It was the eighth day of the fourth month, in early summer. Last night's heavy rain had washed the valley fresh, leaving the woodland dripping green. In the afternoon sunlight, the roadside dendrobiums, daylilies, mulberries, and roses cast graceful shadows and vied in splendor. The mountain road from the foot of Wulin Mountain to Mingsheng Lake looked like a painting.
Lai Fu, a tenant farmer serving as a temporary driver, guided an ox cart slowly along the uneven mountain road. From Lingyin Temple to Chen Family Cove below Nine Luminaries Mountain was nearly twenty li, a journey of three hours by ox cart.
Chen Caozhi and his mother sat in the cart. As it jolted and bounced along the rugged road, Mother Chen Lady Li felt sick to her stomach, and her face grew somewhat pale.
"Mother," Chen Caozhi said with concern, "this stretch of mountain road is bumpy, and riding in the cart can make you dizzy. Why don't I help you walk this stretch instead?"
"Good," Mother Chen Lady Li said happily. "It comforts me so much to have such a considerate son."
The former Chen Caozhi had certainly been filial, but his filial devotion had been limited to obedience. Anticipating another's wishes and showing such thoughtful consideration had not been his strengths.
Chen Caozhi supported his mother as they walked slowly along the mountain road. Looking at her graying hair and the age spots on the backs of her hands, he silently told himself, Mother, I am your son. I will certainly honor and care for you.
Afternoon sunlight spilled through the dense foliage onto the mountain road in shifting, flickering patches. Wearing a small cap and a hemp-cloth robe with billowing sleeves, Chen Caozhi walked through the scattered light in high-toothed wooden clogs. The mountain road was quiet, the clacking of his clogs crisp. He drew a deep breath and felt utterly relaxed and at ease. More than three months had passed since his soul had lodged in the longevity lamp, and he had largely overcome his negative feelings. Now he felt only the joy of rebirth. He was fifteen, twelve years younger than in his previous life, returned from young manhood to boyhood-and more than sixteen hundred years into the past, at that. Wasn't that marvelous?
Thinking this, Chen Caozhi could not help growing a little excited. He swung his broad sleeves, more than two feet wide, and studied his slender, thin left hand. Held against the sunlight, it was so white that it seemed almost transparent. He truly was an exquisitely handsome boy.
Chen Caozhi estimated that he stood a little over 1.6 meters tall, or roughly six feet five inches by Jin measurements. For a boy just entering puberty, that was not short. Compared with the sturdy physique he had possessed in his former life, when he had traveled far and wide with his luggage on his back, however, this body was far too frail. He scarcely had the strength to truss a chicken.
After walking some distance with Chen Caozhi's support, Mother Chen Lady Li indeed felt less constricted in the chest and much more comfortable. Seeing her son holding up his hand and studying his palm, she asked with a smile, "Chou'er, what are you looking at your hand for?"
"Mother, I feel that my constitution is weak," Chen Caozhi said. "I must find ways to strengthen my body from now on-practice the Five-Animal Exercises or something of that sort."
"Yes, yes, yes. You must strengthen your body. You must."
Neither Chen Caozhi's father nor his elder brother had lived long, and Chen Caozhi himself had always been frail and sickly. Mother Chen Lady Li often worried over this, so hearing him speak of improving his health naturally delighted her beyond measure.
Lai Fu, driving the ox cart, chimed in, "If the young master wants to strengthen his body, why not learn swordsmanship? There are Libationers in the Way of the Celestial Masters who know how to use a sword."
"No swordsmanship," Mother Chen Lady Li said. "That is what refugees and military households learn. Practicing the Five-Animal Exercises will do for Chou'er."
In the Eastern Jin, the prevailing fashion exalted literary pursuits and disdained martial ones. Sons of the great clans prized powdered faces, perfumed robes, elegant bearing, strumming five-stringed zithers, and lofty talk. Who wanted to sweat through martial training? Although Chen Caozhi's clan had not entered the ranks of the gentry, poetry and books had always been its family legacy, so Mother Chen Lady Li's refusal to let him learn swordsmanship was understandable.
