DAI SHENGYAN, the old geezer, seemed particularly fond of Wangqing Pavilion. He had even set up his classroom there. Thanks to a few snow-free days and the warmth of several charcoal braziers, Xie Jinglan—although wrapped snugly in furs—no longer had to fear the lakeside chill.
The scenery around Yanbo Lake was all the more mesmerizing in the depths of winter. The sky and water were shining expanses of white, the distant mountain range smudged between them like a stroke of dark ink. Initially, it seemed as if they were seated inside a landscape painting.
But Xiahou Lian was only there to pass the time. During every class, he propped a book on the table with a novel hidden underneath it. When he felt like it, he listened briefly to the lessons on benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trust. And when he lost interest again, he napped or read his novel.
His lack of ambition exasperated Dai Shengyan. At first, the old man tried to encourage him, but he eventually gave up.
Xie Jinglan, meanwhile, listened with rapt attention. After just a few days, dense annotations covered his book. Xiahou Lian felt dizzy just looking at them.
Dai Shengyan's classes were quite intriguing. He taught only in the mornings, leaving the afternoons for Xie Jinglan to read while fishing from the pavilion's viewing platform. If Xie Jinglan had questions, he could go to Dai Shengyan and ask. During such a session, Xie Jinglan stood respectfully by Dai Shengyan's side and posed questions for what felt like hours. Meanwhile, Xiahou Lian sat idly by, counting down the minutes until he could go home and chase sparrows.
Dai Shengyan shook his head at Xiahou Lian. "The essence of learning lies in thinking. If you think, you'll have doubts, and if you have doubts, you'll ask questions. Don't you have anything you'd like to ask, Xiao-Lian?"
Xie Jinglan replied for him. "Xiahou Lian doesn't even read real books. What could he possibly ask? My guess is that he's only curious about the best way to catch birds."
Xiahou Lian laughed. "Shaoye knows me best."
Dai Shengyan sighed; he was at the end of his rope. "Are you serious?"
Xiahou Lian was equally resigned. "Fine, Xiansheng. Since you asked, I do have a question."
"Oh? Let's hear it."
Xie Jinglan also turned to look at Xiahou Lian, who stuck out his tongue and asked, "Of all the Confucians, was Confucius the most knowledgeable?"
"Of course," Dai Shengyan replied.
"Then did he have to memorize the Mencius and Tang dynasty poetry? Or write eight-legged essays?"
Dai Shengyan chuckled. "How could he have memorized the Mencius? Mencius lived a century after Confucius. Tang dynasty poetry and eight-legged essays came even later. This question is rather sloppy, Xiao-Lian."
"Ohhh," said Xiahou Lian, drawing out the sound. "But if even Confucius, the wisest of them all, didn't have to study those things, why must we?"
Dai Shengyan was speechless for a moment. "Fine, fine. I'll leave you be."
From that point forward, Xiahou Lian was free to do as he pleased. As long as he turned in a few poems each day, he'd pass. But even writing poems, with their rhyme schemes and structural guidelines, was torturous. Xiahou Lian would scratch his head, rack his brain, and sneak a few glances at Xie Jinglan's work before cobbling a few lines of his own together. The days were so onerous that Xiahou Lian felt like he would go prematurely gray.
But Dai Shengyan's classes weren't entirely boring. During breaks, he often shared anecdotes from his travels or horror stories he'd read in books.
Though Dai Shengyan appeared thin and frail, the classic image of a proper old scholar, his taste in stories was surprisingly dark. Nine out of ten tales he told were frightening, and some were particularly chilling, such as "The Human-Faced Arm Sore," "The Hand Beneath the Bed," or "The Smiling Mountain Flowers."
In truth, Xie Jinglan thought Dai Shengyan's ghost stories were a waste of time. He would've preferred more discussions on Mencius. He couldn't very well interrupt, though, so he tried instead to study on his own as Dai Shengyan spoke. Yet a moment of carelessness later, he'd find himself hooked, and before he knew it, he'd listened to one spine-chilling tale after another.
