Purely by Accident – Chapter 21
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I was, as previously established, extremely thick-skinned. As I approached the manor’s front gates, it occurred to me that since I’d already been found out by Xiao Hei — no matter what exactly he thought the princess and I had been up to — to slink away like a thief in the night would smack inevitably of affectation. Besides, the princess had told me last night that there was something she wanted to discuss with me. If I left now, she would be put to the trouble of calling on me after she got up, with all the palaver that entailed: the coach would have to be made ready, the horses put into harness, an entourage assembled. Much better, I thought, for me to find a spot within the manor grounds where I could sit and have a cup of tea while I waited for the princess to rise.
On the heels of that thought, I made a leisurely detour back to the main hall of the manor. There I sat down, made myself at home, and poured myself a cup of herbal tea.
I was halfway through the cup when I realised that, although I’d walked past many an graceful pavilion, along many an elegant terrace, and even crossed a charming little bridge over an equally charming little stream on my way here, not a single guard or servant had stopped me to ask who I was or what I was doing on the manor grounds. A few colourfully-dressed maidservants had stared at me as I passed by, and I’d responded by staring right back at them until they blushed and ducked their heads and scurried away, but that was all. There seemed to be no sense of ‘oh, this person is a stranger and might be dangerous’. This apparent laxness of the security arrangements at the princess’ manor gave me no small concern.
I waited for quite some time — through the windows, I could see that the sun had risen well above the rather ancient osmanthus tree that stood just outside the main hall — before the princess finally swept into the room with Silly Girl in tow.
That lovely figure, the way she held herself — she was a veritable display of perfect pulchritude. I squinted appreciatively at her as she approached, then put down my cup and stepped forward to greet the new arrivals. ‘Your Highness. Silly Girl. Good morning.’
Silly Girl looked up. The very sight of me seemed to deprive her temporarily of her powers of speech. All she could do was point at me and stutter, ‘You… you…’
I gestured helpfully towards the windows, from which the fully risen sun was visible. ‘As the weather is so beautiful today, and I happened to have some time on my hands, I decided to pay an early morning call on you.’ I paused, stole a glance at the princess, and went on, ‘It’s been a few days since I last saw everyone, and I’ve missed all of you very much. Why are you looking so worn out today, Silly Girl?’
Silly Girl finally stopped stuttering and closed her mouth. She had the expression of someone just waking from a dream. ‘It’s probably because I didn’t sleep well yesterday,’ she said, rubbing a hand across her face. ‘I don’t know what came over me, but I kept having these strange dreams all night.’
I let an exaggerated look of understanding spread across my face. Then I turned to the princess and made a show of studying her closely. ‘You, on the other hand, look remarkably well today, Your Highness,’ I said with a smile. ‘Did you have sweet dreams last night, by any chance?’
The princess’ equanimity was admirable. She must have been surprised when she first stepped into the room and saw me, but absolutely no trace of it had shown on her face. Now, even though the teasing note in my voice was evident, she only blushed very slightly and levelled a quick sidelong glare at me. ‘There were no sweet dreams for me yesterday,’ she said coolly. ‘A mosquito flew into my room in the middle of the night — I’m not sure from where — and kept me up the whole time.’
For obvious reasons, these words struck a suggestive note to my ears, and so I replied quite equally, ‘Oh? What kind of mosquito was it? It must have been quite something, to be able to ruffle the feelings of one as calm and composed as yourself, Your Highness.’
The princess had clearly not anticipated that I would be quite as thick-skinned as this. She stared at me wordlessly for a moment, then just as quickly seemed to recover her composure. ‘A flashy, gaudy, attention-seeking sort of mosquito,’ she said, smiling brightly. ‘And an excessively talkative creature too. It kept buzzing around me all night.’
She gestured animatedly as she spoke, looking rather adorable. Rather than retorting, I kept tactfully quiet, and focused all my energies on gazing at her instead.
Silly Girl, her brows knotted in perplexity, looked from me to the princess and back again. It was some time before her expression finally relaxed. ‘So there really was a mosquito,’ she said, and pointed at the nape of the princess’ neck. ‘You’ve been bitten here, Your Highness.’
Hm. I leaned forward to get a closer look. The mark seemed very much like my handiwork from the night before, so I wisely refrained from expressing an opinion on the subject.
