Not long after Liu Xianyang arrived in Mud Bottle Alley, another rare visitor came to the little lane: Zhao Yao, a blue-robed scholar of elegant bearing who bore more than a slight resemblance to the teacher Qi Jingchun.
Zhao Yao was the eldest legitimate grandson of one of the town's four great families. Unlike Lu Zhengchun and those idle, pleasure-seeking young dandies, Zhao Yao, though likewise born to wealth and rank, enjoyed an excellent reputation. Many lonely old folk in the town had received the young man's kindness. To call it the sort of tactic described in books as "a famous scholar cultivating his reputation in the wilds" would be to overestimate Zhao Yao's ambitions and judge a gentleman's heart with a petty mind. After all, from the age of ten, he had simply been this kindhearted toward others, year after year, without the slightest slackening. Even the elders of Fulu Street who had watched him grow up would give him a thumbs-up. Whenever they scolded their own children, they would invariably drag Zhao Yao out as an example, which left him with scarcely any close friends among his peers.
Lu Zhengchun's crowd had free-spirited temperaments and did not care to deal with a bookworm forever mouthing "this and that." Just imagine: everyone was eagerly climbing walls to peep at a pretty widow, only for someone beside them to mutter, "Do Not Look At Improper Things." Would that not utterly ruin the mood? In short, over the years, young Zhao Yao had preferred associating with people outside Fulu Street. He had walked through nearly every alley, large and small, except Mud Bottle Alley, because Song Jixin lived there—a peer who often made Zhao Yao feel ashamed of his own inadequacies.
But when it came to friends, Zhao Yao probably recognized only Song Jixin as a fellow chess player. Though he had lost to Song Jixin at chess all these years, the desire to win was one thing, and his obsession with victory another. Deep down, Zhao Yao had always admired the exceptionally gifted Song Jixin. What saddened him was that his intuition told him that although Song Jixin laughed and joked with him, and they were close in their everyday dealings, Song Jixin seemed never to have regarded him as a true friend or kindred spirit.
Although Zhao Yao had never visited Song Jixin's home before, the instant he saw one particular residence, he knew it had to be Song Jixin's. It was because of the Spring Festival couplet posted by the gate. There were an enormous number of characters, and one glance told him they were Song Jixin's handwriting. The reason was simple: the style changed so wildly that nearly every character seemed different. For instance, the two characters "Riding the Wind" flowed forth in one unbroken sweep, free and unrestrained, carrying a sense of drifting away. The character "Abyss," with its water radical, possessed an especially deep and lingering meaning. The character "Extraordinary," with that great upward stroke, had tremendous force, like thunder bearing ten thousand jun. And the character "State" was written with upright calmness, like a Sage seated in dignity, without the slightest flaw to be found.
Standing before the courtyard gate, Zhao Yao nearly forgot to knock. He leaned forward, staring foolishly at those characters, utterly spellbound, feeling as though he no longer had the courage to knock. Precisely because he had practiced calligraphy so diligently and copied so many model scripts did he better understand the immense strength, crushing weight, and overflowing spirit contained within those words.
Zhao Yao was downcast. He took out a money pouch, bent down to place it by the gate, and prepared to leave without a word.
At that moment, the courtyard gate abruptly opened. Zhao Yao looked up to see Song Jixin apparently about to head out with his maidservant Zhi Gui. The two were chatting and laughing merrily.
Song Jixin feigned surprise and teased, "Zhao Yao, why are you performing such a grand salute? What is it you want?"
Somewhat embarrassed, Zhao Yao picked up the money pouch and was about to explain, only for Song Jixin to snatch away the embroidered pouch. Grinning, he said, "Well, well, Zhao Yao has come bearing gifts! I'll take it, I'll take it. But let us make this clear first—I come from a poor household, so I have no gift worthy of Brother Zhao's discerning eye. If I do not return a gift, then I shall commit impropriety for once."
Zhao Yao smiled bitterly. "This pouch of Suppression Charm Coins can be considered my farewell gift. There is no need for any return gift."
