In the afternoons, Zhao Ai would drink tea in the Qinghua Pavilion, usually served by Feng Xian. This day, when Feng Xian brought in the tea service, Zhao Ai glanced at it and asked: “Not preparing tea ceremony today, but brewing tea instead?”
“Yes.” Feng Xian smiled while setting up the tea stove and pot. “Xuanyi Lang brought some fine tea from Wuyi Mountain as tribute to His Majesty. His Majesty found it excellent and distributed portions to the princes. This was personally delivered by Zhenzhen before she left the capital, and she carefully taught me how to control the brewing temperature.”
Zhao Ai was greatly surprised: “Zhenzhen left the capital? Where did she go?”
“She didn’t tell the prince?” Feng Xian looked at Zhao Ai with wide eyes, then explained: “Xuanyi Lang resigned his position to return to his hometown. His Majesty sent Zhenzhen to find him and bring him back by all means necessary.”
Zhao Ai slammed the book in his hand onto the desk with a “snap,” frowning as he pressed: “Why did His Majesty send her to find him? For a female official to leave the capital to seek out a man from the outside world—what propriety is this!”
Feng Xian stopped stirring the tea, faced Zhao Ai directly, and answered seriously: “It was quite by chance. Xuanyi Lang Lin Hong, also known as Master Wenqiao, was the teacher who instructed Zhenzhen in culinary arts before she entered the palace.”
Feng Xian then recounted the connection between Zhenzhen and Lin Hong, adding: “Though the master and student only spent a few months together at the Wenqiao Inn, in terms of their bond as kindred spirits, it may not be inferior to classmates who have been together day and night for over ten years. Everyone says Xuanyi Lang has a detached temperament, but talented scholars can be unpredictable. His Majesty probably thought that since he dared to ignore even imperial edicts, perhaps only Zhenzhen’s words could reach him.”
That phrase “spent a few months together at the Wenqiao Inn” cut through Zhao Ai’s heart like a blade. Previously, when he saw Zhenzhen and Lin Hong together in the Jinyan Gallery, he had guessed they had privately gone to the locust blossom grove. However, he thought they were meeting for the first time, and though Zhenzhen was lively, she wasn’t foolish about important matters and wouldn’t easily be seduced by a man. So though he was quite displeased, he didn’t think much of it. But now learning they actually had a teacher-student relationship and had been together day and night at the Wenqiao Inn, that trip to the locust blossom grove was probably not just a simple reunion.
The more he thought about it, the more furious he became. Not daring to imagine how they might behave outside the palace, he finally couldn’t restrain himself and slammed the table, rising to head for the main gate.
“Prince!” Feng Xian quickly stood and followed, calling behind him: “Are you thinking of finding another excuse to go to the Cifu Palace and ask the Empress Dowager to permit you to leave the capital?”
This was indeed Zhao Ai’s usual method. Imperial clan members couldn’t leave the capital without the Emperor’s permission. Zhao Ai, relying on the Empress Dowager’s indulgence, often made excuses about finding objects or people for her, asking her to request His Majesty’s permission for him to go out. Having experienced many restrictions as a prince himself, the Emperor deeply understood the suffering of an unfree existence, so he often turned a blind eye and wasn’t strict about controlling Zhao Ai’s movements, allowing Zhao Ai to usually get his way. This time he wanted to use the same strategy, but being exposed by Feng Xian in one phrase, his steps faltered.
Feng Xian walked before him, bowed respectfully, and said gently: “Prince, I dare to ask you to hear me out: The prince His Majesty hopes to see is a wise, studious talent who can stabilize the nation through literature and drive out barbarians through martial prowess—not a dissolute young master indulging in romantic affairs. Though the prince may have excuses for leaving the capital now, His Majesty has observed the prince’s usual concern for Zhenzhen. How could he not know the prince’s true purpose? If the prince insists on going to find Zhenzhen, it will greatly damage the prince’s image in his father and sovereign’s eyes.”
“What if he sees me as a dissolute young master?” Zhao Ai scoffed. “I’m not the Crown Prince—I don’t need to bear the heavy responsibility of stabilizing the nation. The duty of imperial clan members is to be wealthy idle people. This is stipulated by the dynasty’s family laws. Why can’t I act according to my heart’s desire?”
