[Water Margin] Hu Sanniang with her delicate hands - Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
After the late-night conversation on the jade steps, Hu Sanniang’s heart was like a lake upon which a stone had been thrown; the ripples spread layer upon layer, making it difficult to restore its former calm. Dǎlǐbō’s words, like seeds, quietly took root and began to sprout in her mind. She began to observe everything in Liangshan more meticulously, scrutinizing the “loyalty” and “rules” she had once taken for granted, and re-evaluating her own value and future possibilities.
The merit she gained at Dongping Prefecture, while elevating her status, also brought more attention and invisible constraints. Song Jiang and Wu Yong’s attitude toward her became increasingly subtle: while the rewards were generous, they imposed more checks and balances on her military assignments, clearly unwilling to see her power grow unchecked. Though the likes of Wang Ying and Li Kui dared not openly provoke her for the time being, their latent jealousy lurked like poisonous snakes, waiting for an opportunity.
Late one night, when all was quiet, Hu Sanniang was reading a military treatise under the lamp. Outside her window, the familiar, extremely faint tapping sound was heard again.
Her heart stirred. She put down the book and quietly opened the window. There was no one outside, only the night wind. On the windowsill rested a token of a different style than the previous one—a talisman forged from dark iron, shaped like a wolf’s head. It was cold and heavy to the touch, and the wolf’s eyes were inlaid with two points of faint green gemstone, which shimmered in the darkness.
Beneath the token was a small scroll of plain silk, on which a location and time were written in cinnabar. The handwriting was bold and unrestrained, completely different from the impression Dǎlǐbō usually gave.
The location was an abandoned woodsman’s hut in the back mountain, and the time was 3:45 AM (the third quarter of the zi hour).
This time, it was no longer the secluded valley guided by a star chart, nor the jade steps under the moonlight, but a place that was more secretive, even carrying a hint of danger. The wolf’s head token exuded an aura of severity and grim determination.
Grasping the cold token, Hu Sanniang could feel the power and resolve contained within it. She knew that this meeting would be unlike any before. Dǎlǐbō seemed finally ready to reveal part of her hand.
To go, or not to go?
The risk was obvious. A secret late-night meeting with a Liao Princess—if discovered, it would be the capital crime of treason, leading to utter destruction.
But the desire for “possibility,” which had been ignited deep within her, and the complicated, unspeakable trust (or perhaps curiosity) in Dǎlǐbō, finally outweighed the consideration of risk.
At 3:45 AM, the moon was dark and the wind high. Hu Sanniang, clad in dark clothes for night travel, did not wear her dark armor. She only kept her Sun and Moon sabers and the wolf’s head token close to her body. Like a phantom in the dark night, she avoided all sentries, both overt and covert, and silently arrived at the abandoned hut in the back mountain.
The hut was dilapidated and covered in cobwebs. The air was filled with the smell of rotting wood. Only a corner of the hut had been simply cleared, and a dimly lit horn lantern flickered there. Dǎlǐbō was already waiting.
Tonight, she wore neither luxurious robes nor military attire, but a dark, soft-leather hunting outfit suitable for night movement. Her long hair was tightly tied back, and her face even had a simple camouflage applied with charcoal ash. Only her light brown eyes shone startlingly bright in the lamplight, like a crouching beast of prey.
Upon seeing Hu Sanniang, she offered no pleasantries, simply pointing to two rush mats on the ground: “Sit.”
Hu Sanniang sat down opposite her. The flickering lamplight separated them, casting alternating light and shadow across their faces.
“Did you receive the token?” Dǎlǐbō began directly.
“Yes.” Hu Sanniang took out the token and placed it on the ground.
“This is the command token for the ‘Azure Wolf Guard’ under the command of my elder brother, Wū Yán Guāng. Seeing the token is like seeing him,” Dǎlǐbō’s tone was calm but carried a metallic ring. “With this token, you can, in certain specific locations in the North, mobilize no more than a hundred elite cavalry, or obtain necessary assistance.”
Hu Sanniang was deeply shaken! A mobilization token! Dǎlǐbō actually entrusted her with such an important item? This was no longer just hinting at recruitment; it was close to entrusting her with a lifeline!
“Princess… what is the meaning of this?” Hu Sanniang’s voice was slightly dry.
“To give you a retreat path, or rather… a choice,” Dǎlǐbō stared intensely at her. “Liangshan is not a place for you to stay long; you and I both know this. Song Jiang may temporarily need your capability, but he will never truly trust a woman who is exceptionally capable and difficult to fully control. Once the external pressure eases slightly, or you lose your utility, today’s Dong Ping may well be tomorrow’s you.”
Her words were cold and cruel, yet they hit the core truth.
