Chapter 72: The Naive Madman

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PS: For the last time, I’m placing this PS at the beginning of the chapter; for the sake of keeping the chapters tidy, please get in the habit of glancing at the author’s note at the end of each chapter in the future. For those reading on their phones, you can also read on Tencent Books (QQ Book City), which is updated simultaneously. As always, I ask for your recommendation votes—my ranking has dropped again.

“Master Du, Master Wang is a man of proud self-regard, always pushing his advantage. In the past, whenever he encountered someone less talented, he would let loose with sarcasm at literary and poetry gatherings, then go on to trumpet his own name and suppress the voices of others. If you choose to yield and avoid his edge, I fear you’ll only suffer for it. What’s more, he once wrote to Censor Gao seeking an official post, and his words were most arrogant and reckless—a glimpse into his character.”

Du Shiyi turned his head slightly. Behind him, a maid in azure stepped forward with a smile to pour his wine. She was the very same who had attended Princess Yuzhen earlier, when she’d arranged the wine lots as he’d suggested. He immediately regained his composure. Whether this was by the princess’s instruction or the maid’s own initiative, he couldn’t say, but since Wang Lingran was so relentless in taking advantage, he could hardly afford to act too meekly. With this thought, he simply smiled and nodded. “Master Wang speaks truly. In that case, may I trouble your esteemed mistress to have those previous wine lots brought out?”

Under the eyes of all present, Princess Yuzhen nodded. Shortly after, another maid appeared, carrying a lot-tube with both hands. The tube was entirely gilt, with a faintly discernible landscape at its base, and above, a double-petaled lotus bearing the tube itself, engraved with patterns of tortoises and cranes. The maid looked up at Princess Yuzhen, then gently twisted off the golden lid and held the tube up for everyone to see, finally placing it carefully on a tall stand before the head table.

Most of the guests had visited this villa more than once, and now, seeing that the wine lots were not the usual gold and jade tokens but ordinary bamboo slips, they were all a little surprised. At this point, Du Shiyi leaned in and quietly instructed the maid behind him, who immediately responded and left. Only then did he smile and say, “Just now, your mistress told me that while there are several sets of wine lots here, using them over and over becomes tedious, so she asked me to create a new set. I’m not quick-witted, so after two quarters of an hour, I managed only twenty. Since Master Wang says I am too young to command respect, which I agree with, would you be so kind as to display your talent and compose the remaining thirty yourself?”

Wang Lingran’s eyes lit up at the prospect of composing new lots for the customary game. Since achieving his degree last year, he had yet to be given an official post. He’d tried his luck at the residences of various officials, writing letters of self-introduction wherever he had the faintest connection, but so far, all had vanished without a trace. If not for a chance encounter that led him to Princess Yuzhen’s door, he’d have still been blundering about like a headless fly, despite his best efforts to display his talent at the last two banquets. If, this time, he could overshadow Du Nineteen—whom the princess clearly favored—she would surely recommend him!

Just then, the man seated beside him smiled encouragingly. Remembering that he’d been called Yao Dalang—the eldest grandson of the retired Grand Chancellor Yao Chong—Wang Lingran’s spirits rose, and he readily agreed, “Nothing could be easier. Bring me the lots!”

When two maids brought over the stand and the tube, and another smiling maid presented blank bamboo slips and writing implements, he carelessly drew out the lots Du Shiyi had already composed. Glancing at the handwriting, he laughed lightly, “Master Du’s brushwork is delicate—almost feminine!”

But as he finished speaking and read the lines on the first lot, his expression shifted. He hadn’t noticed the subtle reactions of the other guests around him. He picked up another slip, his face changing again after reading it. By the time he had read all twenty, his earlier confidence and smugness had vanished completely. There were still thirty to go, and it would be hard enough to match Du Shiyi’s twenty, let alone surpass them. What’s more, every line Du Shiyi had written touched on the matter of wine, with only a few borrowed from the ancients; the rest were mostly original. Even if Wang Lingran dredged up all his past works, it seemed he would still fall short of thirty!

Wang Lingran was arrogant and caustic, but everyone knew he was genuinely talented, and among last year’s successful candidates, he was the youngest. To see him go from brimming with confidence to utterly lost was something all present noticed. Interest in what Du Shiyi had written on those lots grew. Princess Yuzhen glanced at Wang Lingran, who sat pen in hand, unable to write a word, remembering how he had so freely criticized her calligraphy earlier, and she grew all the more displeased.

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To be proud of one’s talent is common among the gifted, but this man’s arrogance was excessive. No wonder Prince Qi had warned her so pointedly when he heard Wang Lingran was visiting her residence!

Meanwhile, Du Shiyi saw that Wang Lingran, brow furrowed, was still struggling to compose the wine lots. Having gone out early and only snacked at noon, Du felt the pangs of hunger and began eating the dried skewers and the small bowl of dumplings brought by the maid, washing it all down with a cup of Fuping Stone-Spring wine. Then he looked again toward Wang Lingran. The man’s forehead glistened with sweat—whether from the heat or the difficulty of the task, it was hard to say. The other guests, none willing to volunteer their help, whispered in small groups; some even laughed openly.

