Chapter 9: South of the City (9)

“Good for you, Gao Dafu!”
Unexpecting Gao Shi to be so casual, Wang Wei was initially stunned before shaking his head with a wry smile. “If Zhang Jiu wants to compete with me in painting, he can simply walk down to the foot of Zhongnan Mountain. After all, even if I’m poor, I can still afford to give him a painting. You, Gao Dafu, are clearly trying to take advantage of me. Well, fine—if you’re willing to sing a song while fencing for the prince, I’ll give you my poem ‘Written in Rainy Days at Wangchuan’!”
Amused by Wang Wei’s humorous words, Gao Shi, whose intentions had been exposed, wasn’t annoyed at all. He laughed and said, “What’s difficult about that? But my singing while fencing isn’t as gentle as playing the zither or se. It requires someone to play the flute in accompaniment. Let my nephew Li Kuo do that.”
Princess Yuzhen, amused by their conversation, turned her head and covered her face with a smile. “That’s wonderful! I’ve long heard that Secretary Gao is an excellent fencer. With this handsome young man playing the flute in accompaniment, it will surely be quite unique.”
With that, Gao Shi didn’t say much more. He nodded at Li Kuo, signaling him to join in the entertainment, then stood up and went to the open space in the center of the Chang’an Pavilion. Soon, guards brought the sword and flute needed for the performance. Gao Shi took the flute and handed it to Li Kuo, while drawing his own sword and tapping it twice to test its tone. Once everything was ready, Gao Shi bowed slightly to Princess Yuzhen, signaling that it was time to begin.
Li Kuo was initially surprised to be pulled in by Gao Shi to play the flute, but he quickly calmed down and casually played his most skilled piece, “Su Wu Herds Sheep.” The melodious sound filled the air, blending harmoniously, turning the entire Chang’an Pavilion into a serene mountain valley. Everyone listened in rapt attention, clapping from time to time. The scent of dragon’s blood incense drifted along the beams to the roof, spreading freely with the breeze coming through the windows, enveloping the pavilion in an otherworldly atmosphere.
Unaware of the others’ expressions, Li Kuo pursed his lips gently, drawing breath from his core, as if he were truly in a valley, accompanied by the breeze and the moon. The long, melodious sounds were like the moon over the mountains and stars in the clear sky. The sorrow and loneliness in the music seemed to emanate from the flute itself, reflecting the complexities of life, which stirred deep emotions in those who listened.
Accompanied by a high-pitched tremolo, Gao Dafu drew his sword—swift as the breeze, fast as lightning. The sword’s edge moved from sky to earth, emitting a chill. As he fought with the sword and sang, the clashing of steel seemed to resonate with the sound of the flute. The music was as sorrowful as a Qiang flute and as melancholic as the sound of a horn. It was as if an old man in his seventies, holding a Han dynasty flag under the light of a solitary moon in the desert, gazed southward toward the capital, hearing only the long cry of a lone wild goose.

At this moment, Li Kuo’s flute music also turned mournful and desolate. At times, its high notes echoed through the air, spreading across the world, creating a truly magnificent sound. As if by agreement, the flute and sword accompanied each other—sometimes solemn and sorrowful, sometimes bold and inspiring. Listeners felt as if they were in a vast desert, with the cold wind howling past their faces, blowing across the Qilian Mountains, to Yangguan, and toward the once-prosperous Chang’an. Its melodious tones moved everyone who heard it. The faint ringing of camel bells from caravans traveling along the Silk Road, like the sacred sounds of the gods, reached the hearts of the soldiers guarding the borders, composing a hymn to life. The plaque of the ancient city of Yangguan glowed with the dim yellow light of oil lamps, along with falling leaves and dust carried by the Qiaobo Mountains, forming a picture of the ancient desert fortresses and rivers.

The flute music grew even more solemn, following the rhythm of the beats. It seemed as if one could see the horses rising up in dust beside the post stations, the soldiers drawing their weapons at the training grounds outside the border towns, and the merchants traveling along the Silk Road, moving with the sun and moon.

Just as everyone was immersed in this ancient scene, suddenly a sharp sound of a sword was heard, like a silver bottle breaking or jade shattering. The scenes in the painting came to an abrupt halt—the fortresses, the rivers, Chang’an—all turned into mere paintings. As time passed and circumstances changed, everything eventually returned to silence.

“Excellent!”

After a moment of silence, Wang Wei was the first to clap, breaking the quiet. “Everyone says you, Gao Daifu, are an excellent swordsman. At first, I thought it was an overstatement, but after seeing you today, I feel as if I’ve wasted my life not meeting you. With your sword in hand, playing music while fighting, it’s like plucking a flower with ease. Even I, a hermit living in the mountains, must admit that you possess the spirit of the scholars of the Wei and Jin dynasties.”

Hearing this, Gao Shi stroked his beard and said, “I merely seek entertainment for myself. I don’t deserve such praise as Wang Wei’s. But to receive such high praise from a master like Wang Wei, my journey today was not in vain.”

Seeing the interesting conversation between the two, Princess Yuzhen covered her face with her sleeves and laughed softly. “Secretary Gao truly lives up to his reputation. The Right Minister lost fairly. But I think this young man who plays the flute is extremely skilled. He moved me to such an emotional state. I wonder whose son he is—so talented at such a young age.”

Hearing this, Gao Shi bowed slightly and said, “Your Highness, this young man is my only nephew, Kuo. If counted carefully, he is actually a younger relative of yours.”

