Elio’s Notes: The title, 此中有真意, comes from Tao Yuanming’s Drinking Wine, No. 5 (《饮酒·其五》), whose closing couplet says that “within this lies the true meaning,” yet when one tries to explain it, words are already forgotten. The line evokes a truth understood intuitively but difficult to articulate, fitting the chapter’s repeated contrasts between what the characters say and what their hearts actually reveal.
A thousand li away, someone stained the battlefield with blood.
Yet Phoenix Terrace remained unchanged after the apricot blossoms bloomed. Even Andong Temple, after all the turmoil it had weathered, still stood quietly north of the royal city of Jinling.
Amid the dull tolling of bells, a carriage approached from afar, heading straight toward Andong Temple.
Dragons curled around a pearl upon its insignia. The status of the person inside was naturally nothing like before, though there was still no extravagant display. A young page stepped forward to lift the curtain and assist him down, then followed him toward the temple.
His footsteps were light as he slowly climbed the steps one by one toward the temple gate. For once, the visitor had changed back into simple clothing, still in that faint blue-green shade. Piaopeng followed behind him. “Your Highness, why trouble yourself to come personally? You could simply have sent someone to inquire.”
He shook his head. He had been unable to find any free time that day and could not leave the imperial city. Only now, as dusk approached, had he finally managed to slip away. The final pattern carved into that sandalwood box had led him here.
The Rainbow Skirt and Feathered Robe Dance could be called a magnificent composition from an age of splendor. For it to have hidden itself inside a temple almost seemed like some hint from Heaven. No matter how fiercely a fire burned, in the end it became nothing more than a handful of cold ash.
What use was beauty capable of toppling kingdoms and cities? Better never to have encountered such beauty at all.
In his younger years, Li Congjia had once devoted his heart entirely to Buddhism. Yet even that could not withstand his being born amid worldly wealth and honor. The lament that Heaven had set his heart’s desire against the life he was made to live could only become lines composed beside a railing. So-called worldly fate did not always permit a person to choose.
The gaze of his double pupils remained unchanged, showing little emotion, utterly calm. He personally knocked upon the gate to show respect. After quite some time, a young monk finally came to answer, his face initially impatient. Perhaps people often disturbed them after the temple had closed. He poked his head out and waved a hand. “Come back tomorrow. Didn’t you hear the bells? The temple is already closed.”
Li Congjia smiled. “I have something I would like to ask the abbot. Might you make an exception?”
Piaopeng frowned and stepped forward. “Look carefully at who has come! Hurry and invite the abbot.”
Only then did the young monk properly examine their visitor. The man in blue-green robes had his hair elegantly bound with a golden ribbon, while his eyes looked nothing like those of an ordinary man. “Amitabha.” Only then did he realize that the visitor was the Sixth Prince, recently invested as the Prince of Wu. No one in the entire city would dare neglect him.
He hurried inside to announce their arrival. As Jinling’s foremost Buddhist temple, Andong Temple frequently dealt with members of the imperial family and noble houses. It had always been so throughout successive reigns. Cultivation was one matter, but various imperial ceremonies also required monks to perform rites and pray for protection, and the eminent monks of Andong Temple were customarily invited to officiate. Usually, however, the procession of carriages and attendants made the visitor’s identity obvious, and commoners nearby would not dare enter carelessly. Today it was already late, and the Prince of Wu had arrived unexpectedly, so even the abbot was somewhat puzzled.
Li Congjia was in no hurry to explain why he had come. He bowed according to Buddhist etiquette, pressed his palms together without speaking, then walked toward the central Buddha hall and personally offered incense.
When the incense caught, several thin strands of blue smoke rose.
The river rolled endlessly onward. How great a distance truly lay between south and north?
Someone inside a military tent was bleeding profusely, though his mind remained relatively clear. Several army physicians trembled as they tore open his clothing. Fortunately, his health had always been excellent. Wang Rao’s desperate sword thrust would have pierced straight through him had his armor not offered some protection.
The Emperor had personally come several times to inspect his condition, worried about the severity of the wound.
