Chapter Fifty-Three: An Invitation from the Nobility

From Dengfeng in the north, then west from Yanshi, the wide thoroughfare leads to the Eastern Capital of Luoyang. This official road, maintained diligently through the dynasties of Qin, Han, Wei, Jin, Sui, and Tang, was kept smooth and unimpeded, especially as both Emperor Gaozong of Tang and Empress Wu had performed the Fengshan ceremony at Mount Song. Thus, the route was ideal for travel.

That evening, they rested at an inn in Yanshi. The innkeeper, overjoyed at his wife’s recent birth of a son, treated all the guests to a round of drinks. Du Shiyi had little interest in the coarse wine, and the elderly Lu Hong merely sipped lightly, but many of the hearty, outgoing guests drank liberally. Over a dozen guests consumed five or six measures of wine, and as the revelry peaked, the half-drunk men joined hands, singing and dancing. The half-tipsy Lu Wangzhi pressed Du Shiyi to play a tune, now mastered with great skill, as accompaniment—the “Le You Plain.” The lively spectacle was truly impressive.

Though it was but a minor episode on their journey, that night lifted the spirits of Lu Hong, Du Shiyi, and Lu Wangzhi alike.

Early the next morning, they set out. The distance from Yanshi to Luoyang is less than eighty li, and they departed at dawn, traveling until nearly dusk before Luoyang city finally appeared on the horizon. His recollections of Luoyang as a grand fortress were vague, and he remembered the city walls being nine ren high, the moat five zhang deep, but seeing it now was altogether different. As the city at the end of the official road grew ever closer, swallowing his entire view, and they arrived at Jianchun Gate, he raised his eyes to the seemingly endless, towering, majestic outer walls of Luoyang, unable to restrain his admiration.

This was the famed Eastern Capital, Luoyang, equal in prestige to Chang’an!

Jianchun Gate had three entranceways—left, center, and right—each about two zhang wide, paved with blue stone. The group paused briefly beneath the imposing gate tower, whereupon two soldiers approached. Glancing at the leading ox cart, the more seasoned soldier halted his companion who intended to question them, and courteously inquired, “Are you retainers of the Cui family of Yongfeng Ward?”

Du Shiyi rode forward and replied, “We have come from Dengfeng, and this ox cart was lent by Cui Shiyi Lang of Yongfeng Ward.”

Having seen the Cui family mark atop the cart, but now learning they were not of the Cui clan, the soldier’s brow furrowed, and he asked more seriously, “Do you have official travel papers, or passage permits from the prefecture?”

Dengfeng County falls under Henan Prefecture, and to obtain official papers or a permit would require a trip to Luoyang, the seat of the prefecture—essentially a round journey. Therefore, Du Shiyi smiled and said, “Due to the urgency of our schedule, we did not report to the prefecture. However, we have a royal summons that may be examined.”

Hearing that they lacked official papers, the seasoned soldier’s face darkened, even if they rode in a Cui family cart. Yet upon mention of a royal summons, he gasped, hurriedly saluted, and said, “I did not realize you are scholars summoned by His Majesty—please forgive my neglect! Kindly wait here. I am from the Left Imperial Guard, on duty at Jianchun Gate today; I will immediately report to my captain.”

After saluting, he dashed off, leaving the other soldier to direct the waiting crowd to take a detour and guided them to the far right entrance. Waiting in the open space beside the right gate, Du Shiyi noticed that this entrance’s stone road had four wheel grooves, allowing two carts to enter simultaneously. The leftmost gate was busy with carts and horses leaving the city, while the central gate was reserved for pedestrians, the traffic flowing in perfect order. Soon, an officer in military attire strode out with the previous soldier, his hair and beard slightly curled, stature tall and robust, bearing traces of foreign blood.

“Are you travelers from Dengfeng? Has the great recluse of Mount Song, Master Lu, arrived?” The officer was clearly well-informed, addressing them politely. Upon confirmation, and seeing an elderly man seated inside the cart, he stepped forward, respectfully requested the royal summons for inspection, and returned it with a smile, saying, “Last year, when Li Gong, the Crown Prince’s attendant, returned to the Eastern Capital via Jianchun Gate, he mentioned this matter and asked all guard units to be alert. Over time, most had forgotten, but Master Lu has indeed arrived—what luck! With little time left before the curfew drum sounds, and as Master Lu has not visited the Eastern Capital in many years, the Ministry of Rites may not be notified in time today. Since you ride in a Cui family cart, why not let me lead you to the Zhao Duke’s residence in Yongfeng Ward?”

Lu Hong hesitated, then shook his head. “It is late; troubling others would be improper. I recall there is a tranquil inn at the northeast corner of Quanshan Ward near the western South Market. Let us lodge there tonight and visit the Ministry of Rites tomorrow. This way, we can enter the ward before curfew and avoid breaking the night ban.”

