After watching the dance performance, colorful lanterns hung high in the Yun Family’s courtyard. Seeing that everyone had eaten their fill, the chef retrieved bowls of soup as clear as water from enormous steamer baskets, having servants deliver them to each guest. The soup bowls were all white porcelain, and through the soup one could see the peony flower painted at the bottom of the bowl. An equally exquisite soup spoon rested on a small plate, displaying magnificent splendor.
Before drinking the soup, servants required guests to rinse their mouths. In other settings this would be extremely rude, but at the Yun household no one found it strange—there were many dining rules at the Yun Family. After the guests rinsed their mouths with clean water, each person had before them a delicate set of small peony bowls and spoons. The soup was very hot, yet no steam rose from it, because the surface seemed to float with a layer of crystalline oil droplets that prevented the water vapor from escaping.
After the Yun Family’s servants set down the soup bowls, they made a gesture inviting the guests to partake, then departed. The guests looked at each other, none daring to move first, worried about making a mistake and embarrassing themselves later.
Li Tai was accustomed to drinking this soup. Seeing his elder brother Li Chengqian somewhat hesitant, he walked over to his brother, dipped the spoon into the bowl, and gently stirred. With each stir of the spoon, a wisp of white steam would emerge. While stirring, he said to Li Chengqian: “Elder Brother, this is truffle soup. The top layer is cream—I don’t know how the Yun Family made it transparent. Last time I ate it, there were chicken strips and other mushrooms inside, but now they’re all gone. I guess they were removed. Drink it slowly, it’s extremely hot.”
Li Chengqian smiled and took the soup bowl, stirring it slowly himself. With each stir, a rich fragrance wafted out. Before even tasting it, he already felt this soup was a delicacy of the mortal realm.
Gao Yang tasted a mouthful of soup and could hardly bear to swallow it. She wanted to speak but saw Xiangcheng glance at her, so she continued lowering her head to drink her soup. After three mouthfuls she really couldn’t resist speaking anymore, so she turned her head toward Yun Ya beside her. She suddenly discovered a difference—Yun Ya’s soup bowl was particularly large, a full four or five times bigger than her own bowl, and she was stirring it messily without any grace, even breaking apart a large piece of flatbread and soaking it in the soup.
Gao Yang was extremely angry. Such delicious soup and Yun Ya was actually using it to soak flatbread—how unfair! She had just been about to open her mouth to ask for several bowls to take home for her parents-in-law, elder brother, and sister-in-law to taste.
Yun Ya glanced at the fuming Gao Yang and said: “Upset? This is my home, I’ve always drunk truffle soup this way. Even my elder brother hasn’t criticized me—who do you think you are?”
Xinyue indulgently patted Yun Ya’s head and said gently to Gao Yang: “Don’t mind her, she’s been spoiled by her brother. The way she drinks soup isn’t proper. If you like this soup, I’ll have the kitchen steam several more bowls for you.”
Seeing that even Xinyue said this, Gao Yang couldn’t very well quibble over Yun Ya’s rudeness. She picked up her soup bowl again and drank slowly, secretly vowing in her heart that in the future the Fang Family must be even more refined than the Yun Family, inviting everyone except Yun Ya.
Cheng Chumo’s stomach must have been forged from who-knows-what. After stirring the soup a few times, with a gulp he swallowed it all down. Li Zhi, sitting beside him, watched with eyes gone wide—he had just drunk too hastily himself and his lips were burning from the heat.
Only after Cheng Chumo had swallowed all his soup did he grab hold of the chef and say: “The taste is good. Prepare another pot for me to take when I leave.” He acted as if he were in his own home at the Yun household. The chef quickly agreed. With someone taking the lead, naturally others followed suit continuously. Except for Xue Wanche, almost everyone made similar requests.
Having eaten the delicious food, drunk the flavorful soup, and appreciated the Hu dancer’s performance, Zhangsun Chong stroked his short beard, feeling his poetic nature greatly aroused. Gazing at the moon in the sky, he prepared to compose a poem.
The poem never got recited, because a wine jar came flying over. He caught it with one hand, pulled out the stopper, took a vigorous gulp, shouted out “Good wine!” and then rushed into the crowd to find the bastard who had thrown the wine jar at him.
Everyone had been pretending to be noble personages for quite a while, but after three rounds of wine they could no longer keep up the act. Thus the fine banquet transformed into a brawling ground and drinking contest venue, with Xue Wanche, Cheng Chumo, and Zhangsun Chong being the most heroic among them. Li Pengcheng blinked his eyes desperately—only heaven knew why his eye socket had received a heavy punch. Li Chengqian held Li Zhi’s hand as they strolled leisurely through the chaotic brawling ground, from time to time dodging flying debris. Li Tai hugged a tree while his two legs were being pulled straight by others…
Yun Ye only remembered the opening of the banquet but didn’t know when the banquet ended. When he woke up the next day, he felt his forehead hurt terribly. He had Xinyue bring over a mirror so he could look at himself. Not bad—he looked a bit like a one-horned demon king. These bastards hadn’t grown up at all. What they were like ten years ago was seemingly no different from now, ten years later.
“Those damned souls! We entertained them with good food and drink, and they still threw wine jugs at you. You have a weak constitution—from now on, associate less with these killers.” Every time Xinyue looked at the horn on Yun Ye’s forehead, she wiped away tears.
“Hehe, you haven’t seen His Majesty entertain guests. As long as it’s not a formal banquet, there have even been people fighting with weapons. Our household’s situation is nothing. By the way, have all the guests left?”
“They’ve left. Some grabbed things, some took things—we’re missing three sets of peony bowls, and so many were broken. What kind of people are these? Some even tried to seize the Hu dancers. If Liu Jinbao hadn’t sent the Hu dancers to the back courtyard early on, who knows what would have happened.”
