Chapter 27: Standing in This Pavilion, Viewing This Garden

Yuan Jie’s gaze flickered, the conflict in his heart evident. Yet after only a brief moment, his eyes dulled, and he burst into laughter. “Today, I have witnessed your artistry, Seven, as marvelous as wild geese playing upon the sea, and heard the profound discourse on the twelve meanings of Zhong Yao’s calligraphy. What a delight, truly a delight!”

Xu You breathed a silent sigh of relief. Fortunately, Yuan Jie retained some measure of reason, not clinging to false hope after the rice had already been half-cooked. In truth, marriage was never merely the affair of two individuals, but a matter entwining two families, intricate and far-reaching. Had Xu You been but an ordinary man, Yuan Jie might have relied on this stroke—one perhaps capable of ushering in a new age of calligraphy—to elevate him among the gentry, nurture him with care, and who could say he would not one day grow into a towering tree? But fate decreed otherwise. Xu You was no ordinary man, bearing the blood feud of the Xu clan against the Shen family, whose star now rose with the Crown Prince’s support. No matter how much Yuan Jie valued talent or felt the thrill of the hunt, he must obey the laws of reality.

And what are those laws? In truth, only four words: seek benefit, avoid harm.

Hearing the “wild geese playing upon the sea” remark, Xu You could not help but see Yuan Jie in a new light. Despite lacking the backbone of a true gentleman and being overly cautious, the foundation of a great clan lent him rare discernment, honed by countless masterpieces. For even in the Tang dynasty, Zhang Yanyuan’s ten-volume “Compendium of Calligraphic Works” described Wang Xizhi’s style with just four words: “wild geese playing upon the sea.” Zhang Yanyuan himself was extraordinary—his ancestors had all served as prime ministers, a lineage of three, renowned and illustrious. Thus, though times and people differ, the pursuit converges; the understanding of beauty and skill remains ever the same.

Xu You bowed humbly. “Your praise is too generous, sir. I am but a novice in the way of calligraphy, unworthy of the ‘wild geese playing upon the sea’ accolade. I can only hope that, through constant practice and daily study, I may one day live up to your great expectations.”

The more Yuan Jie observed Xu You, the more he found his conversation, temperament, and demeanor pleasing—utterly unlike the impression gained from previous investigations. It proved the sage’s words: “When judging a man, listen to his words and observe his actions,” a truth of deep wisdom.

Yet... ah, what a pity!

He was a man capable of both holding on and letting go. Since there was no hope, he would not brood over it. Turning, he instructed Feng Tong to carefully store away the letter of annulment and had Qi Mo roll up the “Victory Announcement” and withdraw. Then, taking Xu You by the hand, he said, “It is getting late. Would you join me for a meal, Seven?”

Xu You patted his stomach with a smile. “I would wish nothing more! To be honest, my stomach has been rumbling for some time.”

Had Xu You spoken thus before displaying his talents, it would have seemed coarse and rude. But at this moment, Yuan Jie saw in it the elegant ease of a true man of letters, and his heart grew fonder. “Feng Tong, go personally to the kitchen and see to it. Have them bring forth all their skill and prepare a fine meal. At noon, I shall entertain an honored guest!”

Feng Tong had never expected things to unfold so dramatically today. He had intended to wait until Xu You obediently wrote the letter of annulment, severing ties with the Yuan family, and then humiliate him thoroughly. A mere commoner, surely he could be mocked and toyed with at will. Though, given Xu You’s earlier defense before the master, perhaps it would not be too harsh, but in any case, all past grievances should be repaid today.

But who could have foreseen that, as things stood, Xu You, after writing the letter of annulment, was more favored by the master than he would have been as the son-in-law of the Yuan family.

Such is the strangeness of the world!

Once Feng Tong departed in frustration, Xu You followed Yuan Jie, passing through gates and courtyards, climbing rugged steps to the summit of an artificial mountain entirely constructed from rare Lanjiang stones. At the peak stood an octagonal pavilion of unique design, offering a sweeping view of the entire Yuan estate. Xu You was unsure why Yuan Jie had brought him here. The autumn wind brushed past, and breathing the fresh air—unlike anything he had known in his previous life—he felt his spirit soar, all worldly troubles forgotten.

“This pavilion was completed just over a month ago. It remains unnamed, and no inscription adorns it. I happened to think of it just now, so I invited you up for a look. What do you think?”

“When building a pavilion,” Xu You replied, “one seeks bubbling springs amid bamboo groves, or a site atop scenic hills, where lush bamboo abounds and ancient pines coil at the foot. Such places are most fitting. I see that your pavilion, sir, enjoys a unique position, surrounded by dense woods and tall bamboo, able to harbor the cool breeze. The clear stream below reflects its beauty, making it quiet and refined, a place to lose oneself at first sight.”

