A CLEAR VOICE RESONATED from outside the pavilion: "Of course not!"
Everyone inside raised their heads to watch the two youths in tattered robes enter. The boy in front strode forward with dignity and grace; the one trailing behind him radiated vigor and energy, eyes bright.
Still, the boys' shabby attire prompted the young masters to whisper in their seats, gazes full of scorn. Xiahou Lian caught snippets of their conversations, such as "Where did these vagrants come from? They're an eyesore here," and "I've never seen him before. Is he even from this family?"
Ignoring them, Xie Jinglan said loudly, "Pupil Xie Jinglan has come to greet you, Dai-xiansheng. What Dage told you just now isn't true. I trust that Xiansheng will understand."
Xie Jingtao slammed his fists against the table and rose, his face and neck flushed crimson. "You claim I'm framing you, Xie Jinglan? You stole those books—in front of plenty of witnesses! Shall I summon them?"
Xie Jinglan gave a small smile, staying courteous. "When did I ever steal anything from you, Dage? I merely retrieved some books you tossed into the storeroom."
"Are you saying that books don't count as possessions? The books our family produces through Xiuwen Hall cost several coppers each. I didn't throw them away; I placed them in the storeroom. You took them without asking. That's theft!"
"Please stay calm, Dage. This is all just a misunderstanding. I am frail, so in her great kindness, the mistress did not make me go to school. Even so, I have long admired the wisdom of the sages. Unfortunately, I don't receive a monthly allowance, so I could only ask the storeroom steward for my brother's discarded books. The storeroom steward gave me permission to take them, but Dage may not have asked him and thus wrongly believes that I stole them. I'm seizing the opportunity to clear that up today."
Xie Jinglan's words made the truth clear to everyone: The first wife resented this illegitimate son and forbade him to attend school. He was thus forced to rely on his eldest brother's castoffs, only for his brother to accuse him of theft.
Xie Jingtao stood there, mouth agape, unable to summon any retort.
At that moment, Xie Bingfeng spoke up. "Tao-er, don't you think you owe him an apology after slandering him so?"
Forced to concede, Xie Jingtao laughed awkwardly. "Yes, of course. My mistake—I failed to ask for clarification and thus accused you in error."
Both siblings sported smiles that didn't reach their eyes as they put on the show of brotherly love. The scene made Xiahou Lian prickle with discomfort.
In truth, Xie Jinglan had been forced to back down. He couldn't humiliate his fat brother here, in front of Dai-xiansheng. After all, if he failed to earn a spot as Dai-xiansheng's disciple today, all his efforts would only serve to embarrass him. At that point, the corpulent scourge would have no trouble making him pay.
Xie Bingfeng turned to Xie Jinglan, his demeanor warm and welcoming. "I don't believe we've met before. Are you from a branch family? May I ask who your parents are? If your family is in need, go ahead and take some silver from the treasury. Perhaps that will help with your household expenses. Once your health improves, you may also attend the clan school free of charge."
Deathly silence fell over the venue. What kind of farce was this? Didn't Xie Bingfeng recognize his own son?
Stunned, Xiahou Lian stared at the middle-aged man at the head of the table, gazing at his tall crown and flowing robes. Xie Bingfeng's expression was solemn as he sat with his hands firmly on his knees, his back as straight as a pencil. Not a single hair was out of place. All that was missing was the phrase upright gentleman stamped on his forehead.
Yet the moment Xiahou Lian laid eyes on Xie Bingfeng, he recalled finding that album—Intimate Scenes of Leisurely Love. Perhaps this "upright gentleman" also had The Secrets of the Jade Room or The Secret Pastimes of Spring Nights tucked away elsewhere. With that, the words he imagined across the man's forehead instantly transformed into sanctimonious hypocrite.
Xie Jinglan's face went pale, and his fists clenched tightly beneath his sleeves. The Xie family had many members, and Xie Jinglan had spent most of his time in Qiuwu Courtyard, so few of them recognized him.
"Yes, our clan has always been charitable," another ignorant man even chimed in. "Since you come from one of the family's branches, everyone will naturally help you."
These words only rubbed salt in Xie Jinglan's wound, leaving him reeling. He stared blankly at Xie Bingfeng. He'd greeted his father countless times during New Year's celebrations and sacrificial rites, and had always followed him on horseback when he journeyed to the capital.
As it turned out, Xie Jinglan had himself forgotten something: This was the closest he'd ever stood to his father. The man didn't recognize him at all.
Xie Jingtao was just as dumbfounded as Xie Jinglan. "What do you mean, 'one of the branches'?" he stammered. "Father, this is Xie Jinglan, your third son!"
Speechless, Xie Bingfeng stared at Xie Jinglan for a long while. When he finally regained his composure, his expression showed a combination of surprise, embarrassment, and shame, but not a speck of guilt.
Xiahou Lian's heart twinged painfully. Without thinking, he stepped closer to Xie Jinglan and silently gripped his cold hand.
Xie Bingfeng gave a strained smile. "Ha ha. Jinglan, you've grown so much—and I was away for so long, I actually forgot what you looked like. You won't hold that against me, will you?"
But even if his father didn't recognize him, surely he didn't forget Xie Jinglan's name as well? thought Xiahou Lian. Unless… Was it possible that Xie Bingfeng hadn't picked the name "Jinglan"?
Xie Jinglan's voice was somewhat dazed, his tone uneven. "You toil day and night, Father. You've been busy with the court. I...understand."
Dai Shengyan quickly cut in to smooth things over. "Young friends, why don't you both take a seat? As it happens, this other young man hasn't introduced himself yet. Young man, I saw you rowing across the pond, and I'd love to make your acquaintance."
Xiahou Lian remained standing for a long while before finally realizing that everyone around him was a member of the Xie family—there were no attendants or servants in sight. He folded his hands and replied, "I am Xiahou Lian, Jinglan-shaoye's humble servant and book-boy. I was in too much of a hurry earlier to notice that book-boys aren't needed here." After a brief pause, he glanced at the dazed Xie Jinglan and added, "I often listen to our young master recite the words of the sages, and I too have grown to admire them. May I be allowed to listen in?"
"Of course you may." Dai Shengyan nodded with a smile. "A desire to learn is commendable. How could I stand in your way?"
A cup of tea later, the commotion seemed to have been washed down and away; the guests had collectively pushed it from their minds. Dai Shengyan stroked the curled end of his distinguished beard and cleared his throat. The room immediately fell silent, as if a storyteller had struck a gavel for attention. All eyes were fixed on Dai Shengyan's weathered lips as everyone eagerly anticipated his words.
"I would like to pose a question to all our young friends here: For what purpose do you study the texts of our sages?"
Everyone exchanged glances. For what purpose? To become an official and get rich—why else? Why would anyone dedicate their time to memorizing those dusty old books if not for the imperial examinations?
Put more diplomatically, one might say something like "I study to cultivate myself, guide my family, strengthen the nation, and bring peace to the world."8 Such lofty principles—bringing peace and security to all—flowed like water from scholars' brushes and mouths; they were so frequently espoused—chewed and spat out—that they'd long since become dull and flavorless, losing any impact they had.
But Xie Jinglan wasn't thinking about any of that.
He knew with perfect, crystal clarity what his desires were.
For him, studying had never been about bettering the nation for the benefit of all. He'd never cared how many pastries the street vendors sold, how many souls were laid to rest in unmarked graves, or whether a region was plagued by droughts or floods. He didn't even care whether the earth flowed with rivers of blood. As long as he was safe and secure at home, that had nothing to do with him.
All he wanted was for the Xie family—his family, who had forgotten, humiliated, and scorned him—to one day throw themselves at his feet and weep with regret. Just picturing that scene ignited a fire within him, and that imaginary exhilaration pushed him to force the sages' nonsense down his throat until his head spun and he staggered with exhaustion.
But he knew he must bury such thoughts deep inside. On the surface, he would maintain the guise of an upright gentleman concerned only for the country and its people. He concealed his dark, twisted thoughts beneath a facade of gentility and humility, and he couldn't let even the tiniest hint of them slip through.
Xiahou Lian squeezed his hand, and Xie Jinglan squeezed back, whispering, "Don't worry."
The inexplicably confident Xie Jingtao answered the question first. "I seek to cultivate myself, guide my family, strengthen the nation, and bring peace to the world. To me, those things define what it means to be a true gentleman!"
Dai-xiansheng neither praised nor criticized Xie Jingtao. He only swayed his bony head, which teetered atop his stalklike neck, signaling the next person to speak.
The second young master, Xie Jingtan, sat behind Xie Jingtao. "In my case, your pupil lacks both foresight and ambition. All I wish is to soar like a peng, to live unfettered!"9
Dai Shengyan chuckled. "To live unfettered—a wish unconcerned with worldly affairs. Yet that endeavor remains difficult."
Soon, everyone in the pavilion had spoken but Xie Jinglan. Dai Shengyan's gaze settled on him, and the man nodded gently.
Xie Jinglan bowed deeply. "This pupil is dull and foolish. But I strive to live without shame, without regrets, and without grievances." His expression remained serene, as if the turmoil of his arrival had never happened.
Dai Shengyan sighed as he gazed at the youths. The Xie family seemed only to wane with each passing generation. He'd truly been out of his mind to accept its inept patriarch as his disciple. Though he'd yielded to Xie Bingfeng's persistent invitations to visit the family residence, Dai Shengyan was treating it as a mere formality this time. As he'd expected, each young man seemed more incompetent than the last. On top of their appearances, even their mental aptitudes were a disgrace.
However, he hadn't anticipated that amid those noisy, colorful roosters, there would be a solitary white crane. Yet it was a stubborn crane, one that stood too tall and unbending. One day, it was destined to be destroyed.
Dai Shengyan had lived a long life and encountered all kinds of people. He saw through Xie Jinglan's clumsy posturing at a glance. His tightly clenched fists, the reddened corners of his eyes, and his stiff posture betrayed that this half-grown boy wasn't nearly as calm as he seemed.
He was simply doing his best to hold on to the last scraps of his dignity.
Everyone had given their answer, but Dai Shengyan nodded only at Xie Jinglan, making the results clear. Xiahou Lian let out a sigh of relief; their trip hadn't been in vain.
Xie Jinglan underwent the apprenticeship ceremony in front of the entire group. Dai Shengyan helped him rise from the ground, his frail, withered hand gripping Xie Jinglan's arm. Despite the layers of warm clothing Xie Jinglan wore on that cold winter day, he felt intense heat radiate from Dai Shengyan's hand, as if a hot iron were scorching him through his coat.
"You've yet to receive a courtesy name, correct, Jinglan?"
"This pupil isn't of age yet and hasn't had the chance to receive one," Xie Jinglan confirmed.
"No matter," Dai Shengyan said, smiling faintly at his young disciple. "You've faced many hardships, yet your mind remains firm, your ambitions high. But your personality is too obstinate, your heart too hard. I will give you the name 'Jian'an'—'simple peace'—in the hope that you can live simply and peacefully while following your heart's desires. But you must remember: Though the world is fraught with challenges, the heart should remain kind."
Xie Jinglan felt as if Dai Shengyan had emptied a bucket of cold water over him, drenching and chilling him to the bone. The shameful thoughts he tried so hard to conceal had been laid bare before the man's gaze.
To live without shame—only when the Xie family threw themselves at his feet, repaying his years of humiliation, would he be free of guilt.
To live without regrets—only when he held life and death within his grasp to wield as he pleased would he be free of regrets.
To live without grievances—only when everyone he loathed was sucked into an inescapable mire could he be free of grievances!
Dai Shengyan had seen right through his half-baked answer. Xie Jinglan burned with shame, instinctively wishing to turn tail and flee. He was completely unable to understand why Dai Shengyan would want to accept someone like him as a disciple.
Xie Jinglan struggled to bow and express his gratitude. "Your pupil will remember your teachings," he said.
Xiahou Lian had listened to the entire exchange in bewilderment. He still couldn't tell whether this frail, skinny old geezer was praising or criticizing Xie Jinglan.
Whatever. Praise or criticism didn't matter as long as he'd chosen Xie Jinglan.
Confused as Xiahou Lian was, the envy in the gazes around them was clear as day. Though Xiahou Lian wasn't the one who'd been made a disciple, he held his head high as he proudly strutted from the pavilion after Xie Jinglan.
Xie Jinglan was quiet as they walked, his face pale. He looked sicklier than ever before.
Xiahou Lian's proud posture drooped as he walked beside him, helpless. He was a boisterous child, and the somber atmosphere made him uneasy. Xie Jinglan had suffered a heavy blow from his father, then successfully became Dai Shengyan's disciple—one sorrow and one joy. Xiahou Lian didn't know whether to offer comfort or congratulations.
Everything he could think of saying felt wrong. Suddenly, an idea struck him. He dashed in front of Xie Jinglan and threw his arms open to envelop him in a tight embrace.
