[Water Margin] Hu Sanniang with her delicate hands - Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
The celebratory atmosphere of the alliance had not fully dissipated, yet an invisible barrier had quietly erected itself between Hu Sanniang and the Liangshan core. Her public refusal of Wang Ying at the banquet, although using the “larger situation” to temporarily push him back, had reinforced her reputation for being “ungracious” and “unruly.” Even Song Jiang’s usual cordial smile now held a deeper layer of scrutiny when he looked at her.
Late one night, Hu Sanniang was sitting alone by the lamp, tracing the surface of the now-empty jade flask, repeatedly considering Dǎlǐbō’s words and the drawing of the eagle pecking at the chain. Suddenly, hurried and deliberately quiet footsteps sounded outside the courtyard. Following was Hu Cheng’s hushed voice, filled with unprecedented panic:
“Third Mistress! This is bad! Li Kui… that scoundrel has taken a group of his trusted men toward the rear mountain prison! I heard… I heard they are going to interrogate the imperial spies captured a few days ago. I fear… I fear he will commit another massacre!”
Hu Sanniang’s heart sank instantly! The horrors of the night the Hu Family Manor was ravaged flashed before her eyes. Li Kui’s crazed image, swinging his axes indiscriminately at young and old, was like a nightmare! The confluence of old grudges, new hatred, and an instinctive aversion to wanton killing made her spring to her feet.
She knew that Li Kui held a special place in Song Jiang’s heart, and his bloodthirsty nature was a stain on Liangshan’s name that they couldn’t wash away. In the past, she was powerless and barely safe, only able to bury her hatred deep down. But now, Dǎlǐbō’s words rang in her ears—”the person holding the knife is the key,” and “a wolf blinded by hatred will fall into the hunter’s trap.” If she only hated Li Kui, the knife, but dared not confront Song Jiang, who tolerated the knife, her hatred would remain unresolved!
A thought flashed like lightning through her mind—perhaps this was an opportunity? An opportunity not based on personal enmity, but on “righteousness” and “the stockade’s reputation,” to advise Song Jiang, test his limits, and also… seize a little initiative for herself?
The risk was enormous. She could easily anger Song Jiang and cement her reputation for being “defiant.”
But the flame ignited by Dǎlǐbō in her chest—the unwillingness to remain silent forever—drove her.
“Help me change!” she told Qiuyan, who entered upon hearing the noise. She put on the dark-blue riding attire, carefully concealed the jade flask in her bosom, as if drawing a sliver of courage and calm from it. Without her double sabers, she hurried alone toward Song Jiang’s compound.
The night was deep, but Song Jiang’s study was still lit. Hearing that Hu Sanniang requested an audience late at night, Song Jiang was clearly surprised but still admitted her.
In the study, only Song Jiang and Wu Yong were present. Song Jiang sat behind his desk, and Wu Yong stood nearby, fanning himself. Seeing Hu Sanniang enter, both their gazes fell upon her, full of scrutiny.
“Third Mistress visits late at night. What is the urgent matter?” Song Jiang’s tone was calm, revealing no immediate emotion.
Hu Sanniang curtseyed, suppressing the tumultuous emotions within, trying to make her voice sound calm and earnest: “Reporting to Leader Song, I just heard that Leader Li Kui is taking his men to the rear mountain prison to interrogate the imperial spies. I dare to plead with the Leader to issue an order, restraining Leader Li Kui, and preventing him from… from committing another act of wanton killing.”
She raised her head, her gaze clear and firm: “Now that our Liangshan has allied with the Liao Kingdom, our prestige is different from the past. If we continue to tolerate indiscriminate killing, it may discourage heroes across the land from joining us and will damage our Liangshan’s reputation for ‘acting on Heaven’s behalf.’ Captured spies can be interrogated or detained. If they are summarily slaughtered without distinction, how is that different from… from common bandits? I implore the Leader to reconsider!”
She had chosen her words carefully, setting aside personal grievances and speaking entirely from the perspective of Liangshan’s overall strategy, making her argument well-founded.
However, hearing this, the habitual genial smile on Song Jiang’s face gradually faded. He lightly tapped the table with his finger, not immediately answering.
Wu Yong, on the other hand, chuckled softly, shaking his feather fan, and spoke unhurriedly: “The Third Mistress’s benevolence and compassion for life are admirable. However… extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures. Brother Li Kui is perhaps a bit rash, but he is absolutely loyal to the stockade, decisive in battle, and his actions can certainly deter evildoers. A few imperial spies—killing them is killing them. Can we expect them to be grateful for Liangshan’s grace? The Third Mistress is perhaps… a little too soft-hearted.”
