Chapter 18
Li Rong also smiled and agreed to Xue Heng's words, "My wish is also my wish. Even if we can't see each other every year in the future, I will never forget to exchange letters. It can be regarded as a memory of this day every year."
Xue Heng lifted the kettle and refilled the teacup. The wind outside blew some snowflakes down from the window, which quickly melted on the wooden planks on the floor. Li Rong drank much more slowly than before, savoring the warm wine sip by sip.
He gradually grew accustomed to the bitter aftertaste, and so began to notice its lingering quality. The burning sensation upon entering his throat seemed to draw out a hidden passion. Xue Heng began to slowly recount his recent experiences in Chang'an, reciting a story told by a storyteller in a teahouse, and recounting anecdotes of encountering snow in Linyi in previous years.
Li Rongjing listened to Xue Heng's unhurried voice, picked up the wine pot, poured himself another glass of wine, and continued drinking. Even in Luzhou, he only drank the fruit wine brewed by his mother at family banquets. The sour and sweet wine was far less intoxicating, so he usually only took a small sip out of courtesy.
The north wind imprisons the winter city all year round, the north snow blocks the road for returning travelers, and the north wine is far more intoxicating than he imagined.
Li Rong propped his head up with his fingers, his wide sleeves falling on the table. He thought it was probably the chill of standing in the snow that had made him so dazed. He watched Xue Heng sip his teacup after cup of wine. The voices in his ears gradually faded, and only the words could be discerned: Chang'an... Linyi... old times. All he could hear now was Xue Heng's usual laughter.
He then smiled, pointed at Xue Heng and said frankly, "I'm afraid I was talking nonsense just now. It turns out that I was drunk first." He himself felt the heat from the stove, and gently pulled up his collar to see that the charcoal fire was burning more vigorously. This time he heard more clearly. Sitting opposite him, he seemed to be unable to see Xue Heng's face clearly, but could only hear his voice.
"Of course I'm awake. I'm not drunk. It's just that Ziqu can't handle the strong liquor from the north." Li Rong was stunned for a moment, then heard the teasing in the words and wanted to stand up to prove his innocence. "Whether I'm drunk or not, my self-affirmation doesn't count."
He used his fingertips to lift himself up, and was about to argue that it was Xue Zhuozhi who was drunk first, but he stumbled. Li Rong then realized that he had probably spoken out of turn while drunk, and Xue Heng stood up and helped him up first.
The lingering effects of the alcohol had left a faint flush on his face, and Li Rong was even more groggy than before, yet he remained silent, fearing another bout of speechlessness. He wondered how much more ridiculous things he would cause after drinking. Xue Heng didn't force him to finish the drink. He helped Li Rong onto the couch, removed his shoes and socks, and tucked him into bed.
Li Rong lay on the couch, closed his eyes, and slowly fell into a drowsy sleep. He let Xue Heng drink up most of the remaining wine in the jar. He didn't know when Xue Zhuozhi walked out of the room. He only felt that the charcoal fire in the stove seemed to be burning warmer than before.
Snow was still piled up by the uncovered windows, and the north wind roared past with all its might in the middle of the night. The moon tonight was tightly covered by clouds, and the lights in the city reflected the white of the snow, still silent.
When Li Rong awoke, the usual clamor of Chang'an had returned to the outside of his window. A deep sleep had completely dispelled the drunkenness, but he couldn't recall what he had said to Xue Heng while he was drunk, nor could he recall what Xue Heng had said to him. He just couldn't help but laugh as he thought about how he had pointed at him and said he was drunk first. He probably didn't have the face to go see Xue Heng today.
He had a vague idea of how he'd fallen asleep the previous night, only thinking he'd stumbled back onto the couch and fallen asleep under the covers. The charcoal fire, having burned all night, was now only faintly warm. Li Rong added new charcoal and waited for it to start anew. The snow-soaked water on his cloak had completely dried. He tied the knot and walked to the window to look out.
My fingertips naturally touched the snow that had almost frozen overnight. The cold touch was a novelty, but I still couldn't bear to destroy it. The vendors on the long street set up their stalls in front of the eaves, deliberately avoiding the dripping eaves. In the early morning, most of the pedestrians strolled around wearing different styles of cloaks. The waiters' calls were still loud.
The snow in the low-lying areas was almost knee-deep. Most shopkeepers had their employees shoveling away the thick snow when the shops were quiet. Li Rong didn't know when the snow outside the window had stopped falling. The white snow that covered the long street last night was left with the messy footprints of people walking around. The frozen water quickly melted into water under the bustling city.
Su Si knocked on the door and walked in. "Young Master, you've woken up just in time. I was just walking around town. Many shops have set up heaters and are selling roasted meat since it's snowing." He unwrapped the oil paper, and the aroma of burnt meat, mixed with the smoky charcoal, drifted into the room. Li Rong went to have the waiter replace the tea set, first putting away the teacups that had been used to temporarily hold wine last night.
Su Si was just about to take the chopsticks and hand them to his master when he heard the order, "Send some to Zhuozhi as well, you go." According to habit, the errands should be left to him. Although he didn't understand why Li Rong added half a sentence today, Su Si still divided out a portion and brought it to the opposite wing room.
