Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Lian Cheng left the courtyard, and Guan Lian was waiting for him at the gate, asking why he was so slow.

Lian Cheng helped him walk, while Huqiu beside him carried several bolts of satin. Tong Xue and Qiong Hua were up ahead holding umbrellas and lanterns, their footsteps crunching on the snow beneath them. Lian Cheng mentioned wanting to add a gift for Lian Xiusheng, but Guan Lian told him not to waste his efforts on such vanity, adding that a wise person would never meddle in others' relationships. "A gentleman is open and at ease; a petty man is anxious and worried. You are earnest in being a good elder brother. How your mother treats your brother, and how your brother treats your mother—how can you know there aren’t hidden intricacies beyond your understanding? How can you interfere?"

"I was shortsighted," Lian Cheng admitted, then asked Guan Lian how it would be for him to join the Imperial Guard Office.

Guan Lian gave him a rather surprised look. "You took me as your teacher, and it wasn’t for studying and taking exams?"

"You are still my teacher, and as for studying and exams, that’s not my path. But if you could only be a teacher who teaches for exams, then I’d be at a loss," Lian Cheng said with a sigh.

"Nonsense!" the old man bellowed. "Do you take me for some pedantic bookworm?"

"Then tell me, teacher—joining the Imperial Guard Office versus studying for exams—which suits me better?"

Guan Lian stroked his beard for a long moment. "If you were seeking a foothold in life, you could do it by carrying a hoe to till the fields or wielding a blade. But if you were someone else, I would only say, 'All pursuits are base, only study is noble.' Don’t think I’m saying scholars are noble and others lowly—it’s just that people are no better than ants; if you can’t topple the great edifice, you have to live by its rules."

"But you are different. Born into a household of bell, tripod, and fine dining, a youth of the Five Mausoleums—you can do whatever you want."

Lian Cheng said helplessly, "So you don’t approve?"

"I know you’re clever, so you don’t need me to spell it out," Guan Lian sighed, then spoke openly. "Nowadays, the Imperial Guard Office is valued by the current Emperor, commanding the Imperial Guards and overseeing the palace guard. Though their power is immense, they do things that could be done or left undone, not to mention their despicable acts like fabricating charges."

"Even if you were to become their fangs and claws, I’d worry for your future. Such a disreputable office rises swiftly and falls just as fast."

"So, as I said, it’s hard for others, but you can manage it."

Lian Cheng blinked. "I seem to have forgotten to mention that I’ll be in a civil post, not doing those things you spoke of."

"..." Guan Lian raised a hand and grabbed Lian Cheng’s ear. "Then what are you prattling on about with me? I thought you had grand ambitions, but after all this talk, you’re just a petty tea-room clerk!"

Lian Cheng grimaced in pain. "You old man have quite a grip! Tomorrow we’ll send you to the mill to turn the grindstone—then the whole estate’s grain won’t need anyone else’s effort!"

Guan Lian bristled, his beard flaring. Huqiu, unable to free his hands to rescue his master, called out to Tong Xue and Qiong Hua ahead. The two maids rushed back to plead for peace, finally saving the young master’s ear. But then the young master bent down, scooped up a snowball, and plastered it right on the old man’s face, then bolted away, leaving the old man cursing all the way back. People in the courtyards even opened their doors to see the commotion.

Back at Penglai Pavilion, Lian Cheng sent Huqiu to deliver the inkstone to Yiqiu. Hearing from Tong Xue that they had to rise at the fifth watch, he quickly washed up and crawled into bedding that had already been laid out and scented with incense.

Lian Cheng was exhausted today—so tired he didn’t even have the energy to think about modern life. Such was the way of a youth from humble beginnings: toss him on the prairie or a cliff, and he’d still thrive, all the more so since he had no parents, no attachments, not even roots.

At some point, either Qiong Hua or Tong Xue came in to blow out the lamp. The bed curtains darkened, and Lian Cheng drifted into sleep, his mind weaving together images of the ancient and modern worlds into a screen standing in Lian Xiusheng’s study. He wasn’t dazzled by the Lian Cheng surrounded by stars; at a glance, he saw his own shabbily dressed self.

The Lian Cheng who had been specially admitted to an elite high school with all fees waived was out of place among the purely European-style buildings around him, but it didn’t matter—Lian Cheng had conquered the entire school with his personal charm.

