Linglong was already puzzled as to why Lin Xiao had, for no apparent reason, ordered the carriage to stop — and a moment later, the curtain was lifted and up climbed a bright-eyed, fine-featured young Daoist.
The Tang dynasty was broad-minded in its social customs and far less stringent about propriety between men and women than dynasties past, yet even so, there was no custom permitting men and women to ride together in the same carriage.
Linglong’s expression cooled at once. The maidservant beside her was even more indignant, crying out: “What manner of Daoist is this, being so presumptuous — get down at once!”
Qin Yao was just about to laugh and offer an explanation when Lin Xiao spoke from outside the curtain: “There is no cause for alarm. She is a distant cousin of Jiang Sanlang’s. Wishing to come out and see the lanterns, she has dressed in Daoist attire. She is travelling alone and going the same way as we are — you may share the carriage.”
Linglong was taken aback. She studied the young Daoist intently and indeed saw that the person’s lips were red, teeth white, skin smooth as fine jade — not only undeniably female, but remarkably pretty at that.
Putting together what she had just seen with the way Lin Xiao had spoken up to shield this young woman, Linglong felt something sour and unsettled stir inside her. She held it down for a good while before coaxing a smile onto her face: “Of course, Cousin — Linglong understands.”
The carriage wheels began to turn again. Linglong rose and personally drew Qin Yao down to sit beside her, smiling warmly. “So you are a young lady from the Duke’s household — truly lovely. You have come out to see the lanterns all on your own? Are you not afraid of being snatched away by some scoundrel?” She laughed and introduced herself with cheerful ease: “I am Linglong — and you?”
“Just call me A’Yao,” Qin Yao said, settling herself beside Linglong. She took Linglong’s hand in her own and said, with genuine admiration, “Sister Linglong is the one who is truly lovely.” From the corner of her eye she glanced at Linglong’s snow-white wrist — good. The golden thread was several shades deeper than when she had seen it that morning. If Linglong was the second host, the Gu Poison within her was evidently on the verge of erupting.
Qin Yao withdrew her gaze and looked directly at Linglong. “From your accent, Sister, you are not from Chang’an?”
Linglong nodded. “I am from Youzhou. This is my first time in Chang’an. It is rare luck that the city is holding a lantern fair today, so I begged Cousin to bring me out to see it. Tell me — where does your household reside?”
“I am also staying at the Duke of Lu’s household, for the time being.” Qin Yao lifted the curtain and peered out, shifting the conversation as if by chance: “Sister Linglong, look — the streets are so lively!”
Lanterns of every colour and design had already been strung up on both sides of the road. The broad avenue was crowded with men and women come out to admire the lights. Vendors called out to draw in customers; the upper floors of wine houses were thick with shifting silhouettes; from the music quarters the sound of silk strings and wind instruments rose without cease, the scene a blaze of gilt and jade splendour on every side.
This was Chang’an — the most magnificent city under heaven. Linglong’s eyes burned with wonder as she murmured her admiration.
Qin Yao watched her quietly from the side and was just about to speak when the carriage stopped. Lin Xiao’s voice came from outside the curtain: “We have not yet reached the moat, but there is a famous Chang’an entertainment house nearby with a particularly fine repertoire of bianwen ballad-plays. Shall we alight here, enjoy some music, and continue on afterward?”
“Splendid!” Linglong responded with delight. She had the maidservant lift the curtain and took Qin Yao’s arm as she stood. “Come — let’s get out.”
Along the street stood a wine house called Taoran, its food and drink distinctive, its décor tastefully arranged. Best of all, its second floor directly faced the entertainment stage across the way, offering an unobstructed view — an ideal spot for listening to music.
Lin Xiao led Linglong and Qin Yao upstairs. He chose a quiet private room, and the party took their seats in turn.
Chang Rong, though Lin Xiao’s personal bodyguard, was mindful that both ladies present were from respectable households. To avoid any impropriety, he had another table set downstairs in the main hall with the other servants.
Lin Xiao glanced at Qin Yao and spoke: “Linglong and I had our evening meal before coming out. And you — have you eaten anything?”
It was only then that Qin Yao became aware of the emptiness in her stomach. She pressed a hand to her abdomen and gave a slightly abashed grin: “I haven’t eaten yet — and now that you mention it, I am rather hungry.”
Lin Xiao ordered the waiter to bring dishes, and conscious that Qin Yao was dressed as a Daoist and uncertain whether she observed any dietary restrictions, he thought it through and settled on several vegetarian dishes. The waiter was about to leave when Lin Xiao, remembering that cooking would take some time and not wanting her to suffer from hunger, called him back and added: “Please also bring some pastries first — quickly.”
Qin Yao privately admired Lin Xiao’s thoughtfulness. Linglong, however, had never seen this considerate side of him before. Whenever the two of them had crossed paths within the estate, he had been either taciturn or cold and distant — never had he been so pleasant and accommodating. A whole sea of feeling churned inside her, yet her smile only deepened: “I suppose Cousin must be a regular patron here to order so fluently. I wonder what else is good to eat and see nearby — later, Cousin really must take me and Sister A’Yao on a proper tour.”
So her name was A’Yao. Lin Xiao looked toward Qin Yao. He knew only that she was the daughter of the Astronomer-Royal Qu Enze, that she had been sickly from childhood and rarely appeared before family or acquaintances — little more than a ghost of a presence — and he had no way of learning her given name, let alone discovering why she had become a Daoist.
