At midnight, a fine drizzle began to fall. Someone knocked on the Yang family’s main gate.
The city was under curfew, so a knock at this hour must signal urgent business. The gatekeeper quickly opened the small door used for nighttime access and saw a middle-aged scholar leading a horse. What caught the gatekeeper’s attention first was not his face, but his hooded cloak. Under the white lantern’s light, the brown brocade, dampened by rain, shimmered with a pearly luster.
This was the new brocade Yang family had produced for last year’s brocade competition. The Yang family gatekeeper took pride in this, and his attitude became more cordial: “If sir has come to pay respects, please return tomorrow morning. If there’s another business, please provide your name card, and I’ll inform the masters.”
Shu Ye glanced at the Yang character written in wet ink on the white lantern and said solemnly, “My surname is Shu. I was a close friend of Master Yang. Upon receiving news of his death from Yizhou, I rushed here, arriving only now at night. With the city under curfew, it’s inconvenient to find an inn. Anxious to see my friend, I came directly to the Yang residence.”
As he spoke, he pushed back his cloak’s hood, revealing his face. His skin was dark, with an oval face and flowing beard beneath his chin. His small eyes sparkled with an intense light that made the examining gatekeeper’s heart jump, afraid to look further: “Master Shu, please wait. I’ll go report your arrival.”
The gatekeeper called a servant to take Shu Ye’s horse. Shu Ye took his bundle and sword, following the gatekeeper into the side hall by the main gate. Without ceremony, he directly told the gatekeeper: “I’ve traveled all day without food or water. Please fetch some refreshments. Anything to satisfy hunger will do.”
He wasn’t being modest. The gatekeeper agreed, calling a servant to attend to him while personally going to inform the steward.
Steward Li, who managed the outer court, hadn’t closed his eyes since last night but dared not relax into sleep. He had just finished his night rounds and was lying down fully clothed when he heard the gatekeeper knock.
“Steward Li, a guest surnamed Shu has come to pay respects to the master. He appears to be from out of town; his boots are splashed with mud. He says he’s an old friend of the master. You instructed us to notify you about anyone surnamed Su.” The gatekeeper smiled ingratiatingly.
Steward Li knew Yang Jingyuan was keeping vigil tonight. He got up and put on his shoes, saying, “He’s in the side hall now? Well then, first show him to the outer court guest quarters. Say the inner court is locked, invite him to rest for the night, and tomorrow morning he can pay respects to the master. Arrange the upper room in Pine Court. Remember, ensure he’s well attended to. Find a clever servant to wait on him. You’re clever enough yourself; there’ll be a reward later.”
“I understand.” The gatekeeper, pleased with Steward Li’s praise, left happily.
Steward Li didn’t dare delay a moment and hurried to knock at the inner court.
The mourning hall was set up in White Egret Hall’s spacious courtyard. White mourning banners fluttered in the wind from all directions. The incense attendant had long since fallen asleep nearby. Yang Jingyuan knelt on the grass mat, trying to divert his thoughts from his foster mother’s suicide. As a martial artist, keeping vigil was similar to meditation with his master. In the night’s quiet, he faintly heard White Egret Hall’s courtyard gate open.
Who would be coming and going so late? Yang Jingyuan grew curious.
Just as he was about to rise and look, he heard someone say, “Third Young Master is keeping vigil in the mourning hall, don’t disturb him.”
What couldn’t disturb him? Yang Jingyuan had been sitting straight-backed, but his mind stirred, and he leaned against the offering table’s leg, relaxing his posture to appear asleep.
The footsteps were light, skirts rustling in the wind, with a faint powder fragrance—the scent of cheap powder worth ten copper coins per box. A serving maid.
She slowly approached the mourning hall, stopped, and peered inside. Seeing both Yang Jingyuan and the incense attendant asleep, she hurriedly turned and left.
The footsteps headed toward the inner hall.
Yang Jingyuan opened his eyes. Even if something was happening, why did this maid seem so intent on avoiding him? With his martial skills, following her to eavesdrop wouldn’t be difficult. Yang Jingyuan gazed sadly at his father’s memorial tablet on the offering table, thinking he didn’t want to eavesdrop. This was still his home.
