Chapter 17

The moon in Chang'an gradually grew fuller as the chill wind intensified, its sharp cleft visible above the clouds. Its silvery light shone across the ever-lit city, and the long streets were always half moonlit and half bustling. Li Rong accompanied Su Si for four or five days before they finally walked through all the streets of Chang'an, though Su Si still couldn't quite remember the twists and turns.

Li Rong dipped his brush in ink and sketched the streets they had recently walked through, handing it to Su Si in case he had to go looking for the lost servant in the middle of the night. Xue Heng seemed to be still busy with his own affairs. All day, Li Rong could only hear the subtle sound of the door opening and closing in his dreams, but he did not bother him.

As the year drew to a close, the flow of merchants and travelers through the city became increasingly frequent. Even with the windows closed, Li Rong could still hear the clamor of the street, the occasional pedestrian startling their horses, and a cry of surprise echoing from outside. A few days ago, he and Su Si had already tried the city's famous restaurants. The food in Chang'an was salty but not overly spicy, a rare northern cuisine they had adapted to. They also occasionally sampled some new dishes from the south of the Yangtze River, which were almost as good as those in Luzhou.

It was past noon today, but when Li Rong opened the window, he saw a gloomy sky, as if shrouding Chang'an during the day. Fewer people were walking along the long streets than usual. Thick gray clouds hung low, and the usually fierce north wind had rarely subsided.

He turned around and lit the oil lamp in the room. With the reflection of light and shadow, the room seemed less dim. Then he sat down at the table to tidy up the wooden box that had previously contained silk cloth and ornaments. He folded the inside more neatly and wrapped the wooden comb and hairpin that he was going to give to A Niang in the middle.

Li Rong also unfolded each piece of ink-stained silk cloth. The dried ink left only a barely perceptible fragrance, mingling with the dampness of the wooden box. His fingertips traced the strokes, recalling the words he had written at his desk in the past. Or, during sleepless nights, writing down by lamplight the unresolved questions that had been nagging him, or during the day, jotting down the occasional conversations that resonated with him, or even the different perspectives he and Xue Heng had shared during their discussions in Linyi.

The oil lamp, seemingly affected by the chill near the window, burned slowly, its light dimmer than usual. Li Rong was about to close the wooden box and place it back beside his pillow when he heard a sudden, excessive clamor outside. He had barely reached the window when someone shouted, "It's snowing!" He hurriedly threw on his cloak and headed downstairs.

He had been thinking about the snow in Chang'an for too long. He had been thinking about the white snow in the north since he read in the classics when he was a child. When he started his study tour, he kept thinking about whether he could catch the first snow in Chang'an. After crossing the river and the mountain, he was hesitant about the path he wanted to take, as if all he could achieve in this year was to see the snow in the north with his own eyes. Now his wish came true, and it was the first snow in Chang'an at the end of the year, the snow in the capital of the Shang Dynasty.

Li Rong paid no attention to the cloak's string, letting the end of it dangle lightly through the air. He first looked up at the gloomy clouds. He could no longer discern who had called out the warning from the inn's entrance. It was no different from the white snow falling from mountaintops in the north, falling slowly from the clouds to the ground, much lighter than spring poplar catkins.

Only when the snow drifted into his eyes and he felt the sting of water did Li Rong wipe away the tears that had naturally flowed. He cupped his hands again, and the light snow fell into his warm palms, quickly turning into water and flowing down through the cracks. Su Si seemed to have just arrived, and called out with joy, "So, young master, you came down early. This is the snow I have never seen in Luzhou."

Li Rong simply nodded in response to his sigh, preoccupied with trying to catch the falling snow to prevent it from being crushed under his feet along with the mud and sand. But the snow quickly melted through his fingers, turning into an almost invisible stream. More people gathered on the long street, some sheltering under the eaves. Together, they watched Chang'an's first snowfall, the white dust carried down by the chill wind.

Then, those who had spent a long time in the north dispersed, each returning home to finish their day's business. Li Rong didn't bother to look at the surrounding scenery, and the sigh that escaped his lips turned into white mist. The snow seemed to be gradually getting heavier, and it stayed in his palm for a while longer. Li Rong carefully examined the white mass, which brought a slight chill, and finally turned into elusive water.

The snow falling from the clouds also fell more slowly, seemingly floating in the air. Li Rong stood quietly by the inn door, watching flakes of white snow fall to the ground. Passersby's trampling wouldn't have stopped the snow, but as it grew heavier, it blanketed the untrodden ground. The blinding white obscured the gravel on the ground and the railings between the building's thresholds.

He only knew that snow was beginning to blanket Chang'an, but he had no idea what he looked like standing there. His pale headband was covered in snow, and his dark hair was also stained by the snow, which melted even more slowly, turning his hair white for a moment. His cloak also caught the winter white, blending into one, echoing the dark lines outlined on it.

Su Si ran to an alley farther away, watched the children gathered there playing together, and squatted down to scoop up the thin layer of snow on the ground and piled it in his palm.

