Chapter 61 How Yunman persuaded the blockhead to wear the same haute couture style as Guangshen...
"It's not a wedding, not a sacrificial ceremony, not a coming-of-age ceremony, not a grand court assembly, so why are you wearing such a long-sleeved robe? It's too strange. Is it some kind of trendy style that's been popular in the palace lately?" Li Shimin asked with a look of disdain.
“Indeed! Just what I was looking for.” This tone of disdain did not deter the daughter of the former diplomat.
Changsun Qingjing began to adapt to the notion that the so-called "head of the family" possessed an imposing presence. In short, she had a way of dealing with people who were all bark and no bite and who were all bluster and no substance.
She wasn't annoyed, but explained slowly, "His Majesty once served as the Governor of Yangzhou, and was accustomed to the customs of Wu. He could even converse with the local scholars in Wu dialect. Whenever he reminisces about his youth, he wears wide-sleeved robes and orders his concubines to wear skirts in similar colors. Would you rather do as he pleases and flatter him a little?"
“The rope is too short to draw water from a deep well; I am powerless to do so!” Li Shimin said. “Weren’t these kinds of clothes banned during the Kaihuang era? Why is the evil atmosphere so rampant again now? A robe with a tattered skirt is a hundred times more comfortable than this.”
"As you instructed, Madam, I have changed the wide sleeves into pipa sleeves to make it easier for you to move around. Where is the demonic aura?" Ah Cai had spent two days of effort only to have her argument dismissed so thoroughly, and her vision was becoming blurry. She couldn't help but try to defend herself.
It had been a long time since any maidservant in the manor had spoken to the young master in such a tone, and Li Shimin was beginning to lose his temper.
Just as he was about to lash out, he thought to himself that A-Cai was a maidservant brought by his wife, and someone who diligently followed the instructions of her mistress. He feared that overstepping his bounds and scolding her would displease Changsun Qingjing. So he held his breath and said, "Thank you for your trouble, A-Cai, but unfortunately, I just don't like it."
“Ah Cai, if my husband doesn’t like it, then let’s put the clothes away for now…” Changsun Qingjing pretended to be regretful. “What a pity, this is the wide robe and overcoat worn by scholars of the Wei and Jin dynasties. Wang Xizhi wrote the ‘Preface to the Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion’ while wearing such clothes…” Changsun Qingjing looked at her husband, who had refused her repeatedly, with a regretful expression.
"Guanyinbi, you two are teasing me! Why didn't you say something so important earlier?" Li Shimin threw down the fruit and cheese and stood up, cheerfully extending his arms to call out to Acai, "I was blind. Upon closer inspection, there is no demonic aura, only celestial aura. Quickly change me into this. Where is the bronze mirror? I knew this dress had the air of a hermit! I'm tall and broad-shouldered, so a tall crown and wide belt would definitely look good on me."
Changsun Qingjing, his mouth full of cheese, struggled to swallow and cough, choking and wheezing. Acai, her worry turning to joy, excitedly helped her young master try on his new clothes. Chanyi's hand slipped, nearly dropping the bronze mirror to the floor. Liu Niangzi, who had come in to watch her young master try on his new clothes, pounded the table and shook her head, saying, "He still looks exactly the same as when he was three!"
After trying on clothes and eating and drinking, everyone was wide awake. Seeing that the young couple was still talking about things like "traveling incognito into the neighborhood" and "disguised visits to the market" that she only half understood, Liu Niangzi gave A Cai and Chan Yi a look and left the house.
It is obvious that Li Shimin himself did not have any particular likes or dislikes for these old Liang Dynasty clothes; his judgment was simply influenced by his opinion of the people who wore them in the past or present.
Of course, he was currently immersed in the famous purification ritual of the ninth year of Yonghe, and was reluctant to take off Wang Xizhi's ceremonial robes.
Changsun Qingjing trimmed a section of the rapidly flickering wick and moved the candlestick closer to Li Shimin. Aside from their wedding day, she seemed to have never really looked at him closely.
