Jiang Yubai had thought Lin Zhixia would walk with him along the central axis, but Lin Zhixia led him to the left side. She introduced: “Look over there… that’s Wuying Hall. Since April 21st of last year, Wuying Hall has become the Forbidden City’s painting and calligraphy gallery.”
Jiang Yubai had his role positioning—he was a tourist who knew nothing about the Forbidden City, and today he had the good fortune to find a conscientious and responsible tour guide like Lin Zhixia. He strictly followed this setting and raised many questions. He asked when Wuying Hall was built, what it was used for, where the paintings and calligraphy came from, whether he could take photos… and so on.
After Jiang Yubai finished speaking, Lin Zhixia turned to look at him. Her eyes were full of smiles as she said cheerfully: “Ming Dynasty Emperor Zhu Di began construction of the Forbidden City in 1415, and Wuying Hall, like other palaces, was completed around 1420. At that time, the emperor would typically receive his ministers in Wuying Hall, but later this was moved to Wenhua Hall. As for the paintings and calligraphy, they were mostly tributes from ministers. You want to take photos, of course you can, but you can’t use flash.”
Jiang Yubai found a digital camera. He hung the camera strap around his neck, pondered for a few seconds in his mind, and then asked her: “May I take a photo of you?”
Lin Zhixia agreed decisively: “Of course.”
Jiang Yubai didn’t speak, just looked at her like this.
She blinked once and averted her gaze: “I… let’s take a photo together.”
Jiang Yubai gripped the camera tightly: “Could we take a few more?”
Lin Zhixia said softly: “Alright.” She grabbed Jiang Yubai’s backpack strap and pulled him through the entrance of Wuying Hall.
There were other tourists around appreciating the calligraphy and paintings, so Lin Zhixia’s voice became softer: “Look at this painting, it’s called ‘Zen Opportunity and Painting Interest Scroll.’ It’s a work by Kun Can from the Shunzhi period of the Qing Dynasty. Kun Can was about fifty years old when he painted this.”
Jiang Yubai made a contemplative expression: “Why does this painting’s name include the words ‘Zen Opportunity’?”
“Because…” Lin Zhixia couldn’t answer.
The artist Kun Can had written on the painting himself: “Mountain exit, Confucian principle, Zen opportunity, and painting interest are all comprehended herein,” but Lin Zhixia couldn’t fully grasp this. That certainly wasn’t because she lacked the aptitude, but because she didn’t quite understand the art of painting and calligraphy appreciation.
Jiang Yubai had stumped Lin Zhixia, and Lin Zhixia felt a bit embarrassed. She extended two index fingers, tapping their pads together several times, then suddenly asked him in return: “Have you understood the Zen opportunity?”
Jiang Yubai nodded once.
Lin Zhixia immediately urged him: “Tell me quickly, I want to hear.”
But Jiang Yubai said: “Zen opportunity is a Buddhist term.”
“That’s right,” Lin Zhixia echoed, “it implies many principles.”
Jiang Yubai appeared profound and mysterious: “These principles cannot be directly spoken.”
Lin Zhixia tilted her head: “Your tone sounds so mature.”
In Jiang Yubai’s view, “mature and steady” were terms of praise. He wanted to continue showing his mature side in front of Lin Zhixia. So, he racked his brains to compose a lengthy draft about art appreciation. But then he immediately thought that the role he was playing today was Lin Zhixia’s tourist, someone completely ignorant about calligraphy and antiques, and he should faithfully adhere to his character setting.
After such deliberation, Jiang Yubai changed his words: “Show me some other calligraphy and paintings.”
Lin Zhixia led him to the front of “Ink-Intoxicated Miscellaneous Paintings Album.”
This painting featured lotus roots, lotus seed pods, a pond, and the author’s inscription. Jiang Yubai observed for a moment, then asked: “Do you like eating lotus roots?”
Lin Zhixia giggled. She easily penetrated his inner world: “Are you thinking about me while looking at the painting?”
Jiang Yubai remained silent. He put his hands in his pants pockets, slightly raised his head, and looked at a painting hanging on the wall. He tried to discard all distractions and immerse himself in the cultural ocean of the Ming and Qing Dynasties, but he failed. He would always, consciously or unconsciously, think of Lin Zhixia’s name.