At that moment, Du noticed a pale jade hand appear before him. Looking up, he saw it was the same azure-clad maid who had warned him earlier, now kneeling to pour his wine. When she finished and saluted, about to rise, he asked, “You mentioned earlier that Master Wang wrote to Censor Gao seeking a post, his words quite outrageous. What was the reason?”

The maid paused, glanced at Wang Lingran, then turned back and replied softly, “Perhaps you are unaware, Master Du. Last year, Master Wang gained his degree, but the Ministry of Personnel’s selection process sometimes relies on seniority, sometimes on luck—one must wait for an opening, and ‘three years waiting for a post’ is not an empty phrase. Master Wang and Censor Gao hail from the same region, so he wrote to him for help. Some of his words were as follows…”

She paused, then fluently recited: “Long have I marveled at you… The disgrace you have visited upon me, I shall never forget, and for that reason, I write again, and you have read my letter many times, encouraging me by your repeated consideration. When you presided over the exam, you selected me for a place; I accepted the appointment hesitantly, crawling back in submission: a year in Chang’an, a year in Luoyang, a year at home. Last winter, in the tenth month, I was sent; this spring, in the third month, I succeeded. Though previously you did not recommend me, today I have reached the clouds by my own hand. There are few successful scholars in all the land north of the river; I alone am worthy. My glory is great, though you may not know it. You must show me further favor, to erase my former shame; if not, I will find a way to show myself elsewhere. Such is the fate of old friends meeting again. My present lowly state is what yours once was; your former troubles are mine today…”

She had recited a lengthy piece. Seeing Du Shiyi’s face change subtly, she smiled and continued, “The earlier lines were merely full of complaint, but the last few are even more astonishing: ‘I hope, sir, that this year you will find a wife for me, next year a post; if you have the power, what harm is it to forget old grudges and speak nothing of them? If you show me this favor, I will wear it above my head. Should you forget, and men of talent be hard to come by, one day I will take you unawares, stand beside you in the court, and look askance at you—then you will regret and apologize, but what could I do? I was raised in the wilds, and my words may offend. I enclose several poems; after three days apart, do not see me with old eyes. A simple man from Shandong, ignorant of taboos. Lingran bows his head.’”

If the earlier section merely showed this fellow to be petty and lacking in grace, the final demands left Du Shiyi dumbfounded. They were only fellow provincials, with no particular friendship beforehand, yet Wang Lingran began by boasting of his own success, then launched into accusations, concluding with veiled threats—he wanted not only a post but a wife as well, and if refused, promised that should he one day stand as an equal in court, he would treat Censor Gao with scorn! As much as he tried to suppress it, Du Shiyi could not help but laugh softly in the end.

This Wang Lingran’s innocence was truly something he’d never encountered before! Yet, there was a certain straightforward charm in it.

He laughed for a while, then looked at the maid with interest. “That you can recite such a letter from memory is impressive! Thank you for the warning today.”

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“You are too kind, Master. My mistress already instructed me: should you have any questions, I am to answer them fully and without reservation.”

“What is your name?”

“Thank you for asking, Master.” The azure-clad maid bowed deeply again, then replied softly, “I am Huo Qing, maidservant in close attendance to my mistress.”

She was both lovely and refined in speech—clearly a favorite of Princess Yuzhen. Du Shiyi nodded and looked away. Meanwhile, Wang Lingran was still lost in thought, his face flushed, while the other guests, mostly bored, grew ever louder in their mocking remarks. Considering Wang Lingran’s arrogance and naïve charm, Du Shiyi thought that sometimes the one who ties the knot must also untie it. He coughed loudly. When Princess Yuzhen, evidently in good spirits, looked his way and the others quieted down, he stood and said, “There are but a dozen or so guests today. If only Master Wang and I exhaust ourselves over these lots while the rest of you look on, it’s rather unfair. Why not have each of you compose a lot or two, so that together we might complete this set?”

Princess Yuzhen, seeing Wang Lingran drenched in sweat, though disliking his arrogance, did not wish to overly embarrass him. She nodded and smiled, “Let it be as Du Nineteen suggests. Huo Qing, fetch the completed lots for everyone to see.”

Though many had just laughed at Wang Lingran for boasting and failing, once Huo Qing passed around the bamboo lots on a wooden tray, the hall fell silent. As all eyes surreptitiously observed him, Du Shiyi remained calm, sipping his wine and quietly exhaling.

With this experience, perhaps in the future no one would so readily assume he was a callow youth, an easy target to be pinched and squeezed. He could relax a little now!

When the lots reached Yao Hong, he examined each one and immediately distinguished which were written by Wang Lingran and which by Du Shiyi. He could appreciate that not only were Du Shiyi’s lots composed by Princess Yuzhen’s own hand, but each line was exquisite and rare. Otherwise, how could Wang Lingran, famed since childhood and last year’s nineteenth-ranked graduate at only twenty-six, be so thoroughly discomfited? Now that his grandfather had retired from office, the Yao family’s prestige was intact, but their faction at court was waning. The Cui family’s closeness with Du Shiyi was a clear investment in the future. As the Yao family’s eldest grandson, he too must cultivate connections with worthy individuals, to prepare for what lies ahead.