Volume One: Flames at the Border Chapter Two: The Chen Family Stronghold

During the Wei and Jin period, men often had single-character given names, and their courtesy names frequently included characters such as “Zi,” “Zhi,” or “Jing.” Thus, He Yu gave himself the courtesy name “Yuzhi.”

He Yu’s memories were somewhat hazy, but he recalled that his ancestral home, Changshu, should have belonged to Jinling Commandery during the Eastern Jin. Without worrying whether this was accurate, he blurted it out.

On this bitterly cold day, as the ox cart rolled along, the sudden addition of He Yu—a charming and talkative peer—seemed to lift Lin Denger’s spirits. Curiosity sparkled in her eyes as she asked, “Young Master Yuzhi, everyone says the south of the Yangtze is especially beautiful. Is that really true?”

He Yu knew the Jiangnan of the 21st century as a land of prosperity, but he had never actually seen it during the Eastern Jin. He could only reply vaguely, “Well, it’s not bad. It’s certainly more stable than the North, but the poor still suffer greatly.”

“As long as there’s no war, that’s good enough. Everyone says the south is wonderful, especially beautiful.” Lin Denger rested her hands on her knees, her face aglow with longing.

A thought flashed through He Yu’s mind. He almost said, “Miss Denger, if there’s a chance, I’ll take you to see the south.” But as the words reached his lips, he checked himself abruptly—this was the Eastern Jin, a time of constant chaos. Though he was skilled, survival itself was uncertain. How could he so easily promise a trip to Jiangnan?

Their gentle conversation helped He Yu ignore the pain in his body for a while.

The ox cart creaked through the snowy wilderness for nearly three hours. As dusk deepened and the wind and snow thickened, He Yu gradually pieced together the situation. The old man was Lin Su, from a family of hereditary soldiers, just past seventy. He’d had three sons, all lost to war, leaving only his granddaughter Lin Denger as family.

The two now lived under the protection of the Chen clan stronghold in Yanmen Commandery, scraping by. Today, they had gone to the fortress to sell charcoal.

He Yu’s mind raced through his knowledge: At the end of the Western Jin, the upheaval of the Eight Kings’ Rebellion occurred. The Hu tribes, resettled within the borders, seized the opportunity to cause chaos, massacring the Han people in what became known as the “Five Barbarians’ Invasion of China.” To survive, the local people fled south across the Yangtze or east to Liaodong. Those who could not escape gathered their clans and neighbors, fortifying themselves in walled strongholds, defending what they could.

These fortresses survived in part due to their military might and in part because the authorities, beset by endless wars, had no energy to interfere. Both sides compromised—the fortresses paid taxes, and the rulers granted them a degree of political autonomy, allowing them to exist.

After another half hour, the ox cart stopped abruptly. Through the swirling snow, He Yu made out a fortress rising between two hills, imposing and grand. Its main gate faced south, and before it lay a wide moat, frozen solid, easily twenty meters across. A drawbridge hung partially lowered. The fortress walls were lined with banners and blazing torches—clearly, guards were on duty.

Lin Su called out loudly to the wall, “Brothers above, it’s old Lin Su, back from selling charcoal! Open the gate!”

He shouted several times before there was a response. Someone with a torch peered down.

Soon, a side gate opened on the fortress’s left. A squad of armed guards, each holding a weapon or bow, filed out in single file.

The drawbridge descended slowly.

With a flick of his whip, Lin Su drove the ox cart across the bridge to the gate.

A burly guard stepped forward. “Old Master Lin, you’re back late tonight—was there trouble on the road?” His gaze fell on He Yu, and his expression turned wary. “And who’s this? He’s not one of us. Old Master Lin, why did you bring an outsider in?”

Lin Su pulled two wooden tokens from his coat, handing them over for inspection as he explained, “This young gentleman is He Yu, from the south. He came north seeking family, was attacked by bandits, and left for dead in the snow. I rescued him.”

He Yu, unfamiliar with the place and mindful that too many words could be dangerous, simply grinned foolishly at the guard.

The guard studied his odd expression, frowned, and instructed, “Old Master Lin, times are troubled, we can’t afford to be careless. Tomorrow, see the steward and get this young master a waist token.”

With a wave, he let them pass.

Lin Su bowed and drove the cart inside.

Once they were some distance away, He Yu whispered, “Miss Denger, they really inspect everyone coming in and out of Chen Fortress. They’re very cautious!”

Lin Denger nodded, still shaken. “They have to be. Last year, over the mountain, Sanyang Fortress let in a Jie barbarian by mistake. In a single night, more than eight hundred people were wiped out—such a big fortress, gone just like that.”

He Yu had only read about the chaos of the Eastern Jin, never experienced it. The horror in Lin Denger’s voice struck him with a force no book could convey.

