As Gongsun Sheng was speaking with Chao Gai in the inner chamber, telling him that the Birthday Gifts from Beijing were ill-gotten wealth and no crime to seize, a man burst in from outside and grabbed hold of Gongsun Sheng, crying: "How dare you! I've heard everything you were plotting!" It was none other than Wu Yong, the Wizard.

Chao Gai laughed. "Professor, don't be alarmed. Please, come and meet our guest."

The two exchanged formal greetings, and Wu Yong said: "I have long heard of the fame of Gongsun Sheng, the Dragon in the Clouds, throughout the rivers and lakes. I never thought we would meet here today!"

Chao Gai said: "This learned gentleman is Wu Yong, the Wizard."

Gongsun Sheng replied: "I too have often heard of your reputation, Master Wu. What fortune that fate has brought us together at Squire Chao's estate! It is because the squire is generous with his wealth and righteous in his deeds that heroes from all corners of the realm seek his patronage."

Chao Gai said: "There are a few more acquaintances inside. Let us go to the rear hall and meet them properly."

The three went within, where they met Liu Tang and the three Ruan brothers. All seven sat down together.

"Today's gathering is no accident," said the others. "Please, Squire Chao, take the seat of honor."

Chao Gai protested: "I am but a poor host. How dare I presume to sit at the head?"

Wu Yong said: "Squire Chao is the eldest among us. If you will follow my counsel, please take the first seat."

So Chao Gai reluctantly sat in the first position, Wu Yong second, Gongsun Sheng third, Liu Tang fourth, Ruan the Second fifth, Ruan the Fifth sixth, and Ruan the Seventh last. Fresh cups were set out, wine was poured, and the seven drank together.

Wu Yong spoke: "The squire dreamed of the seven stars of the Northern Dipper falling upon his roofbeam. Today we seven gather to undertake this enterprise—surely this is heaven's sign! That fortune is within our grasp. Earlier we discussed sending Brother Liu to scout the route by which the gifts will come. It grows late now, but tomorrow at dawn he can set out."

Gongsun Sheng said: "There is no need for that. I have already learned the road they will take. They must pass over Yellow Mud Ridge on the main highway."

Chao Gai said: "Ten li east of Yellow Mud Ridge lies a village called Peaceful Grove. There lives an idler named Bai Sheng, nicknamed the Daytime Rat. He once came seeking my aid, and I gave him traveling money."

Wu Yong said: "The white light among the stars of the Dipper—might it be answered in this man? We will have need of him."

Liu Tang asked: "Yellow Mud Ridge is a fair distance away. Where can we find shelter?"

Wu Yong replied: "Bai Sheng's house shall be our refuge, and Bai Sheng himself shall serve us."

Chao Gai asked: "Master Wu, should we take the gifts by soft means or hard?"

Wu Yong smiled. "I have already laid out the snare. We shall see how they come—if force is needed, we use force; if cunning serves, we use cunning. I have a plan, and I ask whether it meets with your approval. It goes thus, and thus."

Chao Gai was delighted when he heard it, stamping his foot: "A wonderful scheme! No wonder you are called the Wizard! You surpass even Zhuge Liang himself! A fine stratagem!"

Wu Yong said: "Say no more of it. As the saying goes: walls have ears, and there is always someone outside the window. Let this be known only to us."

Chao Gai then said: "Brothers Ruan, return home for now, and come back to my estate at the appointed time. Master Wu, continue your teaching as usual. Gongsun Sheng and Liu Tang will stay here with me." They drank until evening, then each retired to his room.

At the fifth watch the next morning, they rose and ate breakfast. Chao Gai brought out thirty taels of silver and offered them to the three Ruan brothers: "A small token, please do not refuse."

The Ruans would not accept, but Wu Yong said: "This is a friend's kindness—do not hinder him." Only then did the three take the silver.

