that morning consisted of braised pig’s feet, a roast duck, a bowl of stewed lamb, a plate of braised mandarin fish, hardboiled eggs, and a basket of fluffy white steamed buns. Yuan enjoyed a healthy appetite and a love of food. He ate with rapt attention, as if he were alone. One of the attendants was responsible for peeling the eggs, the other for deboning the fish. He ate four eggs, gnawed on the feet of two pigs, finished off all the crispy skin of the duck, ate a dozen slices of lamb and half a fish, plus two steamed buns, washing it all down with three cups of wine. His meal finished, he rinsed his mouth with tea and wiped his hands on a napkin. Then he leaned back in his chair, belched, and shut his eyes while picking his teeth, as if he were alone in the room.
Knowing that all great men have their peculiarities, including the unique ways in which they observe and appraise talent, Qian Xiongfei assumed that the rude demonstration was how this one chose to evaluate his visitor. By then he had been standing at attention for more than an hour, but his legs remained steady, his eyes and ears clear and unaffected by the wait. By maintaining his military bearing, he had demonstrated that he was a model of military deportment and was exceptionally fit.
Excellency Yuan sat with his eyes closed, with one attractive attendant massaging his legs, the other rubbing his back. As loud snores rose from his throat, the attendants stole a glance at Qian Xiongfei and rewarded him with friendly smiles. Finally the snores stopped and His Excellency opened his eyes, fixing Qian with a penetrating stare that revealed no sign of having just awakened from a nap.
“Kang Youwei says you have acquired considerable learning and that your military skills are second to none,” he said abruptly. “Is that true?”
“Excellency Kang’s praise embarrasses and unnerves me.”
“I do not care if you have acquired real learning or worthless pedantry. I want to know what you studied in Japan.”
“The infantry drill manual, marksmanship, field logistics, tactics, armaments, fortifications, topography . . .”
“Can you shoot?” Yuan Shikai cut him off as he sat up in his chair.
“I am an expert in all infantry weapons, especially small arms, and with both hands. I may not be able to hit a tree at a hundred paces, but at fifty I never miss my target.”
“Anyone who boasts to me is in for a rude awakening,” Yuan Shikai said in a chilling voice. “I will not tolerate a man who overstates his abilities!”
“I will be happy to give Your Excellency a demonstration.”
“Excellent!” Yuan said with a hearty clap of his hands. “We have an adage in my hometown: ‘You can tell a mule from a horse by taking it out for a ride.’ Enter!” A young guard ran in to do Yuan’s bidding. “Prepare pistols, ammunition, and some targets.”
A rattan chair and a tea table were set up under a parasol on the firing range. Yuan removed a pair of pistols with gold-inlaid handles from an exquisite satin-covered box.
“These were given to me by a German friend,” Yuan said. “They have never been fired.”
“Please take the first shot, Your Excellency.”
The guard loaded his pistols and handed them to Yuan, who said with a smile:
“I’ve heard people say that for a true soldier, his weapon is his woman, and he will not permit another man to touch it. Do you believe that?”
“As Your Excellency says, many soldiers treat their weapons as if they were their women.” But then, with no apprehension, he added, “But I am of the opinion that anyone who treats his weapon as his woman scorns and considers his weapon to be a slave. I believe that a true soldier ought to treat his weapon as his mother.”
“Treating one’s weapon as his woman is absurd enough; treating it as one’s mother is preposterous,” Yuan said in a voice dripping with mockery. “You say that a soldier who treats his weapon as his woman scorns his weapon. Don’t you think that treating it as your mother is scornful of her? You can change weapons any time you want. How about your mother? A weapon is used to kill. How about your mother? Or better put, can your mother aid you in killing someone?” Under this withering interrogation, cracks formed in the foundation of his composure.
“Once you young officers receive a bit of Japanese or Western education,