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"Your servant, Fei Qian, kneels in audience before Your Majesty!"
This time, Fei Qian had come to Chang'an under the pretext of presenting auspicious omens as a subject of the court. Naturally, the very first matter was to pay homage to the Emperor, not to return each to his own home.
In the great hall of Weiyang Palace, Liu Xie sat upon the imperial throne, his demeanor radiant with vitality, his spine ramrod straight. His small face seemed to glow with a light that could be named relief. That broad brocade stool that had once sat beside the throne had been removed at the earliest possible moment. Liu Xie had even watched with his own eyes as that stool was hacked into fragments, then set ablaze and reduced to black ash, and finally, with water, flushed entirely into the drainage canals. It seemed as if only by doing so could that vast, dark shadow that had always loomed before him be considered truly, utterly, and forever gone—vanished from this world.
This was a novel sensation Liu Xie had never before experienced. This feeling surpassed even that of his enthronement, of sitting upon the imperial seat. Although there were still many matters he did not yet fully understand, nor could he voice any penetrating insights or resolve any true contradictions, at this moment, Liu Xie was thoroughly content. He believed that each coming day would be better than the last.
"Rise," Liu Xie said, striving to project an aura of steady composure in his voice, hoping it would make him sound somewhat more mature.
"I thank Your Majesty!" Fei Qian knocked his head to the floor once more, then rose to his feet.
Liu Xie observed Fei Qian standing upright and poised below the steps. Compared to the impression in his memory, the Fei Qian of now seemed somewhat darker-skinned, with a beard beginning to grow upon his chin. He looked more like a military officer than a civil official now. Taking advantage of a moment when no one was watching, Liu Xie smiled faintly, then suddenly blinked. His expression was almost exactly like that day back in Cui Manor—one standing inside the doorway, the other outside. Only, time had passed and circumstances had shifted; both Liu Xie and Fei Qian had changed in many ways.
Wang Yun looked at Fei Qian, his mood also exceedingly fine, and said, "General Fei, you mentioned that you have an auspicious omen from the northern lands to present?"
The last time, when Fei Qian had claimed that a purple-tinged auspicious vapor had appeared at Hangu Pass, Wang Yun, though he had said nothing aloud, had inwardly scoffed, believing it to be nothing more than Fei Qian spouting nonsense. But this time—well—Wang Yun felt that this young man, Fei Qian, did perhaps possess a few redeeming qualities after all. At the very least, he had been the first to raise the banner of restoring order and rectifying chaos, and to present an auspicious omen. Did this not prove that the earlier execution of Dong Zhuo had been affirmed by Heaven itself? Otherwise, how could an auspicious omen have appeared?
Fei Qian cupped his hands and spoke in a clear, resonant voice: "Precisely so. Your Majesty corresponds to Heaven above and comforts the black-haired commoners below. You have opened the channels for worthy ministers to speak, rectified the statutes and discipline of the ancestral temple, pacified the chaos and disorder within the seas, assuaged the fury of heroes and champions, rescued the myriad people from the mire of suffering, and relieved all living beings from peril and distress. Now that the work of merit is near its settlement, Heaven and man respond in kind.
The spirits of the Earth and the deities of the soil, with their devoted care, have sent down their decree. Thus, an auspicious omen has appeared, and through your servant's hands, is presented before the steps of the throne—answering above to the heart of Heaven and Earth, and below to the hopes of the common people! This is an omen of our Emperor's flourishing and prosperous virtue, and of the worth and brilliance of the officials and soldiers of the Three Adjuncts! May our Emperor live ten thousand years, ten thousand years, ten thousand of ten thousand years!"
Fei Qian rattled it off with remarkable smoothness. In any case, this was not the first time he had done such a thing. When the final cry of "ten thousand years" fell, the assembled ministers on both sides, unwilling to be outdone, all joined in the resounding acclamation. Instantly, the entire court hall echoed with cries of "ten thousand years." For a moment, the atmosphere seemed harmoniously perfect, monarch and ministers alike beaming with radiant smiles.
