She was both tired and weary, unable to remember whether she had fainted from fright or drowsily fallen asleep from exhaustion. When she awoke with a start, daylight was already bright.

Wei Xun and Shisan Lang were gathered under the corridor whispering quietly, the donkey was wandering freely in the courtyard, and everything looked normal, as if last night’s strange sounds were just a weird dream.

Shisan Lang was complaining: “Do this first – how can I cut pears after the dagger smells of fish?”

Wei Xun replied impatiently: “Just gnaw on them raw then, why eat pear slices?”

Shisan Lang complained again: “I’m just relying on senior brother’s sharp blade. You’re so enthusiastic preparing fish for Jiu Niang, but you find it bothersome when I want to eat something vegetarian.”

Bao Zhu drowsily spaced out for a moment, then looked down to count the remaining arrows in her quiver. Finding there were indeed six fewer, she bent down to pick up a broken tile from the corner and hurled it hard at Wei Xun’s back.

Without turning his head, he reached back and caught the tile piece swiftly and deftly, casually tossing it into the courtyard.

“Jiu Niang is awake.”

Shisan Lang called out: “There’s fish sashimi for breakfast, come quickly!”

Bao Zhu smoothed her hair, brushed off the straw clinging to her body, and walked listlessly out of the main hall to the surrounding corridor, where Wei Xun sat upright, concentrating on slicing fish.

She couldn’t clearly see his technique, but saw snow-white fish slices flying out from under his hands one by one, crystal clear and translucent, thinner than paper, even able to flutter in the wind.

“Were you sleeping like the dead last night? With such a commotion, you didn’t make a sound. Were you too scared to move, or were you deliberately frightening me?” She was still seething with anger.

Wei Xun finished preparing half the fish, wiped his hands, and pulled out a wooden board from under the corridor. Three feathered arrows were clearly embedded in it.

“I was on the beam. I didn’t intend to frighten you, just curious about who was playing tricks.”

Bao Zhu was greatly shocked. Recalling all the details from yesterday, she was terrified beyond measure and asked tremblingly: “You were on the beam, then who was sleeping in the coffin?!”

“Jiu Niang can go verify for herself.”

Without him saying so, Bao Zhu ran back to the main hall and carefully examined the east side. She saw money saddlebags coiled in the coffin, wrapped in one of Wei Xun’s blue robes. The room was spacious, and the candlelight couldn’t reach the other end, making things appear indistinct and unclear. Since Bao Zhu thought the coffin was unlucky and wouldn’t approach to examine it closely, she couldn’t see through this simple deception.

When had he used the saddlebags to impersonate himself, and how had he silently climbed onto the beam over two zhang high?

Unable to figure this out, Bao Zhu angrily demanded: “What were you doing crouched on the beam?!”

“Standing high to see far, I could overlook the courtyard and indoor activities. As soon as the other party moved slightly, I could startle them. Who knew you’d be so brave and fierce, completely eliminating the need for Wei to intervene.”

He pointed at the wooden board and praised: “Good thing I blocked it, otherwise being pierced with three holes wouldn’t feel pleasant.”

Bao Zhu turned to confront Shisan Lang, shouting: “He was on the beam, so you were the one playing ghost in the courtyard?”

Shisan Lang waved his hands frantically, quickly disclaiming: “I only returned early this morning, it has nothing to do with me!”

Bao Zhu asked strangely: “Then who was it? Was it really haunted?”

Wei Xun didn’t answer, pointing at the fish sashimi and saying: “No rush, eat while it’s fresh.”

Bao Zhu paused her interrogation and sat down with a belly full of questions, as she was indeed extremely hungry.

Fresh fish cut into thin slices and eaten raw was called ‘kuai’. At banquets, this dish was unremarkable, merely a cold dish to fill numbers, but at this moment it rivaled delicacies. Though there were no dipping sauces like orange juice or plum sauce, Wei Xun had plucked some wild grass of unknown name and crushed it as seasoning to cut the grease and remove the fishy smell. It was truly smooth, fresh, and tender, with a mouth full of sweetness.

While eating, she asked: “Did you go buy fish early this morning?”

Shisan Lang answered first: “After I returned, senior brother went to catch them fresh from the river. In this hot weather, fish sashimi must be freshly caught, otherwise it’s easy to get stomach problems.”

Wei Xun suddenly remembered something and joked: “Don’t blame me for not warning you – this is imperial surname fish.”

