Arc 1: Groping for Fish
Groping for Fish - Pray the Lotus Root to Number Its Silk Strings
Yuan Haowen (1190-1257) - Jin Dynasty
摸鱼儿 问莲根有丝多少
[金]元好问
问莲根,有丝多少,莲心知为谁苦?
双花脉脉娇相向,只是旧家儿女.
天已许,甚不教,白头生死鸳鸯浦?
夕阳无语,算谢客烟中,湘妃江上,未是断肠处.
香奁梦,好在灵芝瑞露,人间俯仰今古.
海枯石烂情缘在,幽恨不埋黄土.
相思树,流年度,无端又被西风误.
兰舟少住.怕载酒重来,红衣半落,狼藉卧风雨.
Pray the lotus root to number its silk strings;[1]
Does its heart know for whom it is bitter?
Lovingly between two blossoms do gaze
A pair of common man and maiden.
Heaven has spoken. But why forbid the Lovebirds[2]
To live until death do them part?
Wordlessly does the setting sun sink. In the mist of Traveler Xie, above the river of concubines Xiang,[3] neither bear the tragedy.
Dreams of Xianlian, pure like ganoderma and ruilu.[4]
The mortal realm reflects antiquity.[5]
The eternal bond of love is present,
Resentment is not buried beneath the yellow earth.
The tree of yearning, as years flow past,
Will once again be harmed by the unprovoked westerly winds.
The fine boat goes infrequent, afraid to carry wine and all repeat. The red robe half-fallen, laid to waste beneath the storm.
This is a poem written for a pair of lovers who married for love, against the custom of the time to marry for mutual gain, and drowned themselves in a lotus pond. That year, all the lotuses in the pond bloomed with two blossoms per stem. The poet laments for the lovers and for the rigid tradition that led to their demise. The verse is emotional, and full of pity and fury.
Chapter 1
As the rising sun rolled in from the eastern horizon of the capital, it melted the first snow of the season and left a sheen of frost covering the roof tiles' edges that refracted the golden rays of dawn. In the markets, bustling crowds traversed hither and thither; the horse-drawn carriages went to and fro. The entire city came alive to the forty-nine strikes of the morning bell. Truly, this was the very picture of a peaceful and prosperous world—a beautiful, magnificent land.
It was the first time in three months that You Miao managed to get up in the morning. For once, he was prepared to start fresh and go to school properly. He mounted the horse carriage after breakfast, looking irritated as he leisurely rocked along with the coach that headed for the Imperial College. However, as he passed Zhuque Bridge, he suddenly lost interest in the endeavor.
"Stop, stop," he ordered the driver. "I don't want to go to school today."
And so off he went instead to find his party crowd.
You Miao sat with one leg crossed over the other as the carriage rushed to Changlong West Street. When he arrived at his destination—the chancellor's residence—he noticed that the main entrance was shut, and the side door was empty of anyone standing guard. It wouldn't be ideal if he were to knock brashly and run into the chancellor going out, so instead he made the carriage circle around to the back entrance in search of Li Yan.
Only Li Yan's closest friends could enter through the back door of his house. There weren't many people in the backyard, but the servants of the chancellor's residence all recognized You Miao. They nodded and bowed as they welcomed him in. When You Miao entered, he went straight for the east wing. Just as he passed the stables, there was a sudden wretched yell. A ragged monster pushed out of the firewood shed and fell at his feet.
He had been merely walking along, so this abrupt scare gave him a mighty start and he fell to the ground as well. His boy servants were also startled. They rolled up their sleeves and began to yell—
"What the heck are you doing?!"
"Careful of my young master! I'll skin you alive if you frighten him!"
"Insolence! Are you trying to kill us?!"
The bodyguards of the residence were startled too, and they rushed over with their whips held high.
You Miao steadied himself. He seemed to have seen a ball of rumpled, tattered clothes, and had thought at first that it was some creature his friend kept. Only when the bodyguards surrounded and began to thrash the dirty figure, lashing him with whips and beat him with rods, did he see that it was a person—and a man at that. When the horsewhip swung down with a resounding crack, the man's skin split instantly, spilling blood all over.
The man was filthy; his hair was loose and messy like a madman's. His hands were tied and he hollered as he was beaten in the corner. Inadvertently, his and You Miao's eyes met. Although the man's eyes were incredibly bright and clear, they were colored with a thirst for blood, much like a wild beast's.
It was the first time You Miao witnessed a situation like this—over a dozen bodyguards whacking a half-dead man so hard that their punishing rods snapped.
"Stop, stop, what's going on?" You Miao hastily exclaimed.
"The young master says to stop!" barked a boy servant.
The bodyguards stopped the beating. Now at death's door, the man was propped up by ten sticks and thrown back into the firewood shed. There was a muffled thud inside as his body hit the ground. The second butler of the east wing hurried over and fastened a new lock over the firewood shed's door.
"Bastard!" he cursed. "Thank goodness You-shaoye wasn't touched!"
You Miao didn't know what crime that man had committed, and it wasn't his place to ask, so he started toward the east wing once more. Around this time, Li Yan had just woken up. Waited on by a row of maids at his side, he was in his chambers looking bored as he ate breakfast. At the sight of You Miao's arrival, he raised his chopsticks and motioned for him to join. And so, You Miao sat and took a sip of tea. The two ate as they discussed where to go and have fun today, and with whom to hang out.
So who was this Li Yan? Why, he was a good friend You Miao had made at the Imperial College; the little young master of the chancellor's household.