Feng Xian gazed directly at him, her eyes exceptionally calm and determined, different from her usual downcast and submissive expression before Zhao Ai: “Forgive my directness: Though the imperial succession is established now, there may not be no variables in the future. The Eastern Palace has never been in good health. Should there be any incident in the future, the prince would be next in line for succession. The prince should encourage himself now, sharpening both literary and martial strategies, character and virtue, lest he be unprepared when opportunity comes.”
“Feng Xian, do you know what you’re saying?” Zhao Ai was greatly shocked, meeting those earnest eyes fixed on him, his voice dropping two degrees. “If these words got out, the crime would be tantamount to treason.”
Feng Xian immediately knelt, softly asking for forgiveness, then raised her head and earnestly urged Zhao Ai: “Feng Xian acknowledges her guilt, but these words come from the heart—truths everyone understands but won’t speak to the prince. Feng Xian risks death to say this, only hoping the prince will think thrice, weigh benefits and harm, consider the greater good, and not rashly leave the capital.”
Zhao Ai remained silent. Feng Xian observed his expression, slowly stood up, and reached for his wrist to lead him back, saying gently: “Prince, I heard that His Majesty will go to the training ground for archery and martial practice later today. The prince might change into military attire now and go to the training ground before His Majesty arrives…”
Zhao Ai coldly brushed away her extended hand.
“You think too much,” he said, striding toward the door. “Girls who are too calculating are not lovable.”
Lin Hong’s garden in Suzhou was named “Shiyi,” located beside the Canglang Pavilion south of the city. When Zhenzhen’s party arrived, they happened to see A’Che opening the door. Seeing Zhenzhen, he was also overjoyed, coming forward for a long exchange of greetings. After asking about Zhenzhen’s recent situation for quite a while, he slapped his head: “Oh my, how foolish of me—you must be here to find the young master… Come in, come in quickly!”
Entering the garden, they saw a mirror-like pond with azure waters. The shores weren’t abundant with flowers, but bamboo groves formed forests. Sunlight filtered through the bamboo, casting shadows over the layered artificial mountains of lake stones, converging between the pavilions and windows. The garden was quite tranquil, with occasional gentle breezes and intermittent bird songs creating melodious harmonies.
Lin Hong, dressed in white robes and wearing a bamboo hat, sat fishing on a rock by the pond. Seeing Zhenzhen, he wasn’t particularly surprised and asked her to sit nearby and observe. Zhenzhen took the opportunity to speak of the Empress Dowager’s and His Majesty’s expectations of him, and the wealth and honor promised. Lin Hong remained silent throughout. After catching a fish, he looked at it and released it back into the water before saying to Zhenzhen: “No need to persuade me further—I won’t return to the capital.”
He led her to climb the peak of the artificial mountain made of lake stones, gesturing toward the Canglang Pavilion across the way: “Years ago, Su Shunqin couldn’t bear the court’s factional strife. After being found guilty and demoted to Suzhou, he built the Canglang Pavilion, drinking and singing boldly, enjoying the company of fish and birds. He sighed: ‘Looking back at that tumultuous arena of fame and disgrace, daily grinding against trivial gains and losses, separated from this true joy—how vulgar it was!’ He was bold and broad-minded with great ambitions, yet still couldn’t find his place in that arena of honor and disgrace. How much less could someone like me, with a naturally carefree disposition? Though I haven’t held office these years, I’ve repeatedly built gardens for the powerful and wealthy. I’ve heard and witnessed much of the court’s various aspects. Official life drowns people—it’s better to be content with tranquil openness. I don’t want to understand this truth only after sinking and floating in the official sea for years, then return here to write a ‘Record of Shiyi Garden’ in lamentation.”
“What does ‘Shiyi’ mean?” Zhenzhen asked.
Lin Hong replied: “The Dao gives birth to one, one gives birth to two, two gives birth to three, three gives birth to all things. Returning to this place is like recovering that ‘one’—simplifying complexity, cleansing distracting thoughts, maintaining one’s original heart, not being bound by external things.”
Zhenzhen didn’t quite understand these words. As she hesitated, still wondering whether Consort Liu’s awkward situation was among the “external things” he didn’t wish to be bound by, he stopped her from speaking and smiled: “You’ve traveled far and must be very tired. Rest in the garden for now. Tonight I’ll host a banquet to welcome you. If you’re interested, I’ll take you on a night tour of Suzhou to fulfill half a host’s duties.”
