He looked just like a large macaque.
Laughter drew the attention of the group of men and women reciting poetry. Several faces turned simultaneously; their expressions beamed as they gazed at the female Daoist, but filled with disgust when they looked toward Chen Hongzhi and Li Xu.
The female Daoist finally ceased her prolonged laughter, her eyes settling gently on Li Xu's face with a warmth as soothing as a hot spring, mysterious and unfathomable, veiled in mist. She lifted her petite teapot, took a sip, then tilted her neck to rinse her mouth, spitting the tea skyward. The liquid arced through the sun’s rays, forming a rainbow.
Turning back, the rainbow-spitting Daoist addressed Li Xu with lazy grace, “...You truly have backbone.”
“There’s a sharpness hidden in her words, yet her voice is so sweet. And the way she sprays water in public—I don’t find it improper at all. In fact, it’s rather endearing...” Li Xu felt bewildered. This woman had allowed her disciple to abduct his sworn brother and treated him with such disregard; resentment should have filled his heart.
Yet he could not summon the slightest hatred. Why was that?
“Did you hear that? The Master praises your backbone. In ancient times, a strong-willed official would not bow for five bushels of rice; today, we have General Yang boldly talking back to Master Wuyou.” Chen Hongzhi waggled his head, spouting his crooked logic with a serious air, while the female Daoist blossomed into laughter.
“Backbone? Hmph... That’s nothing. There’s a part of me much harder than that.” Li Xu chuckled lewdly to himself, his face reddening. He realized that, before this woman, he was like a fool; if he didn’t play the rogue, he would become little more than a clown, led about by the nose.
“All right, all right, if we go on, General Yang’s face will open a dye shop. My busy friend Chen and the steadfast Yang have come here—not simply for a cup of tea, I suppose?”
After circling the matter, she finally brought them to the point. Yang was about to explain their purpose, but Chen Hongzhi rushed in first, his aged face brimming with smiles. “Master, if I may explain, yesterday the palace held a feast to reward the soldiers who suppressed bandits in the northwest. Today, those soldiers have come to the Southern Bureau to receive their official commissions. Most are from remote parts, lacking polish in etiquette, and I worried they might, in their excitement, disturb your tranquility. So I took these two young companions for a stroll...”
At this, Chen Hongzhi lowered his head, hesitant, as if he wished to say more but held back.
“Oh? And what did your stroll yield?”
“Er...”
“If you won’t say, forget it. I detest dithering.”
“Oh, you see, what’s there to hide before the Master? Well, here’s the thing: the son of Deputy Guo from the Temple of Rites, Cui Yudong, was drinking at Hu’s Tavern. He got drunk and, in his revelry, tossed a wine jug down from the upper floor. By some unlucky chance, it struck one of your female disciples on the head. Quite the commotion, as you can imagine.”
No need to continue; the female Daoist’s expression darkened. She cast a glance at Yang, a hint of amusement returning to her eyes. “So General Yang is here to demand justice?”
“No, I’ve come to apologize to the Master on behalf of my brother.”
Li Xu felt helpless. He had come to rescue someone, not to quarrel. If enduring a little humiliation would spare his third brother some punishment, what harm? Besides, losing face before this half-celestial beauty hardly mattered.
“Spring Flower, Autumn Moon, go find out who brought outsiders into the temple. Once you know, give them thirty strokes, then bring them to me.”
How long does Spring Flower Autumn Moon last? Li Xu spun to glance at the twin girls, secretly admiring their names.
“Oh dear, the young Cui also erred. Let’s spare him the beating.” Chen Hongzhi said, beckoning to Spring Flower and Autumn Moon.
The two girls ignored him entirely, received Wuyou’s orders, and marched off, with Chen Hongzhi shuffling after them.
Chen, ever shrewd, knew the importance of matching words with deeds. He feared further complications might harm Cui Yudong, so he humbled himself and chased after the twins.
With Chen gone, Li Xu found himself alone, facing the female Daoist.
His palms sweated with nervousness, his heart quivered, yet he kept a composed smile.
“Do you know how you offended me?” The Daoist propped her head with one hand, shifting to a more comfortable, reclining pose.
Li Xu licked his lips and shook his head. He had surrendered; before this woman, he was utterly defeated.
“What schemes did you suggest to Li Zhan? He borrowed all my musicians. That child is notorious for borrowing things and not returning them. If I don’t get my musicians back, I’ll hold you responsible.”
“Oh, so that’s what it’s about.” Relief washed over Li Xu; he had feared it was something far worse.
“Well, here’s what happened...” Suddenly his dry mouth became eloquent, and he recounted the events of his visit to the palace and his encounter with Li Zhan in the Pure Sound Hall, detailing everything, including his thoughts and feelings at the time. Though he had cautioned himself to be discreet, he found himself unable to lie or embellish, pouring out only the truth.
The Daoist reclined lazily, right hand propping her head, left hand holding her exquisite teapot—like a reclining Buddha, though she was clearly a Daoist priestess. She listened with a gentle smile, her eyes full of warm sunlight.