The current reigning emperor was lazy and a pig; his heart drunk on poetry and songs, on the flowers and the birds and the bees. Following his example, each government official in court was lazier than the next. The chancellor didn't attend morning court, and as the fish stinks from the head, the chancellor's son didn't study either. The young master whiled away his days raising hawks and hosting dog fights, hailing friends from all over.
Two years ago when You Miao entered the Imperial College, the two had been boys and juvenile yet. Once they were acquainted, they began to goof off together. Li Yan spent You Miao's money, and in turn, You Miao used Li Yan's connections to befriend a group of young wastrel elites of the imperial capital. When they had nothing to do, they'd roam the streets and dominate the marketplaces, bullying men and women alike.
As for the matter of You Miao himself, he was also no simple character. His ancestors had aggrandized the family fortune through the privatized sale of salt, and after generations of wealth accumulation, the family had become the region's richest. Twenty-six years ago, his father split off from the house with his share of family assets to start on his own. He grew tea in Jiangbei, the region north of the Yangtze River, and harvested an abundance of wealth; today, his tea fields stretched thousands of acres. He was veritably not a simple man.
Nonetheless, of the four occupation streams—scholarship, agriculture, skilled craft, and commerce[6]—commerce ranked lowest. Thus, You Miao's father You Dechuan had sprouted the idea to "donate" to secure a title as a government official[7] for his only son. It was easy to buy a title in this day and age as long as one had the money, but not as easy for those who bought a position to shut gossipers' mouths. And so, You Miao's dad thought to send his son to the capital with some money in order to study and prepare for the imperial exams. He would then "donate" to secure a placement for his son among the third ranks of the palace exam.[8] In doing so, they would become a proper scholar family.
When You Miao first departed for the capital, he was only twelve. As he lived a luxurious life, he brought with him ten massive wagons of everything—from food to necessities, a band of maids and a team of boy servants. He'd raised quite the fanfare when he came to the imperial capital to study.
You Miao's father, You Dechuan, had arranged everything for him—once he reached the capital, he stayed with his paternal uncle. After befriending that group of young wastrel elites at school, he'd blown the three thousand silver his dad had given him within the first year. When the money was gone, You Miao reached out his hand to ask for more from home and was bloodily rebuked by his father in a letter…before another five hundred silver was given to placate him. However, he was also told that if he spent it all by the end of the year, he could go homeless for all Dad cared.
"Hey, boy," said Li Yan, the chancellor's young master, who looked him up and down.
"What?"
You Miao only moved his chopsticks around a bit and stopped eating.
"I heard the Third Prince wants to summon you to the palace," Li Yan said languidly as he chewed his congee. "To have you become his study companion?"
You Miao hadn't known about this at all, but understood immediately after having heard. "Third Prince" referred to the youngest son of the current emperor, Emperor Zhao Mao. Li Yan's chancellor father and four out of the six ministries[9] were in the Crown Prince's faction. While the Third Prince had favor when he was younger, he was nevertheless not born from the principal wife, the empress—never mind that he was not the eldest son, so he held neither power nor influence within the palace.
You Miao didn't rush to answer. "Really?" He laughed. "It's probably just a joke."
"Who knows? Maybe the imperial court will dispatch someone to pass the order in a few days," Li Yan said. "I heard the Third Prince is the active sort, and likes to have fun. Us bros went out to stroll the lantern markets during this year's Shangyuan Festival,[10] d'you remember?"
You Miao nodded hesitantly. He vaguely recalled the lantern-lit Yuanxiao streets, but it had been a sea of people packed elbow-to-elbow. Who could tell who was who in that chaos?
Li Yan added, "You caught his eye, apparently. After but a single glance from afar at the lantern markets, he told the Grand Tutor to summon you to the palace."
You Miao had fine, delicate features with shapely eyebrows and shining eyes. He was fair-tempered and extravagantly dressed, not to mention his family was rich. The young wastrel elites all loved to hang out with him, pulling him in for a smooch every so often, so it wasn't anything extraordinary that the Third Prince would be interested in him.
"Oh," You Miao said. "Then what kind of character is this Third Prince?"
"What do you care?" Li Yan coolly replied, appearing reluctant now. "Let me ask you, though—will you go or not?"
You Miao crossed his legs and let out a little laugh, heh-heh. Normally, anyone would be happy to catch the Third Prince's eye so out of the blue and become his study companion at the palace. You Miao knew his place, though—he often heard Li Yan's group gossip about how the Third Prince would be granted at most a formal Prince[11] title in the future. The one who'd actually ascend the throne was undoubtedly the Crown Prince.
If he joined the Third Prince's camp now, there'd be no cozying up to the Crown Prince later. The reason his father had sent him to the capital to study was so he could buy a government official position, or land a title at the imperial court—something that'd ruin his future like that was definitely a no-no. He would have to let the Third Prince down.
"It's your call," You Miao said with a smile. "Don't I always listen to you?"
Li Yan lightened up a bit at this. "We bros will have to split if you follow him, so you better think it through. Does that Third Prince you've never met before treat you better than I do?"
You Miao laughed and immediately answered, "Of course you treat me better. Is there even a question when it comes to how close of bros we are?"
After breakfast, a few more of the young masters came, all of them looking barely awake. Li Yan brought out a landscape painting he'd purchased with forty taels of silver and unrolled it to show You Miao, who could tell it was a forgery with a single glance at the signature stamp.
"It's a fake," he said with a scoff.
