Chapter Ninety-Three: Searching for Someone at the West Market

The next morning, Yu Lang immediately implored Du Fu to find a way into the palace. Whether it had succeeded or not, there should by now have been an answer.

Du Fu knew that Yu Lang was worried about Red Silk’s safety, but a matter such as entering the palace was equally beyond his reach. If he had truly had the good fortune to be received by the Son of Heaven, he would not still be languishing in obscurity. Within the deep palace, security was strict beyond measure; whether news from outside wished to get in or news from within wished to get out, both were unimaginably difficult. When he had last arranged, through a go-between, to meet Gao Lishi, even with Gao Lishi’s willingness to help, it had still taken more than half a month to lay the groundwork. To hope, in such haste, to learn anything about Yang Yuhuan’s entry into the palace the previous night was virtually impossible. Even within the imperial city, those who knew of Yang Yuhuan’s palace entrance from the night before could probably be counted on one hand.

“No news is the best news,” Du Fu comforted Yu Lang. “My eyes and ears may not be able to discover which consort has been rewarded inside the palace, but if some great matter like a noblewoman’s disguise being exposed had occurred, word would surely spread quickly. The fact that there has been no stir by this hour only proves that Red Silk is still safe.”

These were reassurances Yu Lang could have thought of himself, but hearing them from Du Fu made him feel a little more at ease.

Du Fu seemed to think of something and smiled. “Still, if you want to know what is happening in the deep palace, it is not as though there is no way at all.”

“What way?” Yu Lang’s eyes lit up at once, for Du Fu sounded serious.

“Your dear Uncle Li Taibai, of course. At present he serves His Majesty as a Hanlin scholar in attendance, and may even be counted among the emperor’s intimate courtiers. If you can get word to him, this matter will have a proper answer.”

Yu Lang noticed something strange in Du Fu’s expression. “You’ve been away from Yangzhou for nearly four years already, and you still haven’t seen Uncle Taibai even once?”

Du Fu shook his head. “I’ve been to the Hanlin Academy a few times, and not only could I not get inside, I could not even get my visiting slip delivered. The gatekeeper at the Hanlin Academy is a lofty, self-important man with his eyes always above his head. For a poor fellow like me, without any title or degree to my name, he would not even condescend to announce me.”

“You tried bribing him too?”

“I did,” Du Fu said with a wry smile. “The second time I went, I brought money and a generous gift for the gatekeeper as well. Who would have thought he would not even look at it before throwing it back out and saying it served me right for failing to win any degree, that I only knew how to make use of filthy lucre in such uncouth, unliterary ways. After that, I could not even see the gatekeeper again, let alone Li Taibai.”

“If even you, Du Zimei, cannot get in, then I’m afraid I’d have nothing but the door slammed in my face.” Yu Lang frowned. A gatekeeper who could neither be persuaded nor intimidated was indeed a hard nut to crack.

“Or perhaps,” Yu Lang said, his sensitivity catching a subtle shift in Du Fu’s tone, “you really have no way, or maybe you simply do not wish to see him anymore?”

When Du Fu spoke of the Hanlin Academy, there was more than a hint of self-deprecation in his voice, but also a trace of disdain.

Du Fu did not answer Yu Lang directly. Instead, with his hands behind his back, he looked at the globe chrysanthemums on the windowsill. “The Hanlin Academy is nothing more than a flock of birds kept in a cage for the emperor’s amusement. I do not understand how that gatekeeper can be so haughty, nor why Li Taibai should bow his head and bend his back, humiliating himself to remain within. He might have accomplished many great and stirring deeds, yet instead he is content to become only the emperor’s...”

The last two words Du Fu could not bring himself to say aloud: a plaything.

Yu Lang, however, knew that four years ago, when Li Bai left Yangzhou, his mood had been terribly low, almost self-reproachful. His choice to enter the Hanlin Academy and attend the emperor probably had something to do with the damage done to his cultivated spirit that day by Li Yu. Now that Yu Lang himself had come to Chang’an, he would inevitably have to contend with the father and son of the Li clan. As Du Fu had said, Chang’an was a place where fish and dragons mingled in chaos; if he could not find reliable allies, he feared he would be unable to move a single step. He would also have to build up his own power as soon as possible.

Du Fu was quick of mind as well. “From the way you just spoke, you already have a way to find Li Taibai?”

