Chapter Three: The Outbreak of the Yellow Turban Rebellion

At night, Roang stood in Cai Yong’s courtyard, gazing at the full moon shining like a polished mirror in the sky. A torrent of sorrow swept over him; after all, it had been two days since he arrived in this era, and he knew nothing of his family’s current circumstances.

Roang pondered silently: I wonder how Father and the others are doing now? I’ve been here for two days already—are they crying so much that their eyes are red?

At this thought, he sighed, shook his head, and tears welled at the corners of his eyes.

Cai Yan watched Roang’s behavior from the side, feeling an indescribable emotion stir within her.

She whispered, “Roang’s distress must be caused by upheaval in his family.”

Yet she did not know that Roang had traveled from the future to this era, and that his family was heartbroken by his mysterious disappearance, unable to fathom where their child had gone.

Roang entered his room, his gaze falling upon the scroll of “Prelude to the Water Melody—When Will the Moon Be Clear and Bright” lying on the desk, his eyes shimmering with tears. He had transcribed Su Shi’s poem from memory, driven by longing for his parents in the future.

He then went to the bed, lay down, and began to reminisce about his parents.

Cai Yan entered quietly, saw Roang lying on the bed, and did not disturb him. She picked up the scroll on the desk and began to read.

Softly, she recited: “When will the moon be clear and bright? I raise my cup to ask the heavens. I do not know in the celestial palaces, what year it is tonight. I long to ride the wind and return, yet fear the cold of jade towers high above. Dancing with my shadow, how unlike life among mortals. The moon circles red chambers, dips behind silk windows, shines upon the sleepless. Should not bear resentment; why must it always be full at times of parting? People experience sorrow and joy, partings and reunions; the moon waxes and wanes, full and crescent—this has always been so. May those we love live long, and share the moon’s beauty, though thousands of miles apart.”

She nodded in admiration, exclaiming, “What a remarkable composition!”

“It is a lyric, not a prose poem,” Roang replied, having risen unnoticed and walked to Cai Yan’s side.

Cai Yan, surprised that Roang had approached without her noticing, asked, “What is a lyric?”

Roang spoke eloquently: “A lyric differs from poetry; it is a new literary form. It is also called ‘musical lyric’ or ‘tune lyric,’ with alternative names such as modern yuefu, variable-length verse, lyric, musical poem, string melody, poetic afterthought, and so on. Lyrics are composed to accompany music, and tune names denote the musical patterns. Each tune has specific rules for the number of lines, the number of words per line, and tonal arrangement.

“Every lyric has a musical tune, which isn’t the title but rather the pattern for composition. Each tune possesses fixed rules—structure, lines, syllables, and tone—all differ. Lyrics generally divide into two sections, called upper and lower stanzas, rarely more. Some are single-section, called single-tune; some two, called double-tune; some three or four, called triple or quadruple repetition. Section divisions follow musical notation, marking where the melody repeats. The relationship between sections is a pause in music, not the end of the piece. Several sections together form a complete musical composition.”

Cai Yan was so shaken by Roang’s explanation that she could not compose herself for a long time.

“Old as I am, this is the first I’ve heard the term ‘lyric’!” Cai Yong entered, remarking.

Roang saw Cai Yong arrive and bowed respectfully, “Sir!”

Cai Yan addressed Cai Yong, “Father!”

Cai Yong accepted the bamboo scroll containing “Prelude to the Water Melody—When Will the Moon Be Clear and Bright” from Cai Yan, read it, and praised, “I did not expect what Zicheng wrote to rival Sima Xiangru’s ‘Phoenix Seeks Mate’!”

“You flatter me, sir. Compared to Sima Xiangru, I am as earth to heaven.”

A few days later, the Yellow Turban Rebellion erupted in Julu, spreading swiftly across several counties.

News soon reached Luoyang.

Emperor Ling of Han learned that the Yellow Turban Rebellion had broken out in Julu. Though he could scarcely believe it, he felt somewhat reassured, recalling Roang’s warnings.

He Jin stepped forward and addressed the emperor: “Your Majesty, the situation is critical. Please allow the provinces and counties to raise troops against the enemy, and let the former general lead forces to resist.”

“Very well, I will follow your advice,” replied Emperor Ling, trembling.

He Jin thanked the emperor and departed to convey his orders.

Roang received the imperial edict instructing him to lead troops against the Yellow Turbans, his heart filled with surprise and delight.

He thought to himself: I never imagined that, only days after arriving in this era, the emperor would send me to the battlefield. It seems I must prove myself.

With that, he began recruiting soldiers and horses, preparing to defeat the Yellow Turbans and establish himself as a regional lord, thus embarking on the path to unify the realm.

Cai Yong, upon hearing the emperor had sent Roang to the front, was startled and hurried to Roang’s room.

Roang, seeing Cai Yong rush in, asked, puzzled, “What’s the matter, sir? Your expression suggests someone has angered you.”

Cai Yong, steadying his breath, said, “Zicheng, you lack martial skills and are a frail scholar—how could you possibly lead troops into battle?”