"And you can tell what's authentic and what's fake just like that, can you?" Li Yan challenged.
"An authentic one is hanging in my dad's room as we speak. Look here, the stamp…"
The young masters snickered. "It's fine as long as you like it," said the son of the Minister of Revenue, who came forward to smooth things over. But Li Yan and You Miao had started arguing again. Li Yan tossed the painting away and glared at You Miao hatefully, while the latter simply drank tea with his legs crossed, remaining bubbly without a care in the world.
A long while after, it was Ping-Er, the son of the Minister of Revenue, who had spoken up again. "What are we gonna do today?"
He was the second oldest at home, so the young wastrels always called him "Ping-Er.[12]" The young wastrels knew to flatter the superior and bully the lesser; to fawn upon the rich and powerful. Of course, the boot of the chancellor's son must be licked, but the salt merchant's principal son was implicitly higher in rank—although he had no titles to speak of in the capital, he won in terms of money.
The group was merely using You Miao as a wallet, and You Miao himself was well aware of this fact. He often told himself that his dad had sent him here for no other reason than to rank in the exams and mingle with the young wastrel elites. Things got done easier with friends in the imperial court, and it'd also be easier if he allowed his money to do the talk when it came to it in the future.
You Miao looked at the group with a wide grin. "Why don't we hit up Yangfeng Pavilion for some tunes?"
The group agreed enthusiastically. While Li Yan had had his face scrunched up and been ready to fight You Miao just a moment ago, it didn't take long before You Miao laughed it off and smoothed things over with his bubbly teasing. Young men don't hold grudges to begin with, so soon after noon had passed, they huddled together again to hang out.
They filled and satisfied their stomachs with food and booze all the way until sundown, and it was only on the way home that You Miao remembered the incident in the morning. Out of curiosity, he asked Li Yan about it.
"Oh, that was a Quanrong slave," Li Yan said. "I saw him at the Royal Academy[13] and thought it'd be fun, so I bought him."
The Royal Academy? Quanrong slave? Before You Miao could ask more about it, Li Yan had already turned and swaggered home.
Many days later, it was Li Yan's birthday party. That evening, You Miao went over for drinks. The front entrance was jam-packed with guests, so You Miao once again openly swaggered as he'd always done through the back entrance of the chancellor's residence. As he crossed the backyard, he saw several bodyguards beating a gunny sack with rods. Blood was seeping from the bag, dyeing the snowy grounds red. Agonized, angry growls came from inside it.
The weather was cold. You Miao slowed to a stop and watched with his hands tucked in his sleeves. His boy servants only wanted to go inside for a sip of hot liquor, however, so they incessantly urged their young master, "Go in, please; it's cold outside."
Ignoring his servants, You Miao asked, curious, "What are you guys doing?"
A bodyguard replied with a smile, "Orders from the young master. We have to beat this guy dead today."
The sack fell silent.
"What did he do to warrant that?" asked You Miao.
"He offended the young master."
Chancellor Li held overbearing power over the entire imperial court; it was not uncommon for father or son to get rid of people. No one could do anything to stop them, never mind a slave. You Miao was simply a little curious—Li Yan didn't seem this petty, and he'd paid for that Quanrong slave. If Li Yan had gotten sick of playing with him, he could very well give him away or resell him. Why go to the trouble of beating him to death?
You Miao entered the main hall. The house was boisterous and loud, crammed with guests who had come for Li Yan's birthday banquet. There was even a stage set up for a play. Quite a number of people recognized You Miao, and they bantered back and forth with him as he walked in.
As soon as he dropped off his gift, You Miao asked Li Yan, "Why are you having that guy outside beaten to death?"
Li Yan was in the middle of drinking, and replied with disinterest, "Because I feel like it."
You Miao's mind was still preoccupied by the sack, for some reason. He said offhandedly, "Killing someone on your birthday; how unlucky."
"I told them to take it easy with the beating," Li Yan said. "Kill him tomorrow, then bury him somewhere outside the city."
"Look at you. Why do you have to make it such a troublesome thing? Why not just let him go if you can't stand him?" You Miao admonished.
Li Yan's face was souring, and he rebuffed, "Because I feel like it!"
"Okay, okay, okay." You Miao surrendered. He hadn't even intended on saying anything in the first place.
Li Yan shot him another glare. "What did he scream at you?"
"Nothing?" You Miao answered.
Ping-Er huddled over. "You Miao, you want a slave? Next time us bros will take you to the Royal Academy to buy one."
"Him?" Li Yan sounded derisive. "It'll be good if he doesn't get sold into the Royal Academy."
"What exactly does that man do for you?" You Miao asked.
Li Yan beckoned You Miao over with his index finger, then pressed his next words against his ear.
"He's a bed warmer. A man."
You Miao instantly flushed. Perhaps it was the alcohol, or perhaps it was the heat inside the hall, but the blush spread from his face all the way to the tips of his ears. The young masters all laughed at how innocent he was.
You Miao sized Li Yan up wryly. "Didn't think you were into that," he commented.
"What's wrong with it?" Li Yan retorted. "I'm the birthday boy today. You wanna warm my bed?"
Uproarious laughter instantly filled the hall. There was a nasty individual among the crowd, a jealous person who generally hated the rich, and resented You Miao and his excellent relationship with Li Yan. He promptly spoke up to inflame the situation.
"Who knows who's the one warming whose bed!"
