Chapter 30 When the two of you sleep together, I feel uneasy…
“Ah Yuan, I apologize to you.”
"For my own sake, I am self-righteous."
"Because I don't understand you."
"For me, high above."
Lin Yuan paused slightly and pushed Xiao Xun's hand away.
His arm remained motionless, resting on Lin Yuan's waist, causing her a sharp, inexplicable pain.
"And also, the coriander from last year's New Year's Eve."
He let go of her hand.
The faint smell of alcohol lingered in my ears until dawn the next day.
“Master He, are you sure you don’t need to lie down on the couch for a while longer? It’s still early, just past cockcrow.”
Lin Yuan rested her chin on her hands, looking with concern at He Ji, who was holding two books in his arms. At first glance, his eyelids seemed to be stuck together, and upon closer inspection, one could not even see the slits of his eyes.
He Ji shook his head from side to side, but because his head was too heavy, it wobbled like he was pecking at rice: "No need, no need, I just took some medicine to wake myself up, I'm in good spirits."
Lin Yuan was skeptical. If she believed that He Ji was "in good spirits," then she would be questioning He Ji's medical skills.
Of course, his medical skills are beyond question, but perhaps he was blindly brewing the medicine and mistakenly used cinnabar, a sleeping pill, instead of styrax pills.
"Does it have to be this early in the morning to talk about poetry?" she asked hesitantly.
"Yes. There are rules about what poem to recite at what time of day, and there is a certain artistic conception to it. Once the artistic conception is there, a poem can be easily remembered, and it will be etched into your heart."
He Ji's lips curled up slightly, suppressing his own thoughts.
He got drunk yesterday and slept until midnight.
Day and night were reversed, and as I tossed and turned, unable to sleep, I saw the figure of a woman floating in the window.
Looking through the snow, I saw that it was Granny Wang, who had taken away a pile of chicken feathers under the cover of night.
To pluck chicken feathers and make chicken soup, the old woman got up earlier than the chickens. He Ji sat up from his bed, inspired by this to rise with the same determination as the roosters.
We can't let Grandma Li and Grandma Wang get there first and drag Lin Yuan to the kitchen to help.
Although, Lin Yuan's chicken soup was indeed delicious.
Compared to what was done by Aunt Li and Aunt Wang alone, it added the touch of elegance and charm.
He smacked his lips with lingering satisfaction. If the peppery aroma on his lips and teeth came from the pepper wine, then the subtle fragrance of osmanthus must have come from the woman's delicate scent from her sleeves.
Thinking of Li Ao, He Ji vaguely remembered that she had twisted her back yesterday at noon, and he was drunk at the time. He found a black plaster in the room and put it on Li Ao.
But when exactly had he prepared a medicinal paste? It was clearly a dark, sticky mess. It wasn't that he had a vivid memory of the medicines he had handled, but rather that there was still quite a bit of it stuck to the edge of the table.
Some of it got on his hands too, and it had already hardened.
Alas! He was startled to see the dried ink in the inkstone.
Lin Yuan woke up to the smell of medicine wafting into the room.
She turned her head to look at the dawning sky in the east: "So, what kind of poetry is suitable to recite at this time?"
He Ji's lips stretched wider than his eyelids: "The woman says, 'The rooster crows,' the man says, 'It's still dark.' Rise and look out at the night; the bright stars are shining."
The deep blue night sky had not yet completely disappeared, and a few scattered stars still hung in the heavens.
Lin Yuan yawned and tears welled up in her eyes. Looking at her, it did indeed seem like there was a certain "badness" about celebrities.
“What could possibly compare to the profound meaning of turning poetry into a scene before your eyes?” He Ji’s voice drifted from the doorway.
The "scenery" he referred to was not just the dim, indistinct scenery at dawn, but the entire scene within the hall.
She asked, "Don't you need to rest a little longer?" It was just past cockcrow. He replied, "No need to rest, it's almost dawn." He then rose to gaze at the night, leaning against the door, his clothes fluttering in the wind, exuding an air of elegance.
Seeing Lin Yuan nod, He Ji became even more smug.
