Chapter 4

Baozhu's words stunned everyone present. Pang Liangji immediately rose and bowed low, ordering the proprietor to clear away all the old food and wine and prepare a fresh spread, then earnestly invited her to advise him.

Baozhu did not stand on ceremony. Once seated, she took the sheaf of papers Pang Liangji handed her and examined them one by one. Of the sixteen poems intended for the wedding, no fewer than four had problems. She could not help wondering whether the schoolteacher who had ghostwritten them bore a grudge against the Pang family.

Twenty Poems on Late Spring was no collection of lewd verse or bawdy songs, but a great work by Bai Juyi, the Layman of Fragrant Mountain. It contained many beautiful lines, depicting the households of chief ministers, regional commanders, prefects, scholars, censors, recluses, students of the classics, families marrying off daughters, and families welcoming brides-twenty different kinds of household in all. Yet out of all those, the man had insisted on plagiarizing a line about a courtesan's household. How vicious.

There was even a line that read, "The grasses and trees left from Shun's plowing; the old mountains and rivers carved by Yu." Hanlin scholar Zhang Zhongsu had written it while serving as master of ceremonies at a wedding, to mock the bride for marrying a second time. On the surface, he invoked the two emperors, Shun and Yu, to praise her noble blood and distinguished birth. Beneath that, however, phrases such as "grasses and trees left" and "old mountains and rivers" derided her remarriage as unchaste and contrary to Confucian propriety.

Baozhu explained it all clearly. Pang Liangji's hands immediately shook with rage, and he wanted to go smash the ghostwriter's school to pieces. "Rough men like us can't hear what's hidden in those words," he swore, "but my father-in-law's family has been educated for generations. I might have brought disaster down on myself the moment I opened my mouth!"

Wei Xun gave a cold laugh. "Sixth Brother, your wedding hasn't even begun, and the troublemakers have already struck in secret. None of us could fend off these treacherous hidden weapons of paper and ink."

Huo Qilang suggested, "Since you need them urgently, why not ask Ninth Lady to write you a few new ones?"

"I can't write poetry," Baozhu said. "My family hires people to do it too."

This was no false modesty. The imperial family and nobility of Great Tang were exceedingly fond of poetry. From sacrifices, weddings, and funerals to banquets and amusements, nothing was complete without a poetic flourish. Yet in the end, poetry was merely an intangible plaything of refined taste. Unless they had a particular personal interest, imperial scions did not specially study composition. They preferred to appreciate and judge it from their lofty stations, smiling as poets racked their brains and twisted their beards to breaking point in pursuit of first place.

Whenever an occasion called for verses of praise, court poets naturally composed them by imperial command. Of course, neither court poets nor those outside official service would dare insult the imperial family through such sordid tricks.

"Since you're hiring someone to write them anyway," Baozhu said, "you might as well use existing poems by renowned writers. The difference between those and these wretched lines is the difference between clouds and mud, and you can be sure there won't be any mistakes."

His heart burning with anxiety, Pang Liangji said, "But I don't know which famous poems were written for urging the bride to finish dressing or asking her to lower her fan. Please explain them to me, Ninth Lady!" He turned and hurried the steward with a stream of orders. "Uncle Pang! Quick, quick, quick! Get brushes, ink, paper, and an inkstone!"

Although the Swiftwind Guardian's legs were crippled, his temperament was still as impatient as his old martial-world nickname suggested. A square table was promptly set up beside the banquet, spread with Chengxin Hall Paper from Chizhou. Pine-Soot Ink from Yizhou was ground on a Purple-Stone Inkstone from Duanzhou, and a Zhuge Brush from Xuanzhou was dipped generously in the rich ink and respectfully offered to Baozhu.

Baozhu reflected that she had neither ties nor grievances with this nouveau riche family. Conscious of her exalted standing, she had no wish to bestow her calligraphy on them. "I'll only recite them for you," she said coolly. "Find someone else to write them down."

