On the fifth day of the fifth month, in Guilin Prefecture.
Spring lay deep as the sea, the peaks green as painted brows.
Guilin's mountains and waters crowned all beneath heaven.
The peaks were hairpins of emerald jade, the waters ribbons of blue silk. Solitary summits sprang from the earth, leaning on nothing, clinging to nothing, neither sprawling nor branching!
Wondrous indeed, magnificent indeed.
Han Tuizhi had written: "The river forms a blue silk sash; the mountains, emerald jade hairpins."
Only those who stood amid this landscape could know that these few words had captured all of Guilin's timeless wonder.
On the western bank of the Li River stood a riverside pavilion, nameless and without a plaque.
Inside rested a plain zither, a burner of aloeswood incense, and two cups of clear tea.
Xie Lin sat before the zither table. He neither touched the strings nor lifted his cup, only gazed silently at the peaks, his hands clasped behind his back.
Beside him lay several issues of the Court Gazette from the Capital.
Though the gazettes offered only a few brief lines, he knew the Capital's affairs, great and small, inside out.
Thus, as Xie Lin studied the mountains, he was not a banished official sighing over their beauty, but a general surveying the field while awaiting his summons.
For all their wonder, Guilin's mountains and waters could not keep him here forever.
"Xie Lang."
A soft call came from behind the pavilion.
Carrying a food box, Xu Shi came slowly up the stone steps, her pace unhurried, her skirts barely stirring.
The same simple bun and silver hairpin, the same pale blue-green beizi jacket. She was still like a pure-hearted orchid, a delicate fragrance following every step.
She entered the pavilion and arranged the small dishes from