Yuan Jie was surprised. He had asked casually but found that Xu You seemed genuinely versed in the art of gardens. Wanting to test him further, he asked, “Standing here, surveying the garden, what impression does it give you?”

Without hesitation, Xu You answered, “Regardless of direction, there is natural elevation and lowland; the gates are intriguing, the scenery adapts to the shape; square or round, slanted or curved, the site is well-chosen, the garden structure appropriate.”

Yuan Jie stood stunned, gazing at Xu You’s youthful face, momentarily at a loss for words. Xu You silently felt a pang of guilt, for this passage was not his own, but borrowed from “The Craft of Gardens” by Ji Cheng, the famed architect of the late Ming.

Though highly esteemed in the history of landscape architecture, the book was specialized and little known. Most had never even heard of it. Xu You himself had only encountered it during a university summer visit to the gardens of Suzhou, inspired by their pervasive cultural aura to seek out a few related books afterward, but he had never studied them in depth. Years later, he had forgotten the names of the others, but remembered Ji Cheng’s work because its literary style—parallel prose—made it a delight to read.

Yet, after so long, he only recalled these few rhythmic, easily memorized lines!

Seeing Yuan Jie eager to continue the discussion, Xu You knew his own limits. Any further comment would expose him, so he quickly changed the subject. “Sir, you mentioned that this pavilion remains unnamed. Might I ask why?”

Yuan Jie was easily diverted. “No particular reason, really—just that none of the proposed names satisfied me, and with the construction period unsettled, I was in no rush. Then one delay led to another, and now, even after completion, I still haven’t found a suitable name.”

Normally, for a pavilion of this stature, its completion would prompt the host to invite local scholars for a literary gathering, with poems and essays exchanged, becoming the talk of the town. If someone composed an outstanding piece, their fame would rise instantly, and the host would share in the glory—a win-win, eagerly anticipated by all.

Xu You could guess that many had been awaiting the day of the gathering since the pavilion’s construction began. Yet, more than a month after completion, it still lacked a name. No doubt there were private complaints about Yuan Jie. A sharp-tongued gossip might even mock the Yuan family for stinginess, delaying the gathering to avoid the expense of hosting.

Xu You, however, was well acquainted with the famous pavilions of China’s history—Taoran Pavilion, Drunken Old Man’s Pavilion, Heart of the Lake Pavilion, Pavilion of Loving the Evening, and others such as Orchid Pavilion, Crane-Release Pavilion, Lixia Pavilion, Agarwood Pavilion, and so forth. All the same, their lasting fame stemmed not from architectural prowess or unique names, but from the people within them and the refined events that transpired. For instance, Drunken Old Man’s Pavilion owes its renown to Ouyang Xiu’s essay, the Pavilion of Loving the Evening to Du Mu’s verse, and Orchid Pavilion needs no elaboration—without Wang Xizhi’s “Preface to the Orchid Pavilion Gathering,” it would merely be a relic.

Knowing this, Xu You had no intention of showing off further. So many had suggested names, none pleasing Yuan Jie; clearly the man was exceedingly particular. In dealing with others, one must know when to shine and when to conceal one’s talents. Furthermore, Yuan Jie’s erudition, while perhaps not all-encompassing, far surpassed Xu You’s in classical learning. Naming a pavilion—so entwined with personal sentiment—was hardly Xu You’s place.

Noting that Xu You merely smiled without responding, Yuan Jie assumed he was waiting to be invited to contribute, and a subtle hint of coolness flickered in his eyes. “Seven, since you understand gardens and possess talent, would you lend your aid and relieve me of this dilemma?”

Xu You firmly declined, his tone sincere and manner respectful. Yuan Jie saw he was not posturing, and whatever irritation had begun to stir instantly vanished, replaced by greater appreciation for his conduct—a result Xu You had not anticipated.

Suddenly a gust of wind set their wide sleeves fluttering. Yuan Jie laughed, “Since you refuse to bestow a name, I must do so myself!” Hands clasped behind his back, he paced to the edge of the pavilion, pondered a moment, then declared, “I have it—let it be called ‘Pavilion of Playing upon the Sea!’”

Xu You was taken aback, only then realizing that Yuan Jie had already decided on the name before bringing him up. “Playing upon the Sea”—the phrase he had used moments ago to praise Xu You’s calligraphy—was now chosen for the pavilion’s name. Truly, Yuan Jie had shown him great honor.