His appearance probably wouldn't attract the attention of a passing noblewoman, who would then present him with a fine horse as a lifelong gift; and if he were to open his mouth and speak, his extraordinary thoughts would be astonishing. Forget about fine horses, probably no one would even give him a papaya.
But the way he was now bent over his desk, like a jade mountain about to collapse, or a scholar wielding a brush at the Orchid Pavilion, with his wide sleeves hanging like clouds, his elegant demeanor truly captivated her.
"You weren't secretly watching me suffer while you were secretly laughing, were you?" Li Shimin continued copying "Dragon Boating" and "Spring Outing Song," which he didn't particularly like, and asked without looking at me. "You weren't particularly smug watching me obediently do the things you hate, were you?"
"No way! I was clearly correcting errors."
"You must have memorized that book, 'The Art of Husband Taming,' by heart, right? Why don't you give it to me?"
"Don't talk nonsense, I've never read such a book." Changsun Qingjing asked curiously, "What do you want with 'The Art of Husband Taming'?"
"I'm giving it to my newly adopted cousin as part of her dowry. When you're pretending to be someone's cousin, you have to do it perfectly so that the neighbors can't tell the difference."
"Hmm." Perhaps Yang Guang's poems were truly inferior, so exaggerated as to be unbearable to read, that he needed someone to chat about interesting things before he would bother copying them down. So Li Shimin let Changsun Qingjing interrupt.
"Over the years, you must have seen your cousins from the Dou, Dugu, Wang, and Yan families quite often, right?"
"I see them occasionally, but it's still more fun hanging out with my cousins. Why are you asking about them?"
A pang of bitterness welled up in Changsun Qingjing's heart. A bittersweet feeling churned within her the loneliness and dejection of a nine-year-old child, along with the few moments of joy she had ever experienced. She had simply wanted to ask if a young man of his illustrious family background, decent looks, skill in riding and archery, and literary talent, had never had a girl he truly loved. How had he managed to steer the conversation to his serious illness at the age of nine? And she had listened with such fascination.
"Am I such a stingy person?" Changsun Qingjing couldn't help but tease. "You're really narrow-minded, holding onto that half walnut for so many years..."
Li Shimin probably guessed what Changsun Qingjing wanted to ask, so he simply said it all at once: "To be honest, my cousins are indeed very beautiful, but they are also very noisy."
"Talkative?"
"It's so noisy, so clamorous, it keeps my ears from getting a moment's rest. Unlike you, who are always so calm and quiet."
Quiet? Changsun Qingjing couldn't help but chuckle; Li Shimin had steered the question in a strange direction. From childhood, her parents had praised her for being pitiful, her brothers for being lively, her maternal uncles and aunts for being intelligent, and Gao Shisi for being as pretty as a woman from the Gao family… In short, no one would consider "quiet" a virtue in her, because she was naturally active, and she made no attempt to hide her true nature in the Li family. Why did Li Shimin find her quiet?
"You're making that up!"
She would never ask him such a silly question again, because if she did, she would always get an answer that was even sillier than the question itself.
On the morning of the Lantern Festival, Qingjing crossed the Chanhe Canal to visit an old friend in Xiushanfang. After returning home, he remained depressed.
She climbed to the top of the four pavilions and looked out over Tongyuan City. Perhaps she had stayed there for too long, so Li Shimin also went up to the pavilion to see her.
A pungent smell of burning paper wafted over, and Ah Cai quickly threw the last piece of paper into the charcoal brazier.
"These are some old, unused items, like chicken bones, so let's just burn them."
Li Shimin nodded, without a doubt that she would lie to him: "How is your old friend?"
"She got married." A simple, unassuming statement.
"Isn't her husband treating her well? You've been sulking all this time," Li Shimin asked.