Xie Jinglan gasped in shock, struggling to break free. "What are you doing?!" he yelled.
Xiahou Lian held Xie Jinglan in place. He was strong; Xie Jinglan knew that already. Sure enough, the new disciple's thrashing was futile.
"My mother said that hugs can cure all sadness—and you, Jinglan-shaoye, are the only person I've ever hugged, other than my mother. You should feel honored."
Xie Jinglan stopped struggling and pressed his face into Xiahou Lian's shoulder. He remained silent for a very long time, until something cool stained his face and salt filled his mouth. Fearful that Xiahou Lian would notice his tears, he kept his tone harsh. "I don't need your pity!"
Alas, he had yet to master the art of hiding his feelings—before he was done speaking, the bitterness within him had already seeped through.
Xiahou Lian released Xie Jinglan, but then grabbed his wrist, dragging him along as they ran.
"Hey! What are you doing?!"
Xiahou Lian didn't answer as he barreled forward with Xie Jinglan in tow, knocking over countless servants, who shouted curses behind them. The wind chafed Xie Jinglan's face and dried the tears streaking his cheeks. Finally, he found that they'd reached the courtyard wall near the kitchen.
Xiahou Lian told him to stay put, then quickly scaled the wall and pushed off the top, vaulting over and inside. Xie Jinglan was still gasping for breath. He'd run too fast; now his lungs seemed on the verge of bursting, leaving him helpless to stop the cocky little bastard.
Fuming, he scanned the area to ensure no one was watching. Then, stepping up onto a stone, he used all his might to scale the tree beside it. The moment he reached the top of the wall and peered over, he was struck with horror. That little bastard had actually slipped through the window into a kitchen where busy servants and chefs bustled around, completely oblivious to the uninvited guest.
Xiahou Lian crouched low, catlike, as he prowled toward the stove. He grabbed a jug of wine and stuffed it into his clothes, then escaped through the same window.
Only when Xiahou Lian jumped safely down from the wall did Xie Jinglan's heart settle in his chest. He grabbed Xiahou Lian by the collar and scolded, "What were you doing?!"
"Calm down, calm down," Xiahou Lian said gently, trying to soothe Xie Jinglan's ruffled feathers. "When you're sad, wine relieves your sorrows; when you're happy, you can toast in celebration! Now's the perfect time for some wine. Come on, let's go have a drink!"
Xiahou Lian pulled Xie Jinglan to a secluded spot. Well aware of Xie Jinglan's fastidiousness, he wiped the stones seven or eight times with his sleeve before tugging the other boy to sit down.
Xiahou Lian took a sip of the wine. Eyes watering from its burn, he handed the jug to Xie Jinglan. The boy refused, however; he never drank alcohol, especially not from someone else's vessel. It took Xiahou Lian much wheedling before Xie Jinglan reluctantly tipped his head back and sipped from the jug. He regretted it the instant the liquid made contact with his tongue, bursting into a fit of violent coughs.
Xiahou Lian laughed uproariously. "I don't pity you, Shaoye," he said after a pause. "I just can't stand seeing anyone sad. When you feel that way, I do too. And really, what about you is pitiable? You aren't missing any limbs. You don't lack food or clothing. You have enough to eat every day, and you're able to study and take the imperial exams. There's a bright future ahead of you! Why should I pity you? There are mountains of people worse off than you. My mother and I used to travel all over, so I met my share of pitiful people. I've seen men suffering from strange illnesses and covered in sores, servants whose masters beat them within an inch of their lives, old folks who lost sons on the battlefield. But you? Sure, your parents might not love you, but compared to those I met, you practically live in a paradise."
Xie Jinglan opened his mouth, but no words came out.
"What name did that geezer give you?" Xiahou Lian went on. "'Jian'an'? I think your days are pretty simple and peaceful already—no heavy loads, no hard labor. When famine struck our mountain, I didn't even know when my next meal would be."
Xie Jinglan began to understand Xiahou Lian's standard for suffering. To Xiahou Lian, true suffering meant things like hunger, destitution, or being on death's door. Only someone as simpleminded as Xiahou Lian would think that way—you couldn't compare physical and mental suffering so easily. Still, Xie Jinglan couldn't help wondering what kind of life Xiahou Lian had led. It certainly didn't sound like a pleasant one.
"Just now, you said you'd traveled all over with your mother," Xie Jinglan remarked. "Was she the head of a theater troupe?"