Li Rong paused for a moment before recollecting a couple of lines from a classic he'd been reading. "White cranes drinking from the snow, silver-clad horses." "Today, I finally saw them in Chang'an. I felt a certain allure about them that I wouldn't have been able to capture in a book if I hadn't seen them myself." The long street dwindled in number, all returning home to welcome the snow. Within a quarter of an hour, the long street was blanketed in white, like the peaks of a mountain.

Only when he could feel the chill of the falling snow did he wander from the street to the eaves to continue watching the falling snow. Inside, shop assistants bustled around, lighting the heaters in each of the rooms. Occasionally, someone hurried by, their footprints quickly floating on the snow, only to be covered again by the next snowfall. The sky and earth merged into a single, plain color, leaving only the moment of silence.

Li Rong, heeding the shopkeeper's instructions, returned to his room, avoiding the cold and blocking their busy schedule. The window, left open before his departure, allowed the falling snow to squeeze in. Snow was also thickening on the window bars, so he simply untied the string and hung his cloak by the stove to dry the damp spots.

Li Rong was reluctant to close the window, fearing he might accidentally brush off the light snow that fell on it. He stood a few steps away before looking out. From his perch, the snow blanketed Chang'an, veiling the entire bustling city. At noon, it dispelled the former prosperity, yet it was not overpowering. The white covering the roofs and terraces seemed to have fallen from the sky, like snow drifting upward from the ground.

He had no time to check the time on the clepsydra clock. He watched the first snow fall without wasting a single moment. It was the first time he had ever seen anything like it in his life. A few words in books and word of mouth were not as good as being there in person, seeing it with your own eyes and hearing it with your own ears. Only then could he experience it firsthand and remember what auspicious snow was like.

The charcoal fire in the stove burned brightly. Li Rong stared intently at the snow outside the window, which piled thicker and thicker, turning like goose feathers, then like fine salt. The clouds on the horizon also dispersed into a uniform white, blending with the world into a quiet painting, a short sentence that he chanted in his heart. Unaware that the door to the wing room was gently pushed open, he turned to look at the person who came in after hearing his own words.

"Ziqu, you're in a good mood." Xue Heng seemed to have just returned at this moment. Snow had fallen on his coat, boots, and even his brow. In the heat of the room, it melted into water and slowly dripped onto the floor. Although silent, it was more like a sound. This seemed to be the Xue Zhuozhi that Li Rong was used to seeing again, holding a jar of wine and teapot and calling him with a smile. "Winter in the north is always snowy and the roads are blocked. Thinking that Ziqu might never see such a scene, I took the initiative to buy the most suitable warming wine in the city. Perhaps Ziqu would like to join me?"

Li Rong naturally agreed and sat down at the table with Xue Heng. He watched as Xue Heng opened the jar and poured the wine into the empty pot, which he placed on the stove. The charcoal fire was burning brightly. He felt the chill he had acquired from sitting by the window for so long, but it was instantly warmed, giving him an indescribable yet comfortable feeling.

"Have you finished your recent trip?" Li Rong was silent for a moment before he thought of how to start. Then he saw Xue Heng taking off his cloak and warming his fingertips by the stove. He was still as leisurely as ever, as if there was only snow, white cranes, white horses, and Xue Zhuo in the world.

"Worldly matters are nothing more than money or old family connections, which have nothing to do with me. It's just that when I arrived in Chang'an, I remembered that I might have promised others before, so I asked them to meet an old friend." Xue Heng wiped the snow flakes from his brow with his sleeve. "Everything is complete, Ziqu, don't worry about it. The old friend of the old friend is not my old friend. If we talk about this matter in detail, the only old friend of mine in Chang'an is Ziqu. He is an old friend, but also a newcomer, a person with whom we have a connection."

Li Rong thought about this, but for a moment he had no response. He followed the meaning of the words but felt that his heart was not fully expressed. "Zhuzhi treats me this way, so I should treat Zhuzhi the same way. Even more, there are more than words can express. I hope Zhuzhi will understand."

Xue Heng smiled in agreement, saying that was the way it should be. He then reached out to check the temperature of the charcoal fire nearby and poured the wine into the teacups. "I just wonder if Ziqu, coming from the south, can handle the warm wine of Chang'an. I haven't tried it myself, but I've tried plenty of strong northern liquors. Don't blame me for being rude today, Ziqu."

Li Rong naturally smiled, taking it as a humble remark, and took the teacup and sipped. The wine, warmed by the stove, had a lingering aftertaste, but the aroma lingered later. It was probably brewed from soybeans, and it had a bitter taste compared to the plum wines of Jiangnan. It wasn't the sweet and sour taste he'd experienced. "As I've said before, it's indeed different from Jiangnan wines. After careful tasting, it has a distinct northern flavor. It's not a matter of whether I'm used to it or not. Drinking with you, I'll have no objection."

Having said this, Li Rong downed the warm wine in his cup, its scorching intensity burning into his throat. He could almost sense the northern wind, the distant mountains, and the lingering snow outside the window melting into the wine, its flavors complex and rich.

Xue Heng also raised his glass and finished his drink. "It will be a great pleasure to drink with Ziqu today. I hope that every year the snow will fall like this, and every year I can see my old friend, Li Ziqu, whom I met today."