“No, that’s not it.” She removed her clothes, picked up the newly written poem, shook her head, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it into the fire. “Her family treated her the same way, it was just a matter of mutual benefit and getting what they needed. It wasn’t…it wasn’t the usual kind of marriage…”
Li Shimin paused for a moment, then understood the deeper meaning in Changsun Qingjing's words: "It sounds a bit heartbreaking. Doesn't she still have you as a friend?"
“Yes.” Changsun Qingjing smiled bitterly as he looked down at the withered tree in the courtyard, which was newly decorated with colorful silk. “I really don’t like this extravagant and hypocritical Eastern Capital. The palaces are elaborate and ostentatious, and the scholars are pretentious and affected…” because it is filled with the heavy style of Yang Guang.
Have you ever written new poems in the Yongming style?
“I’ve studied and written. Master Zhang said to write whatever I wanted, that the emperor wouldn’t imprison me for any of my poems… Master Zhang also said that with my limited literary talent, I could write whatever I wanted without any taboos. I sincerely recited poems about the bow I always carried with me. The bow was indeed a fine bow, but the poems were probably somewhat shameful. My poems often didn’t do justice to the subject matter, so it was best not to write them unless absolutely necessary.”
"Alas, I, along with several talented ladies from the Cui, Xue, and Yan families, studied Shen Xiuwen and Xiao Xie's Yongming poems. Today, I suddenly wanted to compose a poem about the poplar trees of the Holy Dynasty, but all I could write was insincere sentiment. So I burned this shameful new poem."
“I am deeply grateful for your consideration in every way.” He pulled his wife’s hands closer to the charcoal brazier. “But being overly wise and calculating, and meticulous in everything you do, is itself a form of harshness and self-criticism. For His Majesty, a person who is both loyal and simple-minded is safe enough. It wouldn’t be bad for me to play the role of a loyal and simple-minded person in front of His Majesty.”
Changsun Qingjing's vision cleared up: "You're right. A perfect plan can look too much like a trap. It's better to leave some flaws. We shouldn't appear too clever in front of the Emperor, making him feel like he's being schemed against or set in a trap. Let's leave the Emperor some room to be subtle and unpredictable."
This arrogant, often disdainful young girl began to understand why this eccentric, unconventional person could become the natural leader of the Five Mausoleums' notorious scoundrels.
Even if Changsun Qingjing hadn't made any preparations for the emperor's sudden visit on the Lantern Festival, Li Shimin should have been able to handle it with ease.
“Your sudden realization is spot on. For example, do you think I prefer the ‘wise and intelligent, beautiful and graceful’ girl in the marriage agreement, or the girl with withered grass on some mound in Beiman who keeps me company while I drink alone?” Li Shimin pulled Changsun Qingjing up to look at the scenery and asked playfully while leaning on the railing.
Author's Note: The notorious double standards are beginning to emerge.
Qingjing gently inquired about Erfeng's past romantic history and received the following answers: 1. She was sickly and was rejected by the girls. 2. She didn't get along with the girls and was rejected by them. 3. Only Brother Wuji was willing to take Erfeng as his girlfriend.
Parent-Teacher Meeting Mini-Theater:
Li Yuan: Please comment on my son's poem.
Zhang Houyin: He wrote it very safely.
Li Yuan: Teacher Zhang, I haven't read as much as you, could you explain it more clearly?
Zhang Houyin: Even his best poem wouldn't arouse the emperor's suspicion and land him and his whole family in jail... that level of skill.
A side story about falling ill at age nine (a discarded draft, unrelated to the main story):
In the winter of the third year of the Daye era, the first snow fell lightly.
A group of teenagers and children from the Li and Changsun families secretly took Li Shimin, who had just recovered from a serious illness, to an open space at the foot of Nanshan Mountain for a stroll.
While erecting windbreaks, they ordered servants to clear the snow, and personally made goalposts out of bamboo.
"You all enjoy playing Cuju (ancient Chinese football), what am I supposed to do?" Li Shimin asked, sitting in his sedan chair.