Li Rong sat quietly to the side, waiting for the waiter to change the tea set and fill the cups. "Master Xue hasn't woken up yet, but I can smell alcohol in the room. I'll put the meat on the table next to the stove. Master Xue should be able to see it when he wakes up." Su Si returned very quickly, sat at the table, picked up his chopsticks, and tasted the roasted meat.
Li Rong nodded slightly and tasted the meat himself. The meat, still warm, had a slightly spicy and salty taste. He took a sip of hot tea to soothe his throat and continued to share the food with Su Si.
For several days, the heater in the house was hardly ever extinguished. The heavy snow seemed to have only stayed that night, and the snow accumulated in the long streets and alleys had frozen into ice. There were always children playing nearby, but the roads were always slippery.
Li Rong had been reluctant to close the window, but by the time he woke up that morning, the ice had melted into water. There was only a thin layer of cloud in the sky, and Chang'an, under clear skies, was even more lively than usual. With the end of the year approaching, innkeepers had already hung peach charms on their doors, visible as they entered and exited the inn.
Counting the days, they'd been in Chang'an for nearly half a month. At this time of year in previous years, my father would have finished his shop, bought food for the end of the year, and prepared to close the shop. My mother would usually go into the kitchen and cook some Luzhou specialties. But since I'd left home this year, I wondered if everything was okay at home.
The moon hung bright and round in the sky above Chang'an. They journeyed from Luzhou all the way south to Linyi, finally heading straight for Chang'an. Li Rong thought that he had already completed most of his travels, with the only place he had yet to visit being Shu. When traveling far away, the custom of staying up late on New Year's Eve was no different anywhere. Coincidentally, the heavy snow outside Chang'an had melted after the clearing, leaving the roads open and allowing for a constant flow of merchants and travelers.
He told Su Si about his plans and then asked Xue Heng if he would like to continue traveling with him to Shu at the end of the year. Xue Heng smiled and said he had some free time, so he agreed.
They agreed to leave the city at sunset the next day; Chang'an was only two days' journey from Shu. Li Rong closed the window and lay on the couch. Since the snow melted, the stove in the house had only been lit at night. The warmth from the charcoal fire made him drowsy. He closed his eyes and thought about his last night in Chang'an.
The lights of the street streamed into the room through the window paper. The crowds continued to bustle, and the north wind whistled without ceasing. Thinking carefully, I had also been in Chang'an for over half a month. In Chang'an, I felt the prosperity and peace of a capital city. This peace and happiness was not entirely the same as the tranquility of the south of the Yangtze River. At night, the city was brightly lit, and merchants and students from all over the world came and went. They were intoxicated by Chang'an's prosperity, intoxicated by Chang'an's peace, and also intoxicated by the dream of a yellow millet in the night.
Li Rong thought this, feeling he would ultimately disappoint his father's hopes. He reveled in Chang'an's first heavy snowfall of the year, intoxicated by the warm wine brewing in the scorching stove, but he dreaded the prospect of pursuing fame and fortune in such a place. He didn't envy the high-ranking officials residing in the mansions, the closed red gates, the luxurious carriages, and the quiet crowds passing by.
After half a year of studying abroad, he had a clear idea of the path he wanted to take. Li Rong sighed softly. Perhaps he had the opportunity, but at most he could govern a county. Any more would only add to his melancholy. He couldn't bear the gloomy stares, and he didn't want to continue to argue about whether there was grain in the warehouse.
He simply didn't want to toss and turn at night, constantly thinking about every trivial and important matter in the land he ruled. Nor did he want to be trapped in the vast unresolved truths and anxiety in his dreams. Li Rong turned over and lay flat on his back, enjoying the night's relief. The mediocre often trouble themselves. He was so lost in the great truth. Why not just focus on small things, manage his family and teach his people? That would be worthy of the thousands of words of the sages he had read over the years.
When the next full moon comes, I'll be able to see the moon in Luzhou. I'll also be able to sit at the table with my mother and father, enjoying the New Year's family feast, telling her over and over again about the red maples of Suzhou, the towering pavilions of Jinling, the pheasant soup of Xuzhou, and the heavy snow in Chang'an. When I play chess with my father in the pavilion, I'll reiterate the lessons I've learned from my travels. He might scold me, but then he'll understand his life's aspirations and stop pursuing his extravagant dreams of rapid advancement.
I wonder if the moon in Luzhou differs from the moon in Chang'an, but Luzhou nights are always silent, with only the occasional gong beat and scattered bird calls. Li Rong closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep. He had seen the rolling mountains of the north and the vast expanse of snow blanketing Chang'an. He began to miss the gentle breeze in Luzhou and the biting dampness of the winter rain, the gurgling brook and the early morning cries of swallows.
He also missed it a little. He missed the cakes that his mother would cook for him when she had time, he missed the feeling of reading under the eaves when it rained, and he missed Luzhou, a peaceful city that flowed as slowly as water.
It was already past midnight, and tonight was to be another dreamless night. The bright lights of the city dimmed, though the faint chirping of birds and swallows could still be heard on the streets. The scent of cosmetics and alcohol filled the air throughout Chang'an. The merchants and travelers who had been toiling day and night rested, and the weary horses knelt in the stables and fell asleep together.
Only the snow remained, trickling down from the high platform, drop by drop, onto the now-restored street. Its sound was not unlike the ticking of a clepsydra clock in the house, a lingering reminder of Chang'an's first snowfall, and of the days that followed.
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