"Oh, yes," his mother added. "Chou'er, you must not tell anyone else that we came to Lingyin Temple to worship the Buddha-Laifu, remember this too. You must never tell."
Lai Fu was in his forties, loyal and honest. Originally a refugee from north of the Huai River, he had drifted to Jiangdong with neither household registration nor land. Chen Caozhi's father had shown him kindness while serving as deputy administrator of Wuxing Commandery, so Lai Fu had brought his family of five to Chen Family Cove to farm the Chen clan's fields as their tenant. More than ten years had passed since then.
"Lai Fu will never tell," he promised. "Lai Fu doesn't care whether it's the Buddha or the Celestial Master. Whoever can keep the young master safe and sound, that's who Lai Fu will believe in."
The Chen clan of Chen Family Cove followed the Way of the Celestial Masters, also known as the Way of the Five Pecks of Rice, and had taken Du Zigong, the religious leader of Qiantang County, as their master. Chen Caozhi's name itself was connected to the Way of the Celestial Masters: the character "zhi" was its identifying mark, much like "Shi" among Buddhists. During the Wei-Jin era, a great many people had "zhi" in their names, the most famous being Wang Xizhi and his son Wang Xianzhi.
Du Zigong's Daoist arts were said to commune with the divine, and he wielded enormous influence throughout the Three Wu region. Many eminent clans had become his disciples, including the Langya Wang clan, the Chen Commandery Xie Clan, the Kuaiji Kong clan, and the Yixing Zhou clan-all aristocratic houses of the highest standing. Ever since Buddhism had entered China, it and Daoism had been as incompatible as fire and water. Thus, if Du Zigong of Qiantang learned that his follower Chen Caozhi had offered incense at Lingyin Temple, Chen Caozhi's prospects would probably look very bleak.
By now, the three had emerged from the Lingyin mountain road. Not far away, an immense lake stretched between heaven and earth, its green waves spanning a thousand qing, its distant waters meeting the sky. Several small islands dotted the lake, but not a single fishing boat could be seen on its broad surface. Blue sky, white clouds, green mountains, and emerald water-the warm breeze was intoxicating.
Chen Caozhi was a seasoned backpacker. How could he not know that West Lake lay beside Lingyin Temple? Yes, that very same renowned West Lake, though it was now called Mingsheng Lake, also known as Wulin Water. The nearby villagers called it Golden Ox Lake as well, for legend had it that a golden ox had appeared in its waters. Compared with the West Lake that would teem with tourists more than a thousand years later, the Mingsheng Lake before him was far more expansive, its waters pure and human footprints rare-
Chen Caozhi thought with a smile, Seven hundred years from now, Su Dongpo will compare West Lake to the beauty Xi Shi. But the West Lake before me could be called Xi Shi as a little girl, utterly untouched by any defilement.
Chen Caozhi helped his mother back onto the ox cart, then continued walking beside it, admiring the lake and mountains along the way. After some distance, he saw several ox carts and a carrying chair standing beside the lake ahead. More than ten attendants and maidservants waited there, holding feather fans, square cushions, books, ruyi scepters, and other articles. A tall, fair-skinned young gentleman accompanied a plainly dressed young woman as she gathered wildflowers by the water.
The young woman wore a close-fitting short jacket and a long skirt that trailed along the ground, all in plain white, her hair arranged in a drooping horse-fall bun. She had a slender, graceful figure and a very beautiful face. Pointing to a clump of flowers more than two feet tall beside a lakeside rock, she asked in a Three Wu accent, "Sixth Brother, what kind of flowers are these?"
The young gentleman approached for a closer look. The plants had oval leaves and slightly drooping petals, with flowers of white, yellow, pale red, and light purple. Five colors appeared together on a single stem, making a brilliant display. He hesitated. "These-are they roses?"
The young woman laughed softly. "How could these be roses? Certainly not!"
The young gentleman asked the attendants and maids. They all talked at once, naming every flower of spring and summer. The young woman shook her head. "None of those. I think they look more like dendrobium orchids, though not quite-"
Just then, a clear, resonant voice joined in. "They are indeed dendrobium orchids, but not the common sort. They are an unusual variety called golden hairpin dendrobium."