"Then I'll write them myself," Pang Liangji said readily. "Recite them slowly, though. I'll need to think about some of the characters."

Baozhu proceeded to recite a dozen or so famous poems for urging the bride to finish dressing and asking her to lower her fan. Pang Liangji copied them down with painstaking care. Baozhu glanced at the paper, her face full of distaste. "Your handwriting really is dreadful. What a waste of these brushes and ink."

Pang Liangji disagreed, declaring with immense pride, "This is already among the finest in the martial world. People even used to call me the Martial Arts Third-Place Scholar."

"His family has money," Huo Qilang put in enviously. "They could afford a private tutor for him from childhood."

Baozhu paused, then remembered Wei Xun saying that most people in the martial world were illiterate. Even he could only read, not write. By comparison, this young gentleman who fairly radiated foolishness was indeed among the best.

Conversely, almost every one of Great Tang's finest men of letters yearned for the free, unrestrained lives of wandering heroes. Li Taibai and others even roamed about every day with swords at their waists, styling themselves chivalrous adventurers. Baozhu thought of these two classes, which never mingled: each wanted to reach the other, yet neither could get anywhere close. There was something comical about that mismatch.

Pang Liangji had always assumed Baozhu was another member of the martial world. Deeply grateful that a heroine would lend him aid in his hour of need, he said, "My family owns several mines, so we're considered quite wealthy in Jade City. Your literary skills are so formidable that you can even fend off hidden weapons in paper and ink. Just how rich must your family be!"

At this thoroughly simpleminded remark, Baozhu gave two dry chuckles. Turning her head, she found Wei Xun already sprawled over the table, his head buried between his arms, shaking all over with silent laughter.

After copying down all the famous verses, Pang Liangji suddenly discovered that he faced a new problem. He could not help wailing, "There are only three days left! I can't possibly memorize all this!"

Everyone's eyes involuntarily turned to Baozhu again, as though she possessed powers that reached the heavens and could instantly open Young Master Pang's conception and governing vessels, allowing him to memorize the wedding poems.

Even the Pang family's steward wore an expectant expression and pleaded humbly, "It took our young master more than a month to memorize most of the previous poems. What are we to do now that he has to start all over again? Please, young lady, carry your kindness through to the end-escort the Buddha all the way to the Western Paradise-and help our young master!"

Baozhu turned to look at the misty drizzle outside. Since she could not leave just then, she simply settled into her seat and ordered a pot of sweet osmanthus wine, offering advice as she drank and watched the rain.

"Did you know that the court once granted commoners permission to 'assume higher splendor' at their weddings?"

Faced with the unfamiliar phrase, Pang Liangji shook his head blankly.

Baozhu explained, "It means a bride and groom may use carriages, horses, and clothing one rank above their station, to display honor and grandeur. Even if you hold no official post, you may wear the red ceremonial robes of a fifth-rank official on your wedding day without being guilty of overstepping your rank."

Pang Liangji clapped his hands. "I know about that! So that's where a groom's red robes come from. Isn't that simply the natural order of things? You mean it requires the court's permission?"

Baozhu ignored him and continued without pause. "Since there's a rule allowing you to assume higher splendor, you can not only wear red robes, but carry a court tablet too."

"I've already prepared one!" Pang Liangji said excitedly. "Heh heh, I specially ordered the most expensive kind, made of ivory."

At last they had reached the crucial point. Baozhu said, "Copy the verses you can't memorize onto the inner side of the tablet in tiny, fly-head-sized regular script. Then you can sneak a look and read them out when the time comes."

Everyone froze again at her words. Pang Liangji was especially astonished. "You can actually cheat like that?" he murmured.

Baozhu thought nothing of it. "That's what court tablets are for in the first place. At court, they're used to record the Son of Heaven's commands. When reports involve scattered details, or household registers and tax records contain complicated figures that are hard to remember, those old men with failing memories have to copy them onto the back of their tablets, lest they forget something and be punished. Otherwise, what benefit do you think anyone gets from holding up a thing like that for no reason? It's quite a nuisance."