Xiahou Lian, who was fearless by nature, saw the horrific stories as trifles, like bedtime snacks. He'd heard plenty of tales that were bloodier and more disturbing. However, this was Xie Jinglan's first time hearing such tales, and Dai Shengyan's eerie descriptions sent shivers down his spine and raised prickling goosebumps on his skin. Despite his fear, he was captivated, hanging on to every word. At night, he tossed and turned, unable to stop himself from checking his arms for a dreaded human-faced sore.
Outside his window, rain began pattering, accompanied by howling wind. The roof tiles rang beneath the plink of raindrops. Xie Jinglan couldn't sleep, so—barefoot, with his blanket trailing behind him—he headed to the outer room to join Xiahou Lian. All he found there, though, was an empty bed.
It was the dead of night. Where could he have gone?
Had he been kidnapped by a ghost or something...?
Of course, Xiahou Lian hadn't been abducted by ghosts. At that moment, he was creeping along the walkways, leaping and climbing until he reached Xie Bingfeng's study and vaulted through the window.
Xie Bingfeng's study was significantly larger than Xie Jingtao's and brimmed with enough books to dazzle the eye. Xiahou Lian made a beeline for the desk, pulling open each drawer until he discovered a stack of letters. Unprotected by lock or key, they likely weren't confidential. Relying on his eidetic memory, Xiahou Lian quickly skimmed each letter's contents, memorizing every name he read.
Xie Bingfeng's life seemed terribly dull. The letters either discussed scholarly pursuits—music, chess, calligraphy, painting—or current political affairs—droughts in eastern Zhejiang, floods along the Yellow River, Tatar invasions at the borders, and so on. There were also quite a few tirades against the eunuch faction.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps approached outside the study. Xiahou Lian froze, then quickly replaced the letters, closed the drawer, and hid inside a cabinet.
The study door opened. Two people stumbled in, colliding with the desk. The sound of heavy breathing filled the room. Who would dare to fight in Xie Bingfeng's study?
"Close the door, you scoundrel," a delicate voice panted.
"All right, all right, I'll close it," a male voice replied.
Xiahou Lian held his breath, staying perfectly still inside the cabinet.
These two were clearly in the throes of passion, the desk shaking with their movements. The woman moaned more and more loudly, her voice mingling with the man's heavy breaths.
Xiahou Lian wasn't ignorant of such activities. He'd flipped through a few of his mother's illustrated books in secret, and though he'd never experienced it himself, he knew enough to blush at what he was overhearing.
He gently cracked the cabinet door open and saw two bodies entwined atop the desk. The woman's eyes were closed, her expression a mix of pain and pleasure, while the man's back was to Xiahou Lian. Each thrust caused the desk to shudder violently.
The woman's hand slid up the man's spine. Suddenly, her seemingly delicate fingers clamped down, then yanked and twisted. A sharp crack echoed through the room, followed by a muffled groan as the man collapsed to the floor like an old, torn sack. His eyes were vacant; he was clearly dead.
Xiahou Lian had never seen a corpse before. The sight was far more gruesome than the tidy lines of text in his novels or his mother's simple descriptions conveyed. The body was still warm, its bloodshot eyes open in an empty stare. Xiahou Lian stared at the pale face, his hands growing cold as he clutched the cabinet door.
He covered his mouth, terrified, and quietly pulled the cabinet door shut, waiting for the woman to leave.
Suddenly, the delicate voice spoke again. "Come out, little thief in the cabinet."
He'd been discovered! Heart racing, Xiahou Lian debated whether to obey.
At that point, a blade as thin as a cicada's wing pierced the cabinet door, stopping an inch from Xiahou Lian's nose. He gaped at the gleaming blade, his heart nearly leaping from his throat.
"If I stab again, it will draw blood."
Xiahou Lian covered his eyes with one hand and crawled from the cabinet. "Spare me, Jiejie! I didn't see anything—I don't know anything!"
"No? I wondered who'd be brazen enough to sneak into the lord's study in the dead of night. So it was you, young Xiahou."
Lowering his hand, Xiahou Lian saw a beautiful woman standing before him, her lips curved in a half smile. She was dressed like the manor's maids and was still disheveled from her earlier "battle." Her garments had slipped down, revealing her rounded shoulders and breasts.