“Oh?”

Princess Yuzhen turned her head and glanced at Li Kuo with interest, then said gently, “Is he Li Kuo, the only son of Prime Minister Li Shizhi? Prime Minister Li is around the same age as me. It wouldn’t be wrong for this child to call me aunt.”

Upon hearing these words, Li Kuo was initially stunned, then overjoyed. He lifted the hem of his robe slightly and bowed deeply to Princess Yu Zhen, saying loudly, “Auntie, please accept my humble bow.”

Princess Yu Zhen was pleased to see such courtesy from the young man and waved her hand gently, saying, “There’s no need for such formalities, Kuo. This is a private banquet; there’s no need for hierarchical respect. Just enjoy yourself.”

Though Li Kuo tried hard to suppress his joy, his youthful enthusiasm showed clearly on his face. With Princess Yu Zhen’s support, Dezi would most likely be saved. Although he was dissatisfied with Dezi’s recklessness, they had grown up together as close friends, and the thought of helping him escape prison brought him some comfort.

Seeing the joyful atmosphere at the banquet, Wang Wei clapped his hands and said, “How about we drink and compose poems? Those who can’t keep up must drink three cups as punishment.”

Seeing everyone in high spirits, Princess Yu Zhen also wanted to show her poetic talent. With a wave of her sleeve and a light cough, she said, “That’s great. Let’s start with the Right Minister.”

Wang Wei stroked his beard and smiled, saying, “Today, with spring flowers and soft willows, and beautiful ladies like jade, I’ll compose a poem spontaneously.”

With that, he stood up and walked toward the window. lifting the window latch, he saw petals falling outside, which inspired his poetic mood. Bowing his head and closing his eyes, Wang Wei pondered for a moment before saying, “Red beans grow in the southern lands; in spring, how many branches sprout? I wish you would pick more—these beans symbolize deep longing.” (Note 1)

Gao Shi applauded upon hearing the poem and praised, “What a wonderful poem about red beans! Red beans convey longing; they grow on the same branches. But whom are these red beans longing for? Mo Jie’s deep affection is truly admirable!”

Yet a hint of doubt flashed in Princess Yu Zhen’s eyes, quickly hidden by her smile. “I didn’t realize the Right Minister was such a devoted lover. But though red beans are beautiful, they eventually wither. Even the most vibrant flowers will fade. When longing turns to sorrow, all one can do is watch their beloved weep. Why not hold their hand and express your deep feelings, spending your life together?”

With that, she waved her sleeve lightly and stood up, lost in thought. After about a while, she smiled at Wang Wei and said, “Under the moonlight, by the cold river, red sleeves at the banquet; in green robes, walking through the lotus garden. Delicate brows turn toward red peonies in envy; a strand of black hair ties our fate together. Rising through official ranks, promises are made lightly; yet in hindsight, vows are abandoned. With makeup, one adorns only for whom? Sighing, one mocks the world.” (Note 2)

A faint, almost imperceptible bitter smile crossed Wang Wei’s lips as he shook his head and said, “Though red beans age easily, they once flourished. Amidst the plum blossoms and misty rain, with weeping willows and flying petals, red beans are truly born in the south of the Yangtze. If forced to be brought to Qin, they would likely wither away. Longing surpasses love; beautiful scenes, gentle voices—many things in this world are unpredictable. Contentment comes from what one has already possessed. I dare not hope for promises across three lifetimes.”

Hearing these words, Princess Yu Zhen’s eyes welled up with tears as she murmured, “Longing surpasses love, longing surpasses love. Some can only endure longing, yet who knows if that red bean plant would be willing to stay by your side for a lifetime?”

Seizing the change in the atmosphere at the banquet, Gao Shi quickly raised his cup and said, “In my opinion, Your Highness’s poem is truly elegant. It has inspired me to compose a short poem as a pleasure for everyone.”

After saying that, he stood up gently, strode around, and nodded thoughtfully. After about the time it took to drink a cup of tea, Gao Shi raised his head and said, “Horse hooves circle the frontier, breaking through the long river; the cold moon and frost illuminate the war songs. The sound of horns startles those in light sleep—the general is already ready at the front lines.” He waved his hand and added, “I have served the general at the border for a long time. I lack the elegance of the right minister and the tenderness of Your Highness. My poems are full of tales of horns and swords, of the long river and setting suns. Please forgive me, Your Highnesses.” Wang Wei smiled bitterly and said, “Da Fu serves the country loyally, guarding the borders—this truly fills me with admiration. I often regret not having the ability to wield a sword to expand the lands of the Tang Dynasty, having only a good-looking face. Da Fu, please don’t embarrass me any further; otherwise, I’ll really have to hide in the Zhongnan Mountains and avoid meeting people.”

Princess Yu Zhen also felt admiration and said with a smile, “Secretary Gao is truly talented, with such excellence in both literature and military strategy. It is a great fortune for the Tang Dynasty and a blessing for the realm to have a subject like you, my brother.”

Gao Shi bowed slightly to Princess Yu Zhen in gratitude, then bowed in the direction of the north of the city and said, “As a son of the Tang Dynasty, I ought to share the emperor’s burdens. In this life, my only wish is to expand the lands of the Tang Dynasty and spread the fame of the Heavenly Khan throughout the world.”

Note 1: This poem was written to fit the occasion—please forgive me.
Note 2: This poem was composed by Liu Yun. Please forgive its simplicity if you are an expert.