Roang, thinking it was nothing serious, replied, “I thought it was something grave! Sir, rest assured, I will be fine! Lu Zhi, though not a warrior, is still leading troops to battle. Please let me go to the battlefield and serve the court!”

Cai Yong sighed and said, “Since you have such resolve, I cannot force you otherwise. Remember: you must return alive!”

“Yes,” Roang replied with a smile.

The next morning, Roang joined Lu Zhi, Huangfu Song, and Zhu Jun in recruiting and preparing to campaign against the Yellow Turbans.

Huangfu Song, learning of Roang’s recruitment, came to Cai Yong’s residence to meet the author of “Reply to the Dream of the Boudoir’s Return” and “Prelude to the Water Melody—When Will the Moon Be Clear and Bright.” He clasped his hands and said, “I have long heard of Zicheng’s fame. To meet you today is a blessing beyond compare!”

“General Huangfu’s reputation precedes you. Why be so modest?” Roang flattered him to secure his own place in this era, then returned to the main point: “May I ask the reason for your visit?”

Huangfu Song did not hide his intentions and explained, “I heard Zicheng is also recruiting to fight the Yellow Turbans?”

Roang responded candidly, “Indeed.”

Huangfu Song tried to persuade him, “Ah, Zicheng, you are but a scholar—how can you lead troops in battle?”

“General, you misunderstand. In ancient times, Jiang Ziya was a civil official, yet led armies to overthrow the Shang and aid King Wu in founding the Zhou dynasty. Though I am but a scholar, I possess a heart devoted to the nation and its people. As a subject of the Han, I must serve faithfully!”

Huangfu Song was deeply moved by Roang’s words, for few now expressed such devotion to the Han.

He declared, “Since Zicheng is so committed to serving the Han, I shall aid you in recruiting soldiers!”

“Thank you, General,” Roang replied, clasping his hands.

Within days, Roang had gathered five thousand soldiers, each one capable of fighting a hundred foes.

Roang led his well-trained troops and joined the court’s military officials to suppress the Yellow Turbans.

A general rode up to Roang and asked, “General, the Yellow Turbans number in the hundreds of thousands, while our force is only five thousand. How can we match them?”

Roang patiently explained, “Victory depends on the quality, not quantity, of troops, and on strategy, not mere bravery. We are not the only ones fighting the Yellow Turbans; the court has sent other forces as well. So these five thousand are sufficient.”

The general listened intently, clasped his hands, and said, “General, your words have enlightened me!”

Roang, pleased by the general’s attentive manner, asked, “May I know your name?”

“I am Pan Zhang, from Fagan in Dong County,” replied Pan Zhang.

Roang’s mind instantly recalled all information about Pan Zhang, thinking: So it is him!

He then said, “Pan Zhang, you shall lead two thousand five hundred as the vanguard; I will follow with the rest!”

“Understood,” Pan Zhang replied and departed.

Roang watched Pan Zhang go, uncertain whether his plan to defeat the Yellow Turbans was the right one.

Many generals led their armies onto the battlefield and engaged the Yellow Turbans.

On the field, Cao Cao and Pan Zhang, commanding Roang’s elite troops, drove the Yellow Turbans into chaotic retreat.

Roang brought his remaining two thousand five hundred soldiers, joining Pan Zhang in assaulting the Yellow Turbans.

Pan Zhang pointed ahead, asking, “General, there is a red-faced general fighting the Yellow Turbans alone. Should we assist him?”

“Go help him!” Roang said, following Pan Zhang’s gesture. He saw the red-faced general battling the Yellow Turbans, his strength waning.

Roang and Pan Zhang led their troops, fighting their way through the Yellow Turbans to rescue the red-faced general.

The red-faced general, seeing Roang and Pan Zhang arrive, was both surprised and delighted.

They soon reached his side.

The red-faced general clasped his hands in thanks, “Thank you both for coming to my aid! May I know your names?”

“I am Roang, also called Zicheng; beside me is my general, Pan Zhang!” Roang gave their names.

“Are you the one who wrote ‘Reply to the Dream of the Boudoir’s Return’ and ‘Prelude to the Water Melody—When Will the Moon Be Clear and Bright’?”

Roang replied, “I am.”

“I am Guan Yu, styled Yunchang,” Guan Yu said, clasping his hands. “I have long admired your reputation, General. To meet you on the battlefield is fortune indeed!”

Pan Zhang turned to Roang, “General, the enemy grows ever more numerous.”

Roang saw the swelling ranks of the enemy, so he led his army with Guan Yu and Pan Zhang, slaying the surrounding foes.

Soon, the court’s forces crushed the Yellow Turbans. Zhang Bao and Zhang Liang perished on the battlefield, while Zhang Jiao escaped.

Roang gazed at the corpses strewn across the field, unable to shake off his feelings—the scene before him was his first such experience.

Guan Yu, noticing Roang’s gaze, understood this was his first time in battle. He said, “General, it’s quite natural to be unsettled your first time witnessing such carnage. With more battles, you will grow accustomed.”

Roang said nothing, merely nodding.

Thus, the Yellow Turban Rebellion was suppressed, and Roang began his quest to seize and unify the empire.