The princess might be unflappable — I suspected that even if Mount Tai itself were to collapse in front of her, she wouldn’t so much as blink[1] — but a trace of unease still crept into her expression. She glared viciously at me, then reached up to touch the back of her neck. ‘Really?’ she said, her eyes looking everywhere except at mine. ‘I hadn’t noticed. In that case, it’s past time we sent for some exterminators to get rid of those bothersome creatures.’
Reflexively, I hunched my shoulders around my ears, not daring to look at the princess. Instead, I coughed hollowly behind my hand and directed a listless smile at Silly Girl.
Silly Girl instantly gave me a look of deepest concern. ‘Are you hungry, Young Master Wei? Is that why you’ve got such a dreadful smile on your face?’
I gave her another martyred smile, and was just about to respond when she spoke again, sounding as if a sudden thought had just occurred to her. ‘Oh, there are so many chefs at the residence where you’re staying, the quality of the meals must be —’ Abruptly she shuddered, and flung me a commiserating glance. ‘No wonder you came rushing all the way here in this heat. Oh, you poor thing, your pretty little face really has quite lost its glow. Wait here, I’m going to get you some breakfast.’
I ran over her little speech in my head. Although she’d gotten hold of completely the wrong end of the stick, I couldn’t point to a single thing she’d said that was factually incorrect, and so was unable to think of a good reason to object. In the end, I simply watched as she left the room, intent on her quest.
In the wake of her departure, the main hall suddenly seemed very empty.
I thought hard about what I should say to the princess. Thick-skinned I might be, but when it came to matters of the heart, I was a complete novice. Although I’d learned much from watching that experienced womaniser Xu Ziqi make his many conquests back at the stronghold, the heart that beat beneath my wolfish male attire was still that of a pure, maidenly little sheep. The thought hadn’t occurred to me last night, but now that I had a chance to reflect on what I’d done the night before, I felt that I could be fairly accused of having taken advantage of the princess while she was temporarily incapacitated. The proof of my crimes was right there on the princess’ neck, clear for all to see; there was no question of destroying the evidence. I found my eyes wandering over to it again and again, and felt a twinge of guilt. If one really wanted to pinpoint the reason why a pure-hearted young maiden like myself had suddenly transformed into an out-and-out cad, one could only blame the moonlight for being too beguiling, and the princess herself for being too alluring. The so-called magic of the moonlight, I concluded, had a lot to answer for. As the famous line went: ‘This was all your fault; a moment of madness brought on by the moon.’[2] It struck me then that the profession of poet was a promising one indeed. It gave one the perfect excuse to blame one’s misdeeds on external forces, and to dress up one’s basest desires in the most intellectual clothing. Excellent, truly excellent.
The princess, of course, had no idea how many twists and turns my mind had traversed in the last few moments. I’d fallen silent, so she probably felt it was beneath her to continue sniping at me. Instead, she walked to the top of the room, sat down and poured herself a cup of tea. She gazed steadily at me as she sipped from it; there was something inscrutable in her expression.
Because she sat facing me directly, the evidence of my misdeeds from last night was now temporarily hidden from view. Feeling as if I had received a slight reprieve, I looked up and gave her a small, decorous smile.
The princess lifted a brow, a half-smile hovering about her lips. ‘Oh, what’s this? Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly decided to exercise some restraint now that it’s broad daylight? Not when you were so very brazen last night.’
I felt that the princess was, in some roundabout way, accusing me of trying to disown what had happened between us the night before. In a bid to defend my honour, I blurted out, ‘I can be very brazen in broad daylight too!’
Sunlight spilled from the skylight in the roof. Tiny motes of dust bobbed up and down within that golden halo, looking as if they were enjoying a warm bath. I peered at the princess through that veil of light. It cast a gentle glow over her nonplussed expression.
Being able to flummox the princess meant I’d won this particular battle of words, so I decided to get out while the going was good. After all, one must learn to be content with one’s lot in life. Emboldened, I sat down next to her and cast about for a change of subject.
‘Princess,’ I began, putting on my most serious expression, ‘I made a round of the manor grounds this morning, and it is my considered opinion that your security arrangements are in need of improvement.’