Zhao Kuangyin lay upon the couch looking helpless. Only after all the physicians finally withdrew did he breathe in relief. “What are you all afraid of? It was only one sword wound.” Guangyi remained beside him. No sooner had one blood-soaked cloth been set aside than he heard his brother say that. “Big Brother, rest properly and recover. Guangyi has already reported everything regarding Wang Rao to His Majesty. The matter will naturally be thoroughly investigated.”
Zhao Kuangyin had been wounded in the left side of his chest. Fortunately, in the rushed attack, Wang Rao’s blade had deviated from its mark and missed his heart. Otherwise, the consequences would have been impossible to predict. Medicine and bandages now tightly bound the wound, making movement difficult. Zhao Kuangyin frowned and touched the knot tied near his arm. “They tied this so tightly. How am I supposed to wield a sword tomorrow?” As he spoke, he reached for it. Guangyi hurried over to stop him. “Forgive Guangyi for saying what I should not, but Big Brother nearly lost his life today. At a time like this, can you not simply lie still?”
“News of my injury absolutely cannot spread. It would severely damage the army’s morale.”
“Yes.”
Seeing Zhao Kuangyin finally lie back down and abandon the idea of tearing at the dressings, Zhao Guangyi at last released a breath and sat beside him. What had happened today truly had frightened him.
He could not explain why. Wearing your bracelet somehow made it impossible to let go. Besides, if one day Zhao Kuangyin truly ceased to exist, if there were no longer anyone to rely upon, then what purpose would Guangyi’s existence have?
When Zhao Guangyi saw that sword pierce Zhao Kuangyin’s chest, he genuinely had not wanted anything to happen to him. He had always believed it was merely because this man could lead him away from Andong Temple, and perhaps if Zhao Kuangyin truly accomplished great things in the future, he too could seek something for himself. Yet at the instant between life and death, the human heart proved difficult to fathom after all. At least for now, Zhao Kuangyin was not someone who could simply fall.
Zhao Guangyi used the hand wearing the bracelet to light the candle. “Why did Big Brother suddenly turn around today? There is no one else here now. You may as well tell me directly.”
Zhao Kuangyin slowly closed his eyes. “What Wang Rao did happened too suddenly. I did not think about it. I merely turned around instinctively.”
Zhao Guangyi remained silent for a moment before speaking again. “Guangyi knows Big Brother must have had a reason. With Big Brother’s skill, you could never fail to distinguish advantage from danger so badly. Had you remained where you were, you would not have nearly allowed the blade to reach your heart.”
The man lying upon the couch, stripped of his armor and dressed only in simple clothing, shook his head slightly. Blood still faintly seeped through the bandages over his chest. “There was simply something I wanted to protect.”
“The thing Big Brother carried all the way here?”
He nodded but clearly had no intention of saying anything more.
Zhao Guangyi looked toward the object hanging at one side of the tent. It remained securely wrapped in cloth, as though more precious than even the sword.
Something stirred suddenly in his heart. “So the thing Big Brother holds in his heart is far more important than this bracelet.”
Those words forced Zhao Kuangyin to open his eyes. “It…” He had given one of the pair of wooden bracelets to Li Congjia only because of his desolation and helplessness that day, and because it had become part of his promise with Li Congjia. Seeing Guangyi now, he felt bitter and knew he truly was in the wrong. “Big Brother has indeed wronged you.”
“Big Brother has never wronged Guangyi. Not more than ten years ago, and not now. But Big Brother once taught Guangyi that a true man must remember what he seeks in his heart and must never allow other things to bind his hands and feet.” As he spoke, he rose and walked directly toward the hanging object. Zhao Kuangyin did not know what he intended and merely watched him in silence. Just as he was about to say something more, Guangyi abruptly reached up and tore down the object Zhao Kuangyin had so carefully secured. Zhao Kuangyin flared at once. “Guangyi!”
Holding the long, narrow object, Zhao Guangyi weighed it twice in his hand and understood most of it already. “Big Brother, forgive Guangyi’s discourtesy. I was merely too curious about what could distract Big Brother to this extent, enough that you would even…” His fingers moved, and he pulled away the cloth covering it. “…use your own body to shield it.”
A rolled painting.
Zhao Kuangyin’s gaze locked upon it. In the end, both men sighed.
