Salivating with desire

It is often said that beauties have fiery tempers, but there must always be a reason. Staring at someone like a thief for no cause is hardly the way to treat a guest. Li Xu felt his anger rising. It was their people who had abducted someone; as the brother of the victim, he had come to demand their return. They didn’t even bother to lay out seven or eight tables, invite them in for a couple of drinks, serenade them, or dance to lighten the mood. At the very least, they ought to greet him with a smile. Was it merely because they were twin beauties that they felt entitled to glare and throw tantrums without provocation? What kind of senseless logic was that?

He grumbled inwardly, but his face was plastered with a sycophantic smile. After all, offering a smile to a beauty wasn’t exactly disgraceful. “Ladies, please inform the Master that humble Chen Hongzhi requests an audience,” he said, bowing so low that he could have walked on all fours. His words and demeanor were so reverent Li Xu felt embarrassed for him.

The two beautiful priestesses seemed satisfied. The younger sister curled her lips and muttered, “Another sycophant.” The elder remained stern, her sharp gaze slicing toward Li Xu. “Are you mute?”

“I…” Li Xu’s anger surged, ready to put the impudent priestesses in their place. But then he reconsidered: she was the host, he the guest; she a woman, he a man; she was young and this was her first offense. For his own sake, he decided to let it pass and replied, bowing, “Yang Zan, newly appointed military advisor of Shaozhou.”

“A Shaozhou official causing trouble here, hmph. Advisor Yang? The back door is that way,” the younger twin teased, winking at her elder sister, who sported a red mole at her brow.

“No need to mock me, ladies. I am here on official business and ask for your assistance,” Yang said.

“Official business? Hahahaha…” The two priestesses burst into inexplicable laughter, their bodies trembling with mirth, leaving Li Xu baffled.

Chen Hongzhi forced a smile, then shot Yang Zan a fierce glare, his face still smiling but his eyes chilling. Li Xu ignored him.

“Please, go ahead.” The laughter abruptly stopped, their expressions returning to solemnity as quickly as the laughter had appeared.

“There’s something odd here!” Li Xu thought. “Everyone in this temple seems eccentric. I’m not afraid of true madness, only feigned lunacy. If these twin sisters are so troublesome, what must their royal aunt be like?”

The twins split, the younger leading the way, the elder following behind.

“Many thanks,” Chen Hongzhi said, bowing and stepping onto the corridor.

Li Xu, unsettled, passed by the elder sister, his heart trembling and his legs weak. He forgot to examine whether the mole at her brow was a pigment deposit or merely a small growth. That red mole lent her a sudden allure, making her more charming than her sister. Ah, a good mole indeed! What did the physiognomists say? A mole by the mouth brings prosperity to one's husband. Oh, but that was at the mouth. Was it pigment or a growth? He longed to solve the mystery, but the chance was lost, leaving only regret. In his current state, he dared not even glance back; not only was he unable to bend his waist, but even walking had become problematic, tottering like a child learning to walk.

Having someone with a sword standing behind you, watching your every move—if there were a phrase to describe this feeling, it would be “a thorn in the back.” Today, Li Xu deeply understood the meaning of that phrase.

The main hall of the courtyard was empty. Passing through a brocade screen and circling around, the view suddenly opened up to a square courtyard, four or five acres in size. Along the walls stood tall pines, cypresses, firs, and camphors; inside was a bamboo grove, then a circular path. Outside the path were flowerbeds divided by bamboo fences, the flowers blooming brightly. Inside, a soft green lawn, rising in the northwest and dipping in the southeast, dotted here and there with blossoms.

In the northeast corner, a brocade screen enclosed a square space carpeted with wool rugs, where a group of men in formal hats and robes and women of noble demeanor sat. The men recited poetry and drank, while the women listened in rapt admiration. Nearby, a group of musicians played, and four or five dancers performed the Celestial Demon Dance, their slender waists and supple bodies moving gracefully, each gesture and smile evoking a sense of heavenly beauty.

Li Xu slowed his pace, and a dry cough thundered behind him.

Cough!

He turned to see a face as lovely as a flower, eyes cold as ice. Li Xu smiled politely, then continued on his way with gentlemanly composure.

That glance revealed much: first, the red mole at the beauty’s eye was indeed pigment; second, she was very close—less than ten feet, within the boundary of psychological intimacy. Could she be interested in him?

Li Xu shamelessly wondered, but soon forgot the beauty behind him, for another spectacle had appeared.

A female priestess in a high crown and moon-white robe had joined the dancers, moving with drunken grace, her dance carefree and unrestrained. Her figure was superb, her neck slender, her skin fresh and pale. Her features were hidden behind a white fox mask.