They were escorted to the gate, where Wu Yong whispered in their ears: "Do thus and thus. Do not fail at the appointed time." The three Ruan brothers took their leave and returned to Stone Tablet Village. Chao Gai kept Gongsun Sheng and Liu Tang at the estate, and Wu Yong came often to confer.

---

Now let us speak of Beijing's Grand Prefect Liang Shiju, who had purchased gifts worth a hundred thousand strings of cash for his father-in-law's birthday celebration. Everything was prepared, and a day had been chosen for departure. One day he sat in the rear hall, and Lady Cai asked him: "Husband, when will the Birthday Gifts be sent?"

Liang Shiju said: "All is ready—we leave within a day or two. But there is one matter that troubles me."

"What is it?"

"Last year I spent a hundred thousand strings on gold and jewels to send to the Eastern Capital. But because I chose the wrong man, the convoy was robbed en route, and nothing has been recovered to this day. This year I see no capable person before me to deliver them, and so I am undecided."

Lady Cai pointed to someone standing below the steps: "You have often said this man is extremely capable. Why not send him with a written bond of responsibility? He will not fail you."

Liang Shiju looked and saw it was Yang Zhi, the Blue-Faced Beast. Delighted, he summoned Yang Zhi before him and said: "I had forgotten you! If you deliver the Birthday Gifts for me, I shall see that you are promoted."

Yang Zhi stepped forward with clasped hands: "My lord's command—I dare not refuse! But how shall we prepare? When do we leave?"

Liang Shiju said: "We will commandeer ten carts from the prefecture, and assign ten guards to escort them. Each cart will fly a yellow banner reading 'Birthday Gifts for the Grand Tutor.' Each cart will also have a soldier attending it. We depart within three days."

Yang Zhi said: "It is not that I make excuses, but truly this cannot be done. I beg you to appoint some other able and careful man."

Liang Shiju was surprised: "I intend to promote you! In my letter to the Grand Tutor I will recommend you highly, so that you may receive an official appointment upon delivery. Why do you make difficulties and refuse?"

Yang Zhi replied: "My lord, I have heard how last year's convoy was robbed and never recovered. This year the roads are thick with bandits. The route to the Eastern Capital is entirely by land—no waterways. It passes through Purple Gold Mountain, Two Dragons Mountain, Peach Blossom Mountain, Umbrella Hill, Yellow Mud Ridge, White Sand Hollow, Wild Cloud Ford, and Red Pine Forest—all places where outlaws lurk. Even lone travelers dare not pass alone. When these bandits learn that gold and treasure are coming, how could they resist? We would only throw our lives away. That is why I say it cannot be done."

Liang Shiju said: "Then we shall send more soldiers to guard the convoy."

Yang Zhi said: "Even five hundred men would do no good. At the first cry of bandits, those fellows would all run off."

"So you're saying the Birthday Gifts should not be sent at all?"

Yang Zhi bowed again: "If my lord will agree to one condition, I dare undertake the mission."

"Since I am placing this in your hands, how could I not follow your advice?"

Yang Zhi said: "Then we take no carts. We pack the gifts into a dozen or so carrying poles, disguised as merchant goods. Select ten sturdy guards to pose as porters. One man alone will accompany me, both of us dressed as traveling merchants. We slip quietly by night to the Eastern Capital and deliver the gifts. That is the only way."

"You speak well," said Liang Shiju. "I shall write a letter recommending you for an official appointment upon your return."

Yang Zhi thanked him deeply. That very day he began preparing the bundles and selecting the men.

The next day, Liang Shiju summoned Yang Zhi before the hall: "When do you set out?"

"Tomorrow morning at dawn, with my written bond in hand," replied Yang Zhi.

Liang Shiju said: "My wife also has a gift for the Grand Tutor's household—a single load. You must take charge of it as well. Since you might not know the proper protocols, I am sending old Steward Xie and two attendants to accompany you."

Yang Zhi objected: "Then I cannot go at all!"

"Why not? The gifts are already packed!"

