Purely by Accident – Chapter 31
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On the fifteenth day of the eight month, the emperor finally issued his edict granting posts in the civil service to the successful candidates from this year’s imperial examination. The best twenty candidates were, in addition, invited to a royal banquet at the palace that very same evening. Most new officials had been given posts in provinces outside the capital, so the banquet served both as a send-off for them as well as a reward for our success. It also demonstrated how highly the emperor valued scholarly talent as well as how considerate he was of his officials.
In truth, following established precedent, all of us successful candidates should have been despatched to posts in other parts of the empire. The only exception was the zhuangyuan: previous holders of that title had been permitted to take up positions that would keep them close to the emperor himself. But this year — and here I gave the heavily-gilded document itself a good long look — the top three candidates had all been appointed to the Hanlin Academy[1] as historiographers. This was a post of the upper sixth rank — a relatively high degree of seniority.[2]
This, I thought, must be because the emperor wanted to keep me here in the capital for his daughter’s sake, but didn’t wish to make it too obvious lest he attract criticism, and so had settled for bundling all three of us off to the Hanlin Academy as some sort of package deal. What was it they said, that the most devoted hearts in the world are those of parents everywhere?[3] My future father-in-law the emperor must be a paragon of paternal affection indeed.
That evening, the full moon was shining as I made my way to the palace complex. The banquet was to take place in a building called Mingde Hall. Every corner of it was lit by bright lanterns, making it appear doubly magnificent. Along with my fellow newly-appointed officials, I went up the stairs of fine white marble that led to its entrance. It occurred to me that the princess might be present at the banquet, and if so I would be able to see her tonight. The thought made me feel a little as if I were walking on air as I ascended the steps.
Even before setting foot inside Mingde Hall, I could see that two long rows of low tables had already been set out within the main room, each laid enticingly with winecups and little dishes of fruits and nuts. Officials clad in court robes of various ranks were already standing to attention behind each table. It looked as if the banquet was ready to begin as soon as my imperial future father-in-law made his appearance.
Due to our similarity of rank, I was inevitably allotted to the same table as Yang Enming and Lin Haiyuan. As we took our places, Xiao Lin Zi gave me a warm smile. His demeanour seemed completely forthright and natural, and I heaved a secret sigh of relief.
Yang Enming, meanwhile, was very excited. Every now and then he would tug at my sleeve, pointing out some official who looked to me completely undistinguishable from all the other officials present, and tell me all about them. ‘Look, there’s Grand Marshal Wang Zhuoyi! You can definitely tell he’s a military man — see that steely look in his eyes? Oh, and over there, that’s Zhao Tingyun, the Vice-Minister of Personnel![4] How upright and honourable he seems.’
I rolled my eyes helplessly.
Luckily, at that very moment, the eunuch standing at the top of the room called out, ‘Announcing the arrival of His Majesty the Emperor of Yan! Announcing the arrival of Their Highnesses the Princesses of Yan and their consorts!’
I knelt with the rest of the assembled officials, and after reciting the obligatory ‘may Your Majesty live for ten thousand years; may Your Highnesses live for a thousand years’, I stealthily looked up and searched for the princess with my eyes.
As it turned out, there was no real need for me to search. Even amongst her lovely sisters, whose beauty was displayed to their best advantage, Chu Feichen still cut the most striking figure. She was dressed in her formal court robes, which were bordered in gold thread with a pattern of dragons woven into the fabric. The rich clothing set off her exquisite features, making her look even more elegant than usual. She was speaking to the Third Princess, a little frown on her face, then a smile bloomed suddenly on her lips — a captivating sight fit to dazzle any watcher’s eyes.
I couldn’t stop myself from stealing looks at her, so much so that I didn’t even hear the emperor proclaim, ‘You may all rise.’ It was only after Xiao Lin Zi tugged at my arm that I belatedly realised what was going on, and got hurriedly to my feet.
Seeming to sense something, the princess glanced in my direction. Hastily I straightened my robes, then gave her a broad grin. The smile on her lips widened until it lit up her whole face. Her lips parted, and she mouthed two soundless syllables at me.
‘Zisong.’
Those two syllables were completely silent, yet I felt as if she were whispering them into my ear. I could almost feel her arms clinging to my neck, all tenderness and yearning. My heart clenched and unclenched within my chest; my throat felt suddenly dry. I reached out with a trembling hand, managed to find my cup on the table before me, and gulped down a large mouthful of tea.
