Chapter Seventy-Five: Clearing the Table in Anticipation of a Kindred Spirit

Though Cui Wuniang had warmly invited both Du Shiyi and Du Shisanniang to move into the Cui family residence at Yongfeng Lane, Du Shiyi ultimately declined, citing his imminent return to the mountains. After seeing off the two Cui sisters, he considered how quiet the courtyard would be tonight, as Lu Hongyi, Lu Wangzhi, and Pei Ning were already on their way back. So, he instructed the innkeeper to set up a brazier and an iron box filled with charcoal in the courtyard, and to prepare fresh lamb. Then he called for Du Shisanniang, Zhu Ying, and Tian Mo to join him by the fire to roast the meat.

Even though the meat had not been marinated beforehand and the seasoning was limited to salt, fennel, minced ginger, and garlic—rather simple—at first, Du Shiyi struggled with the heat and his skewers turned out blackened. After a few rounds, however, he gradually mastered the technique. Du Shisanniang had a modest appetite; after three or four skewers, she was nearly full, yet each time Du Shiyi handed her another, she could not help but accept it and eat in silence. Just as she took another skewer from Du Shiyi, splitting it off from the bunch, she was overtaken by a loud, involuntary burp before she could bring it to her lips, and her face instantly flushed crimson.

“What a delicious aroma… Is Young Lord Du Nineteen here?”

Hearing Du Shisanniang’s burp and seeing her lips glistening with oil, Du Shiyi was about to ask Zhu Ying to fetch a soft cloth for her, when a familiar voice sounded from outside. By now, night had fully descended; if not for the glow of the charcoal and the light spilling from the rooms, the courtyard would have been pitch dark. Squinting toward the gate, Du Shiyi recognized the voice and smiled. “I wondered who it could be—it’s Young Lord Wang Thirteen!”

Stepping into the courtyard, Wang Wei immediately noticed the charcoal fire, and the tantalizing aroma wafting from it made his mouth water. Approaching, he saw Du Shiyi personally roasting the skewers, Du Shisanniang’s cheeks flushed from the heat, and the Kunlun slave and another maid he had seen before standing nearby, clearly there only to eat while their master did the work. Amused, Wang Wei laughed. “I happened to visit a friend on Hairpin Pavilion Hill. Upon my return, I learned that Lord Lu had received an imperial summons, and, having been granted office, had already left for the mountains. I missed the chance to bid him farewell! Yet I heard you were invited by Princess Yuzhen and should still be in the Eastern Capital, so I came to find you. Who would have thought you’d be in such high spirits—having attended a banquet at noon, and now grilling meat outdoors for your own amusement!”

“At today’s luncheon at the noble guesthouse, there were over ten guests. Though the food and wine were sumptuous, everyone was racking their brains to showcase their talents, while I kept my head down and focused on eating, managing only to half-satisfy my hunger. Then, after hurrying back from the guesthouse and meeting the two Cui ladies, I found myself famished, so I am indulging heartily now.” With that, Du Shiyi smiled. “Would Young Lord Wang care to try some?”

“I’d better not,” Wang Wei replied, eyeing the fragrant skewers with longing but keeping his distance. He forced a wry smile. “Today is the eighth of the second month, a day for vegetarian fare… If I’d known, I wouldn’t have come at this time!”

Du Shisanniang, curious, asked, “Why does Young Lord Wang keep a vegetarian diet?”

“My mother is a disciple of Master Pujing,” Wang Wei answered with a gentle smile, his handsome features softened by the firelight. “She wears coarse robes, eats vegetables, observes precepts, and finds joy in solitary meditation in the mountains. Following her example, I have been devoted to Buddhism since childhood. I have not completely abstained from meat and fish, but on every even-numbered day of the month, I refrain from eating meat, as I have done for many years. On other days, I eat little meat at all.”

Du Shiyi was startled, glancing down at the sizzling, oil-dripping skewers. He chuckled, “So that’s the reason! Alas, I have not a single vegetable on hand… Thirteen, please show Brother Wang into the house; I’ll join you shortly.”

“Yes, brother. Young Lord Wang, please come in.” Du Shisanniang, unable to finish her skewer, handed it off to Tian Mo, then, with Zhu Ying, led Wang Wei into the house. Du Shiyi continued to roast and eat the lamb without reservation, and when he was at last satisfied, he left the rest for Tian Mo, who was overjoyed. Du Shiyi then strolled out to speak with the innkeeper, inquiring what other ingredients were available. Learning that the Cui sisters had brought over a variety of fresh vegetables during their visit, he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

So, Cui Wuniang had invited him and Thirteen to reside at her home, but had already anticipated his refusal!

“The vegetables from the Cui family include some of the rarest kinds for this season,” the innkeeper said, beaming with pride at having such distinguished guests. “There are even a few cucumbers! They’re not found in the markets this time of year—said to be grown with warm spring water for the palace’s private use.”