Even the stars he looked out at seemed to nod at him. The sparrows and crows soaring in the sky took the form of geese and ducks, humming as if they couldn't help but want to plunge headfirst into Listening Spring Garden and into his arms.
The next moment, he really failed.
A mass of blackness appeared before my eyes.
He Ji felt a sudden, sharp pain in his chest. He opened his eyes wide and saw Li Ao's furious face.
Its mouth was wrinkled and sharp, like an eagle's beak.
She was being carried by Wang Ao, groaning and moaning all the way to the hall. When she saw Master He standing in the doorway, squinting at her with a silly grin on his face, she was furious. Her waist and legs gave way, so she simply rammed her head into him.
He Ji rubbed his chest, feeling guilty and not daring to cry out in pain, but instead feigning surprise: "Oh, Aunt Li, it seems you're feeling better?"
Old Lady Li spat at him: "Old He, you quack! What kind of lousy ointment did you prescribe? After applying it all night, half of my body's skin has turned black!"
Knowing he was in the wrong, He Laosi forced a smile and said, "It's dark, that's because the body is clearing away toxins."
"Why hasn't my back pain lessened at all? And when I woke up this morning, even my hands were black?!"
Lin Yuan's eyes widened as she saw that Aunt Li's face was also dark, as if ink could drip from it.
He Ji chuckled: "Auntie works hard all day long, her hands never rest, they get covered in dust, dirt, all sorts of filth and stench every day, plucking chicken feathers one day and picking up goose feathers the next, so it's normal for her to have some blood clots in her hands, it's normal."
Upon hearing the word "goose feather," Li Ao was greatly alarmed and immediately fell silent, rubbing her dark hands together.
Wang Ao couldn't help but spread her hands, turning them over and over to look at them, wondering if she should also apply some ointment.
“Grandma, come here and clean this sludge thoroughly. Then I’ll give you a new herbal paste. The sludge removal is finished tonight, and it looks very effective. Now it’s time to address the root cause.”
He Ji closed his eyes and said, then picked up Li Ao. His arms were still a bit weak and he almost dropped her into the snow, making things worse.
"With two prescriptions from me, He Laosi, I guarantee the medicine will cure the disease."
As He Ji walked past Lin Yuan, he suddenly remembered that he had something important to do. So, amidst Li Ao's grumbling, he didn't forget to remind her, "Yuan, first feel the artistic conception of the poem, and I'll tell you the next line later."
Then, a brilliant idea struck him. He had already figured it out: he would use the herbal paste to persuade Wang Ao to make today's chicken into roasted chicken. That way, wouldn't it be just like "Hunting ducks and geese. Adding to the game, it's suitable for you"? Roasted chicken should be no different from ducks and geese.
Just like when he mentioned plucking chicken feathers, he casually mentioned goose feathers as well. Isn't that the exquisite use of parallelism in classical Chinese prose? And he understood its subtlety, applying it skillfully. Even though the old woman didn't understand poetry and was tongue-tied and couldn't speak, the amazement in her eyes was undeniable. Even with his eyes narrowed, he could see the reddish-brown glow emanating from her long, dark face.
Lin Yuan was indeed genuinely experiencing the artistic conception of the poem.
Everyone's voices faded into the distance, and she was truly immersed in the tranquility and darkness of "cockcrow" and "dawn".
The morning star dimmed, and she closed her eyes.
Yesterday, Xiao Xun's words, like the smell of alcohol, kept lingering in her ears, and she couldn't sleep well.
Once he fell into the morning dreamland, even the poem that He Ji had just recited transformed into Xiao Xun's voice.
His words brushed against my ear, blowing in a slightly ticklish sensation.
"Knowing that you are obedient, I asked you about it with mixed ornaments."
...
The missing white jade ring on Xiao Xun's belt was something Lin Yuan only noticed when she finished making a belt loop for him.
The jade pendant fell from Xiao Xun's book to the ground, producing a resounding "ding" as it struck the ground.
"Huh, is this the jade from His Majesty's belt?" Lin Yuan picked it up.
"Oh, really?" Xiao Xun's gaze remained on the book, without turning his head to look at it.
The books placed on the emperor's desk were never touched by anyone; even Wang Fu dared not touch them.