Yu Lang tapped the table lightly and briskly. “It is simple enough. Li Taibai does not spend every day between the palace and the Hanlin Academy. Those are the places we cannot go, but there are others we can.”

“In Chang’an, whichever wine shop brews the best wine, whichever inn serves the most delicious food, Uncle Taibai is bound to be a regular there.”

Du Fu gave a sly chuckle. “So you are not only looking for Li Taibai. I’m afraid the glutton in your own belly can no longer be restrained either.”

Yu Lang told the others that he intended to go sightsee in the east and west markets. Xue Wenyang and Xie Zhiqian were both eager to go, only Aobaba seemed uninterested. It was not that Aobaba disliked excitement; rather, Du Fu’s courtyard had been neglected for so long that he could not bear to look at it. Naturally, the fellow who had grown addicted to the role of steward could not sit by idly. He had to stay behind and tidy up the place for Du Fu.

Du Fu thus led Yu Lang, Xue Wenyang, and Xie Zhiqian first to the West Market, which lay closer to Chonghua Ward.

Across from the main gate of Chonghua Ward stood the Great Cloud Sutra Temple, occupying the entire expanse of Huiyuan Ward by itself. Even through the high walls, everyone could sense the solemn atmosphere within, and many devout men and women in Chang’an had already formed long lines outside.

Seeing Yu Lang staring blankly toward Huiyuan Ward, Du Fu added a few more words. “The abbot of Great Cloud Sutra Temple, Master Jueyuan, is a friend of mine. When night falls and there are fewer sightseers, I can take you in to have a look, and perhaps purify those wicked thoughts filling your head.”

Yu Lang smiled. “I don’t think this Great Cloud Sutra Temple is of much use. You’ve lived beside it all these years, and your bad habits of loving wine and meat have not been purified at all.”

At last, the familiar playful look appeared on Du Fu’s face.

“If you truly are friends with the abbot of Great Cloud Sutra Temple, then I happen to have a way to make money, and to help you reopen the Caotang Inn.” Yu Lang knew that the question of funds was only the first step in reopening Caotang; the real key was how to fend off blow after blow and keep the business running amid a ring of tigers and wolves.

Du Fu shook his head. “Don’t make things difficult for Master Jueyuan. He has always supported my Caotang Inn and even set aside some temple donations for me, but he has to provide for hundreds of monks and handle all the temple’s food, clothing, and daily needs. He simply cannot spare much money.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Yu Lang said. “I said I had a way to make money, and when the time comes I guarantee that stout monk will be rolling in wealth.”

He spoke with complete confidence. Having long been familiar with all the money-making tricks of scenic spots and tourist traps in his past life, he knew that the soil of Buddhist commerce in the Tang Dynasty was much richer. With a little improvement from him, making a tidy profit from these wealthy devotees would be no hard task.

Seeing that Yu Lang meant to keep the secret for now, Du Fu did not press further. If Yu Lang truly had a method, Du Fu was happy to let matters unfold; so long as it did not harm his friendship with Master Jueyuan, that was enough.

They traveled north, passing Huai De Ward, and soon reached the western gate of the West Market.

Inside and outside the market were like two different worlds. The streets outside held only a sparse scattering of pedestrians, yet within the West Market the noise of voices rose to a roar. There were shops and eateries two or three stories high, and small stalls and vendors along the streets, offering all manner of ingenious curiosities that Yu Lang and the others had never seen before in Yangzhou.

Even more astonishing was the scale of the West Market. Looking out across it, one could scarcely see the end. Shops of every kind were packed together in dense rows. A rough count suggested more than a thousand stores along the roads alone; according to Du Fu, the true number was over forty thousand, including a large number of merchants from the Western Regions, Japan, and other lands.

Seeing Xie Zhiqian and Xue Wenyang grow restless with anticipation, Yu Lang smiled. “You two go ahead and wander about. Buy whatever rare things catch your eye. You both have money anyway.”

“Brother Lang is wise indeed.” The two of them were like men granted amnesty, and hurried off toward the shops they fancied.

“There,” Du Fu said, “the most famous wine shop in the West Market is right here.”

Yu Lang looked up and saw before him a beautiful, exquisitely built three-story wooden building. On the signboard, the three bold and flowing characters were none other than Li Taibai’s own calligraphy.

It seemed they had not come to the wrong place.