Whether people admired him for his face, his eloquence, or his grades, no one looked down on him for his background. He didn’t even encounter the drama of the school’s F4 bullying him and then falling for him. But Lian Cheng had always been clear: he was not from the same world as them.

This self-awareness made him feel somewhat lonely, as if he were an outsider in this world.

In his hazy state of half-sleep, the present Lian Cheng seemed happier than the former one.

A few hours ago, Lian Xiusheng had said this might be the happiest New Year’s Eve he’d ever had. In fact, Lian Cheng felt the same—he had never spent a New Year’s Eve with so many "family members."

Before, Lian Cheng always spent it alone at school. The orphanage didn’t reserve a place for older children, and Lian Cheng, knowing better, didn’t want to fight the little ones for the meager food.

When he was small, the director would play a recording for them: "Under the bridge by the gate, a flock of ducks swims by." It was an old tape recorder that had to be rewound repeatedly. The director said that children who were unhappy could sing a bit, and they’d feel better.

Lian Cheng turned over, his blurry eyes meeting his own reflection on the screen.

He knew what the other was about to sing, so he silently mouthed along: "He brings a pair of chickens, I bring a goose—leisurely joy."

Let go of your worries, Lian Cheng turned back. The plum blossom is me, and I am the plum blossom, entering the mountain home, also tasting the fragrant tea.

At the fifth watch, Lian Cheng was still dead asleep when Tong Xue grabbed him to dress and wash. He heard a crackling sound outside—the courtyards were setting off firecrackers.

-

In the gray-white gunpowder smoke, a door bolt was thrust into Lian Cheng’s hands. He didn’t know what to do with it, so he stared blankly at Huqiu.

Huqiu made a gesture.

Lian Cheng understood. He tossed the bolt high into the air. When it hit the ground, the others shouted auspicious words: throwing away bad luck, throwing out riches.

Lian Cheng rubbed his eyes, picked up the bolt, and put it back, thinking, *What other customs are you going to throw at me?*

Turning around, he noticed an extra person in the courtyard, standing demurely beside Qiong Hua. It was an old maidservant in a padded jacket, round-faced with round eyes, kind-looking, about forty or so, neatly and cleanly dressed.

He guessed this must be the supervising maidservant Zhang Shi had said she would send to their courtyards. So early? Had she come last night, trailing behind them? Ancient people didn’t sleep!

Seeing the Third Brother looking at her, the maidservant stepped forward, bowed, and said, "Young master, I have been sent by the mistress to serve you. In her early years, when the mistress was a maiden, I was her calligraphy tutor. From now on, just call me Qiu Mama."

Qiu Mama? Calligraphy tutor to Zhang Shi? Lian Cheng suspected Zhang Shi had an ulterior motive—thinking his handwriting was ugly, she sent a maidservant who could write. But he had no proof.

Lian Cheng thought for a moment, then said, "Greetings, Qiu Mama. Do you still practice calligraphy?"

Qiu Mama smiled. "Youth today, old age tomorrow. I’m old and have duties to manage—how could I spare time for such refined pastimes?"

Lian Cheng put on a fake smile. This manner of speaking, it was clear she was here to teach him.

He was doomed.

"For the ancestral rites on the first day of the new year, young master’s attire today is not appropriate. Please have the two young maids change you into something else—not red, but formal. After all, you'll be the head of the household one day. After changing, the kitchen’s wontons should be delivered. Please eat two, young master deigning to do so. Later, accompany the Sixth Brother to the ancestral hall. How about that?"

Lian Cheng, totally bewildered, said "Yes, yes, yes" in a row, then ran into the room with the two maids and a servant boy.

Qiong Hua brought out a dark cyan round-collar robe with subtle gold patterns of assorted treasures. She whispered that this would definitely work. Tong Xue, meanwhile, removed the Dongpo cap they had put on Lian Cheng and replaced it with a Tang cap topped with white jade, and also took out a jade thumb ring from the drawer and put it on Lian Cheng.

"In previous years, they never took our young master along for the ancestral rites. I wonder why they want him to go this year, Sister Tong Xue?" Qiong Hua asked, picking out a wide-sleeved rabbit-fur robe from among the blinding array of cloaks, then squatting to bring out a pair of sheepskin boots.

Lian Cheng wasn’t much of a connoisseur, but he could tell this outfit was far more elaborate than before.

