Chapter 34#
Night Travel: Little Pei Goes South of the River (Part Two)#
That one word “Dad” left everyone dumbfounded. The shop fell silent for a moment, and if a needle had dropped somewhere, it would have been clearly audible.
Pei Xiting looked at Yuan Fang with slight surprise. “Well, well, you with the thick eyebrows and big eyes—young as you are, your son is already this grown.”
Yuan Fang’s mouth twitched. “Don’t make me slap you.”
Pei Xiting shut up.
The shopkeeper’s face alternated between pale and green. Trembling, he walked over to the youth and said, “Young Master Yun Duan, you’ve mistaken him. This gentleman and Second Master don’t just look a little different—they’re nothing alike. Let’s not even mention that Second Master has a potbelly; look at this gentleman’s waist—does that match at all?”
It turned out the youth was none other than White Second Master’s son, Bai Yunduan.
Bai Yunduan was a well-known minor rake in Ningzhou, renowned for his daily pastimes of teasing cats and dogs, playing with birds and cards. Together with his older cousin from the main branch, Bai Yunluo—who was young yet mature and steady—they stood as two completely different emblems of the Bai family.
Everyone in the city knew that Second Master Bai and Young Master Yun Duan had a “filial father and son” relationship, with the father chasing the son every few days with a dog-beating stick. Yet few knew that when Second Master Bai had been on the brink of death, it was this “worthless little beast” who had run around everywhere, risking his neck to find someone from the martial world to save his father.
Yuan Fang didn’t know how Bai Yunduan had recognized him, nor would he bring up the events of that year. He only said, “You’ve mistaken me,” and gave a meaningful look.
Fortunately, Bai Yunduan was just a bit reckless. He hadn’t expected to meet his benefactor again in the vast sea of people, and in his excitement, he’d dropped to his knees. Now that he understood the situation, he scrambled back up, pretending to be calm, and said, “Oh, it was a mistake.”
The shopkeeper thought: Your eyes… well, better a mistake than the truth!
Bai Yunduan quickly composed his expression, then turned to Pei Xiting, cupping his hands. “Young Master, are you a friend of Fourth Young Master Zhao?”
Pei Xiting returned the gesture. “Yes.”
“Since you’re a friend of Fourth Young Master Zhao, coming to my Hundred Brocade Row means I should entertain you as a host.” Bai Yunduan stared straight at him. “Would the young master do me the honor?”
Pei Xiting could feel the anticipation and eagerness in the youth’s eyes without even using his own. After a moment’s thought, he said, “Sure.”
A short while later, they were in a private room on the second floor of the Swallow Tower on the neighboring street.
As Bai Yunduan passionately recited the “Ode of Gratitude” to Yuan Fang, Pei Xiting flipped through the menu and ordered: “Roast duck, drunken shrimp, sticky rice with lotus root, stuffed lotus root with fish, sliced lettuce, pickled vegetables, and a plate of soup buns.”
Yuan Fang said, “Make it two.”
“Very well, gentlemen, please wait a moment. The dishes will be served shortly.” The waiter took the menu and left, gently closing the door behind him.
“Stop.” Yuan Fang raised his hand to halt Bai Yunduan as he paused for breath, saying flatly, “I’ve deeply felt your sincerity. Stop now, or I can’t guarantee whether your father will have to bury a child before an elder.”
“My father’s hair isn’t white yet…”
Yuan Fang drew his dagger. Bai Yunduan changed his tune, “…It is now.”
“You can pay the bill and leave.” Yuan Fang sheathed the dagger.
“Dad…”
Yuan Fang drew the dagger again. Bai Yunduan quickly said, “Back then, you saved my father’s life. You gave him a second chance at life, like a second parent. Is it wrong to call you ‘Dad’?”
Pei Xiting sipped the lotus leaf dew from the Swallow Tower and said, “Following that logic, what should your father call him?”
“Right,” Bai Yunduan immediately revised the title, “Grandpa!”
Yuan Fang pressed Pei Xiting’s meddling head onto the rim of his cup. “Since it was a transaction, it was just business, not a favor. Call me that again, and I’ll cut out your tongue.”
The threat didn’t sound like a bluff. Bai Yunduan weighed his options, not wanting to annoy Yuan Fang further, so he changed his tune. “Since my benefactor has come to Ningzhou, I must serve you at your side and do my utmost as a host to show my gratitude.”
“Unnecessary,” Yuan Fang said coldly, releasing Pei Xiting, who had been scratching his hand. “Don’t bother us.”
“Us”—Bai Yunduan caught that word and turned to Pei Xiting across from him. “May I ask the young master’s name?”
Pei Xiