Chapter 22
Gradually, more people began washing clothes by the river. A gentle breeze blew through Luzhou City, rippling the clear green water. Li Rong opened his father's letter and, as instructed, copied the accounts, giving a copy each to the shopkeeper in Luzhou and his mother. His father had been busy in Nanjing recently and might not be back for another month.
Li Rong sighed softly, looking at Su Si and Xu Shi busy in the courtyard. Su Si's marriage would probably have to wait until early summer. He ground ink and picked up his pen to write back to his father, saying that everything was fine at home and hoped he would return home to rest after his work. His mother and Su Si were waiting for him at home.
He folded the silk cloth and put it into a wooden box, then straightened his clothes and went to the shop to pay the bill. He also sent the letter to his father along with the newly arrived goods. The children running and playing on the long street all day long were mostly picking newly sprouted willow branches and playing in the alleys. He explained his father's intentions to Su Si and A Niang separately, and listened to A Niang's complaints. "Just think of Su Si as staying with A Niang for a while longer. I'll make him a few new sets of clothes in early summer so that the wedding will be more lively. A Niang won't have to work so hard as she has recently."
Xu, reluctantly comforted, rewrote the gift list and had her maid review it before continuing with her shopping. Su Si, though anxious, kept his composure. "Then wait until the master returns. I can stay with him longer." Li Rong poured him a cup of tea. "He's been by my side for so many years. A little time isn't a big deal. I'll write in mid-spring to ask if Father can come back. You can wait. I'm afraid Miss Jiang might be unhappy about this."
Su Si responded, pondering Li Rong's words for a moment, as if beginning to worry. Hastily bidding farewell to his young master, he hurried down the long street. Li Rong watched him hurried away, a laugh escaping his lips, thinking of the world's most beloved couple. He was afraid it wouldn't be his turn yet, so it was a pleasure to be a bystander.
He opened the doors and windows, letting the warm sun in to bask in the damp, winter-winter beams. He'd been feeling a bit tired since arriving at the shop that day, perhaps due to the early spring, so he'd ignored it. Li Rong had a servant brew a pot of hot tea. Sitting in the pavilion, he'd occasionally watch the birds and swallows fly by the wall. The clear chirping echoed in his ears, bringing a sense of prosperity.
The flowers and plants in the garden that my mother had planted last year had sprouted new leaves, crimson buds bent beneath them. The still-dry morning dew trembled, gleaming with the spring light. Unnamed wildflowers had blossomed first, dotting the garden like stars, emitting a faint fragrance that was carried by the gentle breeze.
Su Si had just returned from the long street. Before he even approached Li Rong, he heard his voice, "Young Master, look what I brought back." Li Rong glanced at the wooden box and cakes in his hands and chuckled, "They all look like gifts from Miss Jiang. How can you still remember me?"
Su Si shook his head and said no, "The cakes are mine, and the wooden box underneath is for you, young master. Why don't you guess what it is?" Li Rong saw him approaching and saw that it was an ordinary item. "I can't guess it."
He admitted it in response to Su Si's question. Su Si, perhaps having succeeded, smiled and handed the wooden box to Li Rong, "This was sent by Master Xue. I'm afraid you have forgotten about Master Xue?"
"Of course I won't forget Zhuozhi. I'll spare you this time. Go and have some cakes." Li Rong took the wooden box and gave the pavilion to Su Si. He went into the house, put the wooden box on the table and opened the lid carefully. It was probably the books and other things that Zhuozhi sent to him from Linyi. He didn't expect it to be sent so soon.
The wooden box indeed contained a folded silk cloth and a bamboo scroll. Li Rong first took the silk cloth on the top layer and unwrapped it. From the ink stains, he could vaguely guess that it was a letter from Xue Heng. He unfolded it along the folds and carefully read the words.
"Ziqu wrote to me personally. It has been several months since we last met in Shujun. I wonder when this letter will reach you. Is spring in the south always warmer than in the north? I have already been crowned in Linyi, so I will not go into detail about my itinerary. There are three thousand great ways, but keeping one's own way is the most difficult. Even if I hope that Ziqu can fulfill his wish, it is difficult for me to meet your high expectations. I am probably just an ordinary person in this world, and I feel that I have violated the teachings of my teacher, so I changed my name. We listen to each other and accompany each other[1]. If Ziqu calls me again, I will obey him.
By the time Ziqu sent the letter, Congzhi was probably already nearing Chang'an, passing through Yingchuan. He wondered if he could still find the old woman's thatched cottage. Ziqu, don't worry, don't worry. I'm going to Chang'an to visit an old friend of my father's. As an ordinary person, I'll probably have to climb the ladder of success in Chang'an.
Ziqu is in no hurry to reply. I will write to you again once Xue is settled in Chang'an. I hope you won't blame me. Even if you do, please remember to write back to me before we break up. Attached are the posthumous works of Mr. Xue, all of which are hand-copied. If there are any omissions, Ziqu can check them against the classics.
Xue Congzhi's Spring Book in Linyi.
Li Rong scanned the remaining words, then slowly closed his eyes, letting out a sigh for no one. Xue Zhuozhi seemed to have died on that spring night of that year. Whenever he thought of him again, he would call him Congzhi. Perhaps he had already seen some clues from his time in Yingchuan, or perhaps during those days in Chang'an when he was away, the only name he knew clearly was Xue Heng.