At Andong Temple, the incense in Li Congjia’s hand suddenly went out. He lit it again and bowed before the Buddha. In truth, what people sought was merely peace in this present life. Ascension and transcendence were not really what ordinary mortals desired.
His wish was actually very simple. It was nowhere near grand enough to bless the mountains and rivers, nor did he dare hope for protection for himself.
In this life, I ask only that although our paths divide between south and north, both hearts may remain at peace.
Flowers in Jiangnan, snow beyond the northern frontier. The world holds too much feeling for longing to endure.
If we do not meet, we do not remember.
“Abbot, have you ever heard of the surviving work from the former dynasty, the Rainbow Skirt and Feathered Robe Dance?”
Master Jinghui stood beside the Buddha statue while wavering golden light fell softly across him. He too had been greatly troubled by the recent entanglements and conspiracies involving members of the imperial family. Having no desire for worldly things, he did not wish to say much. “A Buddhist temple is a place of purity…”
“Indeed, and I should not disturb it. But I received information that fragments of the score may have been found during the wars and hidden within this temple. That is why I came to trouble you.”
“I have seen those fragments with my own eyes. Many years ago, a child who found his way to this temple obtained them by chance. The score could hardly be placed in the scripture repository, so I paid it little attention.” Abbot Jinghui nodded slightly. “Barring some accident, it should still be with one of the young people who grew up here. Unfortunately, he disappeared not long ago after leaving the temple.”
“I see…” Although disappointed, Li Congjia showed little of it. “May I ask that monk’s Dharma name?”
“He never formally received the precepts, though he grew up in this temple from childhood. He still uses his secular name.” Abbot Jinghui pressed his palms together and spoke the name. “Jiang Zheng.”
So he had still arrived one step too late. Had he discovered the information upon the box earlier, perhaps he could have found the score and given Ehuang some peace of mind.
There was nothing to be done. Li Congjia could only leave.
After they boarded the carriage, Piaopeng remained unwilling to give up. “How far could someone from a temple possibly go after leaving? Even if he went wandering, he shouldn’t be impossible to find.”
Li Congjia did not think much further about the matter and merely repeated the name. “Jiang Zheng? An ordinary enough name.”
“Ordinary or not, we can simply send more people out. I think he must have been suffocating in that temple. He stayed there so long without ever taking the precepts. Perhaps he was waiting for the day he could secretly take the score, escape, and trade it for some position elsewhere.”
Li Congjia thought that although Piaopeng was still young, there was some sense in what he said. If casually sold, those fragments could fetch a thousand pieces of gold. Perhaps that man truly had found an opportunity to escape and seek another path for himself. In that case, things might actually be easier. “Piaopeng, when we return, remember to give orders that people everywhere keep watch. If anyone finds a young man called Jiang Zheng carrying some unusual treasure, bring him directly to me.”
“Yes.”
After some time, the person sitting within the shadows of the carriage spoke again. Night had grown deep, and the carriage traveled through Jinling’s liveliest flower-lined streets. In crowded singing houses, lamps were turned up and wine poured as yet another song began. “Father summoned me into the palace early this morning over some matter. I did not have time to return and check on her. Is Madam feeling any better?”
“The Princess Consort… Her cold from several days ago has improved considerably, but Liuzhu says her mind still seems unsettled. The physician instructed that she continue taking medicine to calm her nerves, but when Liuzhu brings it inside, the Princess Consort refuses to drink it.” These days the servants had grown accustomed to every faction watching the Eastern Palace closely, so they had adapted quickly to the new form of address. Li Congjia himself hardly cared what they called him. “Speaking of it, I merely stayed temporarily in the palace that day. When I returned, Liuzhu said the Princess Consort had fallen ill. None of you knew how to take proper care of her?”
Piaopeng looked somewhat wronged. He stared at the soft curtain beside him, uncertain how to explain. “The physician said she caught a chill, but in weather like this in the fourth month, I don’t see how that could happen. Liuzhu also said that day…”
Li Congjia had already become tired and was leaning against the carriage wall with his eyes partly closed. Hearing Piaopeng’s voice grow quieter and quieter, he straightened again. “Just tell me honestly. What happened that day?”