‘Oh?’ said the princess in enquiring tones, though otherwise she seemed completely uninterested in the subject.
Although I was an expert in divining the princess’ moods, I was also used to swimming against the tide when it came to convincing her of the rightness of my views. Undaunted, I took another sip of tea and carried on. ‘Think about it. A stranger like myself has been wandering freely around the grounds all morning, and not a single member of your household has stopped to question me. Your guards, your watchmen, whatever — they might as well not exist.’
The princess smiled meaningfully. ‘And to think you call yourself a bandit chief.’
Those were strong words indeed. Just as one could not simply accuse a monk of still harbouring worldly desires, or a courtesan of failing to exert herself fully in bed, one could hardly accuse a bandit chief of not behaving like one. Although I’d often delegated many of the stronghold’s routine matters to Xu Ziqi and Yi Chen, the pride of a bandit chief still ran deep in my bones. And now the princess had attacked me mercilessly in that very spot — this was something I couldn’t put up with. ‘And why shouldn’t I call myself a bandit chief?’ I demanded. I puffed out my chest indignantly; my face flushed with emotion. ‘What’s wrong with me? Don’t I seem like a bandit chief? What part of me doesn’t seem like a bandit chief?’
The princess’ eyes roved eloquently over my outthrust chest. ‘Apart from the way you’ve lost your composure so completely,’ she said, propping her chin up in her hands. ‘Let me ask you this. Can outsiders wander in and out of your Heiyun Brotherhood’s stronghold as they please?’
‘Of course not,’ I said with some degree of pride. ‘Why, even if a fly were to—’
Oh. I broke off mid-sentence, finally grasping the princess’ point. Since I’d made it safely inside the manor grounds without being summarily despatched by the guards, to the princess’ household staff, that meant I was no intruder, and there was no need for anyone to be wary of me.
Even after I’d turned this over in my mind, however, I still felt somewhat apprehensive. ‘But didn’t I manage to slip out of the woodshed last night without anyone noticing?’ I stole another glance at the princess’ neck. ‘What if some ill-intentioned villain really did manage to find their way into the manor grounds?’
A vicious flush spread across the princess’ face. ‘Who could have worse intentions than you? After you were locked into the woodshed last night, I ordered all the guards to stand down. Otherwise did you really think you could have…’ She trailed off, glaring at me. ‘And as for your movements this morning…’ She paused, then raised her voice and called, ‘Recorder!’
A green-robed official appeared seemingly out of nowhere. He bowed to the princess, cupping his hands respectfully before him.
‘Recorder, do you have a detailed account of all Young Master Wei’s activities this morning?’
The official nodded, his face completely devoid of expression. He flicked through the pages of the notebook he was holding, then recited tonelessly, ‘This young gentleman was first spotted in the grounds outside the princess’ rooms this morning, at around the bi-hour of the rabbit.[3] There were roses in his cheeks, stars in his eyes and a spring in his step. He was humming a tune, the lyrics of which ran thus: “March forward boldly, oh meimei[4] / Take my hand in yours / Flowers bloom amidst the splendour of spring / But don’t pluck the ones that grow wild.”[5] This he repeated as he made his way to the flower garden…’
I felt myself flushing to my ears. ‘Stop!’ I cried, goaded beyond endurance. Rising, I turned to the princess, cupping my hands together respectfully. ‘Princess, your humble servant understands what you mean now,’ I said, a note of pleading in my voice. ‘The manor is as safe as… as houses,[6] and there was no reason for me to worry in the first place.[7] As for the record of my movements, there’s no need to have the whole thing read out, is there? It’s a rather alarming prospect.’
Smiling with gratification, the princess dismissed the green-robed official with a wave of her hand.
Wiping away the sweat that had appeared on my forehead, I aimed a pallid smile at the princess. ‘You said you had something to discuss with me, princess?’
‘Mm,’ said the princess, running a finger around the rim of her cup. ‘What are your thoughts about becoming prince consort?’
‘Of course I want to become your prince consort! A hundred times yes, a thousand times yes, ten thousand times yes…’
The princess’ finger stopped; the corner of her mouth quirked slightly upwards. She said nothing, only looked at me with those sparkling eyes. I’d repeated ‘yes’ by ever-increasing orders of magnitude when it finally dawned on me. I’d made my willingness to become prince consort clear to the princess long ago; what she was asking for now were my thoughts as to how exactly I was to attain that longed-for position.