"These ten loads are my responsibility alone," said Yang Zhi. "With them, I command when we rise early or late, when we stop and when we rest—all according to my orders. But if the old steward and these attendants come along, they answer to Lady Cai and belong to the Grand Tutor's household. If they quarrel with me on the road, how dare I argue with them? If the mission fails, how could I explain myself?"

Liang Shiju said: "That is easily settled—I shall order all three to obey your commands."

Yang Zhi replied: "If that is truly ordered, I will gladly sign the bond. Should anything go wrong, I accept full punishment."

Liang Shiju was pleased: "It was not for nothing that I chose to promote you—you have real sense!" He summoned old Steward Xie and the two attendants and said before them all: "Yang Zhi has signed a written bond to escort the Birthday Gifts—eleven loads of gold and jewels—to the Grand Tutor's residence in the capital. The responsibility rests entirely upon him. You three accompany him, and on the road you must obey his orders in all matters—when to rise, when to travel, when to rest. Do not defy him. Whatever Lady Cai has entrusted to you, see to it yourselves. Be careful, go quickly, return quickly, and let nothing be lost."

The old steward acknowledged everything.

---

The next day, before dawn, Yang Zhi had all the loads laid out in the courtyard. The old steward and the two attendants added one more small load of valuables, making eleven in all, carried by eleven sturdy guards dressed as porters. Yang Zhi wore a wide-brimmed hat, a green gauze shirt, hempen sandals with cloth leggings, a sword at his waist, and carried a long saber-pole. The old steward dressed as a merchant, and the two attendants posed as servants. Each man carried a saber-pole, and several switches of rattan were brought along.

Liang Shiju handed over the official documents and letters. After all had eaten their fill, they bade farewell in the hall, took up the loads, and set out. Yang Zhi, old Steward Xie, and the two attendants supervised—fifteen men in all—leaving the city of Beijing by the main road toward the Eastern Capital.

It was mid-May, and though the sky was clear and bright, the heat was unbearable. The poet has written:

The jade screen spread, vermilion rails around, Fish sport among the duckweed without sound. A mat of white shrimp-whiskers, eight feet wide, A pillow carved of red agate beside. The six dragons dread the heat and dare not fly; The sea boils where the isles of Penglai lie. Even nobles find their fans too weak— While travelers toil upon the dusty street.

That verse speaks of the summer's heat, when lords and princes cool themselves in pavilions by the water, floating melons and sinking plums in ice, yet still complain of the warmth. How much worse for common folk who must walk the roads in the dog days of summer! But because they had to deliver the gifts by the fifteenth day of the sixth month, Yang Zhi's party was forced to travel. For the first five or six days after leaving Beijing, they rose at the fifth watch and traveled in the cool of early morning, resting when the sun grew fierce.

After that, villages became scarce and travelers few. The road wound through mountain passes. Yang Zhi now insisted on rising at mid-morning and stopping by late afternoon. The eleven guards found their loads unbearably heavy—not one was light—and in the heat they could barely walk. Whenever they saw a shady grove, they wanted to rest. But Yang Zhi drove them on relentlessly, cursing them roundly for any delay and beating them with his rattan switch when they stopped.

The two attendants, though carrying only their own bundles, were soon gasping for breath and lagging behind. Yang Zhi scolded them: "You two understand nothing! This responsibility falls on me—you don't help the porters, yet you dawdle at the rear. The road ahead is no laughing matter!"

One attendant said: "It's not that we wish to go slowly—the heat makes it impossible to keep up. Before, we traveled in the cool of morning. Now you insist on marching in the hottest part of the day. It makes no sense."

Yang Zhi snapped: "You talk like a fool! The road before was safe ground; now we are passing through dangerous country. If we don't push through by daylight, who would dare travel at night?" The attendants said nothing more, but thought to themselves: "This fellow has no right to curse us so."

Yang Zhi hurried ahead with his saber-pole and switch to drive the porters on. The two attendants sat down in the shade of a willow to wait for the old steward, then complained to him: "That Yang Zhi is nothing but a low-ranking officer in our lord's household, yet he acts like a grand marshal!"

