Chapter 21#
Zhaohua’s Charm, The Muse.#
Bewitched by beauty, it wasn’t until he returned to the courtyard that Pei Xiting remembered a problem: What about Yuan Fang?
Zhaohua Mountain was outside the city. If he went alone, he’d have to confront any danger by himself. But if he brought Yuan Fang along, it would be like delivering the man straight under the Crown Prince’s nose. Ordinary people couldn’t see through Yuan Fang’s disguise, but the Crown Prince wasn’t ordinary—he was clearly a thousand-year-old fox, both beautiful and shrewd.
“No worries.” Yuan Fang slapped a buzzing mosquito that had landed on the door. “I’ll drop you off at the mountain and find a place to wait. Anyway, you’ll be with the Crown Prince. The most dangerous person is His Highness himself. If he wants to do something to you, I wouldn’t be able to save you anyway.”
“Makes sense.” Pei Xiting lay down on a bamboo chair under the eaves, hanging the basket on one armrest, and casually picked up a plum. “By the way, I warmly invited His Highness the Crown Prince to visit our courtyard earlier. If he really comes, make sure you disappear in time.”
Yuan Fang turned to look at the swaying figure and asked in confusion, “What are you up to? You don’t seem like someone trying to curry favor with the powerful… If you really wanted to climb the social ladder, you wouldn’t dare invite the precious Crown Prince to this humble little courtyard. You’d be itching to plaster your finest villa with gold bricks, just to have His Highness deign to step foot in it.”
“The Crown Prince wouldn’t fancy that sort of thing. As for what I’m after—” The plum was sweet, and Pei Xiting’s mouth felt sugary. “I’m after his exceptionally good looks.”
“The Crown Prince is indeed supremely handsome, but the better he looks, the crueler his heart.” Yuan Fang walked over, patted Pei Xiting’s shoulder, and bent down to take a plum for himself. “Let me give you a piece of advice: ‘Beneath the word ‘beauty’ lies a blade; one slash and blood will cascade.’”
“I know another old saying: ‘Die beneath a beauty’s body, and you’ll be a romantic ghost even in death.’ Besides, I don’t plan to mess with him. I just want to appreciate him, paint him, and—” Pei Xiting suddenly realized something, his face changing dramatically. “Wait—you just used the hand that killed a mosquito to touch my clothes, and now you’re eating a plum? How dirty is that?”
A wanderer in the martial world didn’t have such fastidious habits. In the most desperate times, they’d gnaw on wild grass and drink raw blood. But seeing Pei Xiting’s disgusted expression, Yuan Fang raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, young master. Next time I touch you, I’ll bathe three times first.”
The young master graciously forgave him.
Zhaohua Mountain was in the western suburbs, shrouded together with the evening twilight in a fine, drizzling rain—a vast, grey expanse of towering peaks.
Pei Xiting lifted the carriage curtain and understood the meaning of “Zhaohua.” The hibiscus flowers amidst the emerald greenery had not yet closed. Mostly pale purple, mingled with pure white and deep red, the blossoms formed a riot of color stretching endlessly across the mountain, blooming at dawn and falling at dusk, an infinite cycle.
The carriage stopped at the end of the road. Yuan Fang, dressed as a servant with a rain hat obscuring his face, stepped onto the wet soil and leaned in to open the carriage door. He steadied Pei Xiting by the wrist and whispered, “There’s no one hiding along the way, but there are experts ahead—more than one. I can’t get too close.”
“It’s fine. Wait for me here.” Pei Xiting stepped down using the footrest.
As their hands parted, Yuan Fang slipped a cold, hard object into Pei Xiting’s palm and said, “Set off this signal if anything happens.”
Pei Xiting was touched. “I thought you weren’t going to save me?”
“At least let me know when you’re dead so I can figure out how to collect your corpse,” Yuan Fang said seriously.
Pei Xiting let out an “oh,” took the umbrella Yuan Fang had opened for him, and turned to leave.
Yu Shaoyun stood in the pavilion, playing a sheng melody that could only be described as an enemy to all musicians and schools, ancient and modern. His expression was earnest and absorbed, unaware that the flowers and grass on the entire mountain wished they could wither on the spot.
The eunuch Lai, kneeling beside a low table brewing tea, secretly glanced at the Crown Prince, who sat upright like a pine tree, eyes closed, calming his mind. Truly worthy of the Crown Prince, he thought. Let the demonic music assault his ears; he remains unmoved, turning all torment into spiritual refinement! And Commander Yu, truly the Crown Prince’s most favored minister, could torture His Highness’s soul like this without being beaten to death.
Ahead, the treetops swayed in the rain. The Crown Prince opened his eyes. A plain black umbrella pushed through the swaying branches, cutting through the rain. Black boots stepped unhurriedly through the mud. A crimson-colored hem seemed to linger with the wind and rain, and above it, a waist lightly bound with a red sash.
The soul-seizing, life-chasing sheng music suddenly stopped. Even Master Yu finally had a change of heart and couldn’t bear to ruin this beauty.
With a ding-ling, the pair of double-bell jade pendants on the umbrella’s edge gently clinked as it was raised, and the raindrops that shook off fell onto the pale hand holding the handle. The person under the umbrella reached the front of the pavilion, revealing a pair of dazzling, expressive eyes.