“I can help you leave,” Dǎlǐbō continued. “Not now. You are too high-profile now; any move will be detected. But in the future, if the time is right, with this token, I can arrange for your safe journey north. Great Liao spans ten thousand li, and there will certainly be a place for your talents, Hu Sanniang, to flourish. My elder brother is thirsty for talent, and with your abilities, a title of nobility and command of troops is not an exaggeration.”
The conditions she offered were undeniably generous. A visible path to power and freedom.
Hu Sanniang remained silent, her heart pounding like a drum. She knew Dǎlǐbō spoke the truth. Liangshan was indeed fraught with peril. Heading north to the Liao Kingdom seemed like a shortcut to escaping her current predicament. But…
“Why are you so determined to help me?” Hu Sanniang raised her eyes, looking directly at the other woman. “Is it merely because you value my talent?”
In the dim lamplight, the corner of Dǎlǐbō’s mouth curved into a complex arc. The smile held a certain pride, a measure of appreciation, and even a profound depth that Hu Sanniang couldn’t understand.
“Valuing talent is one reason,” she said slowly, her gaze substantial as it lingered on Hu Sanniang’s face. “The second is that I value your ‘heart.’ You have chains in your heart, but also an unyielding flame. You are not resigned to fate and dare to fight back. This temperament is rarer than mere martial arts and strategy. My Great Liao needs such bl00d.”
She paused, leaning slightly closer, her voice dropping even lower, with a strange magnetism: “The third reason… perhaps I simply do not wish to see a star that ought to soar in the firmament ultimately fall and perish in this filthy mire. Is that reason enough?”
The last reason made Hu Sanniang’s heart leap. In those light brown eyes, she saw a light that transcended the calculation of self-interest, bordering on pure.
Silence descended upon the hut, broken only by the occasional slight crackle of the lamp wick burning.
After a long while, Hu Sanniang finally took a deep breath. Instead of answering yes or no, she asked a question: “If I go north, what do you expect me to do? Simply serve Great Liao?”
Dǎlǐbō seemed to have anticipated this question. She took out a slightly worn scroll of sheepskin map from her bosom and unrolled it between them. The map was finely drawn, clearly marking mountains, rivers, cities, and passes, but its scope far exceeded the Song-Liao border, covering parts of the grassland, the Western Regions, and even farther west.
“Look here,” Dǎlǐbō’s finger rested on a vast area south of the Sixteen Prefectures of Yan Yun and north of Liangshan Marsh. “The Song court is weak, and the border defenses are empty. In the coming years, a great upheaval is bound to occur here. I do not need you to immediately charge into battle for Great Liao. I only hope that if that day ever comes, when the torrent of fate sweeps through, you will stand on the side that can truly realize your ambitions and protect what you care about.”
Her finger lightly traced the map, finally stopping at the location of Liangshan Marsh, tapping her fingertip there.
“And this place may become one of the key nodes of everything. All you need to do is survive, accumulate strength, and understand the current situation. This token is your guarantee, and it is also… an expectation I hold for you.”
She did not explicitly state what “what you care about” was, nor did she specify that Hu Sanniang must pledge allegiance to Great Liao. Her words left room for interpretation, yet they tightly linked the grand future vision with Hu Sanniang’s personal destiny.
Hu Sanniang looked at the intricate lines crisscrossing the map and the spot where Dǎlǐbō’s finger rested. Her heart swelled with emotion. She felt as though she saw a huge storm about to sweep across the world, and she herself was being pushed to the eye of the storm.
She looked up at Dǎlǐbō. In the lamplight, the Liao Princess’s features appeared both familiar and strange, her heroic spirit imbued with the confidence and depth of someone in control of everything.
“May I keep the map to examine it in detail?” Hu Sanniang finally asked, her voice slightly hoarse.
A knowing smile flashed in Dǎlǐbō’s eyes. She rolled up the map and handed it to her: “Of course. Keep it safe, along with the token.”
Hu Sanniang took the map and the token. The weight in her hand felt immense, as if she had accepted the heavy burden of the future, and also… a complex, unspeakable alliance and expectation from the Northern Princess.
“The night is deep. I should return,” Dǎlǐbō stood up, her movement swift and decisive. “Remember my words: survive, and see the path clearly.”
She gave Hu Sanniang a deep look, said no more, turned, pushed open the wooden door, and her figure quickly dissolved into the darkness outside, disappearing from Hu Sanniang’s sight.
Hu Sanniang sat alone in the dilapidated hut, tightly clutching the sheepskin map and the cold wolf’s head token, unmoving for a long time.
The lamplight flickered, casting alternating bright and dark shadows in her eyes.
A path unlike any before, accompanied by enormous risks and opportunities, had already unfolded a corner before her.