The steward said: "Our lord told us not to quarrel with him, so I've held my tongue. But these last two days I can barely stomach him either."

"Those were just polite words from our lord," said the attendants. "You are the steward—you should take charge."

"We'll endure a little longer," said the old steward.

That day they stopped at an inn in mid-afternoon. The ten guards, drenched in sweat, sighed and groaned to the old steward: "We were unlucky enough to be made soldiers. We knew we'd be sent on some errand. But marching in this fiery heat with heavy loads, not even allowed to travel in the cool morning—and beaten at every turn! We're all born of flesh and blood like anyone else. Why must we suffer so?"

"Don't complain," said the steward. "When we reach the Eastern Capital, I'll reward you myself."

"If only you were our commander," they said, "we wouldn't dare complain."

They passed another night. Before dawn the next day, the men rose and wanted to set out while it was cool. Yang Zhi leaped up and shouted: "Where do you think you're going? Go back to sleep!"

"But if we don't leave now," protested the guards, "we'll have to march in the heat of day—and then you beat us for stopping!"

"What do you know?" Yang Zhi cursed, raising his switch. The men swallowed their anger and lay down again. They did not set out until mid-morning, after a leisurely breakfast, and all along the way Yang Zhi drove them on with curses and blows, forbidding them to rest in any shaded spot.

So they traveled for fourteen or fifteen days, and every one of the fourteen men nursed a grievance against Yang Zhi. On the fourth day of the sixth month, at mid-morning, they ate their breakfast and set out. By noon the sun hung like a red wheel overhead without a single cloud—the heat was unbearable. The old poem says:

The Fire God from the south drives his fiery dragon, Flame banners burn the heavens red. The sun at noon refuses to move on— All the world is in a furnace. The Five Peaks wither and their clouds dissolve; The River God mourns his boiling waves. When will an autumn wind arise To sweep this heat from the earth?

The road that day wound through desolate mountain paths, over northern hills and southern ridges. After some twenty li, the guards yearned to rest beneath the willow shade, but Yang Zhi drove them on with his switch: "Move! I'll let you rest soon enough!"

Looking at the sky—not a wisp of cloud in any direction—the men felt the heat was insupportable:

Steaming air and choking dust; The whole world like a steaming pot, A fiery umbrella overhead. No clouds across the wilds; Stillness—trees burn, streams crack dry. A thousand mountains blaze; Rocks split with popping sound to ash. Birds in the sky near death plunge into forest depths; Fish in the water shed their scales and burrow into mud. Even stone tigers gasp without rest; Even iron men sweat and drip.

Yang Zhi drove them on through that desolate mountain road. When the sun reached its zenith, the stones beneath their feet were so hot they burned, and the guards could barely walk.

"Such heat!" they groaned. "It will kill us!"

"Move!" shouted Yang Zhi. "Cross the ridge ahead, then we'll see."

They pressed on until they came to a bare earthen ridge. Looking at it:

Ten thousand green trees crown its top; A stretch of yellow sand at its base. Jagged as an old dragon's form, So steep that wind and rain seem always near. Mountain grass like scattered spears and swords; Loose stones where tigers and leopards might sleep. Say not the road to Shu is dangerous— This ridge may match Mount Tai itself.

The fifteen men climbed the ridge, set down their loads, and all fourteen immediately collapsed in the shade of the pine trees.

"Damn it!" cried Yang Zhi. "What sort of place is this to rest? Get up! Move on!"

"You could cut us into seven or eight pieces," groaned the guards, "but we can't go another step!"

Yang Zhi lashed out with his rattan switch, striking heads and shoulders. But as soon as he roused one man, another lay down. He was at his wit's end.

Just then the two attendants and the old steward came gasping up the ridge and sat down in the shade to catch their breath. Seeing Yang Zhi beating the soldiers, the steward said: "Captain, it truly is too hot to walk. Don't blame them."

