Elio’s Notes: The chapter title comes from Li Yu’s Langtaosha: “The golden sword lies buried; heroic spirit is lost among weeds.”
Li Hongji returned to his residence.
He stood alone by the window, his expression unusually grave. Sixth Brother had invited him to Shengding House in the city, that exceptionally secluded and elegant place. The message had said nothing about the reason. They had not seen one another for a long time. It was not that he had not missed him.
A person clothed in the color where heaven met water. How could he forget?
Yet Li Hongji had thought for a long time about whether to go. He had already made his decision. For everything he had looked up to since childhood, the imperial throne, power, the realm, what did it matter if a true man sacrificed a few things?
And so, after his edge became too sharp and his ambition too obvious, he had finally provoked His Majesty’s fury. He had been beaten with a staff and sternly warned that the Prince of Qi would be summoned back and made heir.
The light in Li Hongji’s eyes had been utterly resolute. How could everything he had schemed so carefully to obtain be touched by another, even if that man was his own uncle?
He wanted him dead too.
Back then in the golden hall, Han Xizai had seen everything clearly from the side. The Crown Prince’s ambition had already cost him his reason. After seven years as the Crown Prince’s Grand Tutor, how could Han Xizai not know his temperament? This time, something truly was going to happen.
Sure enough, not long afterward, the Prince of Qi died. His death looked like a sudden heart attack, but when Han Xizai sent people to investigate, they confirmed that he had indeed died from a rare poison. Li Hongji had actually colluded with someone from the north and obtained such an uncommon toxin.
Now gray-haired, Han Xizai too had once been a young man full of ambition and passion. But he had been born into an age of chaos, with the realm still unsettled. After enough years, the world had ground down his edges and taught him that the pleasure of being alive did not necessarily lie in winning something. Being able to abandon oneself freely to music and dance could also be a kind of happiness.
Not everyone could do it. Not everyone could truly live without restraint.
He had watched that child practicing calligraphy, heart fixed upon the character for state, only to walk down a road of obsession. Of course it hurt him. If Li Hongji could only have waited, would this corner of the Southern Kingdom not have become his sooner or later?
Unfortunately.
Li Hongji did not understand. He had lost himself in the road to succession that seemed about to become smooth beneath his feet and could no longer stop. The Prince of Qi. The Duke of Anding. If they disappeared, who else could compete with him?
His eyes were full of urgency and delight. Where was that guqin string now?
Yet today, as though driven by a ghost or god, he still wanted to go and see him. Li Hongji was not an indecisive man. Only today was different. He went alone and refused a sedan chair, yet still he hesitated.
After the rain, he could see Shengding House from far away. He could already imagine everything inside: a man in blue-green robes smiling without speaking, no matter how heaven and earth changed, always only that faint and distant outline. He had always been this way. At sixteen and now, he was still the same.
Then who had changed? There was no answer. In the end, Li Hongji still decided to see Li Congjia.
As he climbed the stairs, Li Hongji replaced his expression with one of ease. He still had to face that double-pupiled eye. He was still the spirited and triumphant Crown Prince.
He absolutely could not yield to that so-called countenance of an emperor. Absolutely not.
His hand had already risen. Only the distance of a single knock remained. Somewhere inside him was still a thread of anticipation. It had been a very long time since he had drunk and spoken heart-to-heart with Li Congjia like this. Even if heaven collapsed tomorrow, at least in this moment Li Congjia was still his Sixth Brother, the Sixth Brother of Flowing Wind and Xiangquan from that year.
Then he heard the person inside speak, not loudly, but with extraordinary clarity. “I only want to know whether he still remembers that guqin string.” Li Hongji’s hand silently fell. The man inside continued, “If he truly understands me, then he knows I have no intention of competing with him.”
Li Hongji turned and went downstairs, leaving without looking back.
A fist slammed into the window lattice.
For the first time, Li Hongji wondered whether he had done something wrong. Yet he despised that inexplicable guilt and kept telling himself that everything he had done was for the future, for the realm.
