The Azure Mountain

Chapter 66: The Good Times

Chen Wenzong stood by the desk, holding a sheet of xuan paper and silently reciting line after line of autumn poetry, serene as jade.

For reasons he couldn't quite explain, a wisp of wistfulness and regret stirred in his heart.

What he regretted was that apart from that one verse about "withered vines, ancient trees, twilight crows," every other poem consisted of only a single line. A single line taken on its own could certainly be exquisite, but it ultimately lacked a complete artistic vision and couldn't be considered a finished work.

Chen Wenzong was about to set the xuan paper down, yet picked it up again... it was precisely this incomplete sense of longing that made his heart itch with curiosity.

He studied the handwriting of the poems: the calligraphy was delicate and refined, certainly not the Prince Heir's work.

Chen Wenzong recalled that earlier, when the maidservant had drawn back the curtain, it was Commandery Princess Baili who had been holding the brush. Could the princess have written them? Next time he saw the princess, he would absolutely have to ask what the complete versions of these poems looked like.

This eldest legitimate son of the Chen Estate in Luo City had been so captivated by the poetry that he had completely forgotten his own younger brother Chen Ji had also been present at the gathering.

"Elder brother, what's wrong? Why are you standing there without moving?" Chen Wenxiao asked.

"Hm? I'm reading poetry," Chen Wenzong snapped back to reality.

At that moment, Lin Chaojing also rose and strolled over, wanting to see what Chen Wenzong was holding: "Is it poetry written by that Prince Heir? Back when we were at Donglin Academy, I advised him not to cause trouble at the academy, but he simply refused to listen..."As he spoke, the moment Lin Chaojing saw the nine lines of poetry in Chen Wenzong's hands, he too froze in his tracks.

More and more people gathered around the desk. Commandery Princess Baili had written on three sheets of xuan paper in total, and now those three sheets circulated through different hands.

Two maidservants approached, smiling as they announced: "Esteemed gentlemen, our lady has arrived!"

But what they saw was Courtesan Liu ascending the wooden staircase step by step. She appeared to be around eighteen or nineteen, and her looks weren't particularly dazzling — compared to the meticulously made-up women of Red Clothe Lane, she was rather plain.

Yet her eyes held a lively, shifting gleam — a vivid sort of charm.

When Liu Su reached the upper floor, she found every scholar and gentleman clustered around a single desk, not one of them sparing her a glance.

A maidservant moved to call attention to their guest again, but Liu Su stopped her with a smile. She tiptoed over, leaned in with a beaming grin, and asked one of the scholars: "What's everyone looking at?"

Only when the fragrant breeze reached him did the scholar react: "Ah, we're reading poetry."

Liu Su looked at the verses on the xuan paper and asked curiously: "Oh? Which young gentleman wrote these?"

"The Prince Heir of Prince Jing's Estate wrote them. He's already left."

"Left?" Liu Su walked to the window and leaned against the lattice frame, peering down from the Embroidery Building. Below, the Prince Heir and his companions were chatting, laughing, and roughhousing their way out of the building.

The view below was far more interesting than anything upstairs.

Liu Su smiled and murmured: "They look like such a lively bunch. I'd rather like to keep them for drinks — or even go out and drink with them."

The maidservant blinked: "My lady, what should we do now? Shall I go invite them back?"

Liu Su smiled gently: "No need. Interesting people are best admired from a distance. Get too close and they stop being quite so interesting. Come on, we've still got a roomful of boring men to attend to."

"Then shall we fill the three empty seats with other guests?"

"Sure, their money spends the same."

......

......

When the Prince Heir emerged from the Embroidery Building, he had clearly been driven out in anger, yet he strode forth as proudly as a general fresh from victory.

Someone by the entrance spotted him and wondered: "Didn't the Prince Heir go into the Embroidery Building? How is he back out so quickly?"

The Prince Heir laughed without a shred of shame: "Can't write poetry, so I came back out!"

"Did you see Courtesan Liu?"

"Didn't see her. Good thing I didn't spend any silver — would've been a total loss!"

