Drinking Alone Under the Moon -- Du Mubai
The moonlight in Chang'an always carried a contradictory mix of serene coolness and bustling noise. He sat alone in the pavilion in the back garden of the Du residence. On the stone table sat a pot of newly brewed pear blossom wine and two white jade cups, but he was the only one drinking from them. A night breeze blew by, and the copper bells at the corner of the pavilion tinkled softly.
During the day, he heard from Wen Jue that Yu Xuanji had fled to Lingnan with Mr. Wen. His heart felt as if a piece had been hollowed out; it didn't hurt, but it felt empty and adrift.
He picked up his wine cup, looked up at the bright moon in the sky, and drank it all in one gulp. The wine was clear and cool, with a hint of sweetness from pear blossoms, but as it slid down his throat, he tasted a touch of bitterness.
He couldn't help but recall the first time he met his junior sister, Yu Xuanji, in the study of the Wen family many years ago.
She was only fourteen years old then, slender but with an air of pride about her. He had heard her poem "Willows by the River," its verses fresh and vivid, and even more remarkable was the insight that transcended her age. He was sitting diagonally opposite her then, watching her slightly pursed lips and focused profile, and for the first time, he felt an appreciation for a woman that went beyond mere physical appearance.
On the day of Xuanji's coming-of-age ceremony, everyone presented their congratulatory gifts. Amidst the laughter of the crowd, he stepped forward, holding the zither case, and gently opened it. "I've heard that my junior sister is skilled at playing the zither. Although this 'Nine Heavens' is not a famous piece, its tone is still quite good."
He spoke of it casually, as if it were just an ordinary guqin that could be found anywhere. Only he knew how much effort he had put into finding a guqin whose shape and tone were worthy of her.
Seeing the hint of surprise and joy in her eyes, and the precious way she gently brushed her fingertips across the instrument, the secret joy in his heart surpassed all the hardships of his search.
For the next few years, they studied under the same teacher. He watched her eagerly absorb knowledge and saw the wisdom in her eyes when she debated with him, Li Yi, and Lu Jingxiu. How could he not be moved?
But Du Mubai, born into the Du clan of Jingzhao, was destined to use marriage as a bargaining chip to maintain his family's status and consolidate his power, leaving him with no say in his own life. So he disguised his feelings as a carefree and unrestrained playboy. He chose to stand at a safe distance as her fellow disciple, watching over her, protecting her, and occasionally shielding her from unnecessary trouble in his usual slightly sarcastic way.
I remember once, a young man at a poetry gathering criticized Xuanji's poem "Thoughts on Reading the Poems of the Three Sons," commenting with a flippant tone: "'The words 'knocking on nothingness' are ultimately too decadent and lack the dignified air of a noble family."
A slight silence fell over the room. He, who had been lazily toying with his wine glass, didn't even look up at the words, only chuckled lightly, "Brother Liu, your family has a long and distinguished tradition, so you naturally understand the meaning of 'honesty and integrity.' For example, your ancestor's skill in 'judging the times' has always been a model of honesty and integrity passed down through generations." Everyone present knew that this was the hidden pain of the other family's rise to power through speculation in chaotic times, and the young man surnamed Liu immediately blushed, but due to his status, he dared not speak out.
He then raised his eyes, his gaze sweeping over the other person's flushed face, and said casually, "Let's talk about poetry, why bring up background and cultural background?"
On the day Xuanji married into the Li family, he actually went. He didn't send a formal invitation, nor did he show his face; he simply stood at a street corner, mingling with the crowd of onlookers. He watched Li Yi, dressed in a scarlet brocade robe, ride past with great spirit; he watched the ornately decorated carriage with its green canopy slowly drive towards the Li family mansion; he heard the surrounding people discussing, "Scholar Li is taking a concubine, what a grand affair!" and praising, "This bride is so beautiful."
He stopped playing with the folding fan he habitually held, his fingertips turning white from the force. At that moment, he felt little emotion, but the overwhelming joy of the celebration was like a vivid painting etched into his heart. He stood silently for a long time, until the wedding procession completely disappeared from sight, before turning and leaving to blend into the bustling crowds of Chang'an.