He firmly believed that only he could lead the three thousand li of mountains and rivers stretching before his eyes. He had always lived inside a dream that refused to die. Just as that dream blazed with lantern light and imagined ten thousand courts coming to offer tribute, someone needed only lift a wrist to brush aside part of its splendor, leaving nothing but red sandalwood ashes in an empty room.
The Mountains-and-Rivers Brocade bestowed by His Majesty truly looked transcendent when worn by him. The congratulations of the officials, the unmistakable admiration in Father Emperor’s eyes. Who had noticed Li Hongji leaving in defeat?
I only want to know whether he still remembers that guqin string.
I only want to know…
Li Hongji had always deliberately forgotten the past. He had only forced himself to pull out this blue-green thorn. Who could have known that after exhausting all his strength, he would wound another and wound himself as well?
He wrenched open the door and shouted at the servants, “Someone! Call everyone in the residence here.”
Daylight was already gone. Everyone in the residence carried torches, but fine rain still drifted down, leaving only weak points of light. Maids holding paper lanterns surrounded the lake around Flowing Wind Pavilion.
The Crown Prince was furious, and no one knew why. He gave only one order: whatever the cost, tonight they were to recover a lost wooden box from the lake.
Almost no one truly knew when the matter had happened. They assumed it must have been within the last few days and that some important object had fallen into the water. Several teams were sent into the lake to search.
Fortunately, the water was not deep. Unfortunately, night made it impossible to see. After two double-hours of turmoil, they still found nothing.
Li Hongji stood inside Flowing Wind Pavilion at the center of the lake, one hand on the railing as he looked around.
He could smell the red sandalwood fragrance from so many years ago, so clearly that it left him nowhere to hide from himself.
His heart grew increasingly frantic. He did not know why. He simply had to find it.
Several servants in the residence were already yawning, hoping they could report that nothing had been found and return to rest. It was only a box. Surely the Crown Prince would eventually give up.
Instead, without turning his head, Li Hongji gripped the white-jade railing until his hand tightened. One sentence silenced everyone. “Drain all the water from the lake. Before tomorrow morning, I want to see the bottom.”
A woman in red stood slowly upon the distant shore, holding a six-stringed instrument. Night had fallen completely, and amid the wavering firelight, no one noticed her.
Hongxiu had originally come carrying the instrument to await a performance.
Instead, every affair in the residence had been set aside tonight. She had come over to see what important matter occupied the Crown Prince, only to find him nearly mad, actually ordering the entire lake drained.
It must be something extraordinarily important. Hongxiu smiled softly and stood without speaking beneath a flowering tree. In the distance, the firelight blazed while people hurried busily back and forth.
Closing her eyes, she could almost feel the unease in his heart inside Flowing Wind Pavilion.
Her fingers moved lightly over the strings. She had not meant to play deliberately, but sound emerged all the same. She had been playing that same piece throughout the day, its melody clear and cold. Now she merely held the instrument idly, without intention.
Only two or three notes. How many in this world are like you?
Inside the pavilion, Li Hongji suddenly felt as though something had seized his throat. After a long while, he walked back toward the shore. The fury surrounding him frightened several young maids holding lanterns into kneeling at once.
More than ten paces separated him from her.
Li Hongji raised a hand and pointed at the woman in red. “Hongxiu.”
Hongxiu smiled and bowed with the instrument in her arms.
The strings fell silent.
Pain suddenly stabbed through his heart. That year, someone had broken a string and cut his finger. “Who allowed you to play this piece?”
Hongxiu remained perfectly calm. “Hongxiu thought the Crown Prince would like it.”
Li Hongji strode over and seized her shoulder. His voice was low and hoarse, nothing like the proud and decisive man of ordinary days. It carried the despair of someone struck at his most vulnerable point and the cruelty of surrender. He told her harshly, one word at a time, “You are never to play this piece again. Otherwise, your fate will be even worse than his.”
Hongxiu quietly made a decision.