"Steward," said Yang Zhi, "you don't understand! This very place—Yellow Mud Ridge by name—is where bandits lurk. Even in peaceful times they rob travelers here in broad daylight. Who would dare stop in such a spot?"

The attendants had heard enough: "You've said that a dozen times already! You're just trying to frighten us!"

The steward said: "Let them rest a while, and go on after midday."

"You have no sense either!" Yang Zhi insisted. "Beyond this ridge there's seven or eight li with not a single house. How can we rest here?"

"I'll sit a moment and then go on," said the steward. "You drive the men ahead if you like."

Yang Zhi raised his switch: "Any man who won't move gets twenty strokes!"

The guards all cried out together, and one of them stepped forward to argue: "Captain, we're carrying loads of a hundred catties or more—not like you, traveling empty-handed! You treat us like animals! Even if the marshal himself were escorting us, he'd let us speak our piece. Have you no feeling at all?"

Yang Zhi cursed: "This beast will be the death of me! Then I'll just have to beat him!" He raised his switch and struck him across the face.

The old steward shouted: "Captain Yang, stop! Hear what I have to say! When I served as nurse-steward in the Grand Tutor's mansion in the Eastern Capital, countless officers and soldiers passed before me, all bowing and scraping. I don't mean to boast, but you are nothing but a disgraced soldier whom our lord mercifully promoted to this petty rank—a post no bigger than a mustard seed! Yet you carry on as if you were someone great! Even if I were not the steward of his lordship's house—even if I were just some old man from the countryside—you should still heed my counsel. Beating these men like this—what sort of conduct is that?"

"Steward," said Yang Zhi, "you were raised in the city, in a minister's mansion. What do you know of the hardships of the road?"

"I've traveled to Sichuan and Guangdong before," said the steward, "and never seen anyone make such a show of himself."

"These are not peaceful times!"

"You should have your tongue cut out for saying that!" cried the steward. "What do you mean the empire is not at peace?"

Yang Zhi was about to retort when he caught sight of a figure in the pine grove opposite, peering out at them. "Didn't I say so?" he shouted. "There's a bandit spying on us!" He dropped his switch, seized his saber-pole, and rushed into the pines.

Speak of ghosts and ghosts appear; Speak of thieves and thieves draw near. They were all one family, Yet face to face they could not see.

Yang Zhi charged in and saw seven men stripped bare to the waist, cooling themselves beside a row of seven Jiangzhou carts. One of them, with a large red birthmark on his temple, came forward holding a saber-pole.

"Ah!" cried all seven together, leaping up.

"What sort of men are you?" demanded Yang Zhi.

The seven answered: "What sort of man are you?"

"Are you bandits?"

"You've got it backwards!" they said. "We're petty peddlers—we haven't any money for you!"

"You may be small traders," said Yang Zhi, "but I have big capital!"

"And who might you be?" asked the seven.

"Where are you from?" countered Yang Zhi.

"We are seven brothers from Haozhou," they replied. "We're taking dates to sell in the Eastern Capital and happened to pass this way. We'd heard that Yellow Mud Ridge is often plagued by bandits robbing merchants, so we said to ourselves: 'We have only dates and nothing else worth stealing.' So we crossed the ridge, but the heat was too much for us, so we stopped here in these woods to rest until evening cools. Then we heard someone coming up the ridge—we feared it might be robbers, so we sent this brother out to look."

"I see," said Yang Zhi. "So you're merchants like myself. I saw you spying and thought you were bandits, so I came to check."

"Won't you have some dates, sir?" asked the seven.

"No need." Yang Zhi picked up his saber-pole and returned to his loads.

The old steward said: "Since there might be thieves about, let's be going."

"I was wrong," said Yang Zhi. "They're only date peddlers."

"Just as you were saying—they could all be desperate men!" said the steward.

"No more quarreling," said Yang Zhi. "Let's just hope nothing happens. Rest a while, and we'll move on when it cools." The guards laughed among themselves. Yang Zhi stuck his saber-pole in the ground and sat down to rest under a tree.