"I really have wondered about that," Pang Liangji said in a daze. "I heard high officials aren't allowed to bring swords or other weapons into the palace. Maybe when they can't agree, they use those tablets to beat each other up. They can't kill anyone with them, after all."

Before he had finished, Baozhu burst out laughing and nearly choked the osmanthus wine into her nose. Imagining the chaotic, ridiculous scene Pang Liangji had described, she laughed and coughed, rocking back and forth uncontrollably.

Huo Qilang naturally leaned over to pat her back and help her catch her breath, only for Wei Xun to glare her back halfway there. He wanted to help too, but Baozhu's robe was so thin that, when he reached out, he did not know where to put his hand. After a moment's hesitation, he merely took out a clean cloth handkerchief and handed it to her to wipe her face.

Watching this, Huo Qilang wanted to laugh but did not dare make a sound. Holding it in made her stomach muscles ache.

She thought of how this man's Sunset Mist-Waves Palm was supremely soft and pure: a pulse of his internal force could shatter an enemy's five viscera without leaving any outward damage. His finger and claw techniques were fiercer and more peerless still than those of Fourth Brother, Qiu Ren, the Ghost-Hand Vajra, who had made his name with such skills. Yet when faced with a situation like the one just now, which called for gentle care, those almost unrivaled claws became so clumsy that he did not know how to use them.

Huo Qilang only wanted to enjoy the show. She deliberately offered no hint, waiting to see just how slow this arrogant little devil could be. Openly watching Pang the fool go mad while secretly watching Lynx make an idiot of himself-this job had been quite a bargain. Her trip from Guanzhong had certainly not been wasted.

Seeing that one tablet would not hold all the verses, Pang Liangji hurriedly ordered several spares made. Reassured now, Steward Pang smiled. "Our young master will have a whole bedful of court tablets, just like Guo Fenyang, without ever taking the examinations or entering official service!"

He clasped his hands and bowed respectfully to Baozhu. "Young lady, you've done our master a tremendous service. The Pang family will never forget this kindness. Since you know so much about the court, are you a member of Chang'an's martial community? May I ask what business your family is in?"

Baozhu paused, regretting that she had let her delight carry her away and said too much. After a moment's thought, she answered ambiguously, "My family does business with the palace."

"So you're imperial merchants," Steward Pang said respectfully. "No wonder you're so knowledgeable. Whenever you visit Jade City in future, you'll be an honored guest of the Pang family. If there's anything you need, you have only to ask."

He could not help muttering inwardly, If only our troublesome little ancestor would take a fancy to this girl. She's not only literate and forthright, but carries an air of wealth and distinction from head to toe. Isn't she a hundred times better than that impoverished scholar's daughter?

Though that family's ancestors had enjoyed scholarly distinction, not one of its members now held office. They were all commoners, so poor they could not keep the cooking pot boiling, yet still clung desperately to their pride. Demanding an enormous betrothal gift was one thing-the Pang family had plenty of money and did not mind-but even after receiving it, they continued to look down on their benefactors. Arrogant and snobbish, they lived off others while acting like masters, belittling and despising his young master at every turn. It was enough to infuriate a man to death.

Pang Liangji knew nothing of the old family retainer's thoughts. He merely felt that a great weight had been lifted from his mind. In his joy, he had no idea how to express his gratitude and admiration, and insisted on gathering earth to serve as incense then and there, so that he could swear siblinghood with Ninth Lady.

Wei Xun collapsed over the table again, shaking with laughter. Baozhu was speechless. I helped him out of a sense of justice, and now this wastrel actually wants to wrangle himself a princely title despite bearing a different surname. How could there be such an easy bargain in this world? Without softening her expression, she flatly refused.