He reminded himself grimly: In days to come, every step must be taken with utmost care—a single misstep could be fatal.

The fortress was expansive, filled with pavilions and houses, but the blowing snow made everything indistinct.

The ox cart rolled along the inner wall for another quarter hour, then climbed a small hill and stopped.

On the hill stood three thatched cottages, a fence enclosing a small yard—it was clearly their home.

Lin Denger shook the snow from her hair and clothes, jumped down from the cart, and reached up to help He Yu. “Be careful, Young Master Yuzhi, we’re home.”

After jolting around in the cart all day, He Yu was eager to stretch his legs. Without thinking, he slid off the cart, but the instant his feet touched the ground, a searing pain shot through his chest. His vision went black and his body collapsed.

Lin Denger cried out in alarm and caught him.

Hearing the commotion, Lin Su hurried over and supported He Yu’s arm. “Young master, does anything hurt?”

He Yu took a few ragged breaths. The pain eased. “I’m much better now, probably just numb from sitting. It’s nothing.”

The two helped him into the cottage through the snow-laden yard, their feet sinking softly into the drifts.

Inside the westernmost cottage, snowlight filtered through the paper windows. The room held only a bed, a table, and two small wooden stools, polished smooth with use. The bed was much lower than those of modern times.

He Yu knew that before the Wei and Jin period, Han Chinese sat on mats, so furniture was low; only from the Eastern Jin did furniture start to rise in height.

The old man and his granddaughter settled He Yu on the bed, removed his shoes and socks, and pulled a heavy quilt over him. He Yu felt beneath him a thick layer of straw, and the quilt was made of coarse hemp, stuffed with something soft, like down. He guessed it was dried reed fluff. Cotton had yet to appear in China; the wealthy used silk or animal furs to keep warm, the poor relied on straw and reeds.

Lin Denger brought in a brazier, kindled a fire, and lit a small oil lamp on the table. The bluish flame flickered, casting a homely glow.

He Yu was moved. “Thank you. Otherwise… I…”

Emotion choked off his words.

Lin Su chuckled, patting his shoulder. “Rest easy, young master. Everyone meets with mishaps far from home. I’ll fetch a physician to look at you.” Turning to his granddaughter, he asked, “Denger, do we have food left? Get something for Young Master Yuzhi—he must be hungry.”

With that, Lin Su stepped outside.

Lin Denger smiled at He Yu. “Young Master Yuzhi, you rest. I’ll make you some soup noodles.”

Lin Denger’s home consisted of three main rooms and two low sheds to the east and west, serving as kitchen and chicken coop.

After the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, Lin Denger returned with a wooden tray. On it were a bowl of soup noodles and a small bowl of steamed egg. The crockery was rough earthenware.

She helped He Yu sit up and served him at the bed.

The soup noodles resembled modern-day hand-pulled noodle soup or knife-cut noodles. The egg custard was pale yellow and fragrant, revealing Lin Denger’s skill in the kitchen.

After eating, warmth returned to He Yu’s body. His limbs regained their strength; even the pain in his chest subsided considerably.

Lin Denger cleared away the dishes and took his shoes and socks to the brazier to dry. The warm, earthy scent of feet mingled with the air. He Yu felt a little embarrassed and stole a glance at Lin Denger. The flickering firelight set her cheeks aglow—simple and lovely.

As she toasted the shoes and socks, Lin Denger exclaimed in admiration, “They say the south is wonderful—now I believe it! Young Master Yuzhi, we don’t have boots like yours in the north, nor socks like these—I’ve never seen such things.”

He Yu hesitated. “These shoes and socks are standard-issue for special forces, warm in winter, cool in summer, sturdy and high-tech. Even in the 21st century, money can’t buy them, let alone in the Eastern Jin, sixteen centuries ago.”

At a loss for explanation, a sudden inspiration struck him. He felt for the ID tag hanging from his neck, took it off, and handed it to Denger. “Here, this is for you.”

The ID tag, alloy and shining in the lamplight, was known as a “dog tag.”

Lin Denger waved her hands in alarm. “Young Master Yuzhi, this is too precious! I can’t accept it—Grandfather would scold me.”

He Yu almost laughed. “She’s mistaken it for silver. Understandable, since currency in the Eastern Jin was chaotic—silver was valuable.”

“Miss Denger, look closely—it’s not silver but a special iron token. You can wear it for fun.”

Afraid she would refuse, He Yu feigned distress. “Where I come from, if a patient gives someone a gift, it mustn’t be turned down, or… or… they won’t recover.”

He made it up as he went.

“Ah! Is that so?” Lin Denger was startled, then quickly accepted. “Young Master Yuzhi, I truly didn’t know. If that’s the case, I’ll take it.”

“That’s right.” He Yu gently fastened the tag around her neck. The dancing lamp light shimmered on the alloy surface, making it quite a distinctive ornament.