Lin Yuan was utterly puzzled. Could it be that the jade had become a spirit? Afraid of being trampled, it climbed onto the imperial desk, and then, feeling cold, climbed into a book?
Seeing that nothing was missing, her hand holding the jade felt hot, and she honestly confessed, "Last time I repaired His Majesty's belt, this piece of jade was missing, so I embroidered the flowers on it. How about I take the belt back, take off the embroidery, and sew this piece of jade back on?"
"My embroidery skills are just average." As she said this, she heard Xiao Xun chuckle. Lin Yuan's face flushed slightly, but she forced herself to continue, "However, my mending is still passable."
"No need."
The sneer in this is even more obvious.
Lin Yuan struggled: "But if people see the embroidery on the belt, it will damage His Majesty's dignity."
Well, no one dared to laugh at Xiao Xun, but this was a joke Xiao Xun made. He laughed for a long time that day, and even today, he couldn't help but laugh about it again.
Her face was as red as the fiery red plum petals on her belt: "I... I'll go find it."
As she spoke, she got up and walked toward the clothes chest.
"Don't worry, it won't damage your dignity."
Upon hearing this, Lin Yuan's eyes widened in disbelief. She rubbed her fingertips together, still trying to get up and give a deep bow of gratitude.
"Don't look for it." Seeing that she insisted on getting up, Xiao Xun added, "It's already lost."
Lin Yuan had long guessed that the fate of this belt would be either to be shelved or discarded.
But when Xiao Xun casually uttered the words "lost," I still felt inexplicably lost.
In that instant, the two nights of pulling all-nighters felt like needles piercing my hands, all pointing straight to my heart.
She pinched herself hard with her fingernails inside her sleeve, sat back down, and said nothing.
But the white jade was right in front of them, unavoidable, and in the twilight, it still shone with a triumphant light.
So she retorted sarcastically, "Your Majesty is just teasing me."
Xiao Xun did not deny that he had deliberately hidden the white jade.
But behind this lighthearted prank were countless sleepless nights, with only her and her shadow keeping her company by the dim lamplight.
When he came to serve at Zichen Pavilion early the next morning, his eyelids were so heavy they seemed about to fall off.
For some reason, during those few days, Xiao Xun had a day off and didn't have to attend court in the morning. As a result, he spent more and more time in the Zichen Pavilion during the day.
Just kidding.
Xiao Xun moved the jade in front of Lin Yuan, curled his lips into a smile, and said to her, "Do you know what this is called?"
Lin Yuan shook her head weakly.
He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, "Knowing that you are obedient, I will ask you with mixed ornaments."
What's the meaning?
Will you use a hidden piece of jade to see if she will comply?
His breath tickled my ear.
Lin Yuan's heart was also numb, and a line from a poem came to mind: "I have been with my daughter since I was three, yet she does not care about me."
The following sentence is, "Knowing that you like it, I will repay you with a variety of ornaments."
Lin Yuan did not follow Xiao Xun's words and say the next sentence. Instead, she suddenly stood up and walked to the side of the imperial desk.
"The tea is cold, I'll go refill it."
She picked up the teapot and walked outside.
The kettle was very hot, burning her through her clothes.
She suddenly pulled him into her arms.
It's so hot I want to cry.
Xiao Xun was leaning slightly towards Lin Yuan when suddenly, his side was empty.
—Like stepping into an abyss, he woke up with a start.
Above my head was an unfamiliar bed curtain.
The haze of a hangover dissipated like mist.
This is a side room in the East Garden of the Prince of Huaiyang's Mansion.
After Ling Feng and Gongsun Zhao left last night, he slept in his clothes all night, but he didn't sleep well. He hadn't taken off his pouch, and it was still digging into his waist, causing a dull pain.
Inside, there was always a phoenix jade pendant, which was a pair with the dragon-patterned pendant he wore at his waist, both carved from the same piece of mutton-fat white jade.
The most skilled craftsmen can make two jade pendants with completely different shapes fit together perfectly, so that when put together, they form a real dragon and phoenix patterned pendant.
He had wanted to give it to Lin Yuan for a long time.
