother would immediately come and beat him into tears in turn. Unfortunately, Gongsun Ce’s own elder brother was a frail young gentleman who knew nothing but the study of the sages. Gongsun Ce could not rely on him, nor could he find any friends willing to ally themselves with the son of a petty official. He had no choice but to hone his fists alone.

Later, when Gongsun Ce had become capable of beating someone’s younger brother into tears and then doing the same to the older brother, he encountered a new problem. Those brothers had a father behind them to support them, while Gongsun Ce had only a father waiting behind him with a cane.

Surviving in the cracks between the powerful, Gongsun Ce endured a series of “bizarre” encounters that he could not understand at the time. Yet instead of losing faith in personal violence, he became all the more devoted to it.

That was the golden age of the wandering swordsmen. Young Gongsun Ce would stand in the streets and listen as boys only a few hairs older than himself described, with spittle flying, how this or that hero lived with effortless grace; how he could kill a man every ten paces and leave no trace across a thousand miles; how he carried a sword through the martial world, avenging every grievance and repaying every kindness; how he lived recklessly and roamed the ends of the earth. His blood burned with longing.

Yet Gongsun Ce did not merely worship those heroes, nor did he fantasize that one day a wandering knight might happen to appear before him and solve all his troubles. He wanted to become a swordsman who crossed the world, helping every bullied child beneath heaven reclaim his dignity. Of course, at the time, he intended first to reclaim his own—by throwing all those sons of high officials and noble young masters into the mud to eat dirt.

That was what made Gongsun Ce admirable. Though still a child, once he had chosen a direction, he clung to it for decades without wavering. During those years, Gongsun Hong had become old Gongsun Hong; the family had once fallen into such hardship that they could not even afford a bronze sword; and to this day, Gongsun Ce’s martial skill remained mediocre at best, enough only to bluff ordinary people. Yet somehow, he had made it this far.

A man may fear nothing else, but he must fear growing up. Once one grows up, the world changes.

Gongsun Ce had now reached the age of thirty, yet aside from knowing how to wave a sword and saber, he possessed no other talent worth mentioning. On ordinary days, the best he could do was spar with others. If he won, he would throw back his head and laugh three times before striding away in perfect imitation of a heroic swordsman. If he lost, he would cling stubbornly to his opponent and force them to teach him their techniques.

Later, when he could no longer find anyone willing to spar with him, he disguised himself as a wandering knight and performed in the streets. Strictly speaking, it could hardly be called performing for money, since he asked for no payment—only applause. Of course, if the audience happened to scatter a few coins while applauding, Gongsun Ce would wield his sword with even greater enthusiasm. In his view, anyone willing to part with money must surely approve of him more than someone who merely clapped.

Over the years, Gongsun Ce’s pursuit of martial skill had been a tale of bitterness. When the entire world refused to acknowledge his dream, he could only wander through the streets and alleys, seeking a sliver of comfort before the faces of ordinary strangers.

After listening to Gongsun Ce recount his life, Qin Cheng and Wei Qing fell silent in unison. Their wine cups were filled to the brim, yet at that moment neither seemed able to bear drinking from them.

Outside the tower, the bright moon hung high, outlining the desolate shapes of several dark clouds. The stars were veiled behind a thick curtain, and the northern wind could not disperse the layers of mist.

Gongsun Ce had already drunk quite a lot and showed unmistakable signs of intoxication. Having eagerly finished the words he had kept buried in his heart for so long, he paid no attention to Qin Cheng and Wei Qing’s reactions. He seized his wine cup, tipped back his head, and poured the clear liquor into his mouth. Then he wiped his lips with the back of his hand and proclaimed, “Excellent wine! Ha ha!”

Let the world laugh at me for being mad, shallow, ignorant, ridiculous—what of it? When there is wine, I shall drink three hundred cups. It may not dispel a thousand sorrows, but it can make me forget them. I will live as I please. Why should I care whether they laugh at me?

If you are a kindred spirit, then let us drink until we are drunk. If you are not, then after this cup we shall become strangers. That is all.

“Well said! Magnificent!” Qin Cheng rolled up his sleeves, slapped the table, and raised his cup toward Gongsun Ce. “Brother Gongsun, you possess a lifetime of heroic spirit. I have nothing else to say—only that I ask you to drink with me!”

A flicker of surprise passed through Gongsun Ce’s hazy eyes, and then they suddenly grew extraordinarily bright. He burst into laughter, lifted his cup, and said heartily, “Good! Bottoms up!”

