Chapter Forty-One: The Graceful Beauty

Pray tell, how much idle sorrow can there be? A riverbank of misty grasses, a city filled with drifting willow catkins, and the yellow plum rains of early summer.

Wind Catkin Pavilion—such a beautiful name.

Yet to Xu You, what was more beautiful than the name was the person herself.

On either side of the bluestone steps leading up to the pavilion stood twenty-eight maidens in the bloom of youth, all radiant with beauty. Their lower garments were of pure white, their upper robes of glowing red, and each one had brows like verdant feathers and skin as fair as the first snow. Their long, silken hair was styled into the most elegant and ethereal flying fairy knots. Standing at the foot of the embankment and gazing upward, one would think celestial maidens had descended to earth, so dazzling were they that the heart could not help but flutter with enchantment.

"Sir, please ascend the platform!"

Shui Xi stepped aside gracefully, her smile bright as spring, extending a lotus-like hand to invite Xu You to lead the way. Xu You smiled faintly, clasped his hands behind his back, and as a breeze swept by, his wide sleeves billowed, perfectly setting off his tall, slender figure. With composed elegance, he began to ascend, placing his foot upon the first step.

"The Fusang sun rises with morning radiance, illuminating this high terrace. The terrace abounds with wondrous beauty, from the deep chambers emerge fair faces."

A clear, melodious voice rang out. Shui Xi, following behind Xu You, looked up in surprise at his graceful back. As the personal maid of Yuan Qingqi, she was well-versed in poetry and literature. Hearing the opening lines, she immediately recognized a poetic imitation of the yuefu song "Plucking Mulberry by the Road." The lines, "The Fusang sun rises with morning radiance, illuminating this high terrace," echoed "The sun rises in the southeast, shining upon the Qin tower," while "The terrace abounds with wondrous beauty, from the deep chambers emerge fair faces," was praise for the many beauties present. Apt and artful, the verses were perfectly matched to the occasion. To compose such lines spontaneously, even among the most talented young scholars of Jiangzuo, few could match this level of craft.

"Her gentle visage dazzles like the bright sun, her pure heart tranquil and serene. Her lovely eyes gleam with the luster of jade, her graceful brows resemble emerald feathers."

With every step he took, Xu You recited two more lines. As each maiden bowed in greeting at his side, he nodded and smiled in return, never showing arrogance or condescension.

This innate calm and poise, combined with his elegant bearing, was truly captivating.

Shui Xi gazed at him for a moment, then lifted her skirt and quietly followed, the smile at her brow deepening. For these four lines were not general praise of the assembled women, but singled out one alone: a face as radiant as the rising sun, a mind both clever and gentle, and, most rare, a pair of beautiful eyes, sparkling with the brilliance of jade.

Who but her own mistress could inspire such words from Xu Qilang?

For reasons she could not explain, Shui Xi recalled his teasing words from earlier. A warmth crept behind her ears, and she shot him a glance that was half chiding, half shy. Yet, knowing he could not see her with his back turned, she covered her mouth and let out a soft, delighted chuckle.

"Her fresh complexion is smooth as cream, her colors seem fit to feast the eyes. Slender and graceful, she moves with elegance, her smile and wit both charming and clever."

"Golden sparrow hairpins dangle in her coiffure, jade pendants and pearls adorn her waist. Riding in state, she stirs the clear dust, washing her feet in the ripples of the river."

Xu You was halfway up the steps when he could already see the blue gauze screens of the Wind Catkin Pavilion. Yet, the closer he drew to Yuan Qingqi, the more indistinct the memory of her became in his mind, as if the stunning vision from that day was but a fleeting dream.

"Majestic clouds gather in the wind, so many beauties here assembled. The southern cliffs draped in silk curtains, the northern islets filled with carriages. The clear river reflects the lush scene, the high banks are adorned in crimson. Fragrant sleeves wave gently, slender fingers pluck soft melodies. Sad songs issue forth pure notes, graceful dances spread the scent of orchids. Red lips hold the autumns of nine years, their grace surpasses the Seven Bends. Like startled swans they move to the music, like gathering phoenixes they keep time. Their splendid bearing changes with their faces, their serene presence has no fixed source. Their gestures ebb and flow, each step a delight to behold. Their lingering fragrance rides the wind, their reflected beauty glimmers in the clear stream."

The Wind Catkin Pavilion was within reach.

Xu You paused, first calmly admiring the "Wind Catkin" inscription penned by Yuan Jie himself, then gazed at the blue gauze screen hanging in the center of the pavilion, falling silent.

This gauze screen was a kind of folding screen, but unlike the household screens, it was designed for outdoor use, supported by lacquered poles, their tops festooned with silks of varying textures—some coarse, some fine. It could enclose a private space for the amusement of the nobility, or, as now, serve to uphold the strict propriety separating men and women.

Shui Xi approached, standing beside Xu You. She gestured toward the folding stool before the screen and said, "Sir, please be seated while I announce you to the lady."

Xu You was about to reply when a voice sounded at his ear: "Sir Xu, does the poem you just recited have a title?"

Xu You started, momentarily taken aback. Though he had seen many beauties in his previous life, he had never imagined a voice could be so enchanting as the one coming from behind the blue gauze. Every intonation, every rise and fall, fell upon the ear like celestial music descending from the heavens, otherworldly in its purity.