At dinner, Lin Hong had A’Che bring out fine wine for the guests. The two eunuchs escorting Zhenzhen were Shi Huai’en, a eunuch director in his forties, and Mo Sijin, a young eunuch in his twenties. Shi Huai’en was mature and steady, carefully caring for Zhenzhen throughout the journey while also monitoring and constraining her behavior. Mo Sijin was young with a much livelier disposition, full of curiosity about the outside world, seeking opportunities to sightsee along the way with even higher spirits than Zhenzhen. Shi Huai’en had no other hobbies except a love of fine wine. Seeing Lin Hong’s excellent liquor and with Zhenzhen and Mo Sijin urging him to drink, he inevitably indulged. After hearty drinking, he became so intoxicated he lost consciousness and had to be helped to a guest room by A’Che to rest. Mo Sijin was delighted to see this, made an excuse about shopping, and happily went out to wander, leaving Zhenzhen and Lin Hong to smile helplessly. They had thought they’d inevitably have to bring the two along for their outing, but now it seemed they’d been abandoned by those two instead.
Compared to Lin’an, Suzhou also had painted boats with music, golden towers and pavilions, but the city had many small bridges and flowing waters, with winding waterside paths that were graceful and secluded, creating beautiful scenery. At night, the lights were brilliant, with wine shops lining the riverbanks, heavy traffic before their doors, and visitors like woven fabric. Among them was a wine house with a broad storefront reaching three stories high, quite luxurious. Zhenzhen stopped to look up at it. Lin Hong, thinking she was interested, invited her to enter. But seeing the establishment’s curtains fluttering, flowers and bamboo reflecting outside the hanging windows, and hearing the sounds of courtesans’ music and voices, Zhenzhen worried there might be prostitutes serving wine inside. She quickly pulled Lin Hong away and chose a small wine shop instead.
This small wine shop was a single-story building with three rooms, arranged openly facing the riverbank. The hall contained over ten tables, with a few elegant alcoves partitioned by screens on both sides. When they entered, the shopkeeper said the alcoves were full, so Zhenzhen chose a spot in the hall with a river view and ordered some tea, fruits, and pastries.
It was the season when river crabs were at their fattest. A neighboring table had a large plate of them, each steamed bright red with orange showing through their navels, quite tempting. This caught Zhenzhen’s attention, causing her to glance over several times. Lin Hong noticed and called a server to order two for her.
Lin Hong didn’t touch his chopsticks to any of the food, fruits, or crabs, only smiled and encouraged Zhenzhen to taste them. Zhenzhen then remembered that Lin Hong was fastidious about cleanliness and certainly wouldn’t eat in wine shops. He had come in purely to accompany her, which warmed her heart. But feeling embarrassed to eat alone, she only took some small pastries with her chopsticks under Lin Hong’s encouragement, sitting upright and carefully chewing with a ladylike demeanor, afraid he might see any ungraceful eating habits. Therefore, she dared not touch the crabs, which were quite troublesome to eat.
This small wine shop inevitably had common market people. Not far away, a man in his thirties was holding forth: “I can tell what kind of relationship people have just from the food they order and how they eat it. Look at that couple…” He pointed to a middle-aged man and woman at a table by the door. “That woman eats crabs by tearing them apart with her hands, crunching the claws with her teeth, while the man across from her doesn’t even look, just buries his head in eating noodles—definitely an old married couple.”
Then he pointed to another pair in their twenties, commenting: “Look at the food on their table—everything looks good but is expensive and not filling. This shows they’ve just met, probably on a matchmaking meeting.”
His companion nodded continuously in agreement. Growing more pleased with himself, he surveyed the surroundings and this time looked toward Zhenzhen and Lin Hong. After sizing them up, he laughed: “This pair—the man ordered crabs, but the young lady is too embarrassed to gnaw on them in front of him. They’ve probably been exchanging flirtatious glances for a while but haven’t hooked up yet.”
Zhenzhen’s face immediately burned with embarrassment and anger. Just as she was about to speak in rebuke, Lin Hong gently shook his head and said quietly: “Why stoop to his level?”
Lin Hong then picked up a river crab and took a pair of clean, pointed silver chopsticks. With practiced ease, he lifted the crab shell and used the silver chopsticks to pierce, pick, poke, and extract. Soon he had removed all the crab meat and placed it on a plate. This series of movements flowed like clouds and water, his expression remaining calm and composed throughout. Finally, he unhurriedly pushed the crab meat before Zhenzhen.
“You may eat now,” he smiled and said to her.