“It’s all temperament indulged from childhood. When they drink too much wine and their nature flares up, they become reckless. I heard that in the first few years after His Majesty ascended the throne, after banquets, even palace maids would go missing. Liu Hongji’s household has several.”
“Who would dare do that now? They’re only bullying you because you’re soft-natured.” Xinyue was still very dissatisfied.
“Now? Even if you gave them eighty doses of courage they wouldn’t dare. When I enter the imperial palace I’m trembling with trepidation. Besides a few elders, whenever I see other consorts I make wide detours early on, or I lower my head and wait by the roadside for them to pass. His Majesty doesn’t know what madness has seized him—the newly received consorts are all young girls, only fifteen or sixteen years old, even younger than Gao Yang and the others. Among them is a little girl called Xu Hui, thin and small. His Majesty actually dotes on her tremendously. Based on a single poem: ‘This morning I came to the mirror stand, after applying makeup I briefly lingered. A thousand gold pieces for a single smile, how could one summoning bring me?’ With such a crooked poem she was able to advance from Talented Lady to Zhongyi. To avoid any appearance of impropriety, I won’t go to the rear palace anymore.”
While Yun Ye and Xinyue were discussing the Emperor and Xu Hui, Li Er was discussing Yun Ye with Zhangsun. A delicate young girl attended them at the side, grinding ink. Li Er very much wanted to paint the withered lotus on the pond.
“How long has it been since Yun Ye entered the palace? Since participating in the Grand Emperor’s ceremony, I haven’t seen him. Has he entered the palace to visit you?” Li Er picked up his brush preparing to put it to paper, then suddenly stopped and asked Zhangsun.
“No. I also saw him for the last time at Zhaoyang Palace. I hear that now he spends all day idling about. Last night he even held a grand banquet for guests at home, spending every day drinking and dreaming as if he wants to soak himself in wine and drown!” Whenever Zhangsun spoke of Yun Ye, her resentment ran deep. As she slowly grew older, she wanted her children and younger generation gathered around her. Who would have thought—the Crown Prince was busy all day, Qing Que hid underground and couldn’t be seen, Li Zhi attended school at the academy. Only Yun Ye had some leisure time, yet he still hid and wouldn’t come.
“Hehe, I don’t think so. Clever people are clever people no matter what time it is. I think there’s great hidden meaning in his banquet last night. The Yun Family has deposited all their money into the money house—hmph—a full forty-some ten-thousands of silver coins. Hear clearly—silver coins, not copper coins. His household’s copper coins have probably all been exchanged for silver coins. He’s just waiting for when I begin minting copper coins on a large scale so he can make a huge profit. He even brought along the Cheng Family, Niu Family, Qin Family, and Yuchi Family—they’re all doing the same thing. That stinking brat is waiting for me to earn him silver coins. He must be very curious now about who gave me this advice. Well then, let me see whether you the teacher are more formidable, or your student is more formidable. Using the student’s spear to attack the student’s shield—this suits my intention perfectly.”
Having finished speaking triumphantly, Li Er sketched a stroke on the white silk. After this stroke was complete, Xu Hui, seeing that Li Er had no intention of continuing to paint, used cotton to absorb the excess ink. Li Er set down his brush and said to Xu Hui: “You complete the rest.” After Xu Hui curtsied, she began painting this withered lotus picture. Ink wash painting was first derived by Lishi from Yun Ye’s ink wash turtle drawing, and now was already beloved by the vast majority of literati and scholars.
Li Er most loved light ink. Light ink is the main component of ink wash charm. Too little water makes the painting dry; too much water makes it sodden. One must ensure light ink is moist but not sodden, while simultaneously connecting and coordinating with blank space, white paper, and dark ink to create a harmonious whole of black, white, and gray. Sometimes using light ink alone to create an atmosphere of rain, fog, ice, or snow can bring out its special strengths even more—wonderfully indescribable.
Painting on raw silk demands that once the brush falls it’s set—once painted incorrectly there’s no way to change it. Li Er had just thought of Yun Ye and couldn’t help but feel somewhat agitated, so he couldn’t continue painting. Zhangsun brought over Li Er’s teapot, placed it in his hands, and said: “Yun Ye wants to be lazy. He’s now a wooden person—you poke him once and he moves once; if you don’t poke him, he doesn’t move. If you’re still thinking of making him proactively do things on his own, I’m afraid it will be very difficult. The changes in the imperial court these past few years have made him vigilant. I even believe he’s afraid.”
“What does he fear? What’s there to fear about doing one’s work properly? Ministers like him who are clever and understand human relations and worldly wisdom are the kind of ministers I most favor. Sufficient for governing the realm, yet lacking the capability to rebel—I wish all my ministers under me looked like this. Not even considering his meritorious service, just considering the affection of these years, as long as he doesn’t commit the kind of error Hou Junji did, I will forgive him. In fact, in my heart, he and Chengqian and Qing Que occupy the same position in my heart.”
Hearing the Emperor say this, Xu Hui paused in shock, and the ink on the brush tip blackened a patch of the withered lotus’s roots. She picked up a small brush and hastily sketched a few strokes, transforming that ink blot into a Taihu stone.
“He’s just a timid person. From childhood he was doted on by his immortal-like master. When he came to the Great Tang, he was doted on by Cheng Yaojin, Niu Jinda, Qin Qiong, and Yuchi Gong. Later he was doted on by me. Finally, the one doting on him became you. Ten-some years of smooth sailing without suffering any losses—doing everything according to his temperament. Now that he has children, naturally he doesn’t dare act recklessly anymore. Worried about making errors in conduct or step, he’s trembling with trepidation. Actually, I also most love this aspect of him—not becoming arrogant because of favor. It’s very rare.”