"This poem was composed on the spur of the moment, and I have not yet named it," Xu You replied, quickly regaining his composure. Smiling, he continued, "But since you ask, why not call it 'Longing for the Fair One'?"

"'Longing for the Fair One'..." came a melodious laugh from behind the screen. "A fine name indeed! Setting aside your somewhat imitative Luosheng intonation, in terms of poetry alone, after 'The Ode to the Goddess of the Luo River,' no poem in praise of beauty could surpass this."

The poem Xu You had recited was authored by Lu Ji, famed as "the hero of Taikang," and its sole purpose was to extol the charms of a beautiful woman. Its diction was lush and its imagery vivid, opening the way for later palace-style poetry. Yuan Qingqi's comparison to the famous "Ode to the Goddess of the Luo River" was certainly extravagant, but it also revealed her keen appreciation and profound literary knowledge—her reputation as a talented woman of Jiangzuo was well deserved.

Yet Yuan Qingqi's playful spirit showed in how she praised Xu You, while also teasing him for his accent, saying his recitation was not quite the authentic Luosheng chant. With this, any awkwardness melted away, and whether by intent or not, her easy poise was something few women could match.

The so-called "Luosheng chant" referred to the mode of recitation used by scholars of Luoyang in the Wei dynasty, characterized by a low, throaty tone—the official "common speech" of the time. After the gentry migrated south, the northern elites looked down on the Wu dialect of the southerners, deriding its birdlike sound as "white-necked bird cawing." The southerners, feeling inferior, strove to imitate the northern speech. Thus, to recite poetry in the Luosheng style became fashionable; the more authentic one's accent, the more admired one became.

"Why do you not use the Luosheng chant? Why always employ the old maid's voice?"

Xu You replied with a laugh. He was skilled indeed at steering conversation, a necessary gift for those who would lead. As his counterpart had shown goodwill, so did he respond in kind.

These lines themselves had their source: because the Luosheng chant's nasal resonance was so pronounced, southerners would often pinch their noses to imitate it, leading the famous Gu Kaizhi—known as "the three perfections"—to dismiss it as the "old maid's voice," making a jest of it. In this world, where Gu Hutou did not exist, this was the first time anyone had heard such a phrase.

Again came a soft laugh from behind the thick gauze. Xu You could not see even a shadow, but he somehow sensed that Yuan Qingqi was genuinely amused, perhaps even bending forward with laughter.

"Shui Xi, please seat Sir Xu."

"Yes, ma'am!" Shui Xi replied respectfully. She approached, took Xu You by the arm, and guided him to the folding stool.

The faint fragrance from her presence drifted to him. Keeping his gaze straight ahead, Xu You comported himself as a true gentleman, smiling his thanks. He lifted his eyes to the blue gauze, his mind sketching the features of the woman behind it. Though their exchange had been brief, his impression of Yuan Qingqi had improved greatly; he could scarcely believe the woman of such wit and talent could be the same who orchestrated his downfall that fateful night.

Truly, as the sage wrote in the Dao De Jing: "The five colors blind the eyes, the five tones deafen the ears, the five flavors dull the tongue"—words of profound truth.

Lost in thought, Xu You was suddenly roused by Yuan Qingqi's voice: "May I ask, Sir Xu, what is your ambition?"

He hesitated, unsure of her intention, but answered, "If fortune allows, I would aid the world; if not, I would cultivate myself alone."

"To be poor is easy to understand! But may I ask, what do you mean by fortune?"

"Fortune is to be accomplished; accomplishment is to be enlightened."

"And what do you mean by enlightenment?"

Xu You replied quietly, "The 'Records of the Grand Historian' says, 'If no one asks of the accomplished, it is as if there are none.' The 'Zuo Commentary' says, 'Of the followers of Jin and Chu, if none are enlightened, it is as if there are none.' From this we know that fortune means accomplishment, and accomplishment means enlightenment. The 'Shuowen' defines 'sage' as 'one who is enlightened.' Therefore, to be accomplished is to be enlightened, and to be enlightened is to be a sage."

A brief silence fell behind the screen before Yuan Qingqi's voice, as clear as a mountain spring, sounded again—this time with a hint of gentle teasing: "Ah, so Sir Xu aspires to be a sage?"

"You are mistaken, madam," Xu You answered with grave sincerity. "Confucius spoke of 'becoming humane,' Mencius of 'upholding righteousness.' The so-called sage is nothing more than the embodiment of these two virtues. The benevolent wish to establish themselves and so establish others; they wish to accomplish themselves and so accomplish others. It begins with self-cultivation and leads to the governance of others. My ambition is not to become an idol worshipped by the masses, coated with blinding gold leaf, seeking the incense of a thousand generations. Rather, I wish to compose the Five Classics, clarify the Six Arts, to cultivate and accomplish myself, and then to order human relations and rectify what is in decline, so as to establish and accomplish others."

"Sir Xu has a fine gift of words and a noble ambition. I spoke out of turn... Shui Xi, pour tea!"

Shui Xi knelt gracefully to one side and poured Xu You a cup of tea. "Please, sir, enjoy."

Xu You took the cup and sipped. The first taste was bitter, but after three sips, a lingering fragrance filled his mouth. He couldn't help but praise, "Excellent tea!"

At that moment, Yuan Qingqi's gentle voice came: "Would Sir Xu care to hear my own ambition?"

Xu You's heart gave an involuntary flutter—for reasons he could not name, the tender "Ah Yuan" in her voice set it racing. He replied, "I would be honored to hear it."