He recalled the nighttime discussion in Linyi, when he'd glimpsed Xue Heng through the mist of hot tea. He couldn't see through him, couldn't imagine clearly; a chance encounter was an acquaintance. Li Rong sat quietly at the table, folding the silk cloth neatly and placing it with the wooden box. After months of traveling together, he had found his own path, yet he was always worried about Xue Heng. His leisurely, carefree nature was clearly unfaithful.
Xue Congzhi, why are you asking this? He thought again. He had no reason to question Xue Heng in this way. According to the time, Xue Heng should have arrived in Chang'an. He wondered if Chang'an had seen the same heavy snowfall since he left. He also wondered how many so-called old friends and past events would be involved in the ladder to heaven that Xue Heng was about to climb.
Xue Zhuozhi, probably, after parting, rode away on horseback, secluded in the mountains and forests of some unknown place. Just one man, one horse, one world, no longer bound by the myriad families of the world. So, if they ever meet again, the old friend will still be the old friend, but he can only call her by her new name, never mentioning the past.
Li Rong exhaled, stifling the sigh that was about to escape his lips, and sorted the remaining silk cloth and bamboo scrolls in the wooden box. The familiar brushstrokes made it seem as if he were still discussing the lack of food in the granaries with Xue Heng. Almost two months had passed, and Xue Congzhi had already performed his coming-of-age ceremony, so there was no room for change.
His fingertips traced the wooden box, the rough lines revealing it to be from Linyi. He filled his cup with tea, no one around to drink with him. He tilted his head back, drank the entire cup, and looked to Xue Congzhi. "Get what you want, get what you seek. Don't go against the Way and follow the mundane affairs of the world. Don't be a vulgar person."
Li Rong collected the scroll Xue Heng had sent him, along with the letter, and placed it back where it belonged, stacking the wooden box next to his own. Perhaps the letter, still unsent from Chang'an, would reveal Xue Heng's explanation or recent situation. He worried about this, but knew there was nothing he could do, only adding to his worries.
He opened the window. The setting sun had already set over the city walls; in a moment, the night moon would be visible. Li Rong calculated the passage of time, wondering where Xue Heng was now. He shook his head slightly, swallowing a sigh. He simply bowed to the moon, hoping that, year after year, they might meet again. Then he could ask about these matters in detail and check on Xue Heng's well-being.
Li Rong felt groggy when he woke up to shower after a restless night. Su Si must have been out, and he didn't want his illness to spread to his mother. He asked a servant to help him call a doctor. The doctor took his pulse and said it was the beginning of a cold, prescribing some herbal remedies.
He drank the brewed medicine, his mouth filled with bitterness. He had become accustomed to it during his half-year study abroad, so he treated it as normal to prevent his mother from worrying about him. Xu had already prepared the betrothal gifts and was recently considering how to arrange them. The only thing left to do was wait for his father to return so that they could officially get married.
Su Si was busy with this all day, using the money he had saved over the years to make up the difference, helping his men with tailoring and alterations. Lately, he hadn't been around Li Rong very often. The flowers in the garden were all in bloom, a dazzling array of colors clustered together, reflecting the new growth and embellishing the spring sunshine.
Li Rong drank the medicine according to the prescribed dosage, gradually getting used to the bitter taste. But in the mornings, he still coughed violently. He covered his lips with a handkerchief, enduring the intense coughing fits. He slept restlessly all night, feeling drowsy. He simply stayed indoors and resumed reading the bamboo scroll.
Day after day, every day was like this. Li Rong woke earlier and earlier. He put on his outer robe, coughed, and pushed open the window. He heard a knock at the main door. The night watchman was probably changing shifts. He put on his outer robe and opened the door. He saw the shop assistant delivering an urgent letter. "Master... Master broke his leg on the way. He is now recuperating in the shop in Gusu."
Li Rong took the urgent letter and asked his servant to take the waiter to drink a cup of hot tea and rest, while he waited in the courtyard for A Niang to wake up before discussing the matter. Su Si woke up first and saw Li Rong, "Sir, you woke up so early today, what's the matter?"
Li Rong covered his sleeve with his hand and coughed. "Father injured his leg on the way, so he probably needs you to go to Jiangnan to help run the shop. If I can't stop Mother later, I'll feel more at ease if you go with her. But your marriage... I'm afraid it will have to be postponed."
Su Si responded, "Just listen to your instructions, sir. I will take good care of the lady and the master. But you have to take care of yourself." Li Rong smiled and nodded, saying that it was nothing serious.
When Xu heard the news, she was naturally furious. No matter how Li Rong and Su Si persuaded her, she was determined to go to the south of the Yangtze River. Because Li Rong had a cold, Su Si accompanied him and his mother on a boat from Luzhou directly to Gusu.
They packed their bags briefly, and Li Rong stood at the door, watching them board the carriage and drive away. He coughed into his sleeve, tapping his chest. Even though he was taking medicine, he felt a faint sense of his cold getting worse. He decided to see a doctor after he finished the medicine.
As the wheels rolled by, he could no longer clearly see A Niang and the others' carriage. He only hoped that his father was alright, and that A Niang and Su Si had a safe journey. Su Si's marriage... he wondered if it would go smoothly in early summer.
He closed the door and sat alone in the pavilion, pouring tea for himself. A gentle breeze blew through the flowers and plants in the garden, filling his sleeves with their fragrance, dispelling any remaining sorrow and bringing a gradual sense of warmth.
[1] From Shuowen Jiezi, the explanation of the character "cong".
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