The crowd laughed boisterously again at the comment. Li Yan turned red in the face, but You Miao was quite pleased and chuckled in delight. After three rounds of drinks, Li Yan's words came back to You Miao as he listened to the play and watched the one warrior actor and the one boy actor turn in circles yee-ing and yaa-ing.
He put his arm around Li Yan and leaned on him. With his eyes still trained on the play, You Miao asked curiously next to Li Yan's ear, "I know how it works with women, but how do men warm another man's bed?"
Li Yan was annoyed now. "Are you done? Do you really want to warm my bed?" he questioned.
"Lend him to me. I wanna try playing with something new, too," You Miao said.
"I've ruined that Quanrong slave's face. I'll take you to buy a more energetic one next time we're out," Li Yan said.
"Why is he called a Quanrong slave?"
"Because he's a Quanrong. Captured from the north."
"Why is his face ruined?"
"'Cause I beat him."
"Why'd you beat him?"
Li Yan glared at him, but You Miao only beamed. He did this every time, smiling so cheekily and shamelessly that no one could take him seriously.
"He won't talk," Li Yan finally said. "I told him to talk, but he wouldn't, so I stuffed my shoe in his mouth and made him crawl in the mud with his ass up. He dared fight back, so I smashed him with a vase a bunch of times and locked him up."
You Miao understood now—Li Yan must've gotten hit, and that Quanrong slave's retaliating blows were probably not meek. The play went on for a while, but the only thing on You Miao's mind was how Li Yan would've played with that Quanrong slave. Could men have fun like that, too? The idea of asking for the slave sprouted within him. You Miao wanted to have him for his own. He wanted to bring that guy back home so he could ask how he and Li Yan cocked around.
Up on the stage, the actors flowed in and out of the scene, their voices high in song. It took a full hour before You Miao broached the subject again.
"Hey, Li Yan. Lend your bro that Quanrong slave toy, yeah?"
"He's pretty much dead," said Li Yan. "I'll take you to buy a new one in a few days."
"And what if he's not dead yet?" You Miao argued. "Didn't you just say earlier that you weren't gonna kill and bury him 'til tomorrow morning?"
"Even if he's not dead, it's a no."
"What's the point of buying a new one? What a waste," You Miao said. "I just wanna play around. I'll give him back after I'm done, and you can beat him up or bury him or whatever you like."
"No."
"C'mon, just for a few days," You Miao pleaded.
Li Yan was really annoyed now. "Are you freaking done?!"
The same jealous individual from earlier taunted again, "You-shaoye comes from a family of great wealth and business. You can easily buy hundreds of slaves, if not thousands, from the Royal Academy to fill your house. Why bother with tattered goods?"
You Miao's request was only a casual one, but Li Yan became unwilling again after hearing the taunt.
"Him? He can't afford it!"
"What do you mean, 'I can't afford it'?" demanded You Miao. "One night at Tingyu Pavilion only costs so much money—"
"It's two hundred silver!" exclaimed Li Yan, cutting You Miao off. "Think you can afford it? If you can manage to whip out two hundred silver, I'll give him to you."
When the boys saw You Miao and Li Yan were bullshitting as usual, they all hooted, kicking up a ruckus.
"What, it's just two hundred silver," You Miao said. "Think I can't pay it?"
Li Yan shot him a side-eyed look, thinking that he would've asked for a higher price had he known.
As for You Miao, while he might have spewed those words aloud, he thought to himself, Well, shoot, I really can't afford it. He only had three hundred silver left for the rest of the year, and it was even the amount he'd drawn in advance from next year. The talk was never meant to be anything serious, and he wasn't the one to bring up the subject of purchase either. But with that look Li Yan was giving him, You Miao suddenly felt indignant.
"You beat him half to death, so he's worth at most only one hundred silver," argued You Miao.
The crowd howled in laughter.
"Don't bargain if you can't afford him. Look at you, gotta backtrack so hard your dick's shriveled back into your balls." Li Yan mocked.
The provocation was too much. You Miao pulled out a wad of silver bills[14] from his robes and slapped it onto the table.
"Sold!"
This caught Li Yan off-guard. He was taken aback at first before he promptly flew into a rage.
"Did I say I was selling?!"
The crowd fell silent. You Miao really did have the money—all two hundred silver. In today's imperial capital, that money could buy an impressive mansion or over a hundred acres of good, fertile land. Even buying the freedom of the most renowned, headlining courtesan at Tingyu Pavilion would only cost a hundred and twenty silver. Two hundred silver for a male slave? It was unheard of!
Li Yan glared at You Miao like an angry bull.
At the sight of the situation souring, the band of wastrel elites quickly spoke up to smooth things over, for fear that the two were going to start fighting.
"Come now, there's no need to go this far. A male slave from the Royal Academy is a matter of five silver," said one.
"The birthday boy is the most important one today, he gets to call the shots," said another.
You Miao had thrown down that wad of silver bills out of impulse, and he knew that there was no way he could take it back now. It'd look bad, and it was too late. Thus, it didn't take long before he returned to his rascally, cheeky demeanor.
"What? Gonna miss him?" he teased with a wide grin.
"Take him home with you," Li Yan spat bitterly. "I'd love to see where you'll put him…that won't get you knocked dead by your uncle. Spent two hundred silver on him, too. Sucker."
You Miao couldn't be bothered to retort. Seeing as the birthday banquet was about to end unhappily, another bystander took this chance to try and schmooze Li Yan. That killed You Miao's desire to talk further, and the two sat in their seats, the air frozen between them.