Lin Zhixia gripped Jiang Yubai’s backpack strap and never let go. She deliberately shook her wrist, and Jiang Yubai could feel her pulling force, leading him to say: “You seem very happy.”
Lin Zhixia openly admitted: “Yes, I am very happy.”
Jiang Yubai asked her: “What are you happy about?”
Lin Zhixia stepped to his side in one stride, with only ten centimeters left between them.
She had originally thought Jiang Yubai would nervously dodge away, or raise a hand to block her, repeatedly emphasizing “boundaries, mind the boundaries” and such things, but he didn’t. He just stood there quietly, murmuring to himself: “When you’re happy, I feel happy too.”
Lin Zhixia felt she understood many philosophical principles. But she suddenly realized she couldn’t even figure out her situation… it was as if a flower had suddenly bloomed in her heart, causing her to involuntarily slow her breathing.
After saying that, Jiang Yubai turned his face to look at Lin Zhixia.
Lin Zhixia exclaimed: “I understand what ‘painting interest’ is now. Being inspired by scenery is a painting interest.”
Jiang Yubai replied without thinking: “In middle school classical Chinese class, there were always phrases like ‘inspired by scenery, scenery follows emotion’.”
Lin Zhixia calmly replied: “That’s right.”
She and Jiang Yubai stayed in Wuying Hall for about ten minutes before leaving and continuing outward.
Jiang Yubai walked ahead of Lin Zhixia, while Lin Zhixia pulled on his backpack strap, finding a special kind of joy in it. But she hadn’t anticipated that Jiang Yubai’s sense of direction wasn’t very good; he led Lin Zhixia back to their starting point—Wumen Gate of the Forbidden City.
Seeing the familiar gate, Jiang Yubai looked slightly embarrassed: “I’m sorry, I got the directions wrong.”
Lin Zhixia curiously asked him: “Do you get lost in your own home?”
Jiang Yubai said: “I did when I was younger.”
Lin Zhixia laughed heartily. She said: “It’s alright, we can visit the Wumen Gate exhibition hall.”
She pointed to a signboard and imitated the staff’s tone: “Today’s Wumen Gate exhibition theme is Cartier Treasures Art, displaying a total of 346 exquisite Cartier treasures[1]. Are you interested in learning about it?”
But Jiang Yubai said: “What a coincidence, Cartier…”
Lin Zhixia asked puzzledly: “What is it?”
Jiang Yubai opened his backpack, took out a box, and handed it to Lin Zhixia. He said: “I prepared a fourteenth birthday gift for you.”
It was a Cartier women’s mechanical watch with a 33-millimeter dial diameter, sapphire crystal face, rose gold case, and dark leather strap—very simple and beautiful.
Jiang Yubai had noticed that Lin Zhixia didn’t have a watch. Although she now had a phone, it was still a Nokia with a nine-grid keypad, not as convenient as having a watch on her wrist.
Lin Zhixia gripped the packaging box, stood for more than ten seconds, and still didn’t speak. Jiang Yubai asked her softly: “Don’t you like it?”
Lin Zhixia shook her head. She murmured: “It’s too valuable.”
Jiang Yubai had already thrown away the receipt. But he remembered the price of this watch. He honestly told her: “This year’s gift isn’t as expensive as that spacecraft model.”
Lin Zhixia was shocked: “Is the spacecraft model that expensive? More expensive than the robot we made?”
Jiang Yubai nodded: “The spacecraft was custom-made, with a rush fee added.”
Jiang Yubai stood in front of her, both of them standing in the shadow of the tower, the autumn sky exceptionally high and distant, like another ink-wash landscape painting. Lin Zhixia gazed into the distance, composed herself for a moment, and declined: “No, I can’t accept it.”
In early September this year, Lin Zhixia had given Jiang Yubai a handmade music box. Jiang Yubai received handmade crafts from Lin Zhixia every year, and Jiang Yubai believed that his return gift was not more precious than what Lin Zhixia had given.