The officer merely made the suggestion; seeing Lu Hong firm in his decision, he did not press further. He led them through the right gate, summoned a soldier to bring a horse, mounted, and rode ahead as their guide.

Jianchun Gate Street ran east-west through Luoyang, seventy-five steps wide, shaded by trees on both sides. The central imperial road was reserved for the emperor’s carriage, flanked by carriageways for vehicles, and pedestrian paths for the populace at the outer edges. With dusk approaching, Du Shiyi saw only a few hurried travelers and carriages, all striving to return home before the curfew. As the officer escorted them to Quanshan Ward’s gate, a drumbeat sounded from the twilight. Soon, other drums joined in, clearly the closing drum towers along the main avenues.

With the ward’s military chief informed that Lu Hong was a scholar summoned by royal decree, the officer took his leave. Du Shiyi asked his name, but he refused to leave it, insisting it was a minor favor. Pressed repeatedly, he finally revealed with a smile that he was Kang Tinglan, captain of the Left Imperial Guard. Du Shiyi, recalling the local produce gifted by Cui Weizhi from Dengfeng, quickly wrapped some sour dates as a token for him, which delighted Kang Tinglan.

After this brief episode, the ward gate was firmly shut, and the sky darkened. Though the ward’s military chief was unfamiliar with Lu Hong’s reputation, he was still highly respectful, escorting them to the inn and instructing the innkeeper repeatedly before departing. As before, Lu Wangzhi gifted a small bag of sour dates—though humble, the chief thanked him with a smile and, departing, popped one into his mouth.

The official road from Dengfeng to Luoyang was just over two hundred li. They traveled four days, lodging not at postal stations but in villages and the Yanshi inn for three nights. Now, having finally arrived in Luoyang, after supper, each retired early to rest. Yet as Du Shiyi had just settled in his room, he heard a gentle knock at the door.

“My lord, my lord.”

The voice was unfamiliar, so Du Shiyi hesitated a moment before asking behind the door, “Who is it?”

“It is I, Cui Bing.”

Unbolting and opening the door a crack, Du Shiyi saw a Cui family servant standing outside. After bowing, the servant spoke with a troubled expression, “Master Du, someone has delivered an invitation. Having learned that the renowned recluse of Mount Song, Master Lu, has arrived in Luoyang by royal summons, and greatly admiring such virtuous gentlemen, they have sent an invitation to request Master Lu’s attendance at a banquet.”

Du Shiyi was startled, frowning, “We have only just settled in—how does someone have such swift news?”

“It is the brother of Empress Zhaocheng, Duke Bi, Dou Xiguan, who also resides in Quanshan Ward. It appears Master Lu was seen entering the ward, and word was sent to the Duke.”

The name Dou Xiguan conjured an image in Du Shiyi’s mind: a burly, corpulent elder, seated in a lavish hall, surrounded by glittering displays, countless concubines and maids adorned in jewels and silks, guests feasting amidst extravagant luxury. Knowing that he had frequented the Dou household in his past, Du Shiyi had often encountered Duke Bi. He pondered briefly, took the gold-stamped invitation, and upon seeing Dou Xiguan’s signature in bold calligraphy, closed it and nodded, “Go ahead, I’ll discuss it with my senior brother.”

In Lu Wangzhi’s room, he glanced at the invitation and tossed it onto a nearby table with a half-smile, saying, “Master Lu is surely too weary from the journey—let us not trouble him. Junior brother, let us two go and see for ourselves what splendor the noble residences of Luoyang hold.”

Du Shiyi knew well that Lu Wangzhi was habitually indifferent, never interested in such occasions. Yet now, seeing a gleam in his eyes—whether anticipation or something else—Du Shiyi could not help but worry, blurting out, “Senior brother, you too must be tired from traveling. Why don’t I go alone?”

“Oh?” Lu Wangzhi widened his eyes, then suddenly laughed. Striding over, he pressed a heavy hand on Du Shiyi’s shoulder and said meaningfully, “Then I’ll leave it all to you, junior brother. Tomorrow, don’t tell Shiyi Lang that I lacked spirit, letting you face the flames alone… Ah, I am truly exhausted!”

He yawned, stretched broadly, and then collapsed onto his bed, lying flat on his back. Du Shiyi was left astonished. Only then did he realize that Lu Wangzhi never intended to join the festivities; he merely feigned interest to prompt Du Shiyi’s concern, thus easily shifting all responsibility onto him. Facing his silent yet calculating senior brother, Du Shiyi patted his forehead, chiding himself for his foolishness.

Of all people, the one most averse to trouble is surely senior brother, and yet here he was worrying about others inviting trouble!