Song Jixin turned and exchanged a knowing smile with his maidservant, handing her the pouch. "See? Didn't I say Zhao Yao is the most courteous scholar in town? What do you think?"
After taking the pouch, the girl held it to her chest. Her eyes curved into crescents as she smiled, clearly delighted. Turning slightly sideways, she gave a formal greeting. "Thank you, Young Master Zhao. My young master has said that a household that accumulates goodness shall enjoy abundant blessings, and those who do good shall have fields of fortune. This slave girl wishes Young Master Zhao a straight ascent into azure clouds and a roc's journey of ten thousand miles."
Zhao Yao hurriedly returned the salute with cupped hands. "Thank you for Miss Zhi Gui's auspicious words."
Song Jixin rubbed the back of his head and yawned. "Aren't you two tired?"
Zhi Gui smiled sweetly. "If I could receive a pouch of coins every time, this slave girl would not tire even after performing ten thousand greetings."
Zhao Yao said shamefacedly, "Then I fear I must disappoint Miss Zhi Gui."
With a grand wave of his hand, Song Jixin said, "Come on, let's drink!"
Zhao Yao looked troubled. Song Jixin provoked him, "What a straw dummy! You read books only to learn rigid rules, without learning even a touch of a famous scholar's carefree elegance. How could that do?"
Zhao Yao asked tentatively, "A small drink to gladden the heart?"
Song Jixin rolled his eyes. "Dead drunk!"
Zhao Yao was about to speak when Song Jixin hooked an arm around his neck and dragged him away.
As maidservant Zhi Gui locked the gate, that Four-legged Snake tried to sneak outside, only for her to kick it back into the courtyard.
As she passed the neighboring residence, she quietly rose onto her toes and cast several sidelong glances inside. She saw Liu Xianyang's tall figure, and he noticed her as well, his face immediately breaking into a brilliant smile. Just as Liu Xianyang was about to greet her, she had already withdrawn her gaze and hurried away.
The town had a tavern, though it was truly not large, and its expenses were not small either. Yet Zhao Yao was, after all, a member of the Zhao Family and had a good reputation. The tavern owner, famous for being as stingy as an iron rooster, seemed to have some screw loose today. Thumping his chest, he declared that he would not charge a single coin. For two scholars to honor his humble establishment with their presence was enough to make it shine with reflected glory; the two young masters ought to be charging him instead. Song Jixin immediately extended his hand with a cheerful grin, demanding silver on the spot. The owner awkwardly found himself a way down, saying he owed it, he owed it, and tomorrow he would have someone deliver several jars of fine wine to Young Master Song. Zhao Yao had wanted nothing more than to dig a hole and crawl into it. The owner had always known the strange temperament of Young Master Song from Mud Bottle Alley, so he was not truly angry. He personally found the three of them a quiet window seat on the second floor.
Song Jixin and Zhao Yao did not speak much. Nor did Song Jixin ply him with drink or try to get him drunk, which made Zhao Yao, who had originally been prepared to face death, feel rather strange instead.
Looking out from the second-floor window of the tavern, they could see one of the plaques on the Twelve-legged Archway: "Yielding to None."
Song Jixin asked, "Mr. Qi truly isn't leaving town with you?"
Zhao Yao nodded. "Teacher changed his plans at the last moment. He said he would remain at the school and teach the final penultimate chapter, 'Knowing Propriety.'"
Song Jixin sighed. "Then Mr. Qi intends to expound a great principle, passing on the teachings of the Confucian Most Sage to the world. He will tell us that in the beginning, there were no laws. The Sage taught and transformed all living beings through ritual. The rulers of that time all revered propriety, believing that whoever strayed from principle and stepped beyond ritual should enter punishment. Thus law came to be. Ritual and law, ritual and law—ritual before law..."
Zhao Yao was already slightly drunk, his words somewhat slurred. "Do you think that is right? And why does Teacher not simply teach the final chapter, 'Strict Propriety'?"