Jiang Yubai said: “The gift you gave me is handmade, limited edition worldwide, only one piece. My math teacher has seen the competition notes you gave me. He said if that notebook could be published, it would be a bestseller. I was just about to ask your opinion—would you be willing to publish a competition guidebook?”
Lin Zhixia hesitated: “But that was specially written for you alone…”
“Good,” Jiang Yubai responded to her, “just the royalties from that book would be about the same as this watch.”
“Really?” Lin Zhixia asked skeptically.
Jiang Yubai looked into her eyes: “Really. When have I ever lied to you?”
The weather was clear today, the light pure and crisp. Lin Zhixia stood beneath the majestic tower, her thinking a beat slower than usual. She recognized the color of Jiang Yubai’s pupils and silently thought that both sunlight and stars were in his eyes.
Lin Zhixia’s left hand held the box, and Jiang Yubai simply took out the watch.
He lowered his head, focusing intently as he personally helped her put on the watch. His fingertips inevitably touched her wrist, and in this instant, her heart seemed to tremble almost imperceptibly. She finally understood why Jiang Yubai always emphasized the word “boundaries.”
Lin Zhixia intended to laugh generously and then slap Jiang Yubai’s shoulder like a buddy—but she couldn’t do it. Her voice was soft and gentle: “Th… thank you.”
Jiang Yubai responded gladly: “You don’t need to be formal with me.”
The noisy sounds of tour groups arose nearby, and visitors in the exhibition hall were increasing. Lin Zhixia led Jiang Yubai directly toward Wenhua Hall. From time to time, she lowered her head to look at her watch, its face gleaming brightly, while countless thoughts surged in her mind.
Lin Zhixia remembered that during her last visit to Jiang Yubai’s home, she had planned to deeply analyze her thoughts. Later, because there were many things to busy herself with at school, she had temporarily suspended her “self-taught analysis” work.
She took a deep breath. To divert her attention, she suddenly said without warning: “On July 15th last year, the Forbidden City opened Wenhua Hall to the public as a ceramics exhibition hall.”
Jiang Yubai said, “You even remember the opening date.”
“Yes,” Lin Zhixia said confidently, “that’s how my memory works!”
Jiang Yubai praised her: “Very smart.”
The ceramic antiques exhibited in Wenhua Hall were all exquisite pieces, several of which could be described as “masterpieces of ingenuity.”
Lin Zhixia closely observed an artifact called “Blue and White Underglaze Red Brush Pot with Text Praising a Wise Emperor Finding Worthy Ministers.” The calligraphy on the pot’s body was extremely beautiful, every stroke showing spirit and character. She said: “This is from the Kangxi period.”
Jiang Yubai commented: “Exquisite craftsmanship.”
Lin Zhixia then pulled Jiang Yubai to see enamel porcelain.
Some enamel vases had rather vibrant colors, with flowers gathered together in a riot of colors.
For example, there was an item called “Red Ground with Cartouches of Enamel Peony Pattern Cup” which featured patterns of peonies, chrysanthemums, and orchids[2], with the craftsman’s brushwork still delicate and vivid.
Lin Zhixia and Jiang Yubai walked and stopped in Wenhua Hall, then circled Wenyuan Pavilion before heading toward the central axis from a side door.
Near the central axis, there were many tourists, with tour groups from various countries. Lin Zhixia noticed Japanese and Australian groups, and she was distracted by listening to Japanese and Australian English for a while, as if doing a listening exercise.
Passing through Zhonghe Hall and Baohe Hall, Lin Zhixia spotted a piece of imperial terrace stone at a glance. It was said to be the largest imperial terrace stone in the Forbidden City, known as the “Cloud Dragon Stone Carving.”
Lin Zhixia said to herself: “This stone was transported from Yunnan by more than ten thousand laborers and over six thousand soldiers.”
Jiang Yubai understood. He handed the camera to Lin Zhixia, who first photographed the imperial terrace stone, then turned to photograph Jiang Yubai. He was caught off guard, only hearing Lin Zhixia’s laughter. She asked: “Is this the first time today I’ve captured you alone in the camera?”
Jiang Yubai wasn’t quite sure: “I think so.”
