The Messengers in the Sun

Chunyu Fen was an old soldier. Brave when he was young. Useless by the time he got old. He'd been a junior officer out on the frontier, disgraced himself in a fit of temper, and got sent home with half his pay. He lived in a small house on the south side of the city. The courtyard was overgrown with weeds. There was a big sour-date tree there, his father had planted it before he was even born.

His big weakness was wine. Drank in the morning. Drank in the evening. When he ran out of money, he borrowed from the neighbors and drank that off too. He wasn't a mean drunk. More of a sad one. He had plenty of friends, and they forgave him because he usually paid for the wine.

It was a spring afternoon. He'd drunk himself into a stupor under the date tree. That's when the messengers showed up. Two little men in dark green robes. No taller than the length of his hand. They bowed very low right in front of his eyes. He'd closed them, but now he opened them a crack.

"We're sent by the King of Huai'an," the older one said. His voice wasn't quite a voice, more like the hum of an insect in a quiet room. "Our master has heard of your reputation. Asks the honor of your company."

Chunyu Fen was half-asleep. Thought he was dreaming. Sat up, rubbed his eyes. The two little men were still there, bowing. He thought, with the logic of a dream, that if he was getting invited somewhere, he might as well go. Got to his feet. There was a horse waiting for him at the edge of the shadow. A horse the size of a big dog.

They rode. The walls of his own courtyard seemed to open up as they went through them, into a road he'd never seen before. Running between banks taller than a man. The sun had been in the west when he lay down. Now it was straight overhead. The two small messengers rode one on each side of him. Didn't say a word.

After a while they came to a big gate in a red earth wall. Over the gate was a board. On it was written, in characters he could read and couldn't read at the same time, the name: Kingdom of Huai'an. Messengers in green ran to announce him. The gate opened.

Inside, the city was bigger than any he'd ever seen. Wide streets. The people walking them were small, like the messengers, but they went about their business with such seriousness that they seemed bigger than life to him. He was led through courtyard after courtyard, along corridors paved with smooth pale stone, until he came to a hall. A king sat there on a black wood throne.

The king was middle-aged, dressed in white silk with a gold crown. He stood up when Chunyu Fen came in, greeted him like a brother. "We sent for you," he said, "because our daughter, Princess Jinhua, has reached the age where she must be married. We have no son of our own to give her to. We've heard good things about you. Will you be our son-in-law?"

Chunyu Fen had been a drunk, a disgraced officer, a man no one had asked anything of for years. He bowed until his forehead touched the pale stone. Said yes. He still didn't understand that the afternoon wine had carried him, in one step, right into the middle of his own dream.