“The Strategist speaks correctly,” Song Jiang finally said, his voice steady but carrying a hint of undeniable coldness. “Although Iron Ox is reckless, he is a sharp blade for our Liangshan. With the imperial forces poised to launch an attack, and the alliance newly formed, we need to show such means to demonstrate Liangshan’s power and strike fear into our enemies. Third Mistress, I appreciate your good intentions. But I have my own discretion regarding stockade affairs.”
“Own discretion?” That meant acquiescing to, even encouraging, Li Kui’s massacre!
Hu Sanniang’s heart sank bit by bit. She knew her counsel was likely useless, but she hadn’t expected them to be so stingy with even a pretense of courtesy, immediately shutting her down with “soft-heartedness” and “my own discretion.”
A profound sense of powerlessness and sorrow gripped her. On this Liangshan Mountain, could the so-called “acting on Heaven’s behalf” not outweigh practical interests and political maneuvering after all?
Just then, a commotion arose outside the study, mixed with Li Kui’s distinctive, brassy voice: “Brother! Brother! Those few bird-spies had hard bones, but after a few of my axes, they confessed everything! Haha…”
Before his voice trailed off, the study door was abruptly shoved open. Li Kui, reeking of bl00d, strode in. Seeing Hu Sanniang inside, he was first stunned, then his bovine eyes shot out undisguised malice and hatred (he had clearly been informed of Hu Sanniang’s recent counsel). He sneered: “Oh! Isn’t this the Third Mistress Hu? What, feeling sorry for those imperial dogs? I’m telling you, I, Li Kui, kill imperial dogs! Your Hu Family Manor…”
“Iron Ox!” Song Jiang violently slammed the table, roaring in a sharp voice, “No more nonsense! Get out!”
Though still defiant, Li Kui dared not defy Song Jiang’s shout. He glared fiercely at Hu Sanniang and sullenly retreated, but the threat and killing intent in his eyes were undisguised.
A dead silence fell inside the study.
Wu Yong stopped shaking his fan, his gaze scrutinizing both Hu Sanniang and Song Jiang.
Song Jiang looked at Hu Sanniang, his expression complex—disappointment, suspicion, and even a hint of barely perceptible sternness: “Third Mistress, I have noted your words today. It is late. Go back and rest.”
The dismissal was clear.
Hu Sanniang knew that further words would be useless. She quietly bowed and turned to leave the study. Her steps were heavy, as if made of lead.
Walking down the cold corridor, the night wind blew on her face but could not disperse the coldness and suffocation in her heart. She could almost see the faint bloody glow from the direction of the rear mountain prison and hear the desperate wails.
She had failed. Not only had she failed to prevent the massacre, but she had likely aroused deeper suspicion from Song Jiang.
She returned alone to her small courtyard. Closing the door, she slowly slid down to the floor, leaning against the cold door panel. An unprecedented loneliness and despair engulfed her. In this place surrounded by tigers and wolves, her attempt to utter a dissenting voice was so weak, so easily crushed.
She instinctively reached into her bosom and tightly grasped the cold jade flask. The delicate texture of the flask was her only solace at the moment.
Suddenly, she felt the jade flask seemed to be… slightly warm?
Surprised, she took out the flask and looked at it under the faint moonlight filtering through the window. The originally smooth surface now faintly showed several extremely fine, star-like silver patterns! The patterns formed an extremely simple image—a watchful eye!
It was Dǎlǐbō! Had she installed such a clever mechanism on this jade flask? Was this eye telling her, “I saw it”?
Just then, a very slight sound, like a pebble dropping, came from outside the window.
Hu Sanniang snapped her head up. Grasping the jade flask, she silently moved to the window and looked out through the crack.
In the moonlight, a tall, familiar figure stood in the shadow of the courtyard wall. Had Dǎlǐbō returned (or perhaps never left far)? She was not in her brocade robe but still in her practical black attire, like a sprite in the dark night. She did not look at Hu Sanniang’s window but slightly turned her head, her gaze sharply sweeping toward a dark corner just outside the courtyard. There, an even more blurry figure seemed to flash and disappear!
A surveillance agent! Song Jiang had indeed sent someone!
Dǎlǐbō seemed to take only a casual glance before withdrawing her gaze, acting as if she had discovered nothing. She looked up toward Hu Sanniang’s window. Although separated by the window and darkness, Hu Sanniang could feel the light brown eyes projecting a look of understanding and comfort.
She did not linger or make any gesture. After just a quiet look, her figure flickered and vanished as if melting into the night.
Hu Sanniang tightly held the jade flask, which had returned to its cold temperature, but the star patterns were deeply etched in her mind. She leaned against the window frame, remaining still for a long time.
The sense of defeat still lingered, and the loneliness had not subsided.
But those star-like eyes, silently watching and guarding in the darkness, were like a faint but resolute light, piercing the suffocating, heavy darkness.
The cold blade was cold, but not as cold as the human heart.
Yet, at least in this endless cold night, she was not entirely alone.