Chapter Thirty-Eight: Gan Ning

The grandfather and grandson spent a brief night in Fan City, and the next day prepared to cross the river toward Xiangyang.

When they arrived, dusk was fast approaching. The roads were deserted, the countryside around was empty, and only a few guards at the city gate were getting ready to shut it.

Seeing the gates about to close, Deng Hong hurriedly called out, “Don’t close the gate! I serve under Governor Liu, and I’m bound for Xiangyang!”

At that moment, a robust man lounging idly on the parapet, a blade of foxtail grass between his lips, glanced down upon hearing the shout.

It was seven in the evening; in the height of summer, the sky was not yet fully dark. Noting the scholarly attire of the visitor and the child at his side, the man felt an urge to jest. Propping his head, he replied, “Orders are strict—when the time comes, the gates must be shut.”

Deng Hong put on a smile. “Please, General, show some leniency. If we can’t enter the city, my grandson and I must spend the night outside. I can manage, but I fear for my grandchild’s health if exposed to the elements overnight.”

“Oh, is that so?” The man grinned. “Well then. You’re dressed as a scholar—how’s your grasp of the classics?”

“Er…” Deng Hong looked up, hesitating. “Does that have any bearing on my entering the city?”

The man said, “I hold learned men in the highest esteem. If you lack true scholarship yet parade in scholar’s robes, wouldn’t that sully the reputation of learned folk? So I must test you. Otherwise, I cannot let you in.”

Deng Hong was speechless.

But under the eaves, one must bow one’s head. He replied, “I have studied the Analects…”

He felt almost embarrassed to say so.

The man pondered, then smiled and tilted his head. “Then tell me, what does ‘The scholars of old studied for themselves; those today study for others’ mean?”

Deng Hong glanced at Shen Chen.

Shen Chen whispered a few words in his ear.

Deng Hong then declared loudly, “The scholars of old studied for themselves, and in the end, they accomplished things. The scholars of today study for others, and in the end, lose themselves. The sages spoke often of the gains and losses in learning, but never so incisively as in this phrase. If one discerns this well and examines oneself daily, then one will not lose sight of one’s principles.”

The man had expected only some simple discussion, but hearing such a sophisticated explanation, he realized at once that Deng Hong was no ordinary scholar. Sitting up, he gazed intently at the pair below.

Now, Deng Hong and Shen Chen could clearly see the man’s features: likely twenty-seven or twenty-eight, tall and burly, with a face of striking determination. He wore luxurious silk robes and had an odd bird feather in his hair, sitting cross-legged on the parapet, looking down.

Gan Ning!

He had not yet introduced himself, but Shen Chen nearly blurted out his name.

Those bird feathers and silk robes were famous, not only in later times, but even now in the late Eastern Han, for he was notorious.

Gan Ning had previously formed a gang known as the “Brocade Sail Pirates,” causing trouble in Ba Commandery; his reputation had long since spread to Jingzhou.

Last year, Liu He, the Inspector of Jingzhou, persuaded him to defect, but after Liu Biao’s troops were defeated by Liu Zhang, Gan Ning fled to Nanyang. Unexpectedly, he was now in Fan City.

Gan Ning was sizing up the pair as well.

In fact, the Caiyang and Fan City region was Gan Ning’s ancestral land. Liu Biao had placed him under Zhang Yun’s command, and he now stationed himself at Fan City, growing bored with guarding the gates every day.

Today, with nothing to do, he had meant only to tease the scholar below, but was surprised by the depth of learning.

Gan Ning, though a troublemaker in his youth, later reformed, studied diligently, and immersed himself in Confucian texts. His talents earned him a post in the prefectural office, eventually rising to Assistant Prefect of Shu Commandery.

Clearly, his learning was not insignificant.

It was for this reason that he could discern the unusual qualities of the visitor.

Since taking up study, Gan Ning respected those truly learned. Seeing that the pair genuinely had nowhere else to stay, he called out, “Open the gates—let them in!”

“Thank you, General!”

Deng Hong was overjoyed, saluted, and let the coachman drive the donkey cart through the gate.

As they entered, Gan Ning remained on the tower, watching. Deng Hong saluted again in thanks, and the donkey cart slowly headed toward the guesthouse.

Shen Chen, recognizing Gan Ning, wished to speak, but could find no suitable reason—besides, Gan Ning was still on duty, and it was improper to disturb him, so they departed.

But upon reaching the guesthouse, they were refused entry.

Deng Hong was headed for an official post but had not yet arrived, nor received his badge of office. The guesthouses and stables were reserved for officials traveling through Jingzhou; without proper credentials, he could not stay.

There were inns in the Han era, but recently, chaos in Guanzhong had driven a flood of refugees toward Wu Pass. The wealthy families from Guanzhong, with means, flocked to Xiangyang and its vicinity, and so Fan City’s inns were full—everywhere they tried, there were no rooms.

With no other option, the grandfather and grandson wandered the streets, looking for any place that would accept them.

Night fell, and they found nowhere.

At this time, Gan Ning, off duty and having handed over command, rode his horse home. By chance, he saw the pair and rode over, asking, “Why are you still on the street?”

Recognizing Gan Ning, Deng Hong replied with a bitter smile, “I am bound for Xiangyang but have not yet received my badge and seal, so the guesthouses will not take us in.”

Gan Ning thought for a moment. “Then come stay at my house tonight. I live alone anyway, and my home is quite spacious.”

“Thank you, General!” Deng Hong was delighted, thanking him repeatedly. “Meeting you on the road is truly fortunate.”