Later, he heard about her life in Qiwu Pavilion, about the undercurrents between her and the Pei family, about her publishing "Journey to the West"... He would only occasionally mention "my junior sister Xuanji" when drinking with friends, his tone carrying just the right amount of pride and aloofness, as if he were really just a senior brother who was proud of her.
Later, Xuanji broke with Li Yi, left the Li residence, and went to Xianyi Temple. Although he felt regret, he was also relieved that she had finally broken free of her cage. He would occasionally go for a walk outside the temple and listen to the sounds of refined conversation and poetry coming from inside, knowing that she was at least living more freely than she had in the Li residence.
Until the storm suddenly broke out and Xuanji was imprisoned. He rushed back from Luoyang, anxious but knowing that he was of low status and his words carried little weight, and that direct intervention might backfire. He immediately went to his grandfather for help, but when his grandfather heard that he was pleading for a woman who had caused a city-wide uproar over her poetry, he immediately turned away and rebuked him for disgracing the family.
He knew his grandfather was old-fashioned and prejudiced against women who were talented and famous. Having no other choice, he could only kneel on the bluestone steps outside his grandfather's courtyard for three days and two nights. Even as his knees throbbed with pain, he refused to rise.
Finally, his grandfather softened, sighed, and ordered someone to help him up. He struggled to pull out the copy of *Red Star Over China*, which had been prepared beforehand and warmed by his body heat, and pleaded in a hoarse voice, "Grandfather, please... just look at it, just one look at her heart and soul..."
My grandfather opened the book with skepticism, his brow initially furrowed, but as he read on, his expression grew increasingly solemn. He was ultimately moved by the descriptions of the Western Regions, their rugged terrain, and the wisdom and talent for governing the world presented within. He closed the book and sighed deeply, "I never imagined a woman could possess such insight and courage… Li Yi's framing of such a woman is a disgrace to the scholarly community." Only then did my grandfather finally agree to intervene.
Afterwards, he used his connections to secretly investigate, and soon the clues pointed to Li Yi's trusted maid, Shiliu, as well as the outrageous verses that were not written by Xuanji and were used as "evidence".
The moment the truth came to light, a cold, menacing glint flashed in his smiling eyes for the first time.
He could accept Li Yi's rigidity and dullness, his jealous and resentful neglect, and even understand the balancing act between power and emotion that scions of noble families face. But he could not tolerate a man using such despicable means to frame a defenseless woman! This was not merely heartless, it was utterly shameless!
An unprecedented rage surged within him.
A few days later, on his way back from court, Li Yi was ambushed by several masked men at the entrance of a relatively secluded alley. The men were agile and had a clear purpose; they did not rob him of his belongings, but instead gave him a severe beating, with most of their punches and kicks landing on parts of his body that were not exposed to the light.
In the chaos, the leader whispered in Li Yi's ear, his voice as cold as ice: "Lord Li, you have framed women and children, and have wasted your time studying the classics. This beating is an act of justice. If you dare to lay a hand on Lady Yu again, next time it won't just be a few broken ribs."
He remained the dashing young master of the Du family, indifferent to the world's troubles. However, at a banquet with friends, upon hearing the news that Li Yi had been "accidentally" injured and asked for leave, his hand holding the glass became as steady as a rock, a faint, cold smile curving his lips as he tilted his head back and downed the wine in one gulp.
He can't give much, but at least he can get justice for her.
Now the dust has settled. She has finally broken free from all constraints and gone far away with the one who truly understands her.
He poured himself another glass of wine. Moonlight spilled into the glass, creating a cool, shimmering halo.
That's good.
He raised his cup once more, facing the bright moon and the distant, warm southern sky, and whispered a prayer:
"Junior Sister Xuanji, I hope that from now on you will be as free as the wind, and live in peace and joy."
Having said that, he drank the wine in his cup in one gulp.
His face regained its usual slightly lazy smile, and he strolled out of the pavilion, disappearing into the deep night of the Du residence.
The moonlight remained bright, quietly illuminating his departing figure, and also shining on a distant courtyard in Lingnan, where perhaps a beautiful woman was reading with her beloved under the lamp.
Each finds their place, each finds peace in their own corner of the world. Perhaps this is the best arrangement fate could have made.
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