You Miao left early without so much as a goodbye to Li Yan. As he exited the hall with his boy servants in tow, he saw that the gunny sack was sitting there in the snow with no signs of movement. The man might be dead.
He instantly began to panic—his two hundred silver couldn't just go to waste like this!
"He's not dead, is he?!" demanded You Miao. "If he's dead, you all have to pay me back my two hundred silver! Genuine, pure silver! I bought him from your young master, yanno!"
Who among the bodyguards could afford that price? They all quivered in fright at the thought.
"Open the sack. Let me take a look!" You Miao ordered.
One of the braver bodyguards approached. He quickly explained as he untied the rope, "Please understand, You-gongzi, we lowly ones can't be blamed for this. No one told us, so we didn't know…"
"Never mind, forget it," You Miao said. "Let's see if he's dead first. If he's dead, then I don't want him anymore. God. I'll just…freaking go find Li Yan to get my money back."
With a lantern held high, the bodyguard untied the sack and slowly pulled it off the man inside. The head was the first thing to be revealed. The man had been beaten so badly that he was bleeding from every orifice. Yet his body was muscled and toned, and his arms and legs were long. As the sack was fully peeled off, they could see that the blood on the man's lower body had already dried to a purplish-black, and that he was smeared with urine and feces—the earlier violence he'd suffered had caused him to lose control of his bladder and bowels.
"Is he dead?" You Miao asked as one of his boy servants bent down to check if the man was breathing.
Then it struck You Miao—Li Yan said he'd sell him the man, but he never said whether the man would be alive or dead. If You Miao tried to fight for a refund and Li Yan made fun of him for it, then the two hundred silver was as good as gone. You Miao would have to swallow the deal whether the man was alive or dead.
This was some tricky business… You Miao huffed a heated breath then knelt on one knee to press his ear to the man's chest in an attempt to listen for his heartbeat. The body was still a bit warm and not yet stiff.
The man was alive.
"Go get some help. Use the cushion seat cover in the horse carriage to wrap him, then take him home," You Miao ordered. "What's his name?"
One of the bodyguards quickly supplied an answer when he saw You Miao wasn't going to give them more trouble. "His name is Li Zhifeng. A Quanrong slave."
You Miao motioned for their departure, and the boy servants escorted him out.
You Miao's uncle was throwing a fit at home the day he brought back the Quanrong slave named Li Zhifeng. Not daring to raise a fanfare lest he alert people, You Miao ordered the boy servants to roughly pad the space behind the screen in his room with some blankets like a doghouse, then leave the man there. He warned them that they were not to say anything, then he retired to his room and pretended nothing had happened.
Snow fell heavily that night. As You Miao lay there on his bed, he remembered the stray dog he had once brought home. Halfway through the night, he couldn't help but sit up to check and see if the Quanrong slave had died.
Around midnight, heavy gasping like that of bellowing wind came from behind the screen. You Miao couldn't sleep, so he quietly got up. Dressed in a robe whiter than snow, he walked in bare feet across the cashmere rug carrying a small, rainbow-colored glass lamp. Without calling for the maid outside the door, he peered behind the screen.
The Quanrong slave's panting breaths were broken; he gasped and heaved with great difficulty, sounding very much like he was on the verge of death. You Miao thought back on his two hundred silver, and it made his heart clench. Peeling back the cotton blanket, he used the glow from the glass lamp to carefully check the man.
Earlier in the winter snow, this man had been freezing to the point that his body was turning purple; the blood, urine, sweat, and stomach acid from dry heaving were all mixed together, and much of it had frozen into ice. Now that he had been smothered under the blankets for half the night, the fluids had melted and emitted a sour, astringent stench. You Miao continued to look. The man's arms and legs were well-proportioned. His feet were big, his fingers were long, and judging by sight, he was more than six feet in height. His long legs looked as powerful as those of wild horses, and he was hung like a stallion. He was gorgeous.
When You Miao's gaze traveled to the man's face, the open eyes gave him a start, and it almost made him drop the lamp over his face.
The man stared unblinkingly at the glass lamp with lifeless eyes. "Why did you save me?" he asked, his voice low and raspy.
"You're…still alive?" You Miao asked tentatively.
When he received no reply, You Miao thought, How do I even answer a question like that? He couldn't possibly tell him it was because he wanted to hear how the Quanrong slave and Li Yan got on with that naughty business.
"It was on a whim," he said instead. "Are you…okay?"
The lamp in You Miao's hand swayed over the man's face. The man's gaze finally fell on You Miao. The colors of the glass lamp glowed and glimmered through the screen. The brilliant shades turned and swirled, illuminating both of their expressions.
"You cost me two hundred silver, you know," You Miao said. "You can't die. What's your name?"
The man stared at You Miao, his eyes unblinking. It was a long time before he answered, "Li Zhifeng."
With the name confirmed, You Miao then added, "I also offended Li Yan for your sake. So, you best be smart about things. I'll call a doctor for you tomorrow. Just rest for now."
Li Zhifeng didn't respond, so You Miao hung the glass lamp next to the screen and went back to his own bed. You Miao spent the entire night worrying over the death of his two hundred silver. Every so often, he'd get up to peer over the screen, keeping his ears keen. This went on until daybreak, when he snuck over for the last time. Seeing that Li Zhifeng's eyes were closed, You Miao reached out to check under his nose for his breath.
"I won't die," Li Zhifeng spoke up. "You can relax and go to sleep."
You Miao nodded. As he trekked back to bed, he heard Li Zhifeng add, "I will never forget that you saved my life."
