TSLSILMH Ch 13

Chapter 13

 

After Deng Hefu left, Xie Shu now took a closer look at this inner chamber.

He had known before that the side hall on the first floor of Tingyu Courtyard¹ was already exceedingly splendid, but seeing it today, this place was even more so.

Xie Shu slowly walked to the corner. The four walls were a deep crimson, and when he breathed in, there was a faint, refreshing fragrance. Touching it gently with his hand, he judged that this must be the “Pepper Chamber”² mentioned in books.

This was an ancient method in which the blossoms of the Sichuan pepper tree were ground into powder and mixed into the plaster used to coat the walls. Hence the room exuded such a gentle and pleasant aroma.

Moreover, walls coated with Sichuan pepper powder were not only warm in winter and cool in summer, but also kept mosquitoes and insects away. Naturally, one could imagine how rare and precious such construction was.

Looking more closely, Xie Shu discovered that not only pepper powder had been used, but possibly a mineral similar to kaolin³ had been mixed in as well—otherwise, the surface could not have felt so smooth and delicate.

The jewel-like luster of the walls did not come from anything gaudy like gold dust. Rather, several decorative objects such as zithers and swords hung upon them, draped with fine brocade gauze, lending the room an exceptionally refined atmosphere.

Sweeping his gaze around the room, Xie Shu could not help thinking—only a place like this could be worthy of such a supremely precious “Young Lord.”⁴

But with that thought came a twinge of helplessness. He had originally planned to find a way to earn his living in the future—at the very least, not to be staying here for free.

Yet judging from the current situation, no matter what work he found, he probably could not afford even a single day’s rent here, to say nothing of other expenses…

It seemed that for quite some time to come, he would have to rely on the Young Lord’s support…

Of course, Xie Shu was not being pretentious—he was simply reminding himself to always be mindful, and not to take anything for granted.

After familiarizing himself with his new quarters for a while, Ximo⁵ came trotting in.

Earlier, Xie Shu had sent Ximo to take another look around the room to see if there was anything else that needed tidying up. In his hands now, Ximo held something like an invitation card.

He handed it to Xie Shu, scratching his head in slight embarrassment. “Master, a few days ago when you were gravely ill, I nearly forgot—your former schoolmate, Young Master Zhang En-shi, sent an invitation to you several days ago. He invites you to join him at the Xiyuan Poetry Gathering on the third day of the third month—that’s five days from now.”

“A poetry gathering?”

Hearing this, Xie Shu found his interest stirred. He had read in books that in ancient times, poetry gatherings and elegant assemblies were fashionable—often a way for people to make friends through literature—a truly cultured diversion.

And this “Third Day of the Third Month”⁶ had its own origins.

In antiquity, there was the custom of the Spring Purification Ritual: as the weather warmed in late spring, people would bathe in river water on this day to pray to the heavens for cleansing from misfortune.

Later, the day transformed into a fixed festival for outings.

What Xie Shu did not know, however, was who exactly this Zhang En-shi was, and what kind of relationship he had with the original “him,” since he still did not have a full grasp of the latter’s character. It would be troublesome if he accidentally gave himself away.

Yet he could not keep hiding indoors forever. And besides—having come to the ancient past at last—how could he pass up the chance to see a poetry gathering for himself?

Opening the invitation, he saw that the location was the Xiyuan constructed by the Gu family, with the host being Third Young Master Gu. What kind of background did this Gu family have?

After thinking for a moment, Xie Shu said evenly to Ximo, “Go and find out more about this Xiyuan Poetry Gathering—how many people will attend, and who they are.”

From now on, such occasions would be unavoidable, and Xie Shu wanted Ximo to grow accustomed to handling such errands.

Ximo had a good nature and was quick-witted, but given his young age, he was inevitably a bit impetuous. It would be better to train him well; in the future, who could say he might not be able to handle things on his own?

Ximo was momentarily taken aback. The reason he had not taken the matter too seriously before was because ever since his master had married into the Yu family, he had never attended such gatherings.

But now, being looked at in this way—as though utterly trusted by his master—Ximo suddenly felt a surge of determination.