He stepped outside. A young, tender-faced maidservant ran up to him. "Qiu Mama sent me to inform the Third Brother that the kitchen won’t be making his wontons anymore. The Sixth Brother has brought a food box, and it contains two bowls." She seemed busy, so after speaking, she ran off. Lian Cheng looked up and saw Lian Xiusheng walking toward him from under the eaves.

Little Sixth was dressed simply today—a frost-colored bamboo-pattern straight-length padded robe, also wearing a Tang cap, but with coral instead of white jade, like a crescent moon that hadn’t yet sunk from the sky.

"Third Brother."

Sweet-talking, calling out as soon as he saw him. Lian Cheng thought, walking down the steps, "Qiu Mama said you cooked wontons for me too?"

"I thought the kitchen would definitely make your share, but last night after you left, I happened to wrap some more wontons and really wanted you to taste them. So I sent word to the kitchen, and I’m cooking your share in my kitchen. Would Third Brother be angry?"

"You made them yourself for me to eat—why would I be angry?" Lian Cheng wasn’t that ungrateful. He reached out and tugged Lian Xiusheng’s sleeve, and the brothers, side by side, entered Penglai Pavilion.

When they sat down at the octagonal table, it was still on two round stools pushed together, as if their bones couldn’t be separated.

Man Cai placed the food box on the table, lifted the lid, and took out two steaming bowls of wontons. After setting them down, he picked up the box and retreated to stand beside Huqiu. He glanced at Huqiu several times, then couldn’t help asking, "Why are you wearing new clothes again? You’re so big—the fabric for your outfit could make two of mine. Your young master really spoils you."

Huqiu was annoyed. "Why is it that every time you come into our courtyard, you either crave our tea or covet my clothes? Don’t you have anything else to talk about?"

Man Cai pouted.

Lian Cheng didn’t know what the others were saying behind him; his attention was on the bowl of wontons in front of him. They looked somewhat similar to wontons, without garnishes like scallions or cilantro, but with a distinct smell of pepper—very fragrant.

“Did you really make these?” Lian Cheng picked up the spoon, a hint of skepticism on his face. He couldn’t believe that a noble young master from old times would actually cook in the kitchen.

“Third Brother doubts me? My hands still smell of pork right now, and I don’t know when it’ll wash off.” With that, Lian Xiusheng reached out as if to pinch his brother’s face.

Lian Cheng quickly dodged. Lian Xiusheng was only feigning mischief, not intending to actually dirty his brother, so he withdrew his hand and invited Third Brother to eat.

Lian Cheng was somewhat moved that Lian Xiusheng had gone to the trouble of cooking, but moved as he was, what if it tasted awful? So he only took a small bite. Setting aside the taste, he covered his mouth and said, “A rock!”

“Third Brother, look more carefully before calling it a rock.”

Seeing his confidence, Lian Cheng had no choice but to pick up his chopsticks and peel open the wrapper of the wonton. Under the soup, it turned out not to be a rock, but a silver coin.

Damn, did they even boil them? Lian Cheng thought at first, then figured it was unfair to be too harsh on ancient people. Just as he was about to say, “Wow, your brother is truly the chosen one,” Lian Xiusheng’s voice rang out faintly beside him.

“Third Brother need not worry. The silver coins inside were boiled in rolling water several times. I only wanted to bring you some good luck; I have no intention of poisoning you.”

“…” What to do when your little brother is too sensitive?

Lian Cheng could only scoop up another wonton with his spoon and bring it to Lian Xiusheng’s lips. “I haven’t said a word. What are you mad about?”

Lian Xiusheng wished he could remain ignorant about everything. If he didn’t understand, he could still play with Third Brother like a toy. But now that he truly understood, when the other teased him, he felt like he was the one teasing him instead, a sinful feeling of transgression welled up, even as half his body went numb and hot.

He could only push Third Brother’s hand aside, turned his head, and ate the wonton from the spoon. The skin of the wonton was soft and slippery, as if he’d just bitten Third Brother’s tongue.

But Lian Xiusheng was always good at dissembling; no matter how hard Lian Cheng stared, he could never find any hint on his face. All Lian Cheng saw was him frown, then lower his head and spit out another silver coin onto the table.

“Xiusheng, you and I, brothers, will have great luck this year, unstoppable!” Lian Cheng was both surprised and delighted. Though he didn’t believe in fate, he believed in all good omens.

Until Lian Cheng found a silver coin in every single wonton in the bowl.

-

“…” Lian Xiusheng was so boring.

