Li Chi sat in his room staring at the sachet he had finished making days ago, mind wandering. Making it had been difficult enough to feel like it had killed off half his brain—not because he couldn’t learn, but because he kept feeling that what he’d made wasn’t good enough.
He had taken the sachet apart and redone it dozens of times since he’d started. The fragrance inside had been replaced several times over. The first version he’d made had a straightforward shape, and when he finished it he’d been quite satisfied—until, a quarter-hour later, he’d decided it was a little ugly, torn it apart, and started over. This process of taking apart and remaking had repeated dozens of times, and even now he wasn’t quite satisfied with how it looked.
Silly little young man, always convinced that whatever he made wasn’t good enough for that beautiful young woman.
He knew it himself—no matter how many more times he redid it, this was as good as it would get. The lengths of brocade he had used up on this sachet were enough to make a quilt cover.
He had also asked his master to write a protective talisman. His master was the person of highest cultivation he knew—he himself came second. He knew his own talismans were useless, and he knew his master’s were too, but he also knew that sincerity made them work.
Holding the sachet, the silly little young man had rehearsed countless approaches in his head—how to hand it to Gao Xining, what to say. But when the moment actually came, he found himself afraid. He didn’t know what he was afraid of—he’d gone into battle without flinching, yet he was frightened to give a small gift.
He sat there dithering for a long while. Finally Li Chi drew a long breath, rose to his feet, pumped his fists a few times to psych himself up, and tucked the sachet into his front. He told himself: at worst, he’d use the most embarrassing method—shove the sachet at Gao Xining and bolt.
But doing that would be truly mortifying. Even thinking about it was mortifying.
Gao Xining and the young woman Ruoling also lived in the rear courtyard, in rooms next to Liu Yingyuan’s family. She and Liu Yingyuan had known each other before, though not very well; now, with three girls of similar age in one place, the days felt a little less dreary. The three of them sat together chattering away, like three little birds perched on a wall singing.
Pretty and cheerful both.
Li Chi steeled himself and walked toward Gao Xining’s room. He had barely reached the door when she pulled it open and stepped out herself. When he saw her his gaze faltered; when she saw him her eyes lit up. Then, for some reason she couldn’t quite explain, a faint flush crept across her face. She clasped her hands behind her back and walked up to him—and Li Chi could feel his own face burning too.
He took a slow breath and told himself: you are a man, you fear nothing, show some poise. Don’t look awkward giving the gift—try to seem a little charming, a little witty.
Sound advice… but he couldn’t act on it.
He looked at Gao Xining and noticed that she was also taking slow, deliberate breaths. The two of them standing there like that made for an oddly funny sight.
Suddenly—it must have been Gao Xining who cracked first—she brought her hands from behind her back and held them out toward him. In her hands was a brand-new sachet. The needlework wasn’t the most elegant—the stitching was a touch uneven here and there—but Li Chi could see clearly how much care had gone into it.
Gao Xining’s face was red past any description. Her left hand reached out and pulled open the front of Li Chi’s robe; her right hand pushed the sachet inside.
“That—that’s for you.”
As she said it she turned to run. Li Chi grabbed her arm. “Wait.”
That exquisitely beautiful blushing face of hers—rosy as if she’d just sprinted round the courtyard fifty times, a fine mist of perspiration along her brow—she looked at him, but her gaze kept sliding sideways, and she quickly looked down and asked, voice barely a whisper: “What is it?”
A voice so small it was like a mosquito passing.
Li Chi wanted to say something charming and witty. Not a single word came to him. His mind was a swirling mess. In the end he went with the most embarrassing method—perhaps because she had just demonstrated it for him. He brought his hands from behind his back, and before he could think too hard about it, he reached out his left hand to pull open her collar, and pressed the sachet in with his right.
“I have one for you too.”
And there was Young Master Li, face crimson with the first blush of something new and tender. Purely smitten.
Gao Xining was stunned. She looked down at her own front, and a moment later—a flying kick.
—
A short while later, up on the rear courtyard wall, Li Chi sat grinning to himself. He pulled the sachet from his front and held it under his nose, inhaled, grinned again, tucked it back, and patted his chest gently. Two beats of silence—then he pulled it out again, smelled it again, grinned again, tucked it back, patted it. He had been repeating this sequence without pause for the past quarter-hour.
Inside the room, Gao Xining sat by the window with the sachet held in both hands, smiling down at it. She’d smile for a moment, then lift it in both hands and smell it, then press both hands around it and set it in her lap, then a breath later repeat the same.
One was inside the room; one was outside. Both of them had become like puppets—repeating their motions over and over.
In the courtyard, Zhuang Wudi sat on a stone bench with his head tilted, watching the figure up on the wall who had been grinning idiotically for well over a quarter-hour with no sign of stopping. Yu Jiuling sat beside him cracking sunflower seeds, glancing at Li Chi. He asked Zhuang Wudi: “Is that fellow an idiot?”
Zhuang Wudi nodded. “Yes.”
Yu Jiuling made a sound of acknowledgment and went on cracking seeds. After a while he asked again, “Can he be saved?”
Zhuang Wudi shook his head. “Doubtful.”
Yu Jiuling made another sound of acknowledgment and went on cracking seeds. Zhuang Wudi glanced at him, then reached into the bag and grabbed a handful of seeds for himself. The two of them sat there side by side, cracking seeds and tilting their heads to watch Li Chi.
Yu Jiuling asked, “Would you dare go up and take that thing out of his hand right now?”