That gaze gave Li Xu tremendous encouragement. No longer concerned with truth or falsehood, his storytelling grew ever more vivid. It had been so long since he’d felt this way—the last time, over a thousand years ago, on an early autumn afternoon in his messy bachelor dorm. A woman had reclined like a Buddha, listening to his stories. That day, he talked from afternoon till sunset, and then... everything happened, as it must and must not, and Li Xu was forced to end his happy bachelor life, plunging madly into the grave of love.
...
Suddenly, Li Xu realized he had drifted off; his speech slowed noticeably, and his gaze toward the woman grew... ambiguous.
“You speak so amusingly. How is it that, so young, your belly holds so many stories?”
Illusion—it must be an illusion. Years later, another woman had said those very words to him. Li Xu knocked his head hard; dizziness confirmed it was indeed an illusion. The woman before him was speaking, but her words were:
---
“Are you thirsty?”
Then she offered her little teapot.
“Um,” Li Xu, flustered, took it and drank without thinking. Something was off.
“Ugh, why is it wine?” He sputtered; the teapot held wine, and he coughed violently from the sudden gulp.
The Daoist laughed so hard she nearly fell over. “You didn’t even ask before gulping it down!”
She sat upright, waved her hand, and a female novice brought a bowl of clear soup. Li Xu grabbed it and drank, calming his cough, though his face was smeared with tears and snot.
The novice giggled, “Come with me.”
Li Xu returned the teapot to Master Wuyou, bowed, and followed the girl through corridors to a secluded annex, where she drew water for him to wash his face. Then she handed him a silk handkerchief, saying, “Disregarding propriety is indeed the hallmark of scholars, but wiping your nose on your sleeve is unbearably vulgar.”
The remark made Li Xu blush deeply.
The girl was clean and fresh, her bright eyes sparkling with intelligence, irresistibly charming. Li Xu engaged her in conversation, quickly learning the identities of the poetry group in the courtyard: a Duke, a Marquis, two retired Prime Ministers, and a recuperating Military Governor.
Li Xu was secretly amazed; no wonder Chen Hongzhi was so careful—this Xuan Zhen Temple was truly a place of hidden dragons.
Finally, Li Xu asked the girl her name. She laughed, “Guess.”
Li Xu felt helpless. He could guess anything, but how do you guess a person’s name? He shook his head. “I can’t guess.”
She giggled, “My name is ‘Guess’.”
Li Xu stared blankly for a moment before understanding. Who had given her such a name, just to tease people?
She then asked Li Xu his name.
Li Xu replied, “I go.”
She blinked, “Where are you going?”
Li Xu said, “Not you, me. My name is ‘I go’.”
The girl laughed even harder, nearly doubling over. When she finally regained her composure, she said, “In the future, you can call me Guess’er. ‘Guess’ is just a name Master uses to amuse people.”
Li Xu solemnly replied, “My surname is Yang, my name is Yang Zan, courtesy name Invincible. ‘I go’ is a name I just thought up; in all the world, only you know.”
Guess’er said, “I know your surname, and that you’re from Pingshan, General Yang.” She glanced at him, “Are you truly clueless, or just pretending? Don’t you see I’m joking? Who would have such an ugly name as ‘Guess’er’? I’m called Qing, no surname. Though I wear Daoist robes, I’m not ordained. Master says when I turn fifteen and understand things, I can choose whether to become a Daoist or marry as a lady. General Yang, are you married?”
Li Xu replied, “Yes, I am. My wife and I are very close; we plan to have a child next year.”
Qing laughed, “Why are you so nervous? I’m only thirteen; I won’t marry for two years.”
Li Xu scrutinized the girl called Qing, thinking, “Like master, like disciple. This trip to Xuan Zhen Temple has taught me a lot; now I finally understand the meaning of ‘eccentric flower’.”
Upon returning to the courtyard, Li Xu saw Chen Hongzhi had also returned, bowing as he spoke to Master Wuyou. At the edge of the lawn, a middle-aged female Daoist knelt, while Qingfeng and Mingyue took turns slapping her cheeks with bamboo boards. The boards were a foot long and a hand wide, making sharp sounds upon contact, but the woman uttered no screams, as she had a piece of softwood clenched in her mouth.
“Oh dear, quickly plead for mercy, or it might turn deadly,” Chen Hongzhi called, seeing Li Xu watching the spectacle from beneath the eaves, and hurried over, tugging at his sleeve.
“If you can’t plead successfully, how can I?” Li Xu instinctively refused. Though he found the punishment harsh, the Daoist’s misdeeds seemed to warrant it.
After some tugging, Chen pushed Li Xu before Master Wuyou.
“Do you wish to plead for her?”
Before Li Xu could reply, Master Wuyou asked. Her gaze, previously sharp and commanding, softened when it fell upon Li Xu, sending a chill down his spine. He stammered, “Master, your discipline is your own; as an outsider, I ought not interfere. But as the saying goes, a good dog learns with one lesson, a bad dog is hopeless even when beaten to death. The wicked woman has been punished; she surely knows her mistake. Let her have a chance to mend her ways... Next time she errs, double the punishment.”
Li Xu’s last words were full of menace. At first, seeing the woman’s bloodied cheeks, he felt pity and intended to plead for her, but when she glared at him with the viciousness of a wounded wolf, his disgust overcame him, and he changed his plea.