---

Not half a bowl of rice later, they saw a man coming up the ridge from afar, carrying two buckets on a shoulder pole and singing as he came:

The burning sun like fire blazes; Field crops wither in the fields. The farmer's heart boils like hot water— While nobles fan themselves at ease.

Singing, he climbed the ridge and set down his load in the shade of the pines to rest.

"What have you got in those buckets?" asked the guards.

"White wine," said the man.

"Where are you taking it?"

"To the village yonder to sell."

"How much a bucket?"

"Five strings of cash."

The guards conferred among themselves: "We're hot and thirsty—why not buy some to quench our thirst?"

They were gathering their coins when Yang Zhi saw them and shouted: "What are you doing?"

"Buying wine to drink," they said.

Yang Zhi struck out with the shaft of his saber-pole: "How dare you buy wine without my permission!"

"What business is it of yours?" they protested. "We're spending our own money! Why do you beat us?"

"You country fools!" Yang Zhi cursed. "You understand nothing! All you think about is eating and drinking! You know nothing of the dangers of the road—how many good men have been drugged senseless with sleeping potions!"

The wine-seller looked at Yang Zhi with a cold smile: "What an unreasonable customer you are! Good thing I haven't sold you any—now you say such insulting words!"

As they were arguing, the date peddlers came out of the grove carrying their saber-poles. "What's all this commotion?" they asked.

"I'm just taking my wine to sell in the village," said the wine-seller. "It was hot, so I stopped here to rest. These men wanted to buy some, but I hadn't sold them any. Then this customer claims my wine has a sleeping drug in it! Isn't that ridiculous?"

The seven date peddlers said: "We thought bandits had come! Is that all? No harm done—we were just thinking we'd like some wine ourselves to quench our thirst. Since they're suspicious, sell us a bucket instead."

"Not for sale!" said the wine-seller.

"You fool," said the seven, "we didn't say anything against you. You're taking it to the village anyway—you'll get your money just the same. What harm is there in selling some to us? It's not as if you'd refuse tea or soup to travelers dying of thirst."

"Well, I could sell you a bucket," said the wine-seller grudgingly, "but after what they said... and besides, I have no cups or ladles."

"You take things too seriously!" laughed the seven. "What does a few words matter? We have our own coconut dippers here." Two of them fetched coconut dippers from their carts, while another brought out a big handful of dates. They gathered around the bucket, opened the lid, and took turns dipping out wine to drink with the dates. In no time they had finished the whole bucket.

"We never asked your price," said the seven.

"I set my prices once—five strings a bucket, ten for both."

"Five strings it is then," they said. "But throw in an extra dipperful as a bonus."

"No bonuses," said the wine-seller. "The price is fixed."

One of them paid, and another reached over to open the lid and dip out one more ladleful. He took a sip—but when the wine-seller tried to snatch it away, he ran off toward the pines with half a dipper of wine, the seller chasing after him.

Meanwhile another man came out from the grove carrying his own dipper, dipped it into the bucket, and drew out some wine. The wine-seller saw him, rushed back, snatched the dipper away, and poured the wine back into the bucket. He slammed the lid on and threw the dipper to the ground.

"You're no gentleman!" he fumed. "With a face like yours, you ought to know better than to make such a fuss!"

The guards had watched all this with growing envy. One of them appealed to the old steward: "Grandfather, please speak for us! Those date peddlers bought a bucket and drank it all. Could we buy this one too? We're parched—there's no water anywhere on this ridge. Please do us this kindness."

The old steward himself felt the thirst. He went to Yang Zhi and said: "Those date merchants have drunk one bucket already. Let the men buy the other to ward off the heat. There's truly no water to be found on this ridge."

Yang Zhi thought it over: "From a distance I saw those fellows drink from that bucket, and half a dipperful was poured back in before my eyes. It must be good wine. After beating these men all day, I suppose I can let them have a drink." So he said: "Since the steward has spoken, let them buy some—then we move on."

