The Life and Times of Master Han Fei

Chapter Eleven

"Why use an ox-knife to kill a fowl?"
-Confucius

Han opened his eyes blearily, his head throbbing with a pounding headache. He sat up, trying to get his bearings. "Where am I?" he asked to no one in particularly, his voice strained by fatigue.

"Do not panic," a deep voice boomed. "You are among friends."

"Who are you?" stuttered Han in surprise, fighting the pain in his neck in order to turn his head around to face the speaker.

"Someone from your past," replied the suddenly familiar voice.

"My past?" asked the prince, extremely unsettled. "I demand for you to tell me who you are, I am the Crown Prince of the Kingdom of-"

"-Han," finished the speaker. Han heard movements behind him, and soon he came face to face with the owner of the suspiciously familiar voice. A man with a thick beard stood in front of the prince, his short height and stout build almost identical to Han's.

"Congratulations, my little brother," said the bearded man with a genuinely delighted smile. "Why, when I left for my diplomatic mission, you were only a toddler!"

"Diplomatic mission?" queried Han.

"You do not remember me," the man said with a grimace. "Perhaps it is my fault. You should know, however, that our father sent me away. I did not make the decision to leave."

"You have not answered my question! Who are you? Where am I?"

The stranger laughed a hearty chuckle, his beard shaking with his amusement. The man squatted down to be eye level with the prince, who was still sitting on the ground, unable to muster up the strength to stand.

"I am your brother, Han Fei. A lifetime ago, others knew me as Han Zhenghua. Now, I am only Zhenghua."

"I know about you!" said the prince with sudden realization. "You are a traitor!" continued Han Fei, his body energized by instinctive anger. "A disgrace to the Kingdom of Han and the Royal House of Han! Legalist scum!"

The prince spat the last part with such venom that spittle sprayed across Zhenghua's face, but the man was unbothered, his smile as bright as ever.

"I see Father has been busy promoting his propaganda against me," he chortled amusedly. Meeting Han Fei's disbelieving gaze, he explained himself. "I was exiled for my beliefs, it is true. But I have found myself a new home. It is not a community, nor a tribe. It is a family." Zhenghua snapped his fingers, and an uncountable number of figures emerged from the shadows on cue. "And you are most welcome to join us."

"What is this?" gasped Han, dumbfounded by the multitude of newly arrived men.

"I regret that you had to be acquainted with my family in this way. The Qiang are not an inherently aggressive people; we only fight when we are attacked.

"You will not be placed in any danger, my brother, unless, of course, you choose to resist. You will be escorted to our camp, where you will be treated. After you have recovered from your wounds and our doctors confirm that you have attained a clean bill of health, you will be asked to perform the same duties other Qiang men are obligated to do as well."

"What duties?" asked the prince suspiciously, a feeling of unease creeping up to him.

"Oh, nothing much. Mostly just hunting, gathering-anything a nomad society demands of you for survival," the prince's brother said with a slight smile. "Fear not, my brother, you will not have to do as much as the average Qiang man! I will require your attendance in some personal meetings with the tribe leader-who is me-every day. I imagine that one of these meetings will take up, on average, an entire afternoon. What say you to this proposal?"