The Third Princess glanced over as well, also smiling, and gave me a meaningful look. I put down my cup and rubbed at my throat. Beneath our table, Yan Enming tugged at my robes. ‘Look, Wei xiong,’ he said. ‘Her Highness the Eldest Princess is smiling at me, and so is Her Highness the Third Princess. Might I perhaps be just a little too handsome?’
The corner of my mouth twitched. I turned and made a show of scrutinising his features very earnestly. ‘Mm, yes, Yang xiong, you’re handsome indeed — handsome enough to outshine even the very gods in Heaven!’
Yang Enming looked as if he could barely contain his delight. ‘Oh really? And might you have a specific god in mind, Wei xiong?’
I reached out and patted his belly. ‘Truth be told, I don’t know the name of this particular god,’ I said with every appearance of seriousness. ‘All I know is that he’s usually shown bare-chested, with a big smile on his face. Back in my hometown, people call him Maitreya.’[5]
Still smiling, Yang Enming’s expression became absent-minded as he tried to work out who I might be referring to. I looked away from him, trying very hard to repress my laughter, and happened to meet Lin Haiyuan’s eyes. He, too, was clearly trying not to laugh.
This was the liveliest I’d seen him since our encounter at the examination hall. I was just about to smile back at him when he glanced at the princess and said thoughtfully, ‘For some reason, the Eldest Princess looks rather familiar to me.’
The smile froze on my face. After a moment’s thought, I said with a rather awkward chuckle, ‘Most beautiful women probably look a little like each other. Xiao Lin Zi, you must be a frequent visitor to pleasure districts — all pretty women seem familiar to you!’
Lin Haiyuan frowned, and seemed about to retort, but I forestalled him by pointing to the top of the room where the emperor sat. ‘His Majesty is speaking. Pay attention!’
My royal future father-in-law the emperor was indeed saying something about ‘it is the Yan Empire’s good fortune to have such talented scholars as yourselves in its service’ and other such pleasantries. He filled his elaborately carved hardwood chair with a kind of dependable solidity, but there was a gallant air to him as well. This is what a handsome man looks like, I thought approvingly.
My handsome future father-in-law finished speaking. His eyes swept the assembled crowd, then his expression became a little sombre. ‘We are gathered here today for a joyous celebration, but what a pity it is that Yishu’s injuries prevent him from attending. His presence would have made these festivities an even merrier affair.’
Yishu, Zhao Yishu. I wouldn’t have noticed if the emperor hadn’t brought it up, but now I realised that the other princesses were sitting with their consorts, while the Third Princess, despite being very much married, was sharing a table with her eldest sister. That must be because her husband was absent.
My chest tightened suddenly. Reflexively, I looked towards the princess, and saw that her expression had remained perfectly neutral. The Third Princess, however, was frowning. As I watched, she flung the cup she was holding onto the table in front of her, then leaned back in her chair, looking rather exasperated. Her cup was made of beaten gold, and it still held some wine besides. She had cast it away from her with some force, so it landed with a heavy audible thud.
At the sound, the assembled officials fell silent, staring helplessly at each other. The emperor’s expression turned suddenly stern. His lips twitched, but he said nothing.
The strained atmosphere was broken by an official in crimson robes. He stood up, bowed to the emperor, and said, ‘My son owes his great victory to Your Majesty’s favour and the grace of Heaven. His injuries, which are only slight, are being tended to with the most painstaking care by Her Highness the Third Princess herself. Your Majesty’s kindness to our family has been great. Ever has your humble servant held it in his grateful remembrance,[6] and he will cherish it until the end of his days.’[7] His robes were those of a senior official of the upper second rank, with broad lapels, loose, flowing sleeves,[8] and ‘flying fish’[9] decorations embroidered on them. After a moment’s thought, I recognised him as Zhao Tingyun, the Vice-Minister of Personnel, whom Yang Enming had pointed out to me earlier. So this was Zhao Yishu’s father.
The emperor smiled then, and gestured for him to sit down. I looked over at the Third Princess, and saw that her face held a complicated mixture of emotions: mainly derision, but also something that looked like disappointment. Suddenly I recalled the woman I’d glimpsed at Yixian Tavern the other day, gazing out of that window alone, and felt a sudden twinge of doubt.
‘All of the successful candidates from this year’s imperial examination will no doubt go on to be of great service to the empire,’ the emperor was saying. ‘This is especially so with our top three candidates, and particularly our tanhua, Wei Zisong.’ He paused, looked at me, and went on. ‘Aside from his scholarly talents, he has also demonstrated great skill in the martial arts. I find him a most impressive young man.’