Song Jixin answered a different question. "Before leaving town, mountain goblins and Water Ghosts, immortals and strange spirits—believe, and they exist; do not believe, and they do not exist. As for how Mr. Qi teaches and how his students listen, each may settle according to his own fate."
Maidservant Zhi Gui also drank a cup of wine. Looking adorably tipsy, she never once looked at that towering archway from beginning to end.
At the bases of the stone pillars of the Twelve-legged Archway were the nine strange beasts born of the dragon's nine sons, along with the White Tiger, Black Tortoise, and Vermilion Bird.
The common people of the town had lived here for generations and had long since ceased to find it strange.
Zhao Yao could not help belching. Swaying as he rose to his feet, he said, "Parting from you today, I hope we shall meet again."
Song Jixin thought for a moment, then rose as well. Smiling, he said, "We will certainly meet again, Zhao Yao. Do not grieve that the road ahead has no kindred spirits."
With his vision swimming, Zhao Yao bit his tongue and said with complete sincerity, "Song Jixin, you should leave this town soon as well. Who under heaven would not know you? You can definitely do it!"
Song Jixin clearly did not take it too seriously. Waving a hand, he said, "Go on, go on. Nothing but drunken rambling—an insult to refinement."
After Zhao Yao and Song Jixin left the tavern, they went their separate ways. Before departing, perhaps emboldened by drink, Zhao Yao asked, "Song Jixin, would you like to visit the Kiln Affairs Supervisor's official residence? I can persuade the Gatekeeper..."
Song Jixin coldly forced out one word through clenched teeth. "Get lost!"
Zhao Yao left dejectedly.
Maidservant Zhi Gui watched that retreating figure and said softly, "Young master, he meant well too."
Song Jixin sneered. "Are there few good people in this world whose good intentions end up doing bad things and bearing bitter fruit?"
She thought about it and found that it really did seem to be such a dull, uninteresting truth, so she did not persist.
Fulu Street, where Zhao Yao lived, lay in the north of town, while Mud Bottle Alley was in the west, where poor households clustered together. As Song Jixin and his maidservant walked side by side beneath the archway, she looked up at the plaque reading "Qi Chong Dou Niu," as though she were an old woman in the twilight of her years.
The girl, whose true name was Wang Zhu, smiled without showing her teeth.
After Zhao Yao returned to the ancestral residence on Fulu Street, a servant informed him that the Old Ancestor was waiting for him in the study. He had to go immediately, without pausing for even a moment. The blue-robed scholar, reeking of alcohol, immediately felt his head grow huge and could only steel himself and head for the study.
The Zhao Family kept a low profile in town, their wealth and status restrained. Unlike the Lu Family, who flaunted their arrogance and loved to call themselves a scholarly household, the Zhao study was thoroughly antique and elegant.
The old woman, leaning on a cane, stood beside a writing desk, stroking its surface. Her weathered face was full of sorrowful remembrance.
When the old woman smelled the strong scent of alcohol on her eldest legitimate grandson outside the door, she did not get angry. Smiling, she beckoned him in. "Yao'er, come in. Why are you standing there like a post? What is wrong with a man having a little wine? It is not horse piss—nothing shameful about it!"
Zhao Yao crossed the threshold with a bitter smile and respectfully bowed to the Old Ancestor. The old woman said impatiently, "Reading too much is bad in this way—so many rules and regulations that scholars spend their whole lives trapped in a Ghost Wall. It is tiresome as hell. Take your grandfather, for example. He was outstanding at everything, but whenever he spoke to me about grand principles, he would drone on and on. So annoying! Especially that manner of his, that expression—tsk, tsk, he was begging for a beating. Yet I could never outargue him. It made me want to smash him with my cane..."
The old woman suddenly amused herself and burst into hearty laughter. "I nearly forgot. Back then, I had no need for a cane."
She asked with a smile, "What, were you drinking with that little white-eyed wolf named Song?"
Zhao Yao said helplessly, "Grandmother, how many times have I told you? Song Jixin is very talented. His comprehension is exceptional, and he learns everything a step faster than others."
