Chapter Forty-Four: The Battlefield of Love

Xu You smiled faintly, entirely unmoved by the threat in Yuan Qingqi’s words. He turned and returned to the folding stool, sat down, and took a sip of tea, looking completely at ease.

“Oh?” Yuan Qingqi asked with evident interest, “Do you not believe I would kill you, or do you doubt my ability to take your life here in the Wind-Tossed Pavilion?”

To kill or not to kill—that was a matter of intent. Being able or unable—that was a question of capability. Yet Xu You seemed to care about neither. His answer, unexpected by all, was: “Though I have only met you once, I know there are those who speak fiercely but are kind at heart, incapable of true evil. Besides, killing a man is not like slaughtering a chicken—it’s hardly so simple…”

Whether this was merely his habitual flattery or not, Yuan Qingqi seemed unmoved, and asked in surprise, “You’ve seen me before?”

“We crossed paths by the roadside, a fleeting encounter—a rare privilege to have witnessed your grace!” Xu You replied with reserved dignity. “Otherwise, I am not that blind lecher who would marry just anyone as his wife…”

Yuan Qingqi appeared to stifle a laugh. “Whenever people mention that infamous lecher, they say he was obsessed with beauty. This is the first time I’ve heard it said that he was blind.”

“That’s what comes of reading without seeking real understanding. In his ‘Rhapsody on the Lecher,’ Song Yu describes the wife as disheveled, with twisted ears, thick lips, crooked teeth, hunched back, plagued by scabs and sores. Yet the lecher adored her and fathered five sons with her. This isn’t about lust—it’s a satire on his blindness.”

Yuan Qingqi’s laughter was like rain falling on empty mountains, no longer cold or severe. After a while, she composed herself and said, “Your wit is unmatched among all those I know.”

Xu You, however, let his smile fade, his expression growing perfectly calm. “Then let me answer your earlier question seriously… If you truly wished to kill me, you wouldn’t do it here. This place is exposed, right by the river, with the busy docks nearby. Unless you could strike me dead in one move, I could escape by leaping into the water, or raise an alarm on the docks. Should anything go awry, you’d be accused of murdering your betrothed—pardon me, not your husband, but at least a man you were once engaged to. Either way, the rumor would bring grave disgrace upon you and your family.”

He looked up at the blue silk curtain. “I don’t believe someone as clever as you would do something so foolish. However many secrets the Water Rites may hold, they aren’t worth the price of your ruin.”

“In seeing through all this in a moment, you have my sincere admiration.” Yuan Qingqi smiled with unreadable intent. “But what means could I possibly have to force the seventh son of the Xu clan, most likely of his generation to break through to the Fifth Rank before the age of twenty, into such desperation—let alone kill you outright? Am I to poison your tea?”

Xu You’s eyes narrowed as he glanced at the cup on the low table. The faint sweetness still lingered on his lips, and he fell silent.

He had been certain Yuan Qingqi bore him no malice; there was no longer any conflict of interest between them, no reason for her to act against him. Only now did it occur to him—sometimes, one must never reason with a woman!

“You must be laughing at my ignorance, aren’t you? The White Tiger Force of the Xu clan is so domineering that no poison could enter your body undetected. So of course there was no poison in your tea. My earlier words about life and death were merely to tease you, seeing you act as if you always know everything.”

Her smiling admission left Xu You uncertain of her true feelings. Was it all a jest, or had she truly considered killing him, only to abandon the idea upon reflection that this was not the right time or place?

In any case, ever since discovering that Shui Xi could practice the Crane Mountain’s Water Rites, Xu You resolved never again to underestimate Yuan Qingqi.

How had a scion of Jiangdong’s Confucian aristocracy grown so close to the Celestial Master’s sect, with whom her family had little in common? Especially as a woman, and even her maidservant had mastered their esoteric arts. It was almost certain that her relationship with Sun Guan was extraordinary.

In the tumult of the last century, as the five barbarian tribes ravaged China, the great clans fled south, suffering the agony of exile and ruin. The old Confucian and metaphysical teachings could no longer sustain the souls of the gentry, and so religion flourished as never before. The Celestial Masters, riding this unprecedented tide, grew fearsomely powerful in Jiangdong, not only among the common people but also forging close ties with many noble houses and court officials. The Kong clan of Kuaiji, the Shen of Wuxing, the Xu of Yixing, the Yu of Yingchuan, the Ge of Danyang—these prominent families were all adherents. It was clear, then, how formidable Sun Guan, the present Celestial Master, truly was.

Even the Xu family’s connection to the Celestial Masters was so tenuous that Xu You had found it nearly impossible to obtain an audience with Sun Guan, let alone receive instruction in the Water Rites. His one visit to Crane Mountain had merely resulted in Li Changfeng, fifth among Sun Guan’s seven high priests, using the Water Rites to relieve his meridian blockage caused by the excess force of the White Tiger technique.

By comparison, Xu You could only marvel: this young woman’s connections were exceedingly complex—better to avoid provoking her!

“So it was all a jest—my heart nearly leaped out of my chest!” Xu You rose, cupping his hands. “It’s getting late. If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave.”

“No need to rush, seventh son; the main matter is yet untouched.”

Xu You nearly wanted to bang his head against the blue silk screen. They’d been talking nearly an hour and still hadn’t gotten to the point. Perhaps, whether in this life or the last, women are always the same—never able to grasp the core of things?

“Please, speak.”

“I invited you today, shamelessly, to seek your counsel: how might we persuade His Highness the Prince of Hengyang to abandon his pursuit?”

Xu You hadn’t expected her to return to the original topic. “His Highness was born to the imperial house, commands the military of Xuzhou, and holds great authority. I am but a commoner—hardly able to help you with such a request.”

“You are too modest. If my earlier jest has left you displeased, allow me to apologize sincerely. You are a gentleman; forgive this foolish woman this once.”

Xu You no longer dared to treat her as any mere girl. He forced a wry smile. “I’m not so petty… The truth is, the matter is too thorny, and I have no good solution. I cannot simply elope with you, can I?”

“And why not?” Yuan Qingqi seemed genuinely intrigued. “Zhuo Wenjun could elope with Sima Xiangru and become a legend—why can’t we?”

This time Xu You could tell she was teasing again. “Zhuo Wenjun was just a merchant’s daughter, but you are of the Yuan clan, raised and educated differently, with far greater responsibilities. She could elope—you cannot.”

“Oh? So you look down on a merchant’s daughter?”

The Celestial Masters preached the equality of all beings, that the flows of heaven and earth make no distinctions of rank—quite different from the Confucian view of strict social hierarchy. This alone showed how deeply Yuan Qingqi’s thinking had been influenced by the Celestial Masters, and how far it had drifted from Confucian orthodoxy.

Xu You shook his head. “It’s not that I look down on merchants’ daughters. On the contrary, merchants have contributed far more to society than many so-called noble families. What I truly despise is love at first sight—giving up everything to elope with someone after hearing a single tune is too reckless and too absolute.”

Yuan Qingqi laughed. “Though I know you’re only dodging the question, refusing to give me advice, I can’t help but be curious. Compared to so many women who never even saw their husband’s face before marriage, Zhuo Wenjun at least saw Sima Xiangru with her own eyes and heard his ‘Phoenix Seeking Its Mate’—she was very fortunate. If you think even that isn’t enough, what would you have done?”