By now, the blue stone path along White Clothe Lane was lined with elegant lanterns hung from every household — shaped like koi fish, like miniature pavilions, each one exquisitely crafted and charming.

The street was filled with scholars and refined gentlemen, each versed in everything from astronomy to geography.

The Prince Heir and his crew sauntered down this little lane without a care, sticking out like sore thumbs.

Once they were well away from the Embroidery Building, the Prince Heir leaned in and whispered to Baili: "I didn't do anything wrong today, did I?"

Baili smiled: "Not at all. You're my brother, after all — better to be decisive and clean about things."

"Hehe," the Prince Heir straightened his robes with a satisfied tug. "They look down on us? Well, we look down on them right back! Since we can't beat them at poetry, we simply won't compete anymore!"

Baili's eyes curved into happy crescents: "Exactly. What's the point of competing back and forth?"

Liu Quxing chimed in: "Did you see the way Lin Chaojing was showing off just now? Like a peacock spreading its tail."

She Dengke grumbled: "You haven't learned much of Master's medical skills, but you've certainly inherited his talent for roasting people..."

Everyone burst out laughing, and the unpleasantness from moments ago was swept clean away.

At that point, Liang Gou'er asked: "Prince Heir, where are we headed now? To Golden Workshop in Red Clothe Lane, or somewhere else?"

The Prince Heir waved his hand: "Not Red Clothe Lane yet. The little monk should be done with his prayers by now; let's pick him up first, then head to Golden Workshop together! Something this fun — how can we leave him behind? We even hauled the cripple out, what's one more monk?"

Chen Ji: "...Then after we get back to the estate, can you just drop me off at the clinic and forget I exist? I don't want to go drinking."

"No!"

"Come on, back to the estate to get the little monk — nobody gets left behind!"

"Get the little monk!"

Chen Ji watched helplessly as this pack of lunatics threw their arms around each other's shoulders, cackling and grinning, and on a whim decided to walk over half an hour back to the estate to fetch the little monk, then walk another half hour back to the Eastern Market...

It was the way all young people once were — recklessly bold and carefree with their time. As long as you still stood gracefully within the arms of youth, the world would forgive you after a single night's sleep.

At some point, the mundane world would convince you that this was wrong.

But when you stood at the twilight of your years and looked back, you would suddenly realize there was never any right or wrong, success or failure. The days when you and your friends stood on tables singing at the top of your lungs until dawn, when a glimpse of the girl you liked was enough to make you grin like a fool — those were the truly good times.

Because you could never go back.

Chen Ji asked: "Commandery Princess Baili, is your brother always this crazy?"

Commandery Princess Baili smiled softly: "He's usually even crazier than this. Two years ago, when he came back to Luo City for the Lantern Festival, he drank too much and insisted on going to Tuoluo Temple to ring the bell. He and a few of his rascal friends snuck over the wall in the dead of night, and the bell woke up hundreds of families nearby. Father hung him from a ceiling beam and beat him for an entire day."

"Why did he want to ring the bell?!"

"He said he wanted to wake up all the people in the world who couldn't be woken..."

Chen Ji felt a surge of genuine respect: "Well, he certainly woke up quite a few."

"The reason I follow him out now is because I'm worried he'll do something equally outrageous again."

"Worried about your brother getting beaten?"

Baili shook her head: "Last time, Father was so exhausted from beating him all day that he fell ill. It took him a full half month to recover. Father is already busy and worn out — if my brother sends him into another rage, that wouldn't be good at all."

Chen Ji: "...Such deep father-daughter love."

......

......

By the time the group had fetched the little monk and returned to the Eastern Market, it was already deep into the night.

Red Clothe Lane was still blazing with light, two rows of red lanterns strung from one end of the street to the other, like fireworks that would never burn out.

When Liang Gou'er passed between buildings carrying the bamboo chair, the girls upstairs giggled and waved their handkerchiefs: "If it isn't Brother Gou'er! Which rich patron are you mooching off tonight for a night of drinking? Stop going to Golden Workshop to see that Yan'er girl — you can't outdrink her anyway. Come drink with me instead, two cups and I'll be flat on my back!"