Unfortunately, I had no thoughts on the matter whatsoever. Ever since the princess had proclaimed that she was bringing me to the capital with her, I’d thought of my elevation to prince consort as something set in stone, immutable and unalterable. At first, I’d accepted my fate in the spirit of noble martyrdom, and had given little thought to the possibility that it might not come to pass after all. Once I’d started looking at the princess with quite different eyes, the prospect of becoming her consort had only filled me with anticipation. Not once had it occurred to me that, given the princess’ stature and the significance of her marriage, it was impossible that the choice of spouse should be left entirely up to her.
I stared blankly ahead for a moment. A sudden wave of dizziness came over me, and I slapped the table beside me decisively. ‘Let’s elope!’
Even before those words had finished echoing through the room, I’d already realised my error. If the princess were the type to consent to an elopement, why would she need to go to all the trouble of bringing me back to the capital with her?
But to my surprise, the princess actually clapped her hands, as if in approval. ‘What a good idea,’ she said, looking me up and down. ‘If you could somehow contrive to get a child on me, my father might just spare your life once they capture us and bring us back to the palace. Or perhaps’ — and here her eyes wandered over me again — ‘I could get a child on you?’
Your dashing bandit chief found her earlobes flushing most disgracefully. ‘Then what do you think we should do?’ I asked hesitantly.
The princess thought the question over for a moment. ‘How good of a writer are you?’
‘I’ve been known to scribble the occasional skit or entertaining little tale, but when it comes to scholarly essays, well…’
‘And how are you at feats of arms?’
‘I don’t think I’m too bad…’
‘Mm.’ The princess stared into the depths of her cup, pressing a finger against her forehead, and lapsed into silence.
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Footnotes:
- In Chinese, 泰山崩于顶我自岿然不动, literally ‘if Mount Tai were to collapse, I would remain upright and unmoving’. This is reminiscent of the common saying 泰山崩于前而色不变, literally, ‘if Mount Tai were to collapse before them, their expression would not change’. It originates from ‘Mental Disposition’ (心术), an essay by the Song Dynasty essayist Su Xun (苏洵). Mount Tai is a mountain of great historical and cultural significance located in the northeast of China, and served as an important ceremonial centre for large parts of Chinese history. [return to text]
- This is a quotation from the 1998 Mandopop song ‘Troubled by the Moon’ (月亮惹的祸) by the Taiwanese singer-songwriter Phil Chang (张宇). [return to text]
- In Chinese, 卯时, approximately 5am to 7am. In traditional Chinese timekeeping, each day was divided into twelve divisions, each roughly double the length of the contemporary hour. Each bi-hour was associated with one of the twelve ‘earthly branches’ (地支). These earthly branches were, in turn, associated with various Chinese astrological traditions, including the Chinese zodiac. 卯 is the fourth of the twelve earthly branches, and is thus associated with the rabbit, which is the fourth sign in the Chinese zodiac. [return to text]
- In Chinese, 妹妹你大胆地往前走. This is a reference to the song of the same title which was composed for the 1987 film Red Sorghum (红高粱). The film was the directorial debut of Chinese filmmaker Zhang Yimou (张艺谋) and was adapted from the novel of the same title by the Chinese novelist Mo Yan (莫言). Within the film, the song is sung by the male lead as he and several other men carry the female lead’s wedding sedan chair across a field of red sorghum, on her way to an arranged marriage with a much older and wealthier man. [return to text]
- In Chinese, 野花不要采, literally ‘don’t pluck the wildflowers’. This may be a riff on 路边的野花不要采, literally ‘don’t pluck the wildflowers growing by the roadside’, the title and key line of a 1973 Mandopop song by Taiwanese singer Teresa Teng (邓丽君). In the song, a loving wife temporarily parting from her husband exhorts him not to get involved with other women — the metaphorical ‘wildflowers growing by the roadside’ of the title. [return to text]
- In Chinese, 安如铁桶, literally ‘as safe as an iron bucket’. This denotes something that is very secure. [return to text]
- In Chinese, 杞人忧天. See footnote 3 to Chapter 1. [return to text]
douqi 随笔 