The woman reached under her arm and tore away the white mounds, then peeled off her mask to reveal a handsome, elegant face. She stretched her neck, her cracking bones echoing as she instantly grew several inches taller.
Before Xiahou Lian's stunned eyes, she had transformed into a man.
"You—you're Qiu-dage!"
The Kinnara, Qiu Ye, was one of the Eight Legions of the Garden. Xiahou Lian had often seen him in the mountains. Qiu Ye was amiable; he was usually the first person Xiahou Lian and his mother begged for food.
Suddenly, Xiahou Lian wondered whether Qiu Ye's blade was the man's famous Qiushui.
Who could've imagined that his first meeting with Qiu Ye away from the mountain would be so…complicated? For a long time, Xiahou Lian was speechless.
"Hm. You didn't know my special talents." Qiu Ye flashed Xiahou Lian a radiant smile. "My family's secret techniques are bone-shrinking and disguise."
"I've only heard about them. The descriptions…truly don't do them justice," Xiahou Lian said, mouth agape.
Qiu Ye kindly helped Xiahou Lian close his mouth, saying with a smile, "To think I'd meet you in a place like this. What a fateful encounter. My Qiushui almost killed you just now."
Xiahou Lian didn't respond. He could really have done without such a fateful encounter.
"Xiao-Lian," Qiu Ye continued, "I can sense your extraordinary talent. If your mother happens to meet her end in the Western Regions, come find me. Become my disciple, and I'll teach you my techniques. Then you can charm and seduce all the women and men you wish. What do you say?"
Hell no. He didn't want to end up some kind of half-man, half-woman thing!
Xiahou Lian shook his head like a rattle drum.
Qiu Ye sighed in disappointment and flicked Xiahou Lian's head. "You little brat. You can't appreciate the benefits of this ability. Others beg me to teach them, and I still refuse."
"I'll stick to swordsmanship," Xiahou Lian insisted. His image of Qiu Ye as a kindly older brother had been shattered. Even speaking to him was awkward now. "I can conquer the world with my saber alone; I don't need your help. Besides, I have no doubt my mother will come back safely."
"You haven't even got a proper saber. How will you conquer the world?"
"I'll get a proper one eventually," Xiahou Lian muttered. "Why are you here, Qiu-dage? Did someone hire you to kill that guy? He looks familiar—is that the Xie manor's steward?"
"Have you forgotten Qiye Garden's rules? We work independently, and we never get involved with each other. Go back to bed. When I have time, I'll find you, and then we can have some fun together."
"Mm-hmm..."
Xiahou Lian left the study, glancing back every few steps. He desperately wanted to ask Qiu Ye how he'd fooled the steward into believing that he was a woman.
Weren't men and women built differently? Were those paintings all lies?
But, in the end, Xiahou Lian couldn't bring himself to ask.
Qiu Ye watched Xiahou Lian leave, then pulled another mask from his robe and slid it on. He stripped the dead man and put on his clothes, then wiped Xiahou Lian's footprints from the windowsill. The scene now clean, Qiu Ye closed the door and carried the corpse away.
Anyone passing at that moment would've been terror-struck, for the living man carrying the corpse looked exactly like the dead body itself.
Xiahou Lian returned to Qiuwu Courtyard in a daze. As he opened the door, he saw Xie Jinglan sitting beside his bed, wrapped in a blanket and nodding off.
Xiahou Lian's heart nearly leapt from his chest. How long had Xie Jinglan been waiting there?
Xie Jinglan rubbed his eyes and looked up, saying groggily, "Where did you go? Why are you coming back so late?"
"I went to the latrine."
Xie Jinglan looked at him suspiciously. "What took you so long? Are you constipated or something? Too much yang energy?"
"Maybe a little," Xiahou Lian lied guiltily, then pushed him aside. "Why were you sitting here? I'm going to sleep."
Xie Jinglan stood for a moment, hesitating. "It's...cold outside. Want to come sleep in the inner chamber?"
"Cold? There are two braziers in here." Xiahou Lian looked at Xie Jinglan's conflicted expression and suddenly understood. "You're scared to sleep alone?"