You Miao grinned in response. "As long as you don't die, you'll be doing me a favor," he said.
This time, You Miao slept soundly. After an entire night of turmoil, he didn't wake until noon.
When the maids entered the room, their noses twitched. One of them asked, "Shaoye, what is that smell?"
"Get out, get out! It's none of your business," You Miao exclaimed quickly. As he shooed the maids out, something occurred to him, and he said, "Bring the incense burner in here."
The maids were baffled.
You Miao then asked, "Where's my uncle?"
A maid curtsied and replied, "The master has gone to visit the Minister of Revenue."
While You Miao was washing up, a boy servant came knocking. He reported, "Qiao-er is waiting outside the second gate and has Shaoye's study bag all ready."
As if You Miao had any mind for school right now. He quickly responded, "I'm not going today. You can all go and take a break."
Every day, the boy servants prepared a study companion for You Miao; the book boys had been hired from home.[15] Every day, everyone would put up appearances since no one was checking homework. Every day, everyone was happily relaxed and free.
After You Miao finished washing up, the incense burner was hauled into the room. It was stuffed full of fuming incense sticks. Breakfast was also delivered, but on top of what had already been served, You Miao ordered some congee and had the maids shred some fried partridge in it. Then he ordered everyone to leave the room while he snuck an extra empty bowl.
"I want to take a bath," You Miao said. "Go prepare the water, then call Shiqi-er in."
A moment later, the boy servant named Shiqi-er came in, hauling a large vat of water. Shiqi was a personal attendant sent from his own home who often waited on You Miao.
"Shaoye, you hid that dead dog from last night in your room?" he asked as soon as he entered, sounding surprised. He knew about You Miao's purchase of the useless man from the night before.
"What dead dog?" You Miao snapped. "He's two hundred silver. Get over here and give me a hand."
You Miao didn't dare allow his uncle to learn about this affair. He was scared that if his uncle set eyes on Li Zhifeng, he'd throw him out the door in an instant and give You Miao a beating. You Miao would need to tend to Li Zhifeng's wounds before he told his uncle that he was a slave servant that someone else had given him, and in order to heal his wounds, they would need to call a doctor. In order to call a doctor, they would need to clean him up first.
Shiqi stood there with his sleeves held up, peering behind the screen with You Miao.
"What are you looking at?" You Miao demanded. "Go hold him upright."
Shiqi's face twitched—the man really was too smelly. However, no matter how unwilling he was, he had no choice but to help You Miao pull the man upright. Li Zhifeng staggered from the action, unsteady on his feet.
"Can you walk on your own?" You Miao asked.
Li Zhifeng nodded even though his feet were weak, so You Miao and Shiqi held and brought him to the bathtub before they pushed him in headfirst. The resulting splash drenched the two from head to toe. Shiqi looked miserable.
"Go find him a set of clean clothes," ordered You Miao before he flipped Li Zhifeng over.
Having no energy at all, Li Zhifeng leaned against the side of the bathtub with his eyes closed. You Miao picked up a loofah stick and attempted a scrub-down. He swept Li Zhifeng's hair up to lay it behind his head, then stared at his face.
"Pretty handsome," You Miao commented. "You all right?"
Li Zhifeng seemed to use all of his strength to raise a hand from the water. With it trembling still, he rested it over You Miao's hand that was gripping the side of the tub.
"How come a man your size can't even win against some bodyguards?" You Miao grumbled.
"They fed me muscle paralysis powder,[16]" Li Zhifeng said.
His voice was very small and very weak. You Miao shuffled close to his lips, not having heard him properly.
"What?"
"Martial arts," Li Zhifeng replied, his voice forced out in a harsh huff.
"You know martial arts?" You Miao was amazed.
He wanted to ask more questions, but Li Zhifeng couldn't speak. Seeing how he was barely hanging on to dear life, You Miao could only leave him be for the time being.
Shiqi came in with the clothes. You Miao first rested the dripping Li Zhifeng on his own bed, then dressed him in the undershirt and underpants before wrapping him in a cloth robe. The two then rolled him in the soft mattress and moved him behind the screen. Shiqi rolled up the blankets from before and went out to toss them. You Miao heaved a sigh—everything was done at last.
Li Zhifeng's hair was still damp, but at least some color had returned to his gaunt, slightly darker-toned face. His cheekbones were very high, and over his brow bone was a scar that hadn't completely healed—most likely from Li Yan beating him with a vase during their altercation. The scar was at least two inches long, and dragged from his brow bone all the way to his ear. A perfectly good, handsome man like this…ruined by a scar.
His eyes were shut. His thick, blade-like eyebrows were beautiful, and his nose ridge was high. His fingers were long and slender. However, his face was as sallow as a corpse's.
You Miao called to him again, "Hey."
Li Zhifeng opened his eyes weakly; his eyes were laced with a little bit of blue. He moved his lips, but no words came out. You Miao lifted a piece of jade from around his neck, then leaned down to tie the pendant around Li Zhifeng's neck.
"This is the life-protection charm my mom gave me," You Miao said. "I'll lend it to you for now. Get up and come eat something."
You Miao placed the bowl of congee in a hot water basin to keep it warm, then fumbled out a small jade spoon. Once Shiqi came back, the two held Li Zhifeng to sit him upright. You Miao was fifteen this year, and Shiqi was only fourteen—for two half-adults to arrange a full-grown man like this was taxing, to say the least. It was with great difficulty that they managed to feed him the entire bowl of hot congee.
