Chapter 7: Storytelling

The nickname "Daoren" belonged to Gao Yin. He took out the manuscript and respectfully handed it to Gao Yang. "This is a story I wrote recently after reading the Records of the Three Kingdoms. I composed it as a ‘romance’ for Your Majesty to peruse."

Gao Yang glanced at the title, *Popular Romance of the Three Kingdoms*, and showed some interest. "Oh? The Records of the Three Kingdoms? Which three kingdoms are these?"

Yang Yin stood and replied, "They should be the *Records of Wei*, *Records of Shu*, and *Records of Wu*. When the Crown Prince speaks of the Three Kingdoms, it must be the combination of these three."

Chen Shou’s *Records of the Three Kingdoms* were originally circulated as separate accounts of Wei, Shu, and Wu, only later unified during the Northern Song Dynasty. Therefore, references to the Three Kingdoms were quite unfamiliar to people of this era.

Gao Yang read a few lines, then straightened up and recited aloud the preface:

“The mighty Yangtze River flows eastward, washing away heroes in its waves... Right and wrong, success and failure all turn to emptiness in a glance. The green hills remain, how many times have the sunsets blushed red?”

“White-haired fishermen and woodcutters on river islets are accustomed to watching the autumn moon and spring breeze. A pot of turbid wine brings joyous reunion. How many affairs of ancient and modern times are entrusted to laughter and talk?”

Though the poem’s structure was unusual, it carried profound sorrow and lamentation. The map of history seemed to unfold slowly before their eyes, a desolate feeling sweeping over them, stirring a bittersweet mood.

After a moment’s reflection, Gao Yang inexplicably shook his head, then handed the manuscript to the eunuch Qi Shao. “Read it.”

Qi Shao, literate and confident, began to recite loudly: “The general trend of the world is that division follows unity, and unity follows division. During the end of the Zhou dynasty, the seven states contended and were eventually unified by Qin. After Qin’s collapse, Chu and Han fought, and Han ultimately prevailed. The Han dynasty began with Emperor Gaozu’s uprising, symbolized by slaying the white serpent, uniting the realm. Later, Emperor Guangwu restored the dynasty, which continued until Emperor Xian, when it divided into three kingdoms...”

In just a few words, the narrative summarized from the late Zhou to the end of Han, touching on the turbulent events involving Emperor Ling, the Ten Eunuchs, and the three Zhang brothers. The twists and turns fascinated Gao Yang, for he had never heard this story before. Encouraged, he nodded repeatedly as Qi Shao’s voice grew stronger, attracting the attention of Gao Zhan and others on the west side.

On the east side, some women listened briefly before returning to report that they were uninterested.

“The announcement reached Zhuo County, revealing a hero from there. The man was not fond of studying; his nature was gentle and taciturn, showing no emotion in anger or joy. He harbored great ambitions and delighted in befriending heroes across the land...”

Those familiar with the tale recognized this as a reference to Liu Bei, the founder of Shu Han. More perceptive listeners sensed an allegory pointing to Gao Huan and Gao Yang themselves.

Liu Bei hailed from Zhuo County, while the Martial Emperor Gao Huan came from Xiuxian in Bohai, not far apart geographically. Both were outstanding in appearance and capable of rallying many followers, attracting heroic talents.

Moreover, before his ascension, Gao Yang was unremarkable, silent and reserved—politely put, he was biding his time, much like Liu Bei’s “emotions concealed.”

One could imagine that when the Crown Prince wrote this *Romance of the Three Kingdoms*, he merged the Emperor and the Martial Emperor into one figure.

The first volume’s Oath of the Peach Garden was a subtle nod to Sima Ziru, Sun Teng, and other meritorious officials honored in the Martial Emperor’s ancestral temple.

Gao Yang himself caught on, listening with considerable pleasure.

Qi Shao, skilled in storytelling though unfamiliar with the Three Kingdoms, knew Zhang Fei was hot-tempered and deliberately adopted a rough tone from the second sentence, adding emotion. Gradually, his rhythmic narration drew everyone into the world of the book, while a clever musician adjusted the accompaniment to match his cadence.

“What fate befell Dong Zhuo? Listen further to find out.”

Having finished the first chapter, Qi Shao bowed and returned the manuscript, awaiting Gao Yang’s reaction.

Gao Yang urged eagerly, “Quick, quick! Is there a second chapter? Continue!”

The audience was captivated, even Kang Huer was enthralled, holding his breath and glaring around. Gao Yin noticed and smiled inwardly.