Liang Gou'er shot back with a laugh: "I'm not drinking with you — I'm afraid you'll drain my yang energy!"

The girl upstairs let loose a string of curses: "Liang Gou'er, you've spent enough on drinks there for that Yan'er to open a whole second Golden Workshop! You've been played and you still won't listen — what she's been drinking with you isn't wine, it's water!"

Liang Gou'er kept carrying the bamboo chair forward, walking and laughing as he called back: "And I'm happy about it!"

At that moment, a stunningly beautiful girl emerged from Golden Workshop to greet them: "Brother Gou'er, you're here!"

Liang Gou'er broke into a broad grin: "Yan'er, don't go attending to any other guests tonight. Have the girls come take care of our table — don't let my new friends feel neglected."

Yan'er glanced at the silver-threaded python robe on the Prince Heir and beamed: "Absolutely!"

She led everyone up to the second floor and arranged a spacious private booth. Dishes and wine flowed to their table like a banquet without end, no two plates alike.

Before long, a flock of girls swept in on a wave of perfume. Baili glanced at them, then pointed at Chen Ji: "He doesn't need company. He's injured."

At that moment, one of the girls moved to sit on the Prince Heir's lap. The Prince Heir glanced nervously at Baili and laughed awkwardly: "That won't do, that won't do — just drinks will be fine."

Just then, a guest outside was saying: "Have you heard? That good-for-nothing Prince Heir from Prince Jing's Estate wrote twelve lines of poetry at the Embroidery Building."

"Oh? How were they?"

"Ha! You know Lin Chaojing? The one most likely to compete with Chen Wenzong for Top Provincial Candidate this year? He said the Prince Heir's verses were utter nonsense. Each poem was only half-written, every single one incomplete. Who knows where he picked them up — or perhaps he simply bought them."

"What did everyone else say?"

"Everyone said the same thing — that the Prince Heir's talent only stretches far enough to cobble together half a verse."

"Well, he is the good-for-nothing Prince Heir."

Inside the Prince Heir's booth, everything went quiet. He drained a large bowl of wine, exhaled a breath heavy with fumes, and asked: "Miss, tell me — how's this line: 'Autumn arrives at the frontier, the scenery transforms; southward fly the geese to Hengyang, without a backward glance'?"

The girl laughed: "Darling, I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

The Prince Heir scratched his head and tried again: "What about 'Fresh rain in empty mountains, autumn coming with the evening air' — is that any good?"

The girl refilled his wine with a smile: "Prince Heir, please don't torment me. If you want to impress girls with poetry, you should go to White Clothe Lane. Here in Red Clothe Lane, you're better off filling your cup first — we've got no room for scholars and their verses!"

The Prince Heir blinked, then threw his head back in laughter: "This place is perfect! Absolutely perfect! I can't stand those scholars either!"

The girl covered her mouth and giggled: "We do get middle-aged scholars who sneak into Red Clothe Lane from time to time. Before bed, they'll quietly pop a virility pill with their wine and tell me to wait, don't rush. While the pill hasn't kicked in yet, he'll chat with me about Han Dynasty history, classical philosophy, everything from astronomy to geography — and I'd be so impressed. Then the moment the pill kicks in, I ask him where the star Sirius is, and he says, 'Never mind that — hurry up and take your clothes off.'"

The little monk listened with his face burning crimson, chanting sutras as he listened, listening as he chanted.

The Prince Heir thought back to what the other guests had said. It turned out the poetry he had once yearned for so desperately wasn't nearly as important as he'd imagined: "When I first arrived at Donglin Academy, I saw Chen Wenzong and Lin Chaojing composing verses and exchanging couplets, and I was dying with envy. How could they be so elegant, so poised and romantic, while I couldn't? I wondered — if I could write something as beautiful as 'If life could always be as it was at first meeting, why should the autumn wind trouble the painted fan,' would I finally be able to stand among them? Today it suddenly hit me — we were never people of the same world. There's no need to force it."