Wei Qing watched the two men drain their cups, his gaze briefly clouded with bewilderment.

To live with such abandon—what a splendid sight. Even Wei Qing, an outsider looking on, felt almost drunk with it.

Qin Cheng had spent his entire life among the underworld. He might not have possessed many other talents, but when it came to drinking shoulder to shoulder with another man and giving himself wholly to the moment, he was inferior to no one. Gongsun Ce was uninhibited, but Qin Cheng was even more so.

Perhaps others might find Gongsun Ce a little frivolous. But when a man remained overly reserved even at the wine table, would that not be rather dull? Would it not seem hypocritical?

Why think about tomorrow? Today, having gathered together, they sought only to become drunk as one.

“Brother Gongsun, Brother Qin, shall we drink together?” Wei Qing raised his cup with a smile.

Gongsun Ce came back to himself at once. He raised his cup neatly and laughed several times. “Shall the two of us drink three more cups?”

“Good! Bottoms up!” Gongsun Ce’s smile deepened.

After they finished, Wei Qing, like Qin Cheng and Gongsun Ce before him, casually wiped his mouth and could not help bursting into loud laughter.

Wei Qing himself might never have imagined that he would drink so recklessly and without reason with a man he had known for less than half a day.

Yet at that moment, Wei Qing felt utterly exhilarated.

“Come, let the three of us drink this cup together!” In such a mood and such a setting, Qin Cheng felt that it would be impossible not to get drunk. He had cast everything else aside, and now he simply rose and beckoned to the other two.

“Ha ha! Bottoms up!”

“Good! Together!”

They say that a man’s deepest feelings are all contained in wine.

Is that not so?

When old enemies meet and laugh, their grudges vanish—how could wine be absent?

To share with you the sorrow of ten thousand ages—could that be done without wine?

Whether meeting for the first time or knowing one another well, whether laughing or shedding tears, men of true feeling could do nothing but drink and become drunk together.

Such a manner of living was something women could never understand.

The three men finished their cups and sat down again.

“Drinking with Brother Qin and Brother Wei today has been an incomparable pleasure!” Gongsun Ce said, swaying on his feet. “But how can there be wine without music? Wait here while I call for a couple of songs to accompany your drinking!”

With that, Gongsun Ce paid no attention to the ambiguity caused by his drunken wording and prepared to seek out some singers. Qin Cheng and Wei Qing had meant to say something, but seeing Gongsun Ce’s disheveled hair, flushed face, and staggering steps, they too had become somewhat drunk. Both burst into laughter and forgot to stop him. They simply watched as he left the private room and vanished from their sight.

“Waiter! Bring on the dance music!” Gongsun Ce shouted from outside the room.

Qin Cheng and Wei Qing once again roared with laughter.

“Brother Qin, come. Let us drink a cup together!” Wei Qing urged him to drink.

“Good. Bottoms up!”

The two drank several more cups. Then Wei Qing suddenly gave a muted laugh. When Qin Cheng stared at him strangely, he explained, “Ever since I met you, Brother Qin, I have encountered nothing but strange and marvelous things.”

“Oh? What strange and marvelous things? Tell me,” Qin Cheng said with a smile.

“To begin with, you yourself are the first strange and marvelous thing I encountered. You admit that, do you not?” Wei Qing gazed at Qin Cheng through drunken eyes, a sly smile on his face.

Qin Cheng was taken aback, then shook his head. “I suppose that counts. What is the second?”

“The second is that I keep meeting strange and marvelous people. Never mind the others—the Xiongnu eagle-shooter and Brother Gongsun today alone are unusual enough, are they not?” Wei Qing swayed as he spoke.

“That barely counts,” Qin Cheng replied with a hearty laugh.

“The third is myself. Because I have encountered so many strange and marvelous things with you, I have become strange and marvelous as well. Take today, for instance. Never before have I drunk like this.”

“Ha ha…” Qin Cheng laughed aloud.

Afterward, he thought to himself: Is the way you look today truly strange and marvelous?

It is merely the nature of a true man.

How many chances does one have in life to cast off all restraint? When life is going well, one must make merry to the fullest.

Qin Cheng understood perfectly. It was not only Wei Qing—even he himself rarely drank with such heroic abandon.

There were many ways to become drunk, but drinking with such unrestrained spirit was the rarest of all—and the most exhilarating.

And for that, one had to meet the right people.