“What are you complaining about? You barely escaped with your life. Do you know how long you’ll be forced to kneel after everyone smuggled you out and went home?” Li Daozong complained.
"she?"
Changsun Wuji ran back to the carriage and carried a five- or six-year-old girl out of it. This must be his younger sister, Changsun Qingjing.
The girl was extremely restless; she spun around twice in her brother's arms before struggling to land on the ground.
"I want to play Cuju too!" Qingjing happily rushed towards the temporary field, but Wuji grabbed the edge of his cloak and dragged him toward Li Shimin.
"You, keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't run around."
"Why should I?" Qingjing retorted unhappily.
"He cracks the walnuts for you."
Qingjing's eyes darted around: "Deal!"
"I didn't even agree! You're going too far!" Li Shimin shouted.
Qingjing pouted at him, blinking her eyes as if to say, "Who cares about you?"
Li Shimin immediately became timid and shut up.
"What if he doesn't crack the walnuts properly and runs away halfway through?" Qingjing asked suddenly.
"Figure it out yourself." Changsun Wuji tightened his hair bun, took the hairball, and said impatiently, "If you let him get away today, I won't take you out to play anymore..."
After saying that, he ran into the field with the children of the same age from both families, ignoring the patient and the little girl.
The two people off the field were not idle. The one who had just recovered from a serious illness watched the football match and either cheered or complained, while the one who was disliked for being too young manually carried snow from a short distance away to build a snowman next to his sedan chair.
It seems like they forgot something?
Qingjing thought for a moment, then tapped the small table with a small hammer to remind Li Shimin to do serious business.
Li Shimin glanced somewhat displeased at the six-year-old girl in front of him who was interrupting his viewing of the game, and reluctantly picked up a hammer to crack walnuts...
The two spent a short time together peacefully.
Li Shimin suddenly threw off the felt on his knees and shouted, "That idiot Wuji, does he even know how to play Cuju? He can't even beat Daozong. I'll go replace him!"
He had only taken half a step when a large snowball with a walnut flavor landed on his head...
"My brother told me to keep a close eye on you." Qing Jing wasn't going to admit her mistake. After all, the person in front of her had broken their promise and wasn't properly cracking walnuts; they were trying to run away.
"You smashed my painstakingly crafted Weituo head with your head!" she angrily accused. "This ball in my hand represents the body of a Bodhisattva! And you've ruined it too!"
"You hit me first! How could you say such a thing? Is there no justice in this world?" Li Shimin threatened her, "Believe me or not, I can lift you up with one hand."
Qingjing took a half step back with her right leg and raised the snowball in her hand even higher.
Why is she taking it so seriously? Is it some kind of catastrophe that the sky is falling if Wuji doesn't take her out to play?
A few drops of walnut-flavored snow water fell onto Li Shimin's lips.
It's actually a little sweet.
He finally realized that the reason he almost provoked an even bigger snowball was that he had recklessly raised a walnut-cracking hammer at the six-year-old girl!
"Please forgive me! Please forgive me!" He placed the gilded bronze hammer back among the pile of walnut shells.
Qingjing also placed the snow-sculpted bodhisattva body back beside the palanquin.
The nine-year-old boy and the six-year-old girl stared at each other like that.
With a gasp from the children on the field, Maowan rolled right between the two.
"Throw it over here, we'll catch it!"
A group of boys bowed and clasped their hands in a gesture of respect towards Qingjing from a distance, begging for her help.
Li Shimin felt a little itchy feet.
Changsun Qingjing blocked his way and kicked the ball back onto the makeshift football field.
Another round of cheers erupted from the audience.
Changsun Wuji thought to himself, "Oh no, that kick was enough to confuse everyone! I won't bring her next time."
Li Daozong asked, "Why did your mother dress your younger brother in girls' clothes? He clearly kicks better than you."
While peeling walnuts with Qingjing, Li Shimin asked, "When will you come out next time?"
"have no idea!"
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