Prologue

Prologue

Here is the translation:

The song reads:

Turn your eyes to the hidden groves of literature—how many refined scholars dwell there, caring nothing for hollow fame and meager profit. They carve through ice and cut through snow, laughing and chatting as they discuss the Wu hook. They judge the kings of former and latter days, distinguishing the true from the false, those who seized the heart of the realm—the seven warlords who threw the Spring and Autumn into chaos. Rise and fall are like brittle willows; man's lot is like a drifting empty boat. Countless have gained fame, countless have had their portraits painted, and countless more have fled from fame all together. In a flash, a new moon sinks over the long river; rivers and lakes turn into mulberry fields along ancient roads. Strange—to climb a tree for fish, or plan to trap a monkey by choosing the right tree, yet fear the wounded bird and bend the bow far from the wood. Better by far to raise the cup in your hand once more, and listen again to a new tune, a fresh melody.

The poem reads:

Amid the tumultuous fragmentation of the Five Dynasties, suddenly the clouds parted and the sky appeared once more. For a hundred years, grass and trees received new rain and dew; across ten thousand *li*, the chariots and writings belonged to the old rivers and mountains. In ordinary lanes and alleys, people wore silk and gauze; here and there, from towers and terraces, pipes and strings played. Men delighted in the days of Great Peace when nothing stirred; among orioles and flowers, they slept as the sun climbed endlessly high.

Now these eight lines of poetry were composed by a renowned Confucian scholar in the court of Emperor Shenzong of the former Song dynasty. His surname was Shao, his given name Yaofu, and his Dao-title was Master Kangjie. He wrote them out of lament for the ravages of the Five Dynasties and the shattered Tang, when wars across the land never ceased. At that time, in the morning the court belonged to Liang, by evening to Jin—as the saying went: "Zhu, Li, Shi, Liu, Guo; Liang, Tang, Jin, Han, Zhou—fifteen emperors in all, spreading disorder for fifty autumns." Later, moved by the cyclical way of Heaven, the Martial Ancestor, Emperor Taizu, was born in the Horse Encampment. When this sagely emperor came into the world, red light filled the sky and a strange fragrance lingered all night without dispersing. He was in fact the Thunderclap Immortal from the upper realm who descended to earth. Heroic, courageous, and possessed of vast wisdom and generosity, no emperor since ancient times could match this Son of Heaven. With a staff as tall as himself, he struck four hundred military prefectures, and all bore the surname Zhao. That Son of Heaven swept clean the world and pacified the Central Plains. He named his realm the Great Song and established his capital at Bianliang. First among eight emperors of nine reigns, he was the founding sovereign of a four-hundred-year dynasty. For this reason, Master Shao Yaofu praised: "Suddenly the clouds parted and the sky appeared once more." It was truly as though he were teaching the common people to see the face of the sun and sky again.

Not only did this gentleman sing his praises. At that time, there was a recluse named Chen Tuan on Mount Hua of the Western Peak—a man of profound virtue and lofty Dao, who could read the winds and clouds and discern the color of the air. One day he rode his donkey down the mountain and was traveling along the Huayin road when he heard travelers on the road saying: "Now in the Eastern Capital, Emperor Shizong of the Zhou house has yielded his throne to Inspector-General Zhao, who has ascended the throne." When Master Chen Tuan heard this, his heart was filled with joy. He raised his hand to his forehead, laughed heartily from atop his donkey, and tumbled right off. People asked him the reason. The master said, "The world is settled from this day forward!" This accorded with the will of Heaven above, the patterns of Earth below, and the harmony of Mankind between.

In the year of Gengshen, he received the abdication and ascended the throne as founding emperor. He reigned for seventeen years, and from then on the Great Peace was established. He passed the throne to his younger brother, who became Emperor Taizong. Emperor Taizong reigned for twenty-two years, then passed the throne to the crown prince. This emperor was in fact the Barefoot Immortal from the upper realm. When he descended into the world, he wailed and cried without cease both day and night. The court posted a yellow proclamation, summoning healers to cure him. This moved Heaven, who dispatched the Star of Venus to descend to earth, transforming into an old man who came forward and took down the proclamation, claiming he could cure the crown prince's crying. The officials guarding the proclamation led him into the palace, where he had an audience with the True Emperor. The imperial decree ordered him into the inner garden to examine the crown prince. The old man went straight into the palace, took the crown prince in his arms, and whispered eight soft words into his ear—whereupon the crown prince stopped crying. The old man did not give his name; he merely transformed into a gust of clear wind and was gone. What were those eight words whispered into his ear? They were: "For civil matters, the Literary Star; for military matters, the Martial Star." Truly it was the Jade Emperor who dispatched two stars from the Purple Forbidden Palace to assist this Son of Heaven. The Literary Star was Bao Zhan, the prefect of the Southern Precinct of Kaifeng and Grand Scholar of the Dragon Diagram Pavilion; the Martial Star was Di Qing, the Grand Marshal who campaigned against the Western Xia.

These two worthy ministers came forth to assist this emperor, whose temple name was Emperor Renzong. He reigned for forty-two years and changed the era name nine times. From the first year of Tiansheng, in the year of Guihai, when he ascended the throne, through the ninth year of Tiansheng—at that time the realm was at peace, the five grains flourished, the myriad people followed their trades with contentment, things lost on the road were not picked up, and doors were not bolted at night. These nine years were called the First Ascension. From the first year of Mingdao through the third year of Huangyou, these nine years were likewise abundant, and were called the Second Ascension. From the fourth year of Huangyou through the second year of Jiayou, these nine years saw the crops ripen richly, and were called the Third Ascension. Twenty-seven years in a row were called the Age of Three Ascensions. In those days, the common people knew some happiness. Who could have forethought that extreme joy begets sorrow? In the third year of Jiayou, in early spring, a great pestilence spread throughout the land. From the region south of the river all the way to both capitals, there was not a single place whose people were untouched. Every prefecture and subprefecture across the realm submitted memorials like snowflakes.

Now in the Eastern Capital, within and without the city walls, more than half the soldiers and civilians fell ill. Prefect Bao Daizhi of Kaifeng personally took the formulas from the Bureau of Beneficence and Relief, used his own salary to compound medicines, and treated the myriad people. But how could he treat them all? The pestilence only grew worse. The civil and military officials deliberated and gathered at the Court of Waiting at the Leak, awaiting the morning audience to report to the Son of Heaven. They intended to pray and offer rites to avert the pestilence. Had it not been for this matter, how would the thirty-six Heavenly Chiefs have descended to the mortal world, and the seventy-two Earthly Demons have been born among men? They shook the very cosmos of the Song and stirred the altars of the Zhao house. There is a poem in testimony:

The poem reads:

Amidst the flourishing transformation of the myriad surnames, the Age of Three Ascensions knew boundless joy. Who knew that governance through rites, music, and sounding stones would turn into a thicket of swords and halberds? In the stronghold on the Water Margin, chivalrous warriors gather; within Liangshan Marsh, heroes assemble. Trace carefully the cycles of order and chaos, rise and fall—all belong to the creative work of Yin and Yang.