“Don’t delete it,” Lin Zhixia enjoined him, “send me the photos when you get home.”
Jiang Yubai nodded.
Lin Zhixia said with a bright smile: “I’ll save the photos on my laptop.”
“You remember what I look like,” Jiang Yubai asked her, “why do you still need to save photos?”
Lin Zhixia described vaguely: “It’s a different feeling. The things in your head versus the things you see with your eyes… do you understand?”
Jiang Yubai pretended he understood. Just as he couldn’t imagine Lin Zhixia’s memory pattern, he suspected that Lin Zhixia wasn’t clear about the thought structure of ordinary people. And as an ordinary person, he should consider more for Lin Zhixia.
Jiang Yubai believed that smart people like Lin Zhixia were rare, while ordinary people like himself were everywhere.
He adhered to his tourist role today and asked again: “Tour Guide Lin, where shall we play next?”
“Let’s go to the back palace!” Lin Zhixia said happily, “Come with me to see where the emperor’s wives lived.”
Speaking of “the emperor’s wives,” Lin Zhixia seemed particularly excited.
They first went to Kunning Palace, then circled to the Eastern Six Palaces. Chengqian Palace of the Eastern Six Palaces was the bronze gallery, and Zhongcui Palace was the jade gallery. Lin Zhixia, intent on seeing the living quarters of the emperor’s wives, unconsciously began discussing the Qing Dynasty consorts with Jiang Yubai.
Lin Zhixia tested him: “Do you envy ancient emperors? They had many wives, possessing all the beautiful women in the world.”
Jiang Yubai said calmly: “I don’t envy them.”
In Chengqian Palace, the footsteps of visitors rose and fell. Lin Zhixia took a light step forward, carefully treading on the floor, and said: “I thought most boys would envy the emperor.”
“The emperor had to produce a bunch of children…” At this point, Jiang Yubai stopped. He had originally wanted to say that the emperor shouldered a burden, was monitored all day by civil and military officials, and summoned palace concubines like a controlled machine, but he couldn’t discuss these things in front of Lin Zhixia.
Jiang Yubai’s father had talked to him about “several things boys should know,” and since then, Jiang Yubai’s perspective on things had become more diverse. He was no longer as naive and innocent as when he was younger, but he still maintained his image.
He expressed himself euphemistically but honestly: “I can’t understand the emperor. If it were me, one empress would be enough.”
Lin Zhixia slapped his shoulder like a buddy: “Good emperor.”
Jiang Yubai smiled: “The Qing Dynasty was different from modern times.”
Partly attracted by the bronze exhibits, he asked casually: “Would you like to be an empress?”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he froze on the spot.
Jiang Yubai had just assumed himself as an emperor, needing only one empress, and now he had asked Lin Zhixia such a question, which indeed created significant ambiguity. He saw a huge bronze furnace and even wanted to squat inside it to calm down.
Fortunately, Lin Zhixia didn’t notice his mistake. She said seriously: “I wouldn’t want to be an empress; I would want to be an empress regnant.”
“Very good,” Jiang Yubai praised, “as expected of you, Captain Lin Zhixia.”
Lin Zhixia analyzed with him: “In ancient times, once you became empress, everything you did had to prioritize the emperor. There was no freedom at all. Even when speaking with the emperor ordinarily, you had to be extremely careful. It wasn’t fair at all. As for modern royal families… I’ve heard that in the Japanese imperial family, the rules are extremely strict. Crown Princess Masako developed depression, and it was only in her ninth year of marriage into the imperial family that she had a chance to visit her parents’ home.”
Jiang Yubai read the introduction to a bronze artifact while responding: “You’re right.”
Lin Zhixia suddenly fell silent for a few seconds. Looking at his slightly reddened ears, she questioned: “Why are you blushing again? Did I say something wrong?”
Jiang Yubai falsely claimed: “This palace is a bit hot.”
“Really?” Lin Zhixia exposed him, “Would the temperature in a palace preserving ancient cultural relics continuously rise?”
Jiang Yubai didn’t respond.