Linglong waited a long while for Lin Xiao to reply, and when nothing came, she felt her smile beginning to falter. Qin Yao caught it at once and spoke up to smooth things over: “Though I seldom go out, I do know that not far from here — in Yongchun Lane just around the corner — there is a shop that makes the finest fresh cherry topped with curdled milk. People queue in long lines for it every day. That shop is very close. Shall we go and try some later?”
Linglong brightened at once. “Oh! So you’re a Chang’an insider too — wonderful! Cousin refuses to give a straight answer, so let us leave him to himself. Later I’m only going to pester you — and you had better not brush me off the way he does.”
Lin Xiao raised his wine cup and took a sip, making no reply.
Linglong simply ignored him, taking Qin Yao’s arm and going to stand by the window to admire the lanterns in the night.
Across the street, the entertainment troupe had already set up a stage in the middle of the road. Behind the curtain, the shifting silhouettes of the performers could be dimly seen. The beat of the drum rose slowly — the show was about to begin.
The performer’s thin, piercing voice rang out, and the crowd erupted in a tumult of cheers and calls of approval. Tonight’s performance was the “Subjugation of Demons” — Shariputra appeared onstage wearing a fierce and grotesque mask, battling the void’s demons and monsters with tremendous grandeur. The singing was sharp and soaring, the melody shifting endlessly, carrying an eerie chill that turned the very air unsettling.
“Are you frightened?” Linglong whispered to Qin Yao.
Qin Yao smiled and shook her head.
“I have never been fond of these ballad-plays about demons. I remember as a little child, every time I watched one I would have nightmares.” Linglong clasped Qin Yao’s hand tightly.
Whether from nervousness or fear, Qin Yao was not certain, but she could feel Linglong’s long nails pressing against her wrist and it was becoming rather painful.
She quietly drew her hand away. Linglong gave a startled cry and seized her hand again, her face a picture of alarm as she looked out the window. “That Luohan’s costume is truly terrifying.”
Qin Yao’s expression shifted, cool and unreadable. Slowly, steadily, she removed Linglong’s hand from her wrist.
Linglong was taken aback. She turned to look at Qin Yao, and the alarm on her face gradually faded, replaced by a ripple of something unreadable in her gaze.
Qin Yao met her eyes in silence. After a moment, footsteps approached from behind. “Last time Jiang Sanlang was telling me you have always been timid — that you dare not watch stories of ghosts and monsters. How is it that today you are so bold?” Lin Xiao said, and as he spoke, he unobtrusively moved to place himself between Qin Yao and Linglong.
The depth in Linglong’s eyes intensified further. The corners of her mouth moved, almost imperceptibly, and she said with a smile: “I imagine Sister A’Yao is the same as I am — it is rare to come out, so there is no time to be frightened.” She glanced back and saw that the waiter had already brought up a series of small plates of pastries, and she made a sound of pleased approval: “What exquisite pastries — looking at them has made me hungry again. Sister A’Yao, come and eat.”
Qin Yao let out a quiet breath of relief, smiled, and walked to the table to sit down.
Just as they were eating, the waiter brought up a warm pot of crabapple wine and said with a smile: “This wine is called Haitang. It is brewed by the house proprietor himself — mild in nature and unlikely to go to the head; even young ladies may enjoy it. Would the two young ladies care to try a cup?”
Although Qin Yao was dressed as a Daoist, the waiter had seen all manner of people over his years of work — he had identified her as a woman from the moment she walked in.
Linglong clapped her hands in delight: “Your proprietor has a truly refined spirit! This wine has such a lovely fragrance — it suits my taste perfectly.” Without further preamble, she took hold of the pot and poured for Lin Xiao, then for Qin Yao, and finally filled her own cup. Raising it, she said warmly: “Cousin, Sister A’Yao — I came alone to Chang’an and have no doubt committed many social blunders. Were it not for Cousin looking after me at every turn, I should have made quite the fool of myself. And today, to meet Sister A’Yao and feel such an instant kinship — I am truly happy. Come, let me offer you both a toast first.”
Her smile was sincere, her words heartfelt. Qin Yao could find no reason to decline, and was in a dilemma when a slender, fair hand reached from beside her, took hold of the wine cup, and said: “A’Yao has been delicate since childhood and is not good with wine. Allow me to drink this cup in her place.”
Qin Yao turned to Lin Xiao in astonishment. Linglong’s face stiffened for a beat, and for a moment the room fell so silent one could have heard a pin drop.
Linglong’s expression shifted through several changes. After a good long while, she managed to open her mouth and force out a smile: “Cousin protects Sister A’Yao so — someone who didn’t know better might think she were your own blood cousin.” She paused, then added in a playfully aggrieved tone: “Cousin, you haven’t touched your own cup yet.”
Lin Xiao smiled faintly and was just raising his cup when — from outside the window — there came a whoosh, followed by a thunderous boom. It was as though a thousand shooting stars had streaked across the night sky at once, instantly transforming into cascading brilliance of seven colours, illusory and magnificent beyond all description.
“Fireworks—!” Qin Yao gasped in wonder, pulling Linglong to the window. The dark sky was lit up by the fireworks bright as broad daylight. The crowds around the stage below tilted their heads back in dazzled admiration. Only the performers playing the roles of spirits and ghosts on the stage remained undisturbed, singing on in their delicate, lilting voices.