Her face remained full of smiles, her phoenix eyes lifted at exactly the right angle. “Yes, Crown Prince. Hongxiu will not dare again.”
Only then did Li Hongji suddenly realize that perhaps he had made far too much of the matter and even lost control of himself in front of servants. He swept his sleeve and released the woman in red, and Hongxiu asked softly, “May I ask what Your Highness has lost?”
Li Hongji sounded impatient. “A guqin string. It has nothing to do with you.” He turned to leave.
Hongxiu did not move. Suddenly she asked, “Does the Crown Prince think the lyric is poorly written? You do not like it?”
Li Hongji’s steps paused, but he immediately continued forward without looking back. His tone was exceptionally firm. “It is not that the lyric is poor. You are not worthy of it.”
You are not worthy of this lyric, Hongxiu. You cannot play it.
Hongxiu slowly carried the instrument back and went to a side room to rest. Since there was no longer anything for her to do tonight, she should have returned to the Han Residence, but she wanted to wait for an outcome.
Li Hongji was foolishly trying to recover the past. And she, it turned out, had lost to nothing more than a guqin string.
Or perhaps, even before losing, she had already fallen for that nightmarish fragrance of red sandalwood.
A whole night wound round and round through the enormous city of Jinling. Who drowned in dreams of pleasure beneath laughing lantern light, who had ever truly played the Rainbow Skirt again and sung it through? Across a city brilliant with peach blossoms, all one could see was this:
none of them were happy.
Li Hongji believed his resolve was fixed. Zhao Kuangyin believed he stood outside the game merely watching.
Unfortunately, both of them had already stepped onto that narrow staircase. The person above Shengding House was the whole reason. And in the end, who would truly obtain a single song of Jianjia?
Elio’s Notes: Jianjia (蒹葭, “reeds”) evokes the ancient Book of Songs poem about pursuing an elusive beloved who always remains beyond reach.
Hongxiu’s thoughts were in chaos. With one hand still resting on the instrument, she drifted into a confused sleep. Too many stories in her dreams could never be sung to their end. Outside the window, people continued moving throughout the residence.
Here was a world of noise. That greater world beyond it remained silent.
When Li Congjia and Zhao Kuangyin returned to the Duke of Anding’s Residence, the entire estate was brightly lit. Piaopeng lowered his head and led them toward the great hall. As usual, Li Congjia enjoyed watching the Golden Lotus Dance, so a gold-painted platform large enough for one dancer had been placed inside. Beyond it lay the banquet hall. Only a few people had yet to take their seats; even the dishes, wine, and servants had all been arranged according to the usual custom.
Ehuang’s magnificent clothing was clearly different from usual. An outer robe woven from peacock feathers trailed along the floor, and across the gold-threaded hem a great blooming peony had been embroidered at an angle, its petals spreading upward until they reached a white-jade clasp at her waist. She stood beside the principal seat reserved for the Duke of Anding, candlelight making her beauty look rich, noble, and overwhelming.
Such a woman was a phoenix before the flames, proud and possessed of an innate nobility.
Li Congjia knew she had waited for a long time and intended to go forward to reassure her. Instead, Ehuang rose lightly with a smile, only for her gaze to pause when she saw Zhao Kuangyin behind him. “So you went out with Young Master Zhao and did not even leave word.”
Li Congjia had only just begun to answer when she continued, “It is rare to see Young Master Zhao dressed so elegantly today. Congjia, if even our guest has taken such care, how can we treat him lightly? Someone, bring out the brocade robe I prepared.”
Even Zhao Kuangyin froze at that.
The woman, brilliant as a phoenix, took a pale garment from Liuzhu’s hands. The moment Li Congjia saw it, surprise crossed his face. “Ehuang, this is…?”
“The Mountains-and-Rivers Brocade bestowed by Father Emperor.”
“Why have you taken it out again?”
“What? Is Young Master Zhao not worthy of being received with such honor?” Her words struck exactly the right note. Liuzhu also seized the moment to say, “Madam waited several hours today. If the Duke of Anding puts it on, it will make Madam happy too.” Li Congjia had never treated her as an ordinary maid, so even when she spoke somewhat boldly, he did not mind.