He resolved to investigate carefully and leave his master with no worries.

It did not take him long. The Yu family already had its own channels for gathering information, and as Xie Shu’s personal attendant—different from ordinary servants—Ximo had connections.

Outside the inner residence, people still did not know the precise relationship between Xie Shu and Yu Chuxi. Since Xie Shu was formally the Yu family’s son-in-law, and Yu Chuxi was currently the acting head of the household, there were naturally people willing to run errands for him.

When Ximo returned, he relayed the situation in full detail. Being literate and having been by the original Xie Shu’s side for some time, he had picked up considerable knowledge and thus spoke clearly.

The Gu family was one of Jinling’s rare noble and influential clans. Gu Yuan-ke, this time’s host, was the family’s third young master, twenty-two years of age.

His grandfather had served as Minister of Revenue, and his father had been the Imperial Salt Inspector in Jinling for eight years. Thus the Gu family held connections in the capital, and their standing in Jinling went without saying.

The Xiyuan was a scenic garden built by the Gu family in the outskirts of Jinling. It covered an expansive area and was close to the Qishui River that flowed from the mountains. In this late-spring season of the third month, the scenery was at its peak beauty.

Gu Yuan-ke had studied under a renowned scholar, yet his literary reputation was mediocre. He was widely sociable and loved making friends.

Now that the imperial examinations⁷ had been broadly opened to candidates, they were the main path to success. Gu Yuan-ke likely knew his own chances at official rank through them were slim, and that he would probably have to rely on his family’s influence—at best gaining a sinecure. That may have been why he paid such special attention to men of talent.

Moreover, as he was naturally fond of lively occasions, he had made this event particularly grand.

This Xiyuan Poetry Gathering was open to anyone of learning, regardless of origin or station, allowing them to enjoy fine scenery and fine food.

If a person could make their name here—or catch Gu Yuan-ke’s favorable notice—the benefits would be countless. Hence many people were eager to attend.

As for Zhang En-shi, he was a former schoolmate of the original Xie Shu, though they had never been particularly close and had not seen each other for three years.

This time, Zhang had sent many invitations to former classmates, so his including Xie Shu was not unusual.

Hearing all this, Xie Shu felt much relieved. He had originally worried he might encounter people familiar with the original “him” at the gathering, but it seemed that although the latter had studied at Jinling Academy for several years, he had no real friends there.

And since the host was a young nobleman who did not know the original “him,” even if he attended, few would take much notice—so much the better.

Having made up his mind, Xie Shu told Ximo to prepare ink and brushes so he could write his reply himself.

During his convalescence, with nothing else to do, he had spent much time in bed reading, and had gradually become familiar with the original’s handwriting.

Although not exactly identical, he could imitate it to about eighty percent. With slight modifications, no one would suspect anything; later he could gradually revert to his own style.

After Ximo left with the reply letter, someone knocked on the door—it was the same maid, Feng He, from before.

Feng He hesitated briefly but stated her business, speaking deliberately in a distant tone: “Since you’re here today, the kitchen doesn’t yet know. The Young Lord asked you to come have a meal first.”

In truth, Yu Chuxi’s meals were always prepared separately in the small kitchen of the rear residence, with each dish in fixed portions.

Because of the Young Lord’s sudden decision today, the kitchen had not prepared extra, meaning he would have to give up half his portion to Xie Shu. What was the point of such trouble?

Feng He could not understand whether the Young Lord’s action was a passing whim, or whether he intended from now on to share all three daily meals with Xie Shu…

If it were the former, that was one thing. But if the latter, she feared this Xie Shu might grow accustomed to such favor and, as before, grow disrespectful toward the Young Lord.

Thus she made a point of stressing—it was only for today.

Xie Shu did not take this to heart. Hearing that the Young Lord wished to dine with him, he naturally agreed.

Before long, following Feng He, Xie Shu arrived at the side hall on the first floor, where several maids had already set out an array of exquisite dishes.

Owing to his recent illness, he had been eating very lightly, and his midday meal today had been delayed by matters—so he had not yet eaten. Seeing the food now, he felt his appetite stir. Yet he noticed each dish was in small portions, placed on delicately sized plates.