The old woman snorted. "That boy? He is as clever as they come. But before your grandfather died, he could see a man's old age from the age of three, and he saw that little thing through completely. Want to know what your grandfather said?"
Zhao Yao hurriedly replied, "This grandson does not wish to know!"
The old woman paid no attention to whether her treasured grandson wished to listen, continuing on her own. "Your grandfather said, 'Though still young, his schemes run deep. Alas, the one who ruins his ancestors' family name will surely be this person.'"
Then she pointed at Zhao Yao. "Your grandfather also said, 'Gentle, kind, respectful, frugal—nothing especially remarkable at first glance. Yet the one who nourishes the vital essence of future generations will surely be my grandson!'"
After saying that, the old woman smiled. "That dead old man was sour his whole life, but at the end he finally said something pleasant to hear."
The somewhat puzzled Zhao Yao was just about to speak when he heard his grandmother sigh wistfully, "Old, old!"
The young man could only swallow his words. Smiling, he stepped forward and took the old woman's arm. "Grandmother's life will be as long as Nan Shan. You are still very young."
The old woman stretched out a withered hand and patted the back of her treasured grandson's hand. "Better than your grandfather. You read books but do not only spout nonsense about grand principles; you also know how to say pleasant things for others to hear."
The young man smiled. "Grandfather truly was learned. Mr. Qi also said Grandfather had a sound way of scholarship and possessed profound insight into the character 'righteousness.'"
The old woman immediately revealed her fox tail, unable to conceal her smug pride, though she still put on a cold snort. "Of course. Just look at whose man he was!"
Zhao Yao pressed his lips tightly together, holding back a laugh.
The old woman led Zhao Yao to the chair behind the writing desk. The young man discovered a Sleeping Dragon Woodcarving on the desk, lifelike in every detail. Yet for some reason, upon closer inspection, he found that this azure wooden dragon had eyes but no pupils.
The old woman picked up a brush that had long been dipped in ink. It was a brand-new Small awl brush with a barrel made from an old Huai Branch. Holding it in both hands, she tremblingly offered it to her eldest legitimate grandson.
When Zhao Yao accepted the brush without understanding why, his shoulder sank. His grandmother had placed her hand upon it. He followed the motion and sat down in the seat that only the head of the Zhao clan could occupy.
The old woman stepped back one pace and said with incomparable solemnity, "Zhao Yao, take your seat! Today, you shall stand in for the Zhao Family's ancestors and dot the dragon's eyes!"
One ruined Clay Idol after another lay scattered across the ground overgrown with wild grass, toppled and crooked, abandoned and ignored.
It had been this way for thousands of years. More clay idols would even continue to end up here. The townspeople did not merely find many things unsurprising; when they saw these idols, they had long since lost much of their reverence as well.
The elderly would occasionally nag their children not to come here and play, but the little ones still loved to play hide-and-seek here, catch crickets, and the like. Perhaps when these children grew up, then became elderly people with one foot in the grave, they too would tell children not to frolic here. Generation after generation, it had passed this way—without wind or rain, without waves or ripples, plain and unremarkable.
Here, rolling heads, broken torsos, and severed palms seemed to have been forcibly pieced together, barely preserving their rough original forms. Yet even that little bit of dignity was all they had left.
A straw-sandaled youth hurried here from the direction of Mud Bottle Alley, tightly clutching three Offering Coins in his palm. After arriving, he wound this way and that, muttering to himself all the while. Then, with great familiarity, he found a Clay Idol, crouched down, and looked around. Only after confirming there was no one in sight did he quietly tuck the copper coins into a crack in the idol.
After rising, he went to find the second idol, then the third, doing the same each time.
Before leaving, the youth stood alone amid the lush green grass, pressed his palms together, lowered his head, and murmured, "May every break bring peace, may every break bring peace. I hope you will bless my father and mother so they will not suffer in their next lives... If possible, please tell my father and mother that I am doing very well now, and that they need not worry..."