After the meal, You Miao sent Shiqi to call for a doctor. It would seem You Miao wouldn't be able to leave the house again today, so he figured he'd just sit around in his room and flip through his books or be idle.
Behind the screen, Li Zhifeng suddenly started coughing. You Miao hurried over to check on him. Blood had finally returned to Li Zhifeng's face after eating the congee. His skin wasn't as delicate as You Miao's, and was deeper in hue. He turned to the side to cough, and veins bulged on the back of his hand as he firmly covered his mouth.
You Miao rubbed his back, watching him with concern. When the doctor came, if he declared Li Zhifeng couldn't be healed, then…guess he should throw him out, You Miao thought. But with all that wind and snow blowing outside, he couldn't just ditch a full-grown man out on the block like that. He had to throw him farther away. That'd be a little sad. Two hundred silver… Had he known, he wouldn't have spent it. The very thought of it was giving You Miao heartburn. He quietly reminded himself that if he was to throw Li Zhifeng out, he had to be sure to take back his mom's jade pendant, lest it get tossed with the man.
"How old are you?" You Miao asked sympathetically.
"Eleventh year of Qing Shuo,[17]" answered Li Zhifeng.
You Miao nodded. The current year was the Thirty-Third Year of Qing Shuo, which meant Li Zhifeng was twenty-two.
You Miao went back to his desk and sat down, putting his hands around the hand warmer.[18] After a moment of thought, however, he shuffled back over to place the warmer in Li Zhifeng's hands before sitting next to the ground bedding behind the screen.
"When were you sold to the capital?" You Miao asked.
"Seven years ago," Li Zhifeng replied.
Sold to the Royal Academy at the age of fifteen. You Miao only had a vague idea of what kind of place it was. When aristocratic families were seized and their properties confiscated, oftentimes the women would be sold to the Royal Academy to become government prostitutes. There were quite a number of men in the institution as well. Something like a Quanrong slave, though… This was the first time You Miao had heard of it, so he had no idea what this guy's background was even like. Judging by his appearance, he certainly didn't look like a working boy.
"Shaoye," Shiqi's voice rang from outside.
You Miao immediately got to his feet and went out to usher in the old doctor who stood outside the door, holding his medicine bag and covered in snow. As the doctor worked on Li Zhifeng, You Miao watched on with worry…except Shiqi kept distracting him by tossing him looks. You Miao arched his eyebrow in response. What?
"The master is back," Shiqi whispered.
You Miao's mind turned. "Has he called for me?"
When Shiqi shook his head, You Miao said, "Then leave it for now."
The doctor didn't question Li Zhifeng's background, or why there was a man housed in Young Master You's bedroom. He only focused on the diagnosis with deeply furrowed brows.
Shiqi turned to Li Zhifeng and said, "My young master called for the best doctor of the entire capital for a waste-of-money like you. Ten whole silver, I tell you."
Wh…what?! It was as if You Miao was stricken by a bolt from the blue. Glaring at Shiqi, he hissed through gritted teeth by his ear, "You called for such an expensive doctor?!"
"Shaoye, use your head," Shiqi reasoned. "The waste-of-money is worth two hundred silver. If he could be healed with ten silver, wouldn't it be worth it?"
You Miao was nearly out of money, but despite burning with anger, he had to acquiesce. "Fine, fine."
"The master has returned—!"
"Laoye!"
As the storm outside intensified, the blowing snow was like knives hailing from above. A horse-drawn carriage parked outside the main entrance of the You residence, then Master You was carried via sedan to the second yard of the four-yard siheyuan. The sedan rocked as it came to a stop outside the main hall. You Deyou shivered when he peeled back the curtain. He hollered a few times, and the sedan carriers heeded and moved forward a bit more, crossing through the doors and into the hall. Only then did You Deyou wobble down from the sedan.
You Deyou was a large, middle-aged man. After he settled in the imperial capital, he focused his businesses on the six main highways of the Jiangnan region. With his finger on the pulse of the imperial court, he often ran communications for the You family. His wealth allowed him to spend his days gorging himself on gourmet food, which was how he had eaten himself to his current pudgy state. Because of his size, he was exhausted before he had even entered the main hall.
His little concubine hurried over to serve him; she handed him a hot towel and started the brazier. Only then did he feel better.
"Where's You Miao?" he asked as he wiped his hands.
Despite how much of a handful his nephew was, You Deyou still had to look after him. The first reason was that You Miao was the eldest principal son of You Dechuan's branch of the family, which at the end of the day, made his status extraordinary. The second reason was the You family would ultimately need someone to look after it—and it was obvious by You Dechuan's intent that he'd planned on having his son become a government official. You Miao couldn't be neglected or ignored, so You Deyou usually closed one eye when it came to him screwing around.
"The young master nephew is at home," replied the butler. "Does laoye want to summon him?"
You Deyou went bug-eyed when he heard this, and mumbled to himself, "Did the sun rise from the west? That boy is at home and behaving in the middle of the day?"
The little concubine explained with a smile as she massaged You Deyou's shoulders, "Might be because it's snowing so heavily today that he doesn't have anywhere to go?"
"Whatever, whatever, call him over," You Deyou said. "Have the kitchen whip up something and get lunch over and done with first."
Meanwhile, You Miao was still staring at the doctor, feeling rather anxious. The doctor's eyes were squinted, and he hadn't spoken a single word for an entire incense time—it was like he had entered deep meditation. Just then, the butler's voice rang from the outside.
"Shaoye, the master is requesting you. He wishes to speak with you and have lunch."
