[Three Kingdoms 365 · Day 166] The Page Beside the Pillow — Zhou Yu lets Jiang Gan carry a forged letter to Cao Cao, framing Cai and Zhang

The night at the pavilion deepened. After several cups had gone round, Zhou Yu (周瑜), as if drunk, threw his arm around Jiang Gan's (蔣幹) shoulder and stepped, one pace at a time, toward the bed prepared in the next room of the pavilion. That room was a small chamber reached through the west door of the pavilion. A desk, a bed, and a chair were set within.

Zhou Yu sank, as if falling, into the chair beside the bed. His eyes closed slowly. His right hand settled quietly upon one corner of the desk. Jiang Gan looked upon this sight beside him. A layer of wine had plainly settled upon Zhou Yu's face.

"Gongjin (公瑾). Are you falling asleep?"

Zhou Yu did not answer. The depth of his sleeping breath deepened. Jiang Gan nodded. Tonight's cup of old friendship had laid Zhou Yu down, sufficiently.

Jiang Gan stepped toward the bed as well. By the head of the bed rested his own baggage. Before he untied its cord, his eyes settled upon a place on the desk beside the bed.

Upon the desk lay a brush, an inkstone, and a single sheet of paper. The paper was folded, and one side of the fold lifted at an angle. Beside it rested a roster (名簿). One side of the roster lay slightly open. Within that opening, a point of red ink caught Jiang Gan's eye.

Jiang Gan first lifted the folded paper. He opened the fold quietly. Upon the paper, a letter was written.

The first line of the letter began with the names of Cao Cao's (曹操) naval commanders Cai Mao (蔡瑁) and Zhang Yun (張允). It was a letter in the form of one sent from the two generals to Commander Zhou of Jiangdong (江東).

"To Commander Zhou. The condition of the northern force (Cao Cao's camp) is greatly tilted. The Chancellor's suspicion has not yet reached us, but within a few days we can make an opportunity from the encampment of the naval force for you. When the opportunity is prepared, send the Commander's move into the north. Our two names shall, inside that move, be laid upon the head of the northern force, at once."

At the end of the letter stood the signatures of Cai Mao and Zhang Yun. Both signatures were in red ink.

Jiang Gan's hands trembled. This was evidence that two commanders of Cao Cao's navy were secretly in contact with Commander Zhou of Jiangdong. If this letter were to reach Cao Cao's hand, the heads of those two generals would be laid, within the next day, before the northern force.

Jiang Gan then moved his gaze to the roster. On the opened side of the roster, the two names Cai Mao and Zhang Yun were specially marked in red ink. Beside the marks the small characters "in contact with Jiangdong" were written. The letter and the roster were two faces of the same piece of evidence.

In the next room, the depth of Zhou Yu's sleeping breath held steady. Jiang Gan looked once more upon his face. It was the face of an old friend asleep in drunkenness. Within the hollow of Jiang Gan's chest, two thoughts collided. The first was duty — the weight of carrying this letter back to Chancellor Cao Cao. The second was friendship — the shame of secretly carrying a letter out of an old friend's sleeping room.

After the collision, the weight of duty stepped a little further forward. Jiang Gan folded the letter and placed it inside the fold of his own breast. The roster he set back in its place.

Jiang Gan lay down upon the bed. His eyes closed, but his sleep was not long. After lying lightly for a little over an hour, he rose again. It was the deepest dark hour before dawn. He quietly left the room.

He stepped out through the west door of the pavilion. A guard bowed his head to him. Jiang Gan mounted the horse he had prepared. Then he turned the horse's head to the north. The road back to Cao Cao's camp opened before him.

After Jiang Gan had vanished to the north, Zhou Yu, who had been sitting in the chair beside the bed in the next room, opened his eyes quietly. In them, not a trace of wine remained. Zhou Yu rose slowly from his seat. He covered the opened side of the roster upon the desk. Then he smiled, very briefly.

"Ziyi (子翼) has received the page beside the pillow well. The price of that page will now be laid down, at once, in the form of two names to the north."

Zhou Yu's smile this time was not shallow. The answer to tonight's invitation with a riddle was already, inside Jiang Gan's breast, running toward the north.

The eighth night of Book 6 was closing quietly upon one chair. The sound of Jiang Gan's hoofbeats grew faint inside the darkness of the northern road. A page beside the pillow, held in the breast of one old friend, was returning toward Cao Cao's camp. Upon that road of return, the price of two names had already been laid, quietly, in a single stroke.

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