“Yes.” Piaopeng considered it repeatedly and decided His Highness ought to pay more attention. The Princess Consort had been unsettled lately. “Piaopeng also wondered how she could suddenly catch a chill, so I asked Liuzhu privately. She said that night, when Your Highness was attending a banquet in the palace and would not return, she and a younger maid were taking turns keeping watch in the outer room. Later, she saw that several of the maids could barely keep their eyes open, so she sent them all away to sleep. She rested for a moment herself, then suddenly heard the Princess Consort say something inside. She could not make out the words, so she got up and went in… and unexpectedly… the third watch had already passed, yet the Princess Consort was still awake.” Li Congjia frowned, his expression becoming grave. Piaopeng once again hesitated, uncertain whether to continue.
“Go on.”
“Liuzhu thought it strange and urged her to sleep, but the Princess Consort merely stared at the incense burner and said the incense had burned out. Liuzhu did not think much of it and went to fetch more fragrant wood. The red sandalwood inside the room happened to be exhausted, and the Princess Consort insisted upon having only red sandalwood, so Liuzhu went farther out to get some. But when she returned, the Princess Consort had disappeared.”
“Why was this never reported to me?” Li Congjia’s voice noticeably dropped.
“Liuzhu did not dare cause alarm. She hurried out to search and eventually found her in the rear garden. No one knew what was wrong with Madam. Her expression was strange at first, and Liuzhu had to plead with her repeatedly before persuading her back inside. The next morning, the Princess Consort ordered everyone not to speak recklessly and absolutely forbade them from telling Your Highness. Liuzhu did not dare say anything, but perhaps the night wind was what made her ill.”
The horses moved gently along. Outside, amid the dazzling streets, the occasional cry of vendors could still be heard. Fragrance and crimson drifted through a sky full of spring; flowered dragons coiled upward toward violet clouds. Several young women wandered arm in arm through the night market. Catching sight of the splendid carriage passing nearby, they could not resist looking twice, rouge and watery color spreading through the scene. Such was a Jiangnan night in the fourth month. Inside the carriage, shadows gathered heavily around the man whose dark eyes could not be read.
Elio’s Notes: The spring-night line describing fragrance, crimson, and flower-dragons rising toward violet clouds comes from Tang poet Li He’s Shang Yun Yue (Music of Ascending the Clouds). The poem’s fantastical courtly imagery heightens the brilliance of Jinling’s night scene before the narration turns back inward.
The dragon-patterned jeweled tassel swayed irregularly, suddenly disturbing his thoughts.
He reached out and caught it.
“Ehuang…” He softly spoke her name. He knew she had been carrying far too much, yet unfortunately he had no way to free her from it. Long ago, he had lost the standing to do so. “When we return, summon Liuzhu.”
Piaopeng answered, and silence returned.
Inside the northern army’s tent lay the splendor of a single painting.
Zhao Guangyi studied it carefully. The figure truly seemed too extraordinary to belong to the ordinary world. He remembered the back he had seen beneath Phoenix Terrace, every movement possessed of an elegance from which it was difficult to look away. The painting too was exceptionally fine, yet the eyes were conspicuously absent.
“Big Brother, it’s only a portrait.”
Zhao Kuangyin laughed. Seriously wounded and lying upon the couch, he looked toward it from a distance. Beneath the lamplight, that trace of blue-green could still be seen, and the entire gray, somber military tent suddenly seemed quiet and remote. The scent of red sandalwood seemed to acquire a soul. “It is only a painting. I simply… suddenly didn’t want it destroyed.” He looked toward Guangyi. “Bring it over so I can see.”
The man standing beside it suddenly moved his fingers and rolled the painting shut. “You didn’t want the painting destroyed, so destroying the bracelet was acceptable?”
“Guangyi, there is no need for this. You know Big Brother did not mean that.”
“You didn’t?” Zhao Guangyi carried the painting over but refused to hand it to Zhao Kuangyin. Instead, he sat down on a nearby chair. “This bracelet was the proof by which Guangyi and Big Brother recognized one another. Moreover, Big Brother knows perfectly well that these bracelets are no ordinary objects, yet you casually gave one away to someone else.” He shook the scroll slightly. “Is the person in this painting truly that important?”