Auspicious omens in the Han dynasty were, to be honest, wildly unreliable. This was practically an open secret known to all. Take, for example, this very cry of "ten thousand years"—it, too, had once been an auspicious omen. In the spring of the first year of the Yuanfeng era, Emperor Wu of Han went to perform sacrifices at Mount Taishi in the Song range. Somehow, at that moment, a voice was suddenly heard calling out "ten thousand years," three times in succession, and particularly loud and clear. Emperor Wu asked the people on the mountain who had called out, but, strangely, the accompanying officials on the mountain all said they had not shouted, yet they too had heard it.
Then Emperor Wu asked the people below the mountain, who also said they had heard it but had not shouted either. Thus, this incident of the mountain calling out "ten thousand years" was recorded as an "auspicious omen." If even shouting a few cries of "ten thousand years" could count as an auspicious omen, what wouldn't the Han dynasty be willing to accept?
Moreover, the "auspicious omen" Fei Qian had brought this time was truly an exceptionally peculiar one—a genuine, indisputable auspicious omen: a sheep that had grown four horns. It was the one they had suddenly spotted among the flock that day with Jia Qu. Fortunately, Fei Qian had recognized this sheep's value and had specially ordered it to be well cared for, all the way until this day, when it was presented at the steps of Weiyang Palace in Chang'an.
When this four-horned sheep, its coat washed impeccably clean, snowy white, and draped in red silk and brocade, was led into the hall by attendants, everyone present could not help but draw a long, sharp breath. If considered purely from a biological perspective, whether in the Han dynasty or in later ages, a four-horned sheep was an exceedingly rare genetic mutation. Instantly, certain officials in the hall began spouting phrases like "treading upon auspicious clouds," or "glimpses of purple vapor visible between its breaths." For a moment, the hall buzzed with murmurs, as though it had become a bustling marketplace.
Because this four-horned sheep had been tended by a dedicated keeper from the very day Fei Qian discovered it, it was not the least bit afraid of people, nor startled by human voices. It stood steadily, placidly chewing the cud of the fodder it had eaten not long before. This demeanor seemed to further prove that the auspicious omen before their eyes was, indeed, exactly what it purported to be.
Upon seeing this four-horned sheep, Wang Yun's heart was completely set at ease. Even the look he directed at Fei Qian became as genial as the one he bestowed upon the sheep. He turned, faced Liu Xie, and in a sonorous voice intoned: "The Han suffered under the traitor Dong—a bandit who threw the great lineage into chaos, who hanged the people upside down, who acted in perverse defiance of the masses, who stirred the seas within to blazing fury..." Wang Yun launched into a fervent, impassioned speech that lasted at least a full quarter-hour, expounding from the heavens to the earth, from the west clear to the east, spittle flying, gesticulating wildly, leaving Fei Qian feeling heartfelt admiration mixed with a throbbing headache.
Yet, in the end, it was Wang Yun's pronouncement that delivered the final verdict on Fei Qian's four-horned sheep, and even hammered the seams of the coffin tightly shut. Appraised by Comrade Wang Yun, the Han dynasty's foremost critic of the moment, it was certified as one of the Ten Great Auspicious Omens of the Great Han Dynasty. As for what the other nine were? Wang Yun didn't say, and Fei Qian didn't know. In any case, this four-horned sheep was now one of the Top Ten! Who had the gall, having eaten the gallbladder of a leopard, to dare say otherwise?!
The remaining matters were, by and large, no longer Fei Qian's concern. That Minister over the Masses, Wang Yun, though advanced in years and only newly assuming the helm of state governance, seemed to possess boundless, inexhaustible energy. Having only just finished spraying his quarter-hour-long torrent of florid praise, he immediately dragged the Grand Minister of Ceremonies, the Privy Treasurer, and the Minister of the Imperial Clan into fervent discussions about holding a grand sacrificial ceremony centered around this four-horned sheep.
Fei Qian slowly retreated to his own assigned position. In the front ranks of the civil officials, Cai Yong beamed, giving a slight nod of his head. Lü Bu tilted his head just a fraction, and when he saw Fei Qian's gaze shift his way, he made a subtle gesture of drinking, clearly an invitation for Fei Qian to join him for a couple of cups.