That day, he stared blankly at the tea in his cup, its steam rising and swirling, and at Lin Yuan's face, which, in the steam from the teapot in his arms, gradually flushed crimson, gradually became damp, blurred, and faded into the distance.
Separated by a curtain and two doors, it was the third watch of the night.
It wasn't until the third watch of the night that the door opened again, and a eunuch came in to serve tea.
Xiao Xun's mouth was dry all night, so he called for Li Shun.
Li Shun slept for a full day and night. When he came in to serve, he saw Xiao Xun looking at him with a gloomy face and a thoughtful expression. Suddenly, he remembered the dark torture chamber in his dream and the barbed whip of the Imperial Attendant. His heart trembled.
He carefully helped Xiao Xun change his clothes, when suddenly he heard Xiao Xun ask:
"By the way, you and Lin Yuan knew each other since childhood. Do you know anything about her family? For example, do you have any siblings?"
Li Shun paused, recalling the scene of the widow and her child, disheveled and dirty, when they first arrived at the thatched hut outside Chang'an.
At that time, he was as proud as a host, introducing Lin Yuan and her mother to each of their "neighbors" under the same roof. That scene is still vivid in my mind: "Your Majesty, no."
"What about cousins? Do you have any older cousins?"
Li Shun pondered for a moment: "Lin Yuan's mother was an orphan who lived with her uncle since childhood. That uncle was not a kind person. When Lin Yuan's parents got married, he demanded an exorbitant amount, almost bankrupting Lin Yuan's father. From then on, he severed all ties with her. Later, he disappeared without a trace and had no contact with her. She has no descendants or cousins. Lin Yuan's father was an only child, and her grandfather was also a blacksmith."
He knelt on the ground, looking down, and loosened Xiao Xun's belt: "I heard it's because he was always forging iron, it got so hot there, and he couldn't have another child after giving birth to one..."
Half of these words were spoken by Lin Yuan herself.
They met in the palace, and Lin Yuan inquired about his mother. Li Shun was overcome with sadness, and Lin Yuan comforted him by sharing her own mother's childhood experiences.
The latter half vaguely comes from the endless gossip and anecdotes that never cease in the thatched hut.
The refugees from all directions lacked money, so the extent to which they embellished their stories is unknown.
The mother who told him these stories always had a hoarse cough, like a waterwheel that had been drained, and her lips were chapped year-round. She found everything tasteless and would only eat a couple of bites before giving it to Ashun. As a result, there was an extra layer of grease and vinegar in the story.
—When she wanted Ah Shun to become a blacksmith, she said that a blacksmith could earn a hundred bushels of rice a year.
When she thought about how hard it was to be a blacksmith, she also said that a blacksmith could only earn fifty bushels of grain, which was not as good as a bricklayer.
The blacksmith makes iron plows, hoes, and spades, and his customers are all farmers.
Those who could afford roof tiles were all nobles.
The money that wealthy people make slips through their fingers is more than what they can afford to eat in a year.
Until the bricklayer who lived under the same roof broke his arm and leg, and even more unfortunately, three feet of blood splattered onto the vermilion bird roof tile of the nobleman's villa, ruining the feng shui.
The nobleman was magnanimous and spoke with great arrogance, naturally not fussing over small things, but when he did, it was always a matter of a hundred or so shi (a unit of dry measure). The bricklayer lost a year's wages and even owed fifty shi, which was six thousand jin (a unit of weight). Thus, in the mother's words, the blacksmith's annual income suddenly became one hundred and fifty shi.
She never explained why blacksmiths and bricklayers, who could earn so much money, would move to such a place.
This left Li Shun deeply troubled, so even after his mother died, these stories continued to linger in his mind and occasionally appeared in his dreams.
However, without the nourishment of oil and vinegar, these stories are "cough cough cough," so stiff that they seem to break at the slightest touch, like the tree bark and white mud he gnawed on. Once broken, they become something else entirely, like a fishbone stuck in his throat, difficult to digest.
Sometimes the characters in a story become your own deceased father or brother.
Sometimes it transforms back into itself, like the red-hot iron tongs in the blacksmith's shop, clicking and snapping as they come toward his lower body.
Xiao Xun glanced down, frowned, and called a halt: "Alright, there's no need to go into such detail."