"You're the one who's scared! I've always slept alone." But Dai-xiansheng had been telling a lot of ghost stories…
Xiahou Lian already knew the truth, but for the sake of Xie Jinglan's dignity, he chose not to voice it. He obediently picked up his pillow and blanket, then gently nudged Xie Jinglan back to the inner chamber.
"It is chilly outside. Let's go."
With Xiahou Lian in the room, Xie Jinglan immediately felt much more at ease. The rain had stopped, and the darkness was quiet. He could hear Xiahou Lian's breathing and the occasional rustle as the other boy turned in bed.
"Are you asleep, Shaoye?" Xiahou Lian asked softly.
"Not yet."
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Go ahead."
"If an official were caught forming a cabal, what kind of punishment would he face?"
"With friends come cliques. Scholars often don't get along, and they'll form alliances against each other based on their teacher or region. The Niu, Li, Zhe, Hui, and other factions were all the same. The severity of the punishment would depend on whom they'd allied with and what private interests they'd pursued."
"Um..." Xiahou Lian pondered for a while, racking his brain for how to phrase his question.
"Whom they'd allied with"? He certainly couldn't bring up Xie Bingfeng and his gang of cronies. "What private interests they'd pursued"? There didn't seem to be any evidence that particularly selfish interests were involved, just talk of tea tasting and painting appraisals alongside curses against the eunuch faction.
How was he supposed to phrase this? For the first time in his life, Xiahou Lian felt that he should probably have read more. That could at least have helped him hoodwink Xie Jinglan now.
"Could you give me some examples?" he hedged.
Xie Jinglan thought for a moment. "Are you familiar with the Partisan Prohibitions of the Han dynasty? Never mind—you probably aren't. Grand Commandant Dou Wu allied with scholars and marched his troops into the palace to eliminate the eunuch Cao Jie and his faction. Cao Jie ended up capturing him instead. Scholars like Li Ying submitted petitions pleading their case, but Cao Jie falsely accused them of plotting a rebellion. Li Ying, Du Mi, Fan Pang, and other great scholars of the time were all executed, and over seven hundred people were implicated."
Damn. That's terrifying.
Xiahou Lian recalled the contents of Xie Bingfeng's letters. There'd been no mention of anything like storming the palace, so their contents probably weren't that serious. "What if the cabal was just drinking tea, admiring paintings, cursing the eunuchs, or calling a girl over to sing a few songs?"
"They'd just be a clique of literati. Even if their actions were held against them, they'd at most be told that officials shouldn't solicit prostitutes and slapped with a fine. Then again…the eunuchs are notoriously petty. In the worst-case scenario, they might be accused of dereliction of duty."
Xiahou Lian breathed a sigh of relief. There was no cause for worry; Xie Bingfeng didn't seem to be in any real trouble.
Then Xie Jinglan asked, "Why are you asking about this all of a sudden?"
Xiahou Lian made up excuses. "No reason, just curious. What if I end up an official someday and need some allies or backers?"
"Pfft. Give up on that idea. You couldn't even pass the entry exams. But with your brawn, you could probably become a constable."
Xiahou Lian didn't respond, and they plunged into silence. The moon peeked from behind the clouds, spilling silver rays across the room.
"Hey, Shaoye. Would you ever ally yourself with the eunuchs?" Xiahou Lian turned to look at Xie Jinglan.
For a moment, Xie Jinglan was taken aback. "Teacher said, 'The world is full of hardship, but the heart must remain good.' I would never become the eunuchs' lackey. If push came to shove, and they caused some upheaval in the court, I might take a post outside the capital to help secure the peace. But when the chaos subsided, I'd return to the court to help stabilize the nation once more."
"What if you found yourself in a desperate situation in which you had no other choice?"
"Life and death are up to fate. I can't control whether I live or die, but I can at least choose the path I walk."
Xie Jinglan wanted to say more, but when he turned his head, he saw that Xiahou Lian had grown still. All Xie Jinglan could hear was the sound of his steady breathing.
Xiahou Lian had actually nodded off.
Xie Jinglan turned over and gazed serenely at Xiahou Lian's face. Moonlight filtered through the paper window, casting a gentle glow on his porcelain cheeks. He stared at the other boy for a long time before finally closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.