“Father, tomorrow I’ll visit Master and examine Second Uncle’s wine to see what’s so mysterious about it. I’ll get to the bottom of this.” Once he went to Qingcheng, perhaps he wouldn’t need to know what matters required avoiding him.
At dawn, the rain fell harder than during the night, the drizzle turning into scattered showers.
White Egret Hall’s courtyard gate opened, and Yang Jingshan arrived with his wife and son.
He first entered the mourning hall to offer incense to his father, then concernedly said to Yang Jingyuan, “The spring cold is piercing; Third Brother, don’t catch a chill at night.”
Elder Sister-in-law Yang took a food box from her maid’s hands, apologetically saying, “Last night I forgot to instruct the kitchen to send Third Brother a midnight snack. This morning I had hot soup dumplings prepared. Third Brother, have a bowl first, then pay respects to Mother.”
“Thank you, Sister-in-law. I’m healthy, it’s no matter.” Yang Jingyuan turned to his elder brother and said, “There’s much to handle at home, requiring attention. Please tell Mother I’ve gone to see Master in Qingcheng.”
Yang Jingyuan knew this meant having Daoist Master Huayue examine the wine. With the funeral ongoing and the family headship not yet settled, if there was indeed something wrong with Second Uncle’s wine, it would be a major issue for the Yang family. He nodded, “I’ll tell Mother. Go early and return early.”
As he was leaving, Yang Jingyuan saw a middle-aged man dressed as a scholar being personally escorted by Steward Li.
“Third Young Master leaving so early?” Steward Li bowed to him, his smile somewhat stiff.
“And this is?” Someone coming to pay respects so early when the sky was barely light. Yang Jingyuan had just begun to speak when he realized this must be the guest about whom messages had been sent to the inner court at midnight.
“My humble surname is Su, I was a close friend of Master Yang. Upon hearing the terrible news, I came specially to offer incense to Master Yang.” Hearing the steward address the young man before him as Third Young Master, Shu Ye narrowed his eyes slightly, carefully examining Yang Jingyuan.
His small eyes were too bright, gleaming with a calculating light. Yang Jingyuan felt uncomfortable under his direct stare. Hearing he was surnamed Shu, he seemed to understand why the maid had needed to avoid him while delivering messages. He dared not think further, hastily cupped his hands in greeting, said a word of thanks, and left with the incense attendant without looking back.
How strange! Didn’t Young Master Yang know he had come for his sake? Shu Ye blinked his small eyes, immediately thinking of Concubine Liu’s suicide. Something wasn’t right—even if she had killed herself, she wouldn’t have forgotten to tell her son something so important.
“Master Shu, please follow me!”
Shu Ye nodded with a smile, following him into White Egret Hall.
The brothers Yang Jingshan and Yang Jingyan had already eaten breakfast and were waiting in the mourning hall.
Seeing the memorial tablet on the offering table, Shu Ye sighed deeply, stepped forward to offer incense, and after receiving the brothers’ courtesies, said, “Bring me mourning clothes. Master Yang once saved my life. It’s only right that I observe mourning for my benefactor.”
Both brothers repeatedly declined. Shu Ye grew tired of hearing it: “At least a white cloth band would be acceptable, wouldn’t it?”
Yang Jingshan hadn’t expected the seemingly refined Master Shu to be so impatient. He fetched a white cloth band, offering it with both hands: “We are deeply grateful for sir’s sentiment.”
Shu Ye deftly tied the white cloth around his waist: “This life of mine was saved by Master Yang. It’s only proper. I heard from Steward Li that Madam Yang wishes to see me. Lead the way.”
He efficiently cut off any further thanks Yang Jingshan might have offered.
Entering the main hall, Shu Ye’s eyes immediately fell on the Buddha’s hand-shaped jade pendant hanging at Madam Yang née Shi’s waist. Staring at the pendant, his emotions surged like galloping horses.
“Shu Ye of Santai pays respects to First Madam Yang.”
Madam Yang née Shi invited him to sit, thinking to herself that Master Shu indeed came from Santai in Eastern Jiannan Circuit, not from Yizhou Prefecture. To prevent her from knowing about the private property given to the Third Son, the master had entrusted it to an outsider.