Li Shun quickly fell silent.
After changing his clothes, he still put the original belt back on His Majesty.
Before leaving the palace, Wang Fu gave Li Shun instructions on all matters, big and small, and specifically mentioned that His Majesty was used to using that particular belt and did not change it easily.
The belt was embroidered with a rising sun half-hidden in the clouds, which was quite festive compared to the other plain jade belts and gold belts.
As a result, he felt that His Majesty was much more approachable and energetic, no longer so intimidating.
Li Shun's hands, which were helping her change clothes, became steady, and she then fastened her pouch, sword, and jade pendant in turn.
Xiao Xun stared at the pouch for a long time in silence.
He hadn't found a suitable opportunity to give away the phoenix and dragon patterned pendant since that day.
After Lin Yuan left Zichen Pavilion, she fell ill.
Soon after, Qu Yan was imprisoned for murdering the crown prince. Two months later, the Xiongnu invaded the border, and Qu Qingchuan, who was the commander of Shuofang Commandery, retreated without a fight and led a large army to raise an army in Shangjun.
He planned to give it to Lin Yuan on New Year's Eve once everything had settled down.
Then he told her about the wish he made.
After meeting her and falling in love with her, he began to believe in heaven, earth, and eternity.
Lin Yuan left before the Lunar New Year's Eve arrived.
He recalled that in the Zichen Pavilion, among the books scattered on the ground, there was a piece of white jade with openwork dragon and phoenix patterns.
If it weren't for the fact that the craftsman was of decent quality, he would never have been able to recall where this ordinary piece of white jade came from.
The jade pendant in the shape of a thumb ring also has another name, "Jue".
As the translucent white jade pendant grew brighter and brighter, transforming into the sun and radiating its light and heat, Lin Yuan slowly awoke.
She was woken up by the heat.
I opened my eyes to a bright, gleaming sun that had risen high in the sky.
As I straightened up, something slid down my back.
It was a snow-white fox fur coat.
She grabbed the fox fur coat and suddenly became clear-headed.
Without even looking around, I looked up and saw Xiao Xun sitting under a red plum tree in the courtyard, leisurely sipping tea and looking in my direction.
"Awake?" His smile was dazzling, leaving Lin Yuan bewildered, wondering if the words she had uttered yesterday were merely a dream.
"Together, we'll grow old together." He looked at Lin Yuan's face with a smile and said, word by word.
Hearing him say such things in broad daylight, Lin Yuan wished she were still in a dream.
Xiao Xun tapped his forehead.
Following his pointing finger, Lin Yuan felt several deep marks on her forehead.
Looking at the table he had leaned against, he saw He Ji's poem book right below his face. The words were wet, the ink spreading across the bamboo slips, making them illegible.
Could this be a newly copied book? She unfolded the scroll a little further, but before she could even reach the end, as the handwriting became increasingly crooked, large blank spaces came into view.
Ah, it must be a dream.
Unfortunately, rubbing my forehead with my fingers hurt a little.
The thought that the ink had probably dried on my face and couldn't be wiped off immediately made my heart ache.
From this perspective, the poetry taught by Master He was indeed deeply ingrained in one's being.
Xiao Xun smiled as he watched her busy for a long time, then took a silk handkerchief, dipped it in his ear cup, and walked over.
"No." Lin Yuan stepped back when she saw him reach out.
"Why? Are you reluctant to part with Master He's calligraphy?" He withdrew his hand, examined it for a while, and said, "It's not as beautiful as mine."
Lin Yuan pointed at the handkerchief in a huff and said, "This, this—it has your saliva on it."
Xiao Xun chuckled in exasperation, pulled away her hand from her forehead, and gently wiped it for her: "It's not like we haven't touched it before, right?"
"What before?"
Lin Yuan swore that even on the few occasions when they dined together, they used shared chopsticks and daggers.
Unless... he knew that the tea-serving maid would drain the tea that he hadn't touched or barely touched, and then re-dry the tea leaves—when she was not in a bad mood with the Empress Dowager, she was a kind person who liked to show off because she was three or four years older, and was therefore generous in sharing. So, Lin Yuan had drunk this kind of tea twice before.