You Miao had no choice but to go. Still worried as he was leaving, he took out money—ten silver for the service and some broken silver for tips—and gave it to Shiqi. He then whispered in Shiqi's ear, instructing him to watch over things, before he hurried off to see You Deyou.
You Deyou didn't say much, however, when You Miao arrived. He only asked how You Miao's studies were going, who he was typically hanging out with, and other such things. You Miao couldn't eat much—he had that extra person in his room on his mind, and had only just had breakfast. Not long after lunch, he tried to rush back to his room, saying he was going to go read.
You Deyou was even more astonished now. Thinking his nephew had undergone a personality change, he called out, "Stop right there!"
"What?" You Miao responded tersely.
"I wanted to ask you… Last month, the palace sent someone over with word…" he trailed off.
"The Third Prince wants me to be his study companion?" You Miao said quickly, having recalled the matter.
You Deyou scoffed and asked, "Are you going to go?" When You Miao hesitated, he then started to lecture. "I'm not telling you what to do, but why are you so stupid? I know the Third Prince isn't a bad person. But at the end of the day, he's still not the crown prince…"
You Miao had fallen out with Li Yan over the whole Quanrong slave business, so the thought of picking sides now made him a little uneasy. The young wastrels of the capital might be young, but were their families ignorant simpletons? Of course not. And naturally, the boys were influenced by what they saw and heard at home and knew about the political factions and the fight for the throne. Each of them had long since picked their team in the game—and they would follow Li Yan to the end.
But truth be told, it wouldn't actually be that bad to follow the Third Prince. When the Crown Prince ascended the throne in the future, if the remaining affection he had for his own blood stayed his hand in eliminating his brother and his faction, then the Third Prince would be granted a formal Prince title. If You Miao joined the Third Prince now, he could join him in his wealth later when he was conferred the honors.
You Miao never really had any ambitions. It was enough as long as there was a peaceful and stable place he could stay. If he could decide for himself, then he might as well side with the Third Prince. As long as the third bro didn't conspire to rebel, and if he wasn't wary of his elder brother, then there would hardly be any fewer riches in that life compared to becoming a government official. Nonetheless, You Miao also knew that his dad was hoping he'd land a position—so what could he do, huh?
You Miao smiled and said, "I never wanted to enter the palace in the first place."
You Deyou nodded approvingly. "As long as you get it," he said. "I already declined him for you."
Sigh. No man was free to act as he willed inside the capital. You Miao was just about to head out when another messenger arrived.
"Shaoye, the Chancellor's young master has sent for this to be delivered."
You Deyou's beard flicked a little, and his eyebrows twitched. You Miao took the delivered item and saw that it was a piece of leather with writing on it. It was Li Zhifeng's slave deed.
"What's that?" You Deyou asked.
"Nothin'," You Miao said. Then he reiterated, "It's nothing."
He tucked the slave deed into his breast pocket, threw a heh-heh at his uncle, and hurried away.
[1] "Silk strings" is a homophone for "thoughts" and "longing."
[2] The word used here is "mandarin ducks," which are symbols of love.
[3] Xie Lingyun is a renowned Song Dynasty poet known for his travels. The Concubines Xiang are a pair of twin sisters who committed suicide by jumping into a river after the death of their husband, the emperor.
[4] Reference to Xianlian Collection, and how it describes the two herbs as spiritual and pure.
[5] Referring to the previous two classics described: when not even the pure and transcendent ancients can bear the loss of their lovers, how can you expect mere mortals to manage?
[6] The four occupations in the Confucian class system are Civil Scholars, Farmers, Artisans, and Merchants. Their level of importance is listed in descending order and is based on their ability to benefit a nation and its people.
[7] Donation to the government as a form of bribery. One can "aid" government causes in return for a title or position.
[8] The final round of the imperial state exam is the palace exam, presided over by the emperor himself. Three [甲 / jia] ranks of Jinshi are selected—the first rank has the top three scorers, followed by rank two and three. The number of chosen Jinshi for rank two and three varies by dynasty.
[9] There are six ministries under the emperor: Ministry of Personnel, Ministry of Revenue, Ministry of Rites, Ministry of War, Ministry of Justice, and Ministry of Public Works. The Chancellor heads all six.
[10] Shangyuan Festival, also known as Yuanxiao, is the Lantern Festival. It is held on the first full moon of the new year, marking the end of Lunar New Year.
[11] When a prince (son of the Emperor) comes of age, he is granted a Prince title of the first or second rank and given land, which he will then move to and govern.
[12] A nickname. "Ping" is a surname and "er" means "two."
[13] The Royal Academy manages music, dance, and theatre for the purposes of court entertainment. The academy also provides prostitutes, who came from various backgrounds: political enemies, prisoners of war, or the family members of disgraced court officials. The academy is under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Rites.
[14] Money bills, or paper money, are promissory notes signed by the government or an officiated money house (an olden times bank).
[15] Book boys/ 书童 are errand boys during study. "Study companion" and "book boy" are two different roles in this context; here, the servants assign someone among them to be study companion each day.
[16] Muscle paralysis powder is a common poison in classic literature that paralyzes a person's bones, tendons, and muscles. The poison is tasteless and colorless, and the victim is rendered unable to use inner qi. After ten days, the poison will dissolve on its own. If poisoned more than once, the victim will die.
[17] An era name is given to a regime or dynasty for year identification and numbering.
[18] A small handheld pot with a piece of burning coal inside for warming. It can also be tucked into sleeves.