“A good dog learns with one lesson, a bad dog is hopeless even when beaten to death. Well said. I didn’t expect you, so young, to understand so much.” The Daoist, her face full of spring, turned cold as she addressed Qingfeng and Mingyue, “Lock her in the woodshed, starve her for three days. If she survives, send her to the laundry room. Strip her of privileges; she’ll serve as a menial from now on.”
Qingfeng obeyed, kicking the woman, “Thank the Master!”
The woman spat out the softwood, trembling as she kowtowed, her voice hoarse as she thanked Master Wuyou, before being dragged away.
Supported by two girls, Master Wuyou stood lazily, drifting over like a willow in the breeze, smiling as she addressed Li Xu and Chen Hongzhi, “Are you satisfied with my handling of the matter?”
---
“How could we dare? How could we dare? It was this old servant who disturbed your peace; I deserve ten thousand deaths.” Chen Hongzhi replied, then fell silent, realizing Master Wuyou’s attention was wholly on Yang Zan, not himself.
“In a few days, there will be a poetry gathering by the Qujiang Pool. Will General Yang care to join us for a drink?”
“I am a man of the sword, not versed in poetry. You flatter me, Master.”
“Who truly understands poetry? A group of common folk, looking for an excuse to gather and amuse themselves. Must I send you an invitation for you to grace us?”
“I am honored to receive your favor.”
Just as Li Xu accepted, he asked, “Master, are you in league with Li Zhongcheng and his crowd?”
Master Wuyou looked surprised, “Has Li Deyu invited you?”
Li Xu flushed, “Yesterday in the palace, Wenrao kindly invited me to the Qujiang Pool gathering.”
Master Wuyou clapped her hands and laughed, “Wonderful, wonderful, then I needn’t bother with invitations.”
At that moment, Chen Hongzhi interjected, “General Yang, you shouldn’t say that. Master’s poetry and painting are unrivaled; her invitations are specially made, even finer than Xue Tao’s stationery. All the literati in Chang’an consider it an honor to receive her calligraphy; I hear the black market prices reach three hundred strings of cash for one invitation.”
“Really?!” Li Xu, puzzled over who Xue Tao was, hurriedly asked.
Chen Hongzhi replied, “Of course. I even thought about getting one for my collection.”
Hearing this, Li Xu turned to Master Wuyou, “As for the Qujiang Pool gathering, Wenrao only mentioned it; I don’t know the specific time and place. Please let me know afterward. Thank you, thank you. I take my leave.”
He spoke without waiting for a reply, threw a glance at the dumbfounded Chen Hongzhi, and strode away.
“Hahaha... What an amusing fellow.”
“Amusing? Feigning madness, making vulgarity into fun, inviting him to a poetry gathering—aren’t you afraid he’ll be the laughingstock?”
...
“My dear brother, I was only joking—how could you take it seriously and actually ask for an invitation? Oh, you’ve disgraced all propriety. Did you see Master’s face at our departure? You had her laughing and crying at once, surely she hates you now. You, you...”
From the moment they left Master Wuyou, Chen Hongzhi began to berate Li Xu, and continued all the way out of Xuan Zhen Temple, unable to finish. In the old eunuch’s eyes, Li Xu was hopeless, utterly disappointing.
“You don’t know what it’s like to be hungry. Three hundred strings! A deputy’s monthly salary is only fifteen strings, twenty at most with extras. You know my family’s poverty—we’re drowning in debt. I don’t even have the travel expenses for my post. Three hundred strings is a fortune... Besides, she offered the invitation herself.”
“You... Poverty hasn’t robbed you of your ambition, but for a mere three hundred strings, you’d lose your face?”
Li Xu chuckled, “What’s shameful about asking the renowned Master Wuyou for an invitation?”
Hearing this shameless talk, Chen Hongzhi flung his sleeve and walked off, declaring his disdain.
While Li Xu and Chen Hongzhi were still inside Xuan Zhen Temple, Cui Yudong had already been released. In that hour, many things had happened to him—whether he suffered or not depends on perspective.
At least, to Li Third Brother, it was nothing remarkable.
It was just a group of women who cornered him in a dark room and teased him verbally. No one laid a hand on him.
“No problem, definitely no problem; they didn’t touch me at all.” Li Third Brother assured, “You can see at a glance—no lipstick marks, clothes intact, even my hair still neat. How could anything have happened?”
Li Xu asked, “So, in your opinion, what would constitute something happening?”
Li Third Brother rolled his eyes, thought for a moment, then pointed at Li Xu and laughed, “You’re up to no good, aren’t you? You want to trick me, you schemer. I won’t say more, lest you turn it into a joke at my expense.”
He was quite pleased with himself for seeing through Li Xu’s plot.
Shortly after Li Xu and Chen Hongzhi entered Xuan Zhen Temple, a group of palace guards arrived, dispersing the gathered crowd. They cleared a tea room for Princess Taihe to rest, and when Chen Hongzhi learned Cui Yudong had been released, he rushed off to report his success to the princess, holding up his robe and running like a monkey.
———