Later, when they arrived at Zichen Pavilion, Xiao Xun complained that her coming and going, drinking water and relieving herself, would disturb him, so he allowed her to pour tea from his pot.
She was overjoyed to be able to drink the precious imperial tea, but then she realized that the water in the pot was running out too quickly, so she had to go in and out frequently.
So, he drank a glass of water very carefully, turning a gulp into a delicate tea-tasting experience.
In the end, I didn't get to drink the fragrant Yizhou Golden Black Tea, the sweet Qiantang Pre-Rain Tea, or the smooth Minyue Silver Needle Tea that the tea-serving maid had mentioned.
What she drank on the first day, the same tea would appear in the jade pot for countless days to come.
If it weren't for the faint bruises left by the hundred or so slaps from the Emperor back then still visible on the face of the tea-serving maid, Lin Yuan would have even suspected that she was incredibly audacious and had secretly intercepted those precious items.
Ha, she didn't believe the tea maid's boastful words at all, "It's simple, His Majesty is pleased with the Xuefeng tea I brewed."
Faced with her repeated questions, the tea-serving maid blushed as she spoke, tapping her fingers together, "Your Majesty didn't realize how good this tea was before, but now you do."
Thinking of this, Lin Yuan bit her lip and heard Xiao Xun say, "What I meant was that I didn't drool before." He paused, "Since you say you do now, then that's your fault."
It seems that yesterday's comments about him being self-righteous and arrogant didn't take him to heart at all.
Lin Yuan thought sullenly. Really, ah, really—self-righteous, arrogant.
Having studied etiquette and poetry for so many years, and spent so many years in the palace, she couldn't bring herself to utter any more vulgar words.
The plain handkerchief she used to wipe her forehead soon became dirty; it was hard to tell whether it was stained with ink or with a melancholy aura.
Xiao Xun remembered her words about him being "high and mighty," so he leaned forward slightly.
Lin Yuan only needed to raise her eyes slightly, and her eyes were filled with his face.
His phoenix eyes narrowed slightly, as if there was a strange sense of grievance in them: "I've been drooling over you ever since I saw you. Tell me, what should I do?"
"...?"
As soon as he finished speaking, a sound of smacking lips came from behind him.
Lin Yuan clicked her tongue in amazement.
She looked under the table in the direction of the sound.
He Ji lay on the ground with his mouth half open, probably smelling the aroma of Wang Ao's roasted chicken, and swallowed hard.
I don't know how long he lay there, but a book was neatly placed over his chest.
"You, covered it up?"
"Hmm." Xiao Xun glanced at the person on the ground. "I only had one fox fur coat, I gave it to you."
"Then, how about we help Master He to the table?" Lin Yuan murmured.
“He was sleeping soundly with his head on the table,” Xiao Xun said, shaking his head as he told the truth.
However, it was he himself who felt uneasy.
He walked into Tingquan Courtyard and saw He Ji and Lin Yuan sleeping face to face, slumped over their desks. He was heartbroken.
After getting He Ji to the ground, he sat by the table and quietly looked at Lin Yuan for a long time.
Last time, at the desk in Zichen Pavilion, he looked at the sleeping Lin Yuan in the same way.
She also fell asleep holding a scroll of poetry.
He watched her, then fell asleep at his desk.
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Author's Note: Xiao Xun: I was raised under the tutelage of Confucius and Mencius. Although I sometimes act unethically, I cannot bring myself to steal or plunder in broad daylight...
①The Book of Han, Volume 20, Treatise on Music and Calendars, Part 1: Thirty jin make one jun, and four jun make one shi. Therefore, one shi is one hundred and twenty jin. Fifty shi is six thousand jin (Han jin). One Han jin is equivalent to 250 grams.
② Jade thumb ring pendant: The second character is pronounced "she". A jade thumb ring was unearthed from the tomb of Liu Chang, the King of Zhongshan, and is now in the collection of Dingzhou Museum. It was unearthed from the waist of the tomb owner. The accompanying ink-written burial goods list records "one jade ring". This is the first discovery of a thumb ring pendant that corresponds to an unearthed document, clarifying that the "ring" at that time was the thumb ring pendant previously believed by scholars.
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