This must be the priestess Wuyou. Li Xu estimated her age at twenty-seven or twenty-eight, a mature and alluring woman.

Chen Hongzhi stood at the lawn’s edge, hands lowered, smiling patiently.

Li Xu folded his arms, keeping one eye on the white fox priestess, the other scanning the twin sisters. The pose was tiring, and soon his vision blurred, his head spun, and he felt faintly nauseous. He blinked hard, gritted his teeth, and focused on the sisters.

They stood beneath the dripping eaves, still cold and aloof, but the sharp hostility in their eyes had softened into warmth. Especially the younger, whose smiling eyes occasionally lingered on him. Li Xu felt nervous; had he known, he would have seen a doctor beforehand. His damned nose itched, mucus stirred in his nostrils. To sniffle before beauties would ruin his image.

I endure, I endure, but the struggle is unbearable…

Li Xu glanced helplessly at the sisters, his spirits lifting somewhat: the elder seemed more versed in the Dao, especially with that captivating red mole; the younger was merely posing…

“One look at a beauty and your nose stops itching?”

Li Xu was mentally reviewing the sisters when Chen Hongzhi whispered in his ear, then handed him something. Li Xu took it without looking. “What is this, Master Chen?”

“If you don’t want to disgrace yourself before the beauties, swallow it at once,” Chen Hongzhi sneered.

Li Xu looked down and realized it was a red pill, identical to the one Li Deyu had given him. Trusting it, he palmed it, feigned a cough, and swallowed it.

Chen Hongzhi glanced sideways at him, saying nothing. Li Xu felt settled after swallowing the pill. He looked around, bored, when Chen Hongzhi coughed and whispered, “Time to go.”

The singing and dancing had ceased. The men and women praised the white-robed priestess, some improvising poems for her. She laughed wildly, uninhibited. Li Xu was unsure if it was appropriate to approach now; affairs among literati were best left untouched.

The Tang Dynasty was the age of poetry; though Li Bai and Du Fu were gone, Yuan Bai and Little Du were still alive. Who knew if among these robed men there were Bai Juyi, Yuan Zhen, or Du Mu themselves?

If he joined, would Wuyou demand a poem from him? To agree or refuse? He couldn’t compose poetry, only doggerel, and plagiarize a few lines. Yuan Bai and Little Du’s works were too risky; Li Shangyin still had two usable poems, but plagiarism would mean first being praised, then exposed and reviled. Why bother? No face to lose before beauties.

Li Xu was lost in such thoughts when a heavenly voice drifted to his ear:

“If you’ve come, come closer. Standing eight yards away—do you think I’ll eat you?”

He hadn’t noticed, but Wuyou had already approached, just finished dancing, sweat still lingering on her brow. She’d removed her mask, but her features were still blurred, her face painted to resemble the white fox. Three acolytes spread seats on the lawn; Li Xu and Chen Hongzhi had square ones, Wuyou’s was rectangular.

Li Xu wondered at this unconventional hospitality, but Wuyou suddenly untied her sash and began undressing. Though this was a voluntary display, and he longed to glimpse the beauty beneath the moon-white robe, Li Xu blushed and lowered his head. The rustling of clothes filled his ears. He regretted not covering his eyes, for at least he could have peeked through his fingers.

Such a painful lesson.

“Sir, please enjoy some tea.” An acolyte handed him a fragrant cup. Li Xu took it hastily, accidentally grabbing both cup and hand. The small hand was soft and fragrant, but Li Xu recoiled as if stung, spilling half the tea but keeping the cup.

“Thank you, thank you.” He bowed and drank, his trembling hand rattling the cup and lid. The acolyte smiled and withdrew. Meanwhile, Chen Hongzhi chatted with Wuyou, seemingly unaware of the incident.

Wuyou had changed into a blue robe, now lying lazily on the rectangular rug, her right arm propped as a pillow, her left hand holding a delicate purple clay teapot. She listened with interest to Chen Hongzhi’s tales from the palace: a concubine drunken at a banquet, a servant falling into the fish pond, a mischievous prince stealing a hairpin during a ball game, and other oddities.

Wuyou’s gaze was warm, her smile gentle as spring, though it was somewhat eerie with the fox mask.

Li Xu, taking refuge in tea, calmed himself and gazed northeast. The white-faced, long-bearded literati were still reciting poetry, eyes closed, heads swaying as if traversing the world in their minds. The women’s heads swayed too, seemingly determined to make what little brain matter they had even stickier.

These women were plump and mature, their faces noble, their manners composed. Their hair was adorned with valuable pins and ornaments that shone in the sunlight, yet they wore them carelessly, reflecting not only wealth but absolute status.