The second chapter began with Zhang Fei attempting to kill Dong Zhuo, restrained by Liu Bei and Guan Yu, eliciting sighs from many. Gao Zhan exclaimed indignantly, “That Dong Zhuo fellow is no good!”

Yang Yin and the Han scholars stroked their beards, half-smiling. His remark revealed his limited historical knowledge—Dong Zhuo’s deeds would become far more significant later; he certainly wouldn't die so soon.

Then came the scene of Liu Bei whipping the inspector. Everyone cheered loudly. Here, Gao Yin’s rendition differed from Luo Guanzhong’s version, partly because historically Liu Bei did whip the inspector, and partly because Liu Bei was a shadow of Gao Huan and Gao Yang, naturally deserving the spotlight here.

Next, the Ten Eunuchs assassinated General-in-Chief He Jin; Yuan Shao and others executed the eunuchs; Dong Zhuo abducted the Prince of Chenliu, attempted to depose and enthrone emperors without success, then conspired with Lü Bu to kill Ding Yuan and seize control of the court. The plot twisted and turned, climax after climax, sparking lively discussion.

Some pulled on Yang Yin’s and Yan Zixian’s sleeves, asking if such events truly occurred at the end of Han. They could only reply, “More or less so.”

Interestingly, when the narrative reached Dong Zhuo’s usurpation of the throne, few commented, and even Qi Shao’s voice softened considerably.

When the eighteen warlords launched their campaign against Dong Zhuo, and Guan Yu famously sliced Hua Xiong while warming wine, the atmosphere grew lively again. Someone even pulled out a pair of cymbals, though afraid to strike them, waving them about instead, provoking laughter.

After the fifth chapter, where the three heroes defeated Lü Bu, Gao Yang was the first to applaud, followed by his ministers in unison, praising the narration.

Seeing Qi Shao’s dry throat and parched tongue, Gao Yang allowed him to rest, then summoned Gao Yin to his side. “Well written! Much better than those dry, dull pieces you produced before!”

“Your Majesty’s words honor me. If it pleases Your Majesty, then my writing is worthwhile.”

Gao Yang patted his slender frame, noting he was still frail compared to himself at that age. “Make several copies of this and the following chapters, and send them to the Cool Breeze Hall.”

“Indeed! More entertaining than Jin Ganbao’s *In Search of the Supernatural*, and easier to read.”

Gao Yan had already taken the manuscript and casually flipped through it, praising Gao Yin’s handwriting. “Later, I’ll have my secretaries copy a few more. It’s a pity, though—his handwriting isn’t as pleasing as the Crown Prince’s.”

Gao Yin immediately shared an idea with Gao Yang: “I have a notion that could not only ease the burden of copying for the Imperial Uncle but also make reading easier for all under heaven.”

Gao Yang raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Don’t exaggerate.”

Gao Yin waved, signaling Kang Huer forward. Kang produced two wooden blocks and respectfully handed one to Gao Yang.

Gao Yang lazily accepted it, initially indifferent, but upon closer inspection, his expression changed to surprise. “This is...”

The front was covered with characters, the back with their mirror-image reversed forms. Gao Yin dabbed ink on the reversed characters on the other block, pressed it onto paper, and in the next moment, the yellow sheet revealed a complete article.

The assembled nobles’ faces changed. It wasn’t that they were inexperienced, but this technology dazzled them, almost overturning the current practice of handwritten copying.

“I’ve calculated that a printer can produce 1,500 to 2,000 sheets a day, and a single block can be used over ten thousand times. If the state wishes to publish books or implement policies down the line, this technology will greatly facilitate that. I call it ‘block printing.’”

Everyone examined the block in Gao Yin’s hand, and when it came to Yan Zixian, he clicked his tongue in admiration. “If every book had such neat characters... the Crown Prince’s fame would truly spread across the four seas.”

This was no exaggeration, for it was one of the Four Great Inventions.

Paper had become widely available, making mass production of various books possible, accelerating the spread of knowledge, and planting the seeds of learning across the realm. Its impact on scholars and literati would be immeasurable.

By this single innovation, Gao Yin’s standing among the literati would be assured, only rising with time. It would firmly capture the hearts of the learned.

Even the established aristocratic families, who might resist knowledge monopolies, would find resistance futile.

Block printing was invented by the prominent aristocracy in the mid-Tang period. Moreover, in these chaotic times, mere survival was a feat for noble houses; they wouldn’t risk offending scholars and the imperial family by opposing a technology beneficial to all.

Besides, the aristocrats themselves needed printing. After years of war, life was precarious, let alone preserving their libraries. Once this technology was adopted, their demand would be greatest.