Lin Zhixia retraced their previous conversation and immediately found the key point. She curled Jiang Yubai’s backpack strap into a coil, making it into the shape of a donut, then candidly said: “You play the emperor, I play the empress, revisiting history—is that what you meant?”
Jiang Yubai denied repeatedly: “No, not at all, you’re overthinking, let’s go to the next palace.”
“No, not at all…” Lin Zhixia repeated his words, then reminded him, “In middle school Chinese class, the teacher taught us that a double negative equals a positive.”
Jiang Yubai was speechless.
He surrendered.
He was certain that in some situations, he couldn’t win against Lin Zhixia.
What shocked him most was that Lin Zhixia calmly said: “Choose an emperor, and I’ll play your empress. Just don’t choose Guangxu, all his wives were miserable, one worse than the other.”
During his year at the international high school, Jiang Yubai’s teachers had organized script performances. The teacher had extracted a passage from Shakespeare’s “Richard II,” and Jiang Yubai was responsible for playing “Richard II” with only three lines—an easy role. A Chinese girl of Burmese nationality from the neighboring class played his queen.
At that time, Jiang Yubai’s heart was still as water, but now he felt the situation was vastly different.
He righteously stopped her: “This isn’t appropriate.”
Lin Zhixia tilted her head.
Jiang Yubai said: “That kind of relationship isn’t like a tour guide and tourist, something we can casually play with.”
Lin Zhixia put her hands behind her back.
“I’m not picking on your mistake,” Jiang Yubai smoothed things over for her, “I know you trust me and are willing to play games with me, just like when we were children.”
“I understand,” Lin Zhixia continued, “you mean that now we’ve grown up, we need to mind boundaries.”
“Yes.” Jiang Yubai sighed lightly. He walked out of Chengqian Palace with Lin Zhixia and added: “You are indeed very smart.”
*
Some areas of the Eastern Six Palaces were not open to the public. Having seen the open sections, Lin Zhixia became full of curiosity about the closed areas. She walked toward a secluded corridor and discovered a courtyard with tightly closed doors and windows—the courtyard door was made of pure wood, and due to its age, the wood had faded, covered with a thin layer of light white dust.
The gap in the door was about ten centimeters wide, through which the courtyard scene was visible.
Lin Zhixia bent down, getting closer to the gap.
Jiang Yubai asked her: “What do you see?”
“This place hasn’t been visited for many years,” Lin Zhixia described, “There are two big trees inside, thick fallen leaves on the ground, and behind the big trees is a building. The windows of the building are black, and I don’t know what’s inside.”
A cold wind blew in bursts at this spot, and Jiang Yubai suggested: “Then don’t look anymore.”
“Mmm!” Lin Zhixia obediently agreed.
She secretly asked him: “Could this be a cold palace?”
Jiang Yubai had never paid attention to the history of the back palace.
In his impression, a cold palace would have a sign hanging on it that said “Cold Palace.”
But Lin Zhixia told him: “Whenever the emperor grew tired of a concubine, the place where that concubine lived became a cold palace.”
Jiang Yubai commented: “The harem system is quite complex.”
Lin Zhixia said: “The emperor might not remember all his wives, and the wives he forgot would continue living in the cold palace.”
Jiang Yubai stepped over a fallen leaf and walked to Lin Zhixia’s side: “I’m reminded of our script ‘Transformation’.”
Lin Zhixia smiled sweetly. She and Jiang Yubai wandered around for a while before taking a detour to the back garden. Here, Lin Zhixia asked a passing scenic area staff member to help take several photos of her and Jiang Yubai together.
It was then ten minutes to three in the afternoon, approaching three o’clock. Neither Lin Zhixia nor Jiang Yubai had eaten lunch, but they were both thinking of other things and momentarily forgot about lunch.
When Lin Zhixia came to her senses, hunger swept through all her thoughts like a flood. She suggested: “Shall we go out to eat?”
“Sure, I’ll call the driver.” Jiang Yubai took out his phone.
Author’s Note: References for this chapter:
[1] “Cartier Treasures Art Exhibition at the Forbidden City from September 6, 2009, to November 22, 2009”
[2] Red Ground with Cartouches of Enamel Peony Pattern Cup – Palace Museum