“Follow me,” Gan Ning said, and led them southward.

Fan City was vast, especially with the turmoil at the end of Han; people flocked to Jingzhou, and Xiangyang gradually became a metropolitan hub.

To the south were Zhonglu, Linju, Qi, and Yicheng counties; to the north, Shandu, Deng, Fan City, and Caiyang—within a forty-square-kilometer radius, there were over ten county towns, and the population exceeded a million.

The pair followed Gan Ning for two kilometers through the city until they reached his home.

It was a grand mansion; Gan Ning, living extravagantly, had considerable wealth and demanded luxury in life. Though claiming to live alone, he had two or three dozen servants.

At the gate, servants took their horse and donkey to the stable in the rear. The pair followed Gan Ning into the courtyard, heading toward the main hall.

By now, night had fully fallen—about nine o’clock. Gan Ning ordered the household to prepare wine and dishes for the guests.

Deng Hong offered polite refusals, but Gan Ning’s enthusiasm prevailed. Soon, candles were lit in the hall, and the room grew bright.

As the food was being served, Gan Ning turned to Deng Hong and asked, “Sir, your learning is impressive. May I ask, what position are you heading to in Xiangyang?”

Deng Hong replied, a bit embarrassed, “I am to serve as clerk in the governor’s library.”

Gan Ning frowned. “With such learning, you are only appointed as a clerk?”

“In truth, I…” Deng Hong began, about to say his talents were modest.

But Shen Chen interjected, “In these troubled times, men of learning are not always valued. You, General, are a man of great prowess, yet are relegated to guarding the city gate.”

Gan Ning’s expression changed, and he sighed, saying nothing.

Deng Hong hastily said, “Ah Chen…”

Shen Chen ignored him and continued, “By the way, may I ask the General’s name?”

“I am Gan Ning of Ba Commandery, styled Xingba.”

Deng Hong immediately replied, “I am Deng Hong of Xinye, styled Youshuo. This is my grandson, Shen Chen, eight years old. He sometimes speaks without restraint—please forgive him, General.”

Gan Ning waved his hand. “It’s nothing; the child speaks truly. I could not stand the Liu father and son in Yi Province, so I rebelled. After joining Liu Biao, he placed me under Zhang Yun, and now I spend my days guarding the gate, which is infuriating.”

Shen Chen said, “I’ve heard of your reputation, General—renowned as a knight in Ba and Shu. Yet Liu Biao does not value you, for he neglects military affairs. In my view, his foundation will one day be taken from him.”

“Ah Chen, you…” Deng Hong’s eyes nearly popped out, rushing to cover his mouth.

But Gan Ning was not angered at all; he seemed to have found a kindred spirit, and began to scrutinize Shen Chen in wonder. “You, child… Wait, when I questioned earlier, you whispered to your elder. Was it…”

Deng Hong sighed. “General is correct; it was Ah Chen who answered. He’s been exceptionally gifted since childhood. Last year, when we visited Governor Liu of Jingzhou, it was because of Ah Chen that I was appointed clerk.”

“Remarkable, that the child is truly learned. I have thought much the same,” Gan Ning said. “After I rebelled against Liu Zhang and joined Liu Biao, I found his military lax, his officers mere wine sacks and rice bags. Those of us who can fight are never used, idling day after day. In time, Jingzhou will surely be lost.”

Deng Hong was surprised. “If so, why not leave?”

Gan Ning replied with self-mockery, “I grew up on the great river and wish only to remain in the south, serving a wise lord. But now, having fallen out with Liu Zhang in Yi Province, and with Jiangdong in chaos and no true leader emerging, I am forced to stay with Liu Biao, getting by as best I can.”

Shen Chen laughed. “Don’t lose heart, General. The Book of Changes says, ‘The gentleman keeps his talents hidden, waiting for the right moment to act.’ What you lack is not a wise lord, but an opportunity. Until then, you must be prepared.”

“Oh?” Gan Ning was curious. “What are your thoughts?”

Shen Chen answered, “Nanyang is a fine place. I predict that in two years, Nanyang will be thrown into chaos. General, you should seize the chance, join us to expand your forces, occupy some cities, nurture your troops, and when the time comes, display your talents to the fullest.”

Gan Ning laughed. “Though Liu Biao neglects military matters, he still has tens of thousands of troops—west to Ba and Shu, north to Henan, east to Wu and Yue, and south to Jiaozhi. No one yet has the strength to challenge him. Who would attack Nanyang?”

Shen Chen smiled confidently. “If you don’t believe me, you’ll see next year or the year after. Someone will surely assault Wancheng. Let’s wait and see.”

“Very well, I’d like to see if your words prove true.”

Gan Ning could not be swayed by a child’s words alone, nor would any adult be convinced so easily. Until prophecy becomes reality, everyone has their own views, save for the indecisive.

Shen Chen said, “If my prediction comes to pass, what will you do, General?”

Gan Ning replied without hesitation, “It will show you truly understand the world’s affairs. Then, whatever you say, I will follow.”

“Agreed.”

“Agreed.”

“Remember to find me then, General,” Shen Chen said, his eyes gleaming with a fox-like cunning.

Since the Huangmen Pavilion incident, he had reflected deeply. His greatest mistake was failing to foresee that Cao Cao would hear of him, resulting in the massacre of over a hundred kin at Zengyang.

Since then, he made a habit of daily self-examination and strategy, growing steadily in intellect and cunning.

Perhaps this was the best interpretation of the saying, “Each day, I examine myself thrice.”