The other officials chorused their fawning agreement, though Yang Enming looked ill at ease. I raised my winecup towards my fellow officials, then turned to look at the princess again.
She seemed to be in a good mood today. Her smiling gaze lingered on my face for an instant, then darted away again. She picked up her cup and drank daintily from it. A brilliant flush — perhaps from the wine? — spread across her exquisite features. The sight set my heart aflutter. Smiling, I took a sip from my own cup. Yang Enming looked at me, then at the princess, and finally realised what was going on. ‘So Her Highness was looking at you all along,’ he muttered indignantly. ‘And you were making a pass at her — making eyes at her — why, practically making love to her under the cover of the banquet.’
I choked on my wine. Lin Haiyuan glanced over at me with seeming carelessness, his expression cryptic. I put down my cup, reflecting on how true it was what they said, that a beautiful woman’s favour was the hardest thing to swallow.[10] Having to do so in public was, it turned out, prone to inducing indigestion.
Somehow, I made it to the end of the banquet. As I watched the other officials mingling with each other, exchanging pleasantries and introductions, I felt a little dizzy. Then it occurred to me that, having come all the way to the palace, I would hardly be living up to my reputation as a bandit chief if I didn’t take advantage of the opportunity to leave behind some mark proclaiming ‘Wei Zisong was here’. So I turned to a little eunuch who was standing by and asked him lead me to the imperial outhouse.
When I emerged from the outhouse, having lightened my load, my guide was nowhere to be seen. It was rather dark, even with the full moon shining calmly overhead; the surrounding trees cast heavy shadows in its light. I looked up and studied the constellations, shading my eyes with one hand; then I bent down and examined the lie of the land. In the end, I was forced to admit that I was completely and thoroughly lost — the outhouse lay in too remote a location.
There wasn’t much else I could do about it, so after silently berating the palace staff for being irresponsible, I began stumbling in the direction of some lights a short distance away. I vaguely recalled the emperor asking the princess to stay at the palace for the night rather than returning to her manor, due to the lateness of the hour. Oh, my darling Princess Chu Feichen, your husband is now lost inside your own home. Where art thou, my beloved?
I’d been walking for some time — I wasn’t sure how long — when I arrived at a grand building with the words ‘Zhiqing Hall’ written on the sign across its entrance. Groups of armed guards stood watch by the flight of steps that led up to its front doors. I wondered who lived there.
I was just hesitating over whether to ask the guards for directions when something — or someone — slammed right into my legs. Reflexively, I wrapped my arms around whoever it was, and looked down into a pair of clear, ink-dark eyes. They belonged to a little boy, who stood just waist high to me. His childish little face looked rather flustered, but he managed to force his features into a semblance of calm. ‘Who are you?’ he demanded, lifting an eyebrow.
Since I’d found him inside the palace grounds, and since he was staring at me with such an air of haughtiness, I surmised that he must be some princeling or another. What a handsome child, I thought, and took the liberty of tweaking his little cheek. ‘You must know Chu Feichen?’ I asked in teasing tones. ‘She’s my future wife.’
The little boy’s expression became stern. ‘Such insolence!’ his exclaimed, and his look of admonishment was so like Chu Feichen’s that their faces could have been cast from the same mould. Instantly, I felt a surge of warm familiarity towards him.
I patted him on the head. ‘It’s late. Little boys like you should be in bed at this hour. What are you doing still running about outside?’
For all his airs and graces, he was still a child. ‘My lord father is holding a banquet in honour of all the newly appointed officials tonight,’ he said, pouting. ‘All my sisters and brothers-in-law went, but none of them took me with them!’ He lifted his hand, pushed mine aside, and added indignantly, ‘I’m running away from home!’
Ah, so he really was a little prince. My still-outstretched hand froze in mid-air, as I wondered whether it was best for me to slip away silently, or to stay and talk him out of putting his plan into action. While I was still wrestling with my decision, the troublesome little prince in front of me suddenly broke into a huge grin, ran past me, and flung himself on someone who stood behind me. ‘Dahuangjie!’[11] he called in his clear piping voice.
Ah. The princess.
Very slowly, I turned around. The princess was holding the little boy in her arms, looking down at him with almost maternal tenderness. I gave her a little wave. Her eyes fell on me, and the smile froze on her face. ‘Wei Zisong?’ she asked disbelievingly.