They understood that the distinction between wealth and nobility lay in one’s attitude toward riches. Those who revere wealth may be rich but not noble. True nobility is to possess without attachment.

Li Xu began to understand why Chen Hongzhi was so cautious; Wuyou’s guests were all people of great fortune and power, well beyond his own station.

Chen Hongzhi finally steered the conversation to the main point, but Wuyou interrupted, staring at Li Xu. “Oh, an official from beyond the capital… Forgive my rudeness.”

She sat upright and feigned anger at Chen Hongzhi. “Old Chen, with an outsider present, why didn’t you say so earlier? You made me treat him too casually.” She paused, her cheeks reddening slightly.

Chen Hongzhi laughed. “You wrong me, Madam—how could I be at fault? It’s only that you failed to recognize him.”

Wuyou playfully scolded, “Still daring to talk back! I’ll deal with you later.”

She turned to Li Xu. “I drank too much today. Forgive any offense. May I ask your name?”

Li Xu rose and bowed. “Yang Zan, newly appointed military advisor of Shaozhou in Lingnan Province, greets Master Wuyou.”

The priestess sized him up. “You wouldn’t happen to be Yang Dalang of the Marquis of Border Defense’s household?”

Li Xu was startled. She knew Yang Zan?

“Yes, I am Yang Zan.”

“You really are Yang Zan?” There was a hint of dissatisfaction in her tone.

“Oh, Yang Zan, when did you offend the Master? You’ve angered a semi-immortal; better kneel and beg forgiveness. Let me intercede, and perhaps you’ll be spared,” Chen Hongzhi said solemnly, clearly intent on stirring trouble.

“That’s enough, don’t scare the boy,” Wuyou snapped, glaring at Chen Hongzhi. “He did offend me, and not even for your sake, nor anyone else’s, will I forgive him.”

Chen Hongzhi laughed heartily.

But the awkwardness persisted. Li Xu remained respectfully standing, confused. Chen Hongzhi was equally puzzled; he had no idea what history lay between Yang Zan and Wuyou.

Yet he understood one thing: Yang Zan had only returned to Chang’an yesterday, having spent the last two years in the northwest, and two years ago he had been a mere fourteen-year-old boy. Whatever grievance existed, it could hardly be serious.

Reading the situation, the priestess seemed angry, but in truth…

Chen Hongzhi felt he understood. He coughed and said to Li Xu, “If you’ve offended the Master, apologize quickly. She’s a semi-immortal, surely she won’t trouble a mere mortal.”

Chen Hongzhi’s words carried a hidden meaning. Li Xu caught on and quickly bowed.

“Wait. Offending me, and you think an apology suffices?” The priestess’s tone remained cold, but her eyes sparkled with warmth, and her lips curled in a barely concealed smile.

Li Xu relaxed, as did Chen Hongzhi. Both realized she wasn’t truly angry, but rather asserting her authority, giving them a test. Even if she wasn’t the mastermind behind the abduction, or knew nothing of it, a busy court priestess and an outside official coming to see her couldn’t be merely for tea.

No one visits the temple without purpose; it was clear they had a request. Before discussing what they wanted, she would use her position and the moment to give them a thorough shake-up, to unsettle them, so that later, when the real matter was brought up, she’d have the upper hand.

Chen Hongzhi was an expert at these tactics, and Li Xu was at least familiar. Unfortunately, knowing she was playing games, and lacking the strength to resist, he could only play along, albeit reluctantly.

With this in mind, Li Xu asked, neither humble nor arrogant, “May I ask, Master, in what way have I offended you that you must be so exacting?”

“Bold!” Chen Hongzhi cried in shrill voice. “How dare you be disrespectful before the Master! Kneel and beg forgiveness!”

“Ridiculous! An official of the Tang Dynasty kneeling to a female priestess? Master Chen, who made such rules?”

“You—” Chen Hongzhi pointed at Li Xu, his finger trembling, lips quivering, eyes signaling: Enough, don’t push it too far.

Li Xu felt awkward—how could this old eunuch see through his every thought?

The guests were all the priestess’s, and Li Xu doubted she would shamelessly air her subordinate’s misdeeds before them. Thus, he need not grovel, but could speak uprightly for better effect.

Yet the old eunuch saw right through him.

“Hahaha… Yang Zan, well said!” The priestess proved a paper tiger, fierce with the weak, yielding to the strong. Hearing Li Xu’s steady words, her attitude reversed, laughing so hard she nearly doubled over. If only the weather were warmer and her robe less loose…

Li Xu glanced at her chest, swallowed hard, and grinned foolishly.

———