The guards gathered five strings of cash and went to buy the wine. But the wine-seller refused: "Not selling! Not selling! This wine has sleeping drug in it!"

"Brother," they pleaded with smiles, "don't be so harsh!"

"Not for sale! Stop pestering me!"

The date peddlers intervened: "You fool of a wine-seller! He spoke out of turn, but you're too sensitive. You've made us suffer your complaints as well. These men have done nothing wrong—just sell them some."

"Why should I let anyone suspect me for no reason?" said the seller.

The date peddlers pushed him aside and carried the bucket over to the guards themselves. The soldiers opened the lid but had nothing to drink with, so they politely asked the peddlers if they could borrow their coconut dippers.

"Take these dates too," said the peddlers, "to go with your wine."

"That's too kind," said the soldiers.

"No need for thanks—we're all travelers here. What are a few dates between us?"

The guards thanked them and dipped out two ladles first: one for the old steward and one for Captain Yang. Yang Zhi refused to drink. The steward drank his, and each of the attendants took one. Then the soldiers fell upon the bucket and finished it in short order.

Seeing that no one had been harmed, Yang Zhi—though he had meant not to drink—found the heat unbearable and his thirst unquenchable. He took up the dipper and drank half a ladle, eating a few dates with it.

The wine-seller said: "That peddler stole a dipperful from this bucket, so you got less than your due. I'll knock off half a string in compensation." The soldiers gathered their money and paid him. He took the coins, hoisted his empty buckets onto his pole, and went down the ridge singing his song as before.

The seven date peddlers stood by the edge of the pines, pointing at the fifteen men: "Fall! Fall!"

And indeed, all fifteen felt their heads spin and their legs give way. They stared at one another in confusion, then collapsed in a heap.

The seven peddlers went into the grove and wheeled out their seven carts. They dumped the dates on the ground and loaded the eleven bundles of gold and jewels onto the carts, covering them over. "Sorry for the trouble!" they called out, and pushed their carts down off Yellow Mud Ridge.

They squeezed the people's blood to celebrate a birthday, Caring nothing for the common folk's distress. Now believe it: robbery is always invited— A guilty conscience has its reasons.

Yang Zhi could only groan in despair. His body was limp; he could not rise. All fifteen men watched helplessly as the seven loaded up the treasure and made off, powerless to move or even speak.

---

Do you ask who those seven were? None other than Chao Gai, Wu Yong, Gongsun Sheng, Liu Tang, and the three Ruan brothers! And the wine-seller was Bai Sheng, the Daytime Rat.

How had the drug been administered? When the buckets first came up the ridge, both contained pure wine. The seven drank one bucket openly. Then Liu Tang lifted the lid and dipped out half a dipper to drink, deliberately letting the soldiers see—to set their minds at ease. After that, Wu Yong slipped into the pines, took out the drug, and shook it into his coconut dipper. Pretending to come for a bonus drink, he dipped into the bucket; as he did so, the drug dissolved in the wine. He made as if to take half a dipperful, but Bai Sheng snatched it away and poured it back into the bucket, then sealed the lid. That was the whole stratagem—devised entirely by Wu Yong. This is what is called taking the Birthday Gifts by cunning.

Because Yang Zhi had drunk only a little, he recovered quickly. He scrambled to his feet, though he could barely stand. Looking at the other fourteen, he saw them lying limp, drooling from the corners of their mouths, unable to move—as the saying goes: "However sly you are as a ghost, one drink of foot-washing water will lay you low."

Yang Zhi was beside himself with rage and despair: "If you've taken the Birthday Gifts, how can I ever face Liang Shiju again? This bond is void!" He tore up the written agreement. "Now I have no home to return to, no country to serve! Where can I go? Better to find death on this very ridge!"

He gathered his robes and ran toward the edge of Yellow Mud Ridge, ready to throw himself off.

Spring rain destroys the falling blossoms; Autumn frost withers the willow leaves.

What became of Yang Zhi as he sought death on Yellow Mud Ridge? Hear it in the next chapter.