Zhao Kuangyin said nothing.
“Marching and fighting a war, yet Big Brother lets one painting bind his hands and feet. In that case, Guangyi will help Big Brother…” A candle flame flickered upon the table nearby. Zhao Guangyi raised the painting and slowly moved it toward the flame. Zhao Kuangyin was nowhere near as furious as expected. He lay there, gravely wounded and unable to move freely, his eyes instead filled with weary reflection.
He remembered Phoenix Terrace. The greatest defeat of Zhao Kuangyin’s life was probably spending that entire night waiting alone at Phoenix Terrace.
Sometimes he asked himself why. There was no answer. When Wang Rao’s sword entered his body, Zhao Kuangyin felt nothing particularly remarkable. He merely began, somewhere in his heart, to admire Li Congjia.
He had turned around purely on instinct because he did not want the painting destroyed.
A person like Li Congjia, with his faint colors and gentle smile, leaping from a high tower, a flask of wine, a fishing line, the red-sandalwood scent beneath the tree that night… All of them were things that could never be grasped. And somehow, things that could not be grasped were capable of controlling the human heart.
The painting moved cun by cun toward the flame. Zhao Kuangyin’s expression did not change, but he finally spoke. “Guangyi, don’t be willful like you were when you were little. Bring the painting here.”
Zhao Guangyi’s hand paused briefly, but he still shook his head.
“It’s only a painting. It represents nothing. Burning it cannot destroy anything.” Zhao Kuangyin slowly braced himself against the side of the couch and began to sit up.
Guangyi’s hand did not stop. The flame suddenly licked one corner of the scroll.
Then the candle went out.
Something had struck it.
Zhao Kuangyin had merely moved his fingers. Seeing the flame extinguished, he said, “Guangyi, I know you’re worried about Big Brother. But this is not really about a painting.”
Zhao Guangyi lowered the scroll and picked up the object Zhao Kuangyin had thrown to extinguish the flame. It was half of a shattered Buddhist bead. His eyes tightened sharply, and his fingers closed around it.
The man upon the couch had aggravated his wound and was in some pain, yet he acted as though it did not matter, even thumping his chest twice. “Wang Rao really did put everything into that strike.” Seeing that Zhao Guangyi had fallen silent after recognizing the bead, he laughed. “Guangyi, I know what you are worried about. But you and I are flesh-and-blood brothers. Big Brother searched for you for so many years, and now we have finally been reunited. What Big Brother promises, Big Brother will accomplish. In the future, neither of us will live beneath another man.”
“But this painting will bind your hands and feet.”
Zhao Kuangyin lay down again. He had originally closed his eyes, but after some time he opened them and looked toward him. “This is the Buddhist bead in which you hid poison in Luzhou. Do you remember? In the kitchen of the household where we temporarily stayed.”
Zhao Guangyi could only nod. “I…”
The half-lotus was unmistakably carved into the bead, the symbol of that conspiracy.
“In chaotic times, the human heart is difficult to judge. Big Brother has no grounds to blame anyone. We have both done things that disregarded the other.” Zhao Kuangyin spoke slowly. “I gave one bracelet away, while you once hesitated over whether to follow Wang Rao’s scheme. In that sense, we are even. But from this day forward, something like this will never happen again.” By the end, his tone was almost that of a sworn oath.
Zhao Guangyi picked up the painting, walked over, and placed it beside Zhao Kuangyin’s pillow. “Big Brother, Guangyi only wanted to know how much weight this painting carries.”
Zhao Kuangyin lifted it lightly in his hand and smiled with considerable self-mockery. “Not as much as one bracelet.”
This painting had been made for Li Congjia by his elder brother. Yet whatever lay in Li Hongji’s heart could never compare with the bond of flesh and blood between the two of them.
Zhao Guangyi turned away to pour him wine. “Then what about the person inside the painting?”
With his back to the couch as he poured the wine, he did not see the sudden darkness that crossed Zhao Kuangyin’s expression. It lasted only a fleeting instant.
“Could he be worth the same as the mountains and rivers?”