The young gentleman and the plainly dressed young woman turned together. A fair-skinned, handsome youth in a small cap and wide sleeves was approaching leisurely in high-toothed wooden clogs. A faint smile rested on his face, and his bearing was easy, graceful, and composed.
Seeing the handsome youth's excellent appearance and bearing, the young gentleman felt certain he was a son of the gentry. He cupped his hands. "May I ask your honored surname and your Commandery Prestige?"
"What if I am a son of the Wangs or Xies? What if I come from the Commoner Clans?" the youth replied mildly. Briefly cupping his hands, he continued east beside the ox cart.
Watching the hemp-robed youth's retreating back, the plainly dressed young woman said softly, "I never expected to find someone like that in this secluded countryside!" Then she turned back to the clump of dendrobium orchids and smiled. "Golden hairpin dendrobium. What a distinctive flower name."
The young gentleman found the youth rude and felt somewhat indignant. "He is hardly anyone of consequence. Probably from some lower-ranking gentry family in Qiantang. Very likely a northern boor."
"Northern boor" meant a barbarian from the north, a derogatory term the gentry of the Three Wu used for northerners. Wu Commandery, Wuxing, and Wuhui were collectively known as the Three Wu, the former territory of Sun Quan's kingdom of Wu. Fifty years earlier, large numbers of Jin people from the north had settled there to escape warfare. Those who crossed south eventually numbered nearly a million, a sixth of Jiangdong's population. The people of Jiangdong believed that the northerners had come south to occupy their territory and damage their interests, and were therefore deeply displeased.
The young woman giggled. "Sixth Brother, you call them northern boors, and those northern boors call us raccoon dogs."
The people of Wu disliked the northerners, and the great northern clans likewise looked down on the people of Wu, mockingly calling them "raccoon dogs." Raccoon dogs were common village dogs-what an ugly name.
"They are the real raccoon dogs!" the young gentleman said angrily. "Those northern boors were beaten by the Hu north of the river until they scurried about like dogs that had lost their homes. Yet the moment they reached Jiangnan, they began throwing their weight around. Our Four Great Clans of Wu Commandery—the Lus, Gus, Zhus, and Zhangs—have all passed down poetry and propriety through the generations. How are we inferior to the Wangs, Xies, Chis, and Yus from the north?"
The young gentleman was named Lu Qin, a descendant of Lu Xun, the grand commander of Eastern Wu during the Three Kingdoms. His father, Lu Shi, served as Minister of the Five Armies, an office of the Principal Third Rank. The plainly dressed young woman was his paternal cousin, the daughter of Lu Na, administrator of Wuxing Commandery. Her personal name was Lu Weiwei. The Lu clan was one of the foremost powerful houses in Jiangdong.
Seeing her cousin still glaring angrily after the departing youth, Lu Weiwei could not help laughing. "Sixth Brother, that youth told us the name of the golden hairpin dendrobium. We ought to thank him. Besides, even if he is a northerner, there's no need for us to be so angry. He is only a boy."
Lu Qin also felt that he had shown insufficient generosity of spirit. He gave a self-deprecating laugh, but said, "He certainly is an ignorant child. To see the greatest beauty in Wuxing Commandery and act as though he had seen nothing-he truly has no eyes."
Lu Weiwei's bright eyes slid sideways as she shot her cousin a look. Then she ordered the attendants to dig up the golden hairpin dendrobium, roots and all, so it could be transplanted into the rear garden of the Lu Residence in Wu County.
The gardens of the Lu residence had no equal in Jiangdong, and Lu Weiwei's love of flowers bordered on obsession. The people of Wu Commandery called her "the Lu family's flower enthusiast."
"Wei Rui" (pronounced "wei-rui") referred, first, to luxuriant vegetation, and second, to brilliant beauty and vivid color. There was another meaning as well, this humble Daoist's own unique understanding of those two characters: delicate, tender flower petals.
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