The Prince Heir raised his oversized bowl toward Chen Ji in a distant toast: "I'm sorry your poems were disgraced alongside me."

Chen Ji smiled and consoled him: "It's fine. You paid for them."

The Prince Heir had drunk too much, and the words came flowing freely: "And those professors at the academy — always preaching self-reliance while dragging their concubines right into the school grounds... heh, Donglin faction."

Baili frowned and gave the Prince Heir a vicious pinch on the flesh of his waist: "Brother, watch what you say."

"Haha, I'll stop, I'll stop — drink up, drink up!"

That night, nobody knew how much wine the Prince Heir consumed. Chen Ji hadn't wanted to drink at all, yet somehow found himself dizzy and disoriented before he realized it.

Secret Spy Division, Military Intelligence Division, combat techniques, the Sword Seed Path — all of it was flung to the back of his mind, leaving nothing but the sweet wine of Red Clothe Lane.

Chen Ji couldn't remember why he'd drunk so much. All he remembered was that in his daze, someone had bellowed, "Let's go — to the Drum Tower to watch the sunrise!" — and a whole crowd had carried him out the door.

Before they left, Liang Gou'er took Yan'er's hand and asked: "Coming to see the sunrise?"

Yan'er smiled: "There are still customers at Golden Workshop."

Liang Gou'er asked again: "Coming?"

Yan'er answered: "Coming."

They sprinted through the night all the way to the Drum Tower of Luo City. Baili slipped a peanut-shaped silver nugget to the soldier guarding the tower, and only then were they allowed through.

When they reached the top of the Drum Tower, a cool autumn breeze rolled over them, and Chen Ji opened his eyes.

He saw the Prince Heir sitting forlornly on the railing, looking as though the slightest gust might blow him right off.

The Prince Heir called out loudly: "Liu Quxing, what do you want to be someday?"

"I want to inherit my master's legacy and become a court physician!"

"Done — from now on, you're the personal physician of Prince Jing's Estate!"

The Prince Heir called out again: "Liang Mao'er, what do you want to be someday?"

Liang Mao'er thought for a moment: "I'd like to have a few acres of land."

"I'll send them to you tomorrow!"

The Prince Heir continued: "Chen Ji, what do you want to be someday?"

Chen Ji mumbled groggily: "I don't know... honestly don't know. Just survive, I suppose."

Everyone burst out laughing: "Surviving is hardly a dream."

"Prince Heir, what do you want to be someday?" Liang Mao'er looked up and asked.

"I want to be a great hero!" The Prince Heir declared with a grin. "I've just realized that studying those classics is useless. From now on, whichever page the wind blows to, that's the page I'll read — and whichever page is too hard, I'll rip it out! Strike the drum!"

With that, he snatched up the drumstick and moved to strike the great drum atop the tower.

But Baili caught his arm: "Brother, think about this carefully — the moment you bring that stick down, the soldiers guarding the tower below will be exiled to a frontier garrison!"

The Prince Heir sheepishly lowered his hand: "Then I won't strike it."

Chen Ji turned to look the other way. Liang Gou'er was gazing at the sky with hazy, dreamy eyes, and Yan'er leaned gently against him, lost in thoughts of her own.

Liang Gou'er held her close: "Liu Xian, where have you been all these years?"

Yan'er clutched the front of Liang Gou'er's robe, as though trying to hold on to whatever warmth this wanderer still carried. She whispered: "I'm back now."

"That's good. That's all that matters."

As his voice faded, someone shouted: "The sun's coming up!"

Chen Ji looked up and saw a crimson sun slowly rising at the edge of the world, clouds drifting, the orange-red light gradually falling over everyone.

Around him, a bunch of fools were still carrying on with their drunken antics — yet even the autumn sunrise felt impossibly gentle.

Baili glanced at Chen Ji: "What are you thinking about?"

Chen Ji smiled and said: "I want that cloud up there to stop where it is."