Bao Zhu was eating happily and no longer cared about this, quickly saying: “Haven’t you heard the story of Censor Lou eating fish?”

It turned out that when Empress Wu was ruling, due to her Buddhist beliefs she issued a “prohibition on slaughter,” forbidding people from eating meat. When Lou Shide went to Guanzhong on official business, a servant served mutton during a meal. Lou Shide asked: “The emperor strictly prohibits slaughter, how can there be mutton?” The servant said: “This sheep was killed by a jackal.” Lou Shide praised: “This jackal is so considerate.” So he ate the mutton. The servant then brought a plate of fish sashimi. Lou Shide asked again, and the servant said: “This fish was also killed by a jackal.” Lou Shide scolded: “You fool, how can a jackal kill fish? You should have said it was killed by an otter.”

This story was widely circulated, a well-known joke about policies above and countermeasures below. Bao Zhu deliberately told it and added: “If anyone asks, today’s fish was caught by a lynx. What a considerate lynx!” (Lynx, an alternative name for cat)

As soon as these words left her mouth, Wei Xun stiffened, and Shisan Lang immediately burst into laughter, laughing so hard he fell backward uncontrollably, rolling from the corridor down to the ground below.

Bao Zhu was somewhat puzzled: “The story is funny, but not that exaggerated, right?” Looking at Wei Xun, he had turned his head away, rarely showing a trace of embarrassment.

After Shisan Lang laughed enough, wiped the tears from his face, and crawled back up using both hands and feet, he explained: “It’s not Censor Lou that’s funny, it’s Jiu Niang’s words that are funny. My senior brother’s childhood name is ‘Linu’ (lynx), doesn’t this really fit ‘fish caught by a lynx’?”

Hearing this, Bao Zhu was greatly embarrassed. Realizing she had unknowingly called him by his pet name to his face, she blushed with shame and lowered her head bashfully. She secretly thought that with his light, swift steps and silent movement around beams, no wonder he had such a nickname.

Once, Tubo had sent a litter of lynx as tribute, and she received one. That animal looked like a cat with tufts of black hair on the tips of its pointed ears, majestic and alert, yet fluffy and very well-behaved. When hunting, she would spread a blanket on the horse’s rump for it to sit on and follow her, pouncing on prey more fiercely than hunting dogs. She was extremely fond of it, traveling together and sleeping together, affectionately calling it ‘Linu’. What a coincidence!

The atmosphere was awkward, and neither felt comfortable speaking first. After eating silently for a while, Bao Zhu saw his fish-slicing technique was like flowing clouds and water, very pleasing to watch. Wanting to change the subject, she asked: “What’s the name of your dagger?”

Wei Xun kept his head down slicing fish, saying quietly: “It’s just called a dagger.”

“It looks like an ancient artifact.”

Shisan Lang boasted: “It is indeed an antique. Master found it in an ancient tomb from the Spring and Autumn or Warring States period and gave it to senior brother, who has the highest martial arts.”

Bao Zhu said in surprise: “The blade has golden script inscriptions. If it’s an ancient artifact, it must be a weapon with quite a history. Using it as a dining knife is like using a cannon to kill a mosquito.”

Wei Xun said lightly: “I don’t recognize ancient characters, and master never explained. Since he naturally gave it to me, I use it as an ordinary dagger.”

Bao Zhu sighed: “If it were a long sword, it would definitely be a treasure that nobles would compete for, but unfortunately it’s just a dagger.”

Wei Xun said: “When unearthed, it was just a short sword rusted into an iron rod. Master said its length was insufficient to serve as a ceremonial sword, yet too short to be hidden in clothing as a concealed weapon – neither refined nor martial, completely useless, so he ground off three inches.”

Hearing this, Bao Zhu felt quite regretful. She also thought this bandit leader’s temperament was so narrow and extreme – obtaining treasures but not cherishing them, casually destroying and damaging them, which was somewhat similar to someone in her impression.

“I think this character is probably ‘fish’, could this dagger be…”

Wei Xun smiled and interrupted her speculation: “Then using it to slice fish is just right, isn’t it?”

Author’s Note:

Freshwater fish should absolutely never be eaten raw!!!

Lou Shide’s witty Q&A story comes from “Taiping Guangji”

At that time, mainstream society still believed “gentlemen should stay away from the kitchen,” and only slicing raw fish was something they enjoyed displaying publicly, seemingly with some show-off, peacocking meaning (of course, Wei never belonged to mainstream society)