Zhuang Wudi thought about it, then said, “Do I have a death wish?”
Yu Jiuling laughed until he was nearly doubled over. Zhuang Wudi turned and looked at him with an expression one reserves for the dim-witted, then asked, “You have one?”
Yu Jiuling stopped laughing.
—
The old man from the day before hadn’t come back yet, but early in the morning Ruan Chen had stopped by to say he’d been watching through the night. The old man had stayed in the Shuangxing House without leaving, and had only departed early that morning. Ruan Chen had come to report the news before going to rest, and Ruan Mu had taken over the watch.
Ruan Chen said that after the old man entered the Shuangxing House, he had paid for the company of one of its more celebrated young women, called Shuiyue—a recent arrival, not yet two months there, but already much beloved by patrons for her exceptional beauty and her cultivation in the four arts, as well as her considerable learning. What made Shuiyue notable was that she refused to sell herself; countless men had pressed their attentions on her, and she had never once relented.
The old man had paid one hundred taels of silver in exchange for two songs and two pots of wine. Shuiyue had spent approximately half an hour in his room before leaving. After that, not a single soul had entered that room again.
There was still no news from Ruan Mu about where the old man had gone after leaving that morning.
Tang Pidi climbed up out of the cellar. As he emerged he raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sudden light, and as he looked up he saw that figure perched on the wall—still apparently savoring some delightful thought, swaying gently, smiling to himself.
Tang Pidi dusted himself off and pointed at Li Chi. “How long has it been?”
Yu Jiuling said, “Two quarter-hours or so.”
Tang Pidi said, “Should we do away with him? I’m worried it might be contagious.”
Zhuang Wudi exhaled slowly and said, “Not likely to spread.”
Tang Pidi asked, “Why not?”
Zhuang Wudi said, “You don’t have one.”
Tang Pidi: “……”
Yu Jiuling doubled over laughing again. Zhuang Wudi turned and looked at him with that same look reserved for idiots, then asked evenly, “You do?”
Yu Jiuling stopped laughing.
—
Just then a shop hand came from the front to say that the old man from yesterday had returned. Yesterday, when he arrived, he had briefly introduced himself—his family name was Shi, given name Ci.
Yu Jiuling called up to Li Chi on the wall: “Shi Ci is here.”
Li Chi turned. “How did he come?”
Yu Jiuling thought to himself that he hadn’t asked that either. Tang Pidi said from nearby, “If he came alone and empty-handed, it means he didn’t bring any silver.”
Yu Jiuling looked at Tang Pidi with some amazement. “Why do you always understand what Li Chi means so quickly?”
Tang Pidi said, “If I said this was simple, would that make you feel a little dim?”
Yu Jiuling nodded. “It would.”
Tang Pidi: “This is simple.”
From the wall, Li Chi said, “Old Tang—you go. I’ll stay here. Ask for the price you mentioned yesterday. As long as he’s willing to pay, we’ll dare to accept.”
Tang Pidi acknowledged this and headed toward the front. Yu Jiuling, curious, called after him: “How much did you say yesterday?”
Tang Pidi replied, “Fifteen thousand.”
Yu Jiuling froze, eyes wide. “Have you gone mad? Who’s going to pay fifteen thousand taels for an escort job—unless they’re an absolute fool.”
Tang Pidi smiled, clasped his hands behind his back, and walked toward the front courtyard.
—
Reaching the main hall, Tang Pidi quickened his pace slightly and walked in with a cupped-fist salute. “My sincerest apologies—our proprietor just stepped out on a matter. Mister Shi, please take a seat for a moment; I’ve already sent someone to find him.”
Shi Ci rose and returned the bow. “No trouble at all; I’m happy to wait.”
Tang Pidi said, “Even though the proprietor isn’t here, I can convey the outcome of yesterday’s discussion—the brothers in the shop are all willing to make this journey. So I can give you his word directly; he left instructions before he went out.”
Shi Ci smiled. “That’s wonderful news; I can go back and report to my master straightaway.”
He produced a wooden box and opened it toward Tang Pidi. “Five thousand taels as a deposit. If you would be so kind as to write out a receipt.”
Tang Pidi said, “Our proprietor worked the numbers carefully yesterday. We can send out eighty skilled men—not counting the proprietor himself. The lives of eighty men for ten thousand taels is a little low.”
Shi Ci’s expression flickered. Eighty men, and ten thousand taels was low? One hundred taels per person was already eight thousand for eighty—for escort work at that rate, there’d be no shortage of takers from here to the city gates.
But he kept his smile and asked, “Then what would Li Gongzi consider a suitable sum?”
Tang Pidi held up two fingers and waved them. Yu Jiuling, who had a view of this from where he was lurking, felt the blood rush to his head; a wave of dizzy bewilderment washed over him.
Shi Ci’s face darkened. “Twenty thousand taels? Li Gongzi is certainly opening wide.”
Tang Pidi shook his head. “You’ve misunderstood. Not twenty thousand—two parts. Twenty percent of your master’s total estate. And to ensure the safety of the valuables under our protection, everything requiring an escort must be examined and counted—not a single copper coin unaccounted for. That is the rule of our business. We will assess your master’s estate, and take twenty percent as our fee.”
Shi Ci looked so exasperated he almost laughed. “Twenty percent? What nerve! I ask you—what if twenty percent of the total estate comes to less than ten thousand taels?”
Tang Pidi said, “In that case, we charge twenty thousand.”
Shi Ci: “?!?!”
—