Immediately, Xie Shu understood—these were originally all meant for the Young Lord alone.

After a while, Yu Chuxi arrived, dressed in casual clothes: a pale white narrow-sleeved robe patterned with paired golden butterflies among blossoms, a long tasseled palace sash at the waist—his bearing even more ethereally refined.

Although they had seen each other earlier that afternoon, the circumstances then had been unusual, the mood altogether different—not like the present, relaxed atmosphere.

Looking at Yu Chuxi, Xie Shu could not help but give a slight smile. “Young Lord.”

Only after speaking did he realize—the Young Lord before him was not only “Shuang’er”⁸, but also his wife. Should he perhaps adjust his manner?

Though Xie Shu already knew this in theory, in his heart he still could not reconcile it. Outwardly, Yu Chuxi seemed no different from any other man—save perhaps for a beauty almost too striking—so he subconsciously treated him as an old friend.

The next moment, Yu Chuxi also looked at him with a smile, and in that instant the weight in Xie Shu’s heart melted away.

Indeed—since the Young Lord could still treat him as before, he ought not to show any strangeness either, so as not to wound his feelings.

With that settled in his mind, Xie Shu took a seat.

The other maids quietly withdrew, and the two of them began eating in silence.

Knowing that this meal was originally the Young Lord’s alone, Xie Shu worried he might not have enough, so he watched closely to see which dishes Yu Chuxi favored.

Yu Chuxi could feel the other’s gaze lightly brushing over him—bringing with it a warmth like breath itself—which made it very hard for him to focus on eating.

In the past, Yu Chuxi had only been aware that Xie Shu liked to look at him, but he had not realized it extended even to mealtimes.

Now, he found his thoughts in complete disarray, his hands moving without him noticing.

It was not until a soft chuckle sounded beside him, sending a tingle to his ears, that he realized something was amiss. It turned out Xie Shu had not been looking at his face at all, but rather at the dishes—deliberately refraining from taking food that Yu Chuxi had chosen.

Realizing he had let his thoughts wander to an entirely different place, while the man before him still wore that guileless smile, Yu Chuxi raised an eyebrow in mock annoyance, deliberately provoking him:

“You’d better eat more. Anyone who didn’t know might think I can’t afford to feed you.”

The moment he said it, Yu Chuxi felt a pang of regret.

He was the sort to never yield when in the right, always making others accommodate him, never the other way around.

People outside all said his temper was fierce, and he did not care what they thought.

But now, he felt the words might have been too much—for no matter how even-tempered a man was, being a live-in son-in-law⁹ inevitably carried some hidden resentment.

Unexpectedly, the smile in Xie Shu’s eyes did not fade in the least—instead it softened into a warm gentleness:

“In daily life, thank you for supporting me, Young Lord. You’ve worked hard.”

notes:

1. Tingyu Courtyard (聽雨苑) — “Courtyard for Listening to Rain,” an elegant name for a residence section, often given poetic names in traditional Chinese architecture.

2. Pepper Chamber (椒房) — An ancient interior decoration method, originally from Han Dynasty palaces, in which Sichuan pepper flowers were ground into plaster for fragrance, warmth, and insect resistance.

3. Kaolin (高嶺土) — A fine, smooth white clay, often used in porcelain-making, here implying high refinement and cost in construction.

4. Young Lord (郎君) — In historical Chinese usage, a polite or affectionate title for a young nobleman, here also referring to the household’s master whom Xie Shu has married.

5. Ximo (洗墨) — Name of Xie Shu’s servant; literally means “wash ink.”

6. Third Day of the Third Month (三月三) — A traditional Chinese festival date associated with spring purification rituals and later with outings and gatherings.

7. Imperial examinations (科舉) — A formal civil service examination system in imperial China, offering the main route to official positions.

8. Shuang’er (雙兒) — Likely a personal/nickname used between Xie Shu and Yu Chuxi in earlier contexts.

9. Live-in son-in-law (入贅) — A man who marries into and resides with his wife’s family, historically viewed with some stigma in Chinese culture.