I twisted my hands together awkwardly. ‘Yes, it’s me,’ I said with a nervous chuckle. ‘Don’t mind me, I’m leaving now. You two should carry on.’
I turned and was about to hurry away when Chu Feichen grabbed hold of my ear savagely. ‘Wei Zisong, you’ve got some nerve! This is the imperial palace — do you think you’re free to come and go as you please?’
Oh, I was being very much wronged.
I raised my hands protectively towards my ears. ‘Please, not so hard,’ I begged, lowering my voice. ‘Princess, my wonderful princess, our little brother is still here. Please at least let me save some face.’
She let go of my ear, and her expression softened slightly. A half-smile hovered about her lips. ‘Our little brother?’ she asked.
I gave a little hollow laugh as I rubbed my ear. ‘Princess,’ I said, taking her hand, ‘your home is simply too big. Why, I only took a turn about the grounds, and then I couldn’t find my way out again. But I did’ — and here I pointed at the little prince, who was looking at us with wide guileless eyes — ‘happen across His little Highness here, who was about to run away from home. Don’t you think that’s enough to make up for any transgression I might have committed?’
The little prince was staring indignantly at me, his eyes as dark and round as grapes. Suddenly he piped up, ‘Dahuangjie, he told me just now that he’s my future brother-in-law!’
Oh, what a spiteful, petty, vindictive little pest he was.
Reflexively, I reached up and clapped my hands protectively over my ears. The princess, however, only placed her own hands lightly on my chest. She straightened my lapels, then turned to her brother and patted him on the head. ‘He’s right about that,’ she said gently.
The little pest’s face fell. My heart all aflutter at the princess’ words, I reached out to pat him on the head as well, but the princess batted my hand away.
Her lips lifted in a lovely curve. ‘But he’s not very well-behaved. I’m thinking about divorcing him.’
Huh? What?
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Footnotes:
- In Chinese, 翰林院. This was an academic and administrative institution which performed secretarial, archival and literary tasks for the court. It was founded in the Tang Dynasty and lasted until the end of the imperial period. [return to text]
- The nine-rank system (九品中正制) was a system used to classify government officials in imperial China, with the first rank being the highest and the ninth rank being the lowest. Each rank was further divided into upper and lower ranks. [return to text]
- In Chinese, 可怜天下父母心, which in more or less literal translation means ‘worthy of respect are the hearts of parents everywhere’. This is a line taken from the shi poem ‘On the Occasion of My Mother’s Birthday’ (祝母寿诗) by Empress Dowager Cixi (慈禧) in honour of her mother Lady Fuca’s (富察) sixtieth birthday. [return to text]
- In Chinese, 吏部. See footnote 5 to Chapter 1. [return to text]
- In Buddhist eschatology, Maitreya is the messianic bodhisattva believed to be the Buddha of the next age. In China, he is often identified with the monk Qici (契此), who lived during the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period and is said to be an incarnation of Maitreya. Qici, also known as the Laughing Buddha (笑佛), is traditionally depicted as a fat, cheerful monk with a large belly. [return to text]
- In Chinese, the chengyu 铭感五内. It originates from the novel The Powdered Chamber (粉妆楼) by Ming Dynasty novelist Luo Guanzhong (罗贯中), who is most famous for authoring Romance of the Three Kingdoms (三国演义), one of the four great classical novels of Chinese literature. [return to text]
- In Chinese, the chengyu 没齿难忘, literally ‘will not forget even when one’s teeth fall out (from old age)’. It originates from the essay ‘Felicitations on the Amnesty for Runan Gonghua Province’ (为汝南公华州贺赦表) by the Tang Dynasty poet and politician Li Shangyin (李商隐). [return to text]
- The original text describes this as a ‘qilin robe’ (麒麟袍). This is the type of robe worn by officials during the Ming Dynasty, characterised by broad lapels, a cross collar, wide loose sleeves, and embroidered decorations on the chest, back and sleeves. [return to text]
- In the original text, 飞鱼服. The ‘flying fish’ referred to is a mythological creature with a dragon’s head, a fish’s tail and fins, and two horns. This decoration was worn by officials of the second rank. [return to text]
- In Chinese, the saying 最难消受美人恩. One reading of this is that the recipient of a beautiful woman’s favour will find themselves compelled to perform more and more extravagant deeds in order to impress her and prove themselves worthy, making their own life more difficult. [return to text]
- In Chinese, 大皇姐. In this context, it means ‘royal eldest sister’. [return to text]
douqi 随笔 