Zhao Kuangyin clearly saw the thread of pride in Ehuang’s eyes. She wanted to protect Li Congjia. Whatever her purpose, the scene before him was entertaining enough that he was happy to watch. “I only hope Zhao truly deserves such an honor.”
Li Congjia thought she must have grown upset from waiting and therefore agreed. He went behind the hall to change.
Piaopeng, only sixteen or seventeen, trembled as he held the Mountains-and-Rivers Brocade. “Master, this…” Clearly, he had never truly seen this priceless fabric before.
“What is there to be afraid of? It is only a piece of clothing.”
Piaopeng swallowed, even fastening the robe with exceptional care.
Meanwhile, only Zhao Kuangyin and Ehuang remained in the front hall. With elegant bearing, she invited him to sit, maintaining an unmistakable distinction between host and guest. “Young Master Zhao does not seem to be from here.”
“I come from the north.” Zhao Kuangyin knew she could not be at ease. There was no harm in telling her. Everything had always been clear enough; only some people refused to believe it, while others insisted upon holding fast.
Ehuang lifted her head and signaled the servants to pour wine. “Congjia…” The name came naturally, but she suddenly paused, seeming to regret forgetting her manners. “There are few friends of the Duke of Anding whom I have never heard of. I fear I have neglected you.” She smiled after speaking.
Seeing her manner, Zhao Kuangyin understood even more clearly the worry of a wife. He laughed loudly and drained his cup in one swallow. “Truly, only Madam is worthy of the Duke of Anding.” He spoke with no regard whatsoever for etiquette, leaving the conversation nowhere obvious to go. Fortunately, Li Congjia emerged from behind just then, having changed his clothes.
The Mountains-and-Rivers Brocade looked little different from other fine brocade when seen close up, except that its entire surface had been steeped in a translucent mountains-and-water blue-green. But in Jiangnan, if it were merely Tianshui Blue, it could never have earned such renown.
Looking at the person in blue-green, Zhao Kuangyin finally smiled in open admiration.
One had to stand at some distance and look from afar. Across the robe, threads dyed in the same Tianshui Blue embroidered the scenery of three thousand li of the Southern Kingdom: rivers, mountains, sun, moon, flying birds, trailing willows. Every fine and intricate detail had been given to him. All of it rested upon his body.
This was elegance refined from the bones themselves. Common people were unworthy of it.
No wonder. Many people carried the realm in their hearts, but ambition itself would ruin the Mountains-and-Rivers Brocade. What it demanded was breadth of spirit. You might want the realm and still be unable to contain the realm.
Li Congjia could contain the realm, and perhaps this was the one thing the emperor of the Southern Kingdom understood more clearly than anyone.
Separated from him by a table, Li Congjia merely smiled in the candlelight without speaking. Silence surrounded them. Zhao Kuangyin stared directly at him. It was as though the room suddenly filled with red sandalwood, and memory struck him all at once. His expression changed abruptly.
Someone had leaned beside his ear and said, You are all madmen.
Li Congjia’s double-pupiled eye darkened further, impossible to see through.
Ehuang saw everything clearly from the side.
Yet Li Congjia came back to himself, raised his wrist, and poured wine for Ehuang. Smiling, he said that something had delayed him, and that he had spoken so happily with Young Master Zhao at Shengding House that he had forgotten the family banquet.
Ehuang lifted her sleeve as she drank, but her beautiful eyes did not forget to observe Zhao Kuangyin’s expression, as he stared directly at Congjia’s wrist.
There was desire in that gaze.
A desire she could not understand, yet which shocked her profoundly. Her own inexplicable fear unsettled Ehuang. When Li Congjia took his seat and everything resumed as usual, with music and dancing filling the hall, she grew even more uneasy.
A feeling she could not name.
She had originally believed he was a threat to him.