It was said that the heir of Prince Ning and Zhao Shizi of the Duke of Wen’s estate had eyes that carried peach blossoms—the former romantic, the latter dissolute—a pair of naturally smiling, amorous eyes that concealed passion, having stirred countless tender hearts. Pei Xiting didn’t have such peach blossom eyes. His gaze was bright and rippling yet indifferent, but the Crown Prince recognized the word “charm.” Like cold, frost-covered leaves, it didn’t just tug at the heartstrings—it pierced them.
The qin string suddenly trembled. The Crown Prince snapped back to reality, looking down at his hand that had silently brushed over the qin strings, momentarily speechless.
Pei Xiting had already closed his umbrella and leaned it against the pavilion pillar. He walked to the low table, clasped his hands in greeting, then looked at the qin. “What a beautiful ‘Lingji-style’ qin. Entirely dark, with the blue-green smoke painting on the waist section so elegant and natural. Your Highness, what is the name of this qin?”
It actually had no name, but the Crown Prince lightly stroked the head of the qin and said, “Xiting Asks the Water.”
Pei Xiting was startled, then smiled. “It is called Xiting Asks the Water, and I am Xiting Asks the Trickle. What a coincidence.”
The Crown Prince neither confirmed nor denied, saying, “You haven’t taken a style name yet. Where does the name ‘Asks the Trickle’ come from?”
Pei Xiting hadn’t expected the Crown Prince to ask this and was silent for a moment.
In truth, “Asks the Trickle” was a childhood name given to him by his grandfather. “Xiting Asks the Trickle” had its own elegance and pleasure, a self-contentment. His grandfather had hoped he would inquire of water to know himself, to be tranquil and far-reaching, wealthy and leisurely. But since the old man passed, no one had called him that anymore.
“It was given to me by an old man I once met. I especially like it and treasure it.”
A genuine look of melancholy and sadness appeared on that face. The Crown Prince was about to respond when he saw Pei Xiting kneel on the cushion, propping his chin like a child, looking at him expectantly. “Your Highness, when it’s time for me to take a style name, would you bestow these two characters upon me?”
The Crown Prince didn’t answer. Yu Shaoyun said, “His Highness is not your elder. How can he bestow a style name?”
“Monarch and father—the Son of Heaven is the father of all people. His Highness is the heir apparent, so he is the people’s ‘little father.’ Why can’t he bestow one?” Pei Xiting’s reasoning was flawed but bold. “If you could grant me a style name, our Pei family would at least feast for three days.”
The Crown Prince was silent for a moment at this “little father” title, then asked, “Why do you want me to bestow it?”
“First, you’re the only person besides my father I know who could grant me a style name.” Pei Xiting raised another finger. “Second, a style name is something you carry for life. I want to be selective about who bestows it. Third, I think you’re the only one who would agree to such a request.”
The Crown Prince said, “Because I’m easy to talk to?”
“No,” Pei Xiting flattered, “because you are open-minded and very good at caring for others.”
Good at caring for others? The Crown Prince was rarely surprised. “Where did you get that impression?”
Pei Xiting pointed at Yu Shaoyun. “You let him play that earth-shattering sheng music for so long without interruption. Isn’t that enough to show your gentleness, compassion, lenience, and benevolence? If it were me, I’d immediately sew up that cruel, sinful mouth with a needle.”
“!” Yu Shaoyun covered his mouth and said, muffled, “Third Young Master Pei, please don’t give His Highness any suggestions!”
“Well said.” The Crown Prince ignored Yu Shaoyun’s aggrieved, resentful gaze and looked at Pei Xiting, who was propping his cheek and tilting his head. “Do you know how to play the qin?”
“Do I have to play well for you to agree?” Pei Xiting smiled ingratiatingly. “I don’t.”
He hadn’t studied many musical instruments, only a bit of piano and guitar, and there was no piano to play in this place.
“Your Highness, how about this,” Pei Xiting calculated, “you play the qin, and I’ll paint. If my painting pleases you, you reward me by agreeing to bestow my style name when the time comes. Deal?”
The Crown Prince wasn’t fooled. “I’m losing out on this deal. I didn’t have to play the qin in the first place.”
Pei Xiting laughed, shifted his weight, and sat sideways, propping his elbow on the table. “I beg to differ. You asked me to paint the rain, but rain has a thousand forms. Which one should I paint? I’m on Zhaohua Mountain, with Your Highness before me. They say emotion is born from scenery, and person and setting unite. Your Highness is part of my painting—my muse.”
He spoke the last word in Greek, lingeringly, but the natives of Daye didn’t understand, looking up at him. “What does that mean?”
The mole on his left cheek was like a bird amid dew-soaked green mountains, the stamen of a pale purple hibiscus, the cinnabar blood at the end of Pei Xiting’s line of sight—stunning and deadly. His lashes trembled as he smiled and said, “You can understand it as: you make my hands itch to get ahold of you.”
Yu Shaoyun, still holding a grudge over Pei Xiting’s earlier “suggestion,” seized the chance to strike back. “So you want to beat up His Highness at any moment?!”
The eunuch Lai couldn’t bear to watch and silently covered his face.
“Your Highness,” Pei Xiting asked curiously, “does Commander Yu have a partner… a lover?”
“Commander Yu does not,” the Crown Prince replied. “He’s already a lost cause.”
Yu Shaoyun said plaintively, “Your Highness!”
The Crown Prince, unaffected by this chilling “coquettish tone,” looked at Pei Xiting, who was staring at him with a blatant, almost suicidal adoration. He plucked the qin strings, lowered his eyes, and said, “Alright. I agree.”