The early summer sun, like molten gold, scorched the bluestone slabs in front of the General's Mansion, scorching even the moss in the corners into shreds. Leaning on a jujube-wood cane, the doorman, Old Zhou, squinted his eyes as he surveyed the vast crowd before him. From the morning till the evening, the line of people solving puzzles stretched from the vermilion-lacquered gate to the end of Suzaku Street. Scholars in long robes stroked their beards and shook their heads. Merchants in green turbans stood on tiptoe to peer. Even shepherds, leading milk goats, squeezed into the crowd, slips of paper with answers dangling from the goats' horns.
"Make way! Make way!" Chuntao pushed the crowd aside with a gilded round fan, her satin skirt sweeping across the scattered melon seed shells. "My young lady has issued an order. The riddle is 'Which came first, the chicken or the egg?' Anyone who wants to solve it, hurry up and get in line!"
These words were like a stone dropped into boiling oil, and the crowd erupted in excitement. Old Wang, the candied haws seller, banged his load against a stone pier, the clappers clapping loudly: "Hey! This is an interesting question! Which came first, the chicken or the egg? Even the Jade Emperor would be scratching his head!" The blind fortuneteller nearby suddenly put away his compass, twirled his goatee, and shook his head: "This is a debate about the origin of Tai Chi and the two opposites. It can only be solved by the Three Bonds and Five Constant Virtues!" Before he could finish his words, an old man carrying manure behind him chimed in: "What a joke! My hen laid three eggs yesterday!"
Inside Xiefang Courtyard, Liu was plucking the newly formed white hairs at her temples with silver tweezers, listening to a servant's report. Her jade armor crackled, crushing the candied fruit on a plate, sending amber-colored pulp splattering across her moon-white skirt. "What's Chen Weiwan up to now?" She frowned at the bronze mirror, her red gold headband trembling slightly with anger. "She's fooling people with this incoherent, illogical question. Do you think everyone in the capital is stupid?"
Shen Ruorou leaned over to her mother, the scabby scratches on the back of her neck faintly visible beneath her collar, the mark of shame left at the Spring Festival Banquet. "Mother," she lowered her voice, twisting her handkerchief between her fingers, "I heard the Seventh Prince was there yesterday, too, and stood in front of the palace gate for a full half hour!"
"The Seventh Prince?" Liu's eyes suddenly lit up, and the hand that was pinching her daughter's arm loosened. "Has he figured it out? Has he taken a fancy to our Ruorou?"
"No!" The servant covered his mouth with his hands and laughed so hard that his shoulders shook. "His Highness asked the young lady why chickens and eggs weren't as delicious as the sweet-scented osmanthus cake she made herself. The young lady laughed so hard that she doubled over and even gave His Highness a piece of cake!"
Inside the Tinglan Courtyard, an exquisite parrot cage hung beneath a wisteria trellis. Chen Weiwan was tying small slips of paper to the cage bars, each containing the answers of the scholars. Chuntao stumbled in clutching a stack of gilded visiting cards, nearly losing her jasmine hairpin. "Miss! Here come three more Hanlin editors! One says, 'Chickens lay eggs, eggs hatch chickens, and the cycle continues endlessly.' Another quoted the I Ching's 'Tai Chi gives birth to two opposites.' And yet another, even more remarkable—" she gasped, her eyes crescent-shaped, "says that in ancient times, the phoenix existed first, then shed its feathers and became a chicken!"
"Puff—" Shen Weiwan laughed so hard she nearly fell off the embroidery stool, the paper in her hand scattered all over the floor. "A phoenix turns into a chicken?" She rubbed her belly, which hurt from laughter, and tapped the parrot cage with her knuckles. "This imagination is even more greedy than Liu's! I'm afraid she's reading the Classic of Mountains and Seas as a recipe book, right?"
Chuntao massaged her back and caught a glimpse of the plain paper she was holding. It was a note from the Seventh Prince that morning, written in bold, unrestrained ink: "Talking at cross purposes." "Miss," Chuntao couldn't help but mutter, "what on earth do you want to do? If you keep this up, everyone in the capital will treat the General's Mansion like a monkey show!"
Chen Weiwan teased the caged parrot, watching it peck at the ink-stained words on the note with its sharp beak. The smile in her eyes gradually turned cold. "I just want to show Liu," she said, her fingertips tracing the carvings on the cage bars, her voice as soft as willow catkins. "You want to force a butcher or a cripple on me? You'll have to get past me first!" Remembering the misery of being forced into a relationship with a crippled scumbag in her previous life, her eyelashes trembled. "This time, not only will I prevent the marriage, but I'll also let the entire capital know that it's not anyone else's place to make irresponsible remarks about my, Shen Weiwan's, marriage!"
At three quarters past three in the afternoon, the sun was setting, and Liu dragged a fat man in a long silk gown into the crowd. This fat man, Qian Mandu, was a failed scholar she had hired for fifty taels of silver. He was said to be able to recite the Analects of Confucius by heart, but now he was sweating profusely from the squeeze, and his round belly stretched the collar of his gown like a watermelon.
"Get out of the way!" Liu pushed the others aside with her jade-studded nails, her shrill voice cutting through the clamor. "My master is here to solve the puzzle! Everyone, make way!"
Qian Mandu straightened his crooked Confucian scarf, cleared his throat, and deliberately drew out his words: "This question may seem simple, but it actually contains the great principles of heaven and earth!" He glanced at the onlookers, shaking his head and reciting, "The Book of Songs says, 'The black bird, sent by Heaven, descended and gave birth to the Shang Dynasty.' The bird is the ancestor of the chicken. Therefore, the chicken came first, then the egg!"
Suddenly someone in the crowd shouted, "The black bird is a phoenix! It's a far cry from a chicken!" Qian Mandu blushed and hurriedly came up with another explanation: "Zhuangzi says, 'Chaos gives birth to wisdom.' The chicken is yang, the egg is yin. Yang gives birth to yin, and yin gives birth to yang. Therefore, the chicken came first, then the egg!"
Chen Weiwan was eavesdropping on the second-floor window sill. She laughed so hard her shoulders shook at the words she heard. She deliberately leaned over and said in a sickly sweet voice, "Sir, you said Yang gives birth to Yin?" She waved the round fan in her hand. "Then the old hen in my chicken coop just laid an egg yesterday. Could it be that Yang was too strong? But when the egg hatched into a chick, it was Yin giving birth to Yang again. So who gives birth to whom?"
Qian Mandu was left speechless by the question, his face flushing red. After a long pause, he managed to utter, "Anyway, the chicken came first! Then ask about suicide!"
"You're wrong!" Shen Weiwan laughed so hard that she fell backwards. "My old hen said that the eggs she laid yesterday were the freshest!"
The onlookers burst into laughter, some even slapping their thighs. Qian Mandu was so ashamed that he felt embarrassed. Liu grabbed his ears and scolded him, "You're useless! You just fed the dog fifty taels of silver! You can't even tell the difference between a chicken and an egg!"
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