This was Lian Cheng’s second time visiting the Lian family ancestral hall. The first time was at night, and it felt eerie and ghostly. This time it was daytime; in front of the hall were white snow and yellow plum blossoms, inside were gold drapes and silver candles, with much more solemnity and grandeur.

Naturally, far more people had come. Men and women from every branch of the family had arrived, each bringing sacrificial offerings. Smaller ones included chickens, ducks, pickled fish, and preserved goose; larger ones like whole sheep; plus wine jars of various sizes, sealed; and piles of fine pastries and fruits, piled up at the entrance of the hall.

When Lian Cheng appeared, Fu Guang led him in through a small path beside the plum blossoms, and he stood at the front of everyone, behind Lian Pu, and beside him was Qiu Mama, who arrived with two servants carrying a pig and set it down. This was the offering from Penglai Pavilion—clearly prepared by Qiu Mama.

Lian Cheng couldn’t help but glance behind him. Wow, so many people—even more than last night. But Lian Xiusheng was easy to spot, standing among the people in his row. Zeng Gui, Lian Biyun’s son, was also there. Yes, although he was nominally a cousin, he had actually been entered into the Lian family register.

Further back were the daughters of the Lian family, then divided into left and right sides: one side for the women of the household, the other for men.

After surveying the crowd, Lian Cheng realized that Zhang was not there.

Zhang was the eldest daughter-in-law, Lian Pu’s legal wife. How could she be absent from the ancestral sacrifice? Lian Cheng had to whisper to Lian Pu, “Why doesn’t Mother come?”

Lian Pu said, “She is unwell, so she won’t come. Go and burn some incense for your ancestors.”

Fu Guang had already lit the incense up front. When Lian Cheng stepped forward, Fu Guang bent down and handed the lit incense to Lian Cheng with both hands. Lian Cheng took it, walked to the censer that shimmered with purple-gold light, bowed three times per ritual, then knelt and kowtowed, then inserted the incense into the censer.

Then the other sons came forward. Naturally, Lian Xiusheng also went, but Fu Guang failed to light the incense several times. The first-day sacrifice was routine, without divination; perhaps it just wasn’t a good day, so no one said anything. They simply let Lian Xiusheng light the incense himself, and it caught fire instantly.

Lian Cheng watched from behind, conflicted, wondering what Lian Xiusheng must be thinking.

After all the sons had completed the rites, Lian Pu stepped forward, holding a wine vessel while an elder beside him poured wine. Then Lian Pu spoke: “The filial son Lian, Right Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, announces to the ancestors: may we forever pursue the sacred virtue of our forebears… hoping to receive their blessings and protection, praying for prosperity. Humbly with clear wine and simple offerings, we bow and sacrifice.”

After speaking the prayer, Lian Pu raised his head and drank the wine in one gulp. The elder then poured wine for those behind him, and everyone followed the ritual and drank in one gulp.

Then they began to distribute the sacrificial meat—just pork or lamb boiled in plain water with no seasoning.

Today’s meat was boiled pork from the pig Qiu Mama had brought, because only meat that had been smoked by incense could be called sacrificial meat.

The meat was distributed according to seniority and legitimacy, with the same amount for everyone, so Lian Cheng received a large piece.

“…” Isn’t there any good luck for me? Lian Cheng thought helplessly.

After the meat was distributed, the rite was over. People streamed out of the courtyard. Lian Cheng snuck off to a rain gutter where no one was and retched.

While he was retching, someone handed him hot tea. Without thinking, Lian Cheng took it and took a big gulp, rinsed his mouth, and only then saw that the person who handed him the tea was Zeng Gui. Zeng Gui tapped his head with a fan: “Who allowed you to spit it out? You luckless fellow.”

“Cousin Ruzhuo, you say that so easily,” Lian Cheng said. “You only had a piece the size of half a fist. Mine is as big as a few of yours combined.”

“Good. Then you won’t need to eat for the next few days,” Zeng Gui said. He took a handkerchief from his sleeve, bent down, and wiped the oily mouth for Lian Cheng. “Visitors will come to pay New Year’s calls later. Mind your manners.”

As he was wiping, a voice came from behind the two: “When did Cousin return?” There stood Lian Xiusheng under the golden wintersweet blossoms, holding a bowl of steaming tea. Without waiting for their reply, he raised his hand and casually poured the tea away, melting a spot of snow. “Since Third Brother already has tea to drink, my tea is unnecessary.”