Du Shiyi, skeptical of the claim about spring water—knowing that such conditions would kill the plants and that greenhouse cultivation was now common—realized these cucumbers were what would later be called “yellow cucumbers.” He instructed, “Select one or two cucumbers, slice them into long strips for a cold dish, and choose three other fresh vegetables suitable for cold salads. Bring them to my room for my guest.”

Having shown Wang Wei into the house, Du Shisanniang fetched a few books her brother often carried and told Zhu Ying to attend nearby for any need. She herself withdrew behind a folding screen. Wang Wei, glancing at the books, began leafing through them, soon recognizing that although they were handwritten, their format matched those of the newly printed Buddhist scriptures he’d seen in bookstores and temples. It dawned on him that a Chan master at Jingai Monastery had once joked that “Du’s script” was the best style for scriptures, and that Buddhist temples in the Eastern Capital now used it for printing sutras. He straightened and read thoughtfully, but after a long wait, Du Shiyi did not appear. Instead, the innkeeper arrived bearing a meal tray.

“Young Lord Du says, please dine first. He’ll join you soon.”

A bowl of plain congee and four kinds of fresh, chilled vegetables surprised Wang Wei, but he quickly understood it was Du Shiyi’s thoughtful preparation upon learning of his vegetarian practice. Hungry from travel and tempted by the aroma of roasted meat, he needed no further invitation and began to eat. Such fresh vegetables were rare in the market at this season, even for one who frequented noble houses as he did. Tasting each, he immediately recognized their exceptional provenance and could not help but display a subtle smile.

After changing his clothes and entering with hair still damp, Du Shiyi found Wang Wei had finished every bite. Seeing that Du Shisanniang and Zhu Ying had quietly withdrawn, Wang Wei stared in curiosity at the newly bathed Du Shiyi, who laughed and explained, “Since you’re abstaining from meat today, I thought it best to wash away the smell of roasting before seeing you. I asked the innkeeper to prepare that light meal for you—the vegetables were just sent by the Cui family. Not trusting the kitchen’s skill, I had them served as simple salads.”

It was only last night at the Duke Bi’s residence that they had met and found such rapport, and already, because he’d mentioned his vegetarian practice, Du Shiyi had taken it to heart!

In the past two years, Wang Wei had lived away from home, moving between the two capitals and the powerful households, appearing to enjoy boundless favor. Even princes had treated him as a friend. Yet with men like Prince Song and Prince Qi, he had always to be cautious, and behind his confident facade, there was another kind of solitude. Knowing that words of gratitude would spoil the mood, he simply smiled and pointed to the books on the couch. “Your sister, concerned I might be bored alone, brought me some books to read. Though handwritten, they are in the common Du-style script found in the market. Might you tell me how this came to be?”

Seeing Wang Wei’s smiling face, and guessing he had already surmised the truth, Du Shiyi answered directly, “When I lived at the foot of Mount Junji, copying texts for Master Sima, I had the idea to use this format and suggested to Master Sima that it would make printing and dissemination easier. He later had several books proofread and printed in this style, which is probably why it spread. As for the name ‘Du-style script,’ I truly know nothing of its origin.”

“So it was your idea after all!” Wang Wei laughed and then sighed. “The day you went to the Cui home, I woke from a drunken sleep and was fortunate enough to meet Lord Lu, who kindly answered my long-held questions. I meant to visit more friends and return to see Lord Lu, but he departed for Mount Song so quickly. Now with my younger brother soon arriving in the capital, I cannot follow you to Mount Song, but I hope to visit Lord Lu in the future to hear his teachings. By the way, when do you set out?”

“Master Lu mentioned that you are a rare talent, Brother Wang. If you go to Mount Song, he’ll surely be delighted. As for me, I’ll leave once Cui Eleven is ready. The Eastern Capital is not far from Mount Song—riding fast with a few attendants, we can make the journey in two or three days.”

“Oh?” Wang Wei furrowed his brow, then asked quietly, “Do you remember Liu Ximing from the Duke Bi’s household?”

“Of course.” Remembering how Liu had opposed him at every turn, Du Shiyi frowned. “Why do you mention him?”

“I heard a bit of gossip,” Wang Wei replied after a moment’s hesitation. “It’s said that Liu had hoped to be recommended by the Capital Prefecture this year, but after his confrontation with you at the Duke Bi’s, and his attempt to use Jiang Four’s influence, he ended up embarrassing himself. Afterwards, for reasons unknown, Jiang Four made the events of that night widely known, and with Lord Lu’s refusal of office and his growing fame, the story has spread through the Eastern Capital. So, at least this year, Liu Ximing has little hope of being recommended, and may not even get a chance. As for next year’s examinations, it will be even harder. I fear he, and his family, now bear a grudge against you. You ought to be cautious.”