Then why…? Tonight Li Congjia was more openly happy than at any other time. He did not even grow angry when she privately brought out the sealed-away Mountains-and-Rivers Brocade. For all Ehuang’s intelligence, she still possessed a woman’s careful heart. She only wanted to protect him. Believing the imperial gift represented Father Emperor’s special regard, she had deliberately used it to intimidate Zhao Kuangyin, whose intentions were unclear. Ehuang knew Li Congjia would not truly object, but she had still prepared herself for him to order the robe put away again.
That had always been a dead knot, the matter of Li Hongji and Li Congjia.
But what had happened to him tonight? He laughed with perfect ease, and the Mountains-and-Rivers Brocade appeared before the world once again. To frightened and admiring bystanders, it was nothing more than peerless elegance.
But to the three people seated separately within the hall, it was an unspeakable metaphor.
“I offer Young Master Zhao a cup.” Li Congjia poured another Qinghuan wine. Against the porcelain cup, the liquid looked exceptionally clear and cold. Zhao Kuangyin stared at the cup in Li Congjia’s hand for a long while before finally rising to answer the toast.
The porcelain cup chilled to the bone.
As Zhao Kuangyin drank, he thought of everything that would happen only a few days from now. It was not that there was no alternative. It was not that he had been forced into it. But was one Li Congjia worth changing for? Zhao Kuangyin asked himself and found no answer.
Li Congjia, can you truly make me believe in the human heart?
The sword-browed man had not yet removed his scholar’s robes, yet none of his sharpness had diminished. Li Congjia looked into his eyes as he drank his own cup at the same time, Zhao Kuangyin, you are a madman too.
Upon the Golden Lotus platform, someone danced, “Gold and white jade buy song and laughter; one drunken month makes princes seem light.”
Before anyone realized it, the sky had begun to pale. The Yin hour was nearly over.
At the Crown Prince’s Residence, Li Hongji had stood inside Flowing Wind Pavilion for the entire night. Fine rain had soaked him for hours, his robes drying and becoming wet again. Someone came with an umbrella, but he threw it aside. In daylight, nothing remained of the elegant Flowing Wind and Xiangquan. The lake was gone, leaving only a dried bed overgrown with years of water plants.
He stood there silently. He had to find it.
They searched little by little. Even the smallest crevice had to be cleared of mud and examined. He wanted that red sandalwood box.
He too wanted to gamble once, to gamble on whether the box could still be found. Even if only traces remained, even if there were nothing inside but a decayed lump of mud, Li Congjia would have won.
Li Hongji was willing to admit defeat.
Everything depended upon Heaven’s will.
Sixth Brother. If Heaven wants you to win, then I will accept defeat completely.
At last someone knelt outside the pavilion holding a dark box still beaded with water, voice trembling. “Crown Prince…”
For a long time, Li Hongji did not move. He did not dare turn around to look.
Fine red sandalwood, soaked beneath water for years, had somehow retained its color. The box was still intact, only slightly loosened. Li Hongji was more nervous than he had been when receiving the title of Crown Prince. For the first time he understood that he was capable of such hesitation.
That single touch of blue-green possessed such power.
He opened it gently. The damp scent of wood rushed up toward him. But inside the box, there was nothing.
It had vanished long ago.
How could that string from years ago possibly stretch across the passing years? A foolish man only troubled himself. Had it ended in a fish’s belly, or dissolved into the water without a trace? Li Congjia, you still think of it, still remember it, and I am still searching for it.
We are both fools speaking of dreams.
Sixth Brother, the dream is over.
That morning, after staying awake all night, the Crown Prince stood amid the ruined Flowing Wind and Xiangquan and burst into wild laughter.
As that laughter rang out, the people at the Duke of Anding’s Residence had already finished their banquet.
Li Congjia was never easily drunk, and neither was Zhao Kuangyin. Yet that night, both of them became drunk twice.
At dawn, the fine rain finally stopped, the rising sun climbed into the sky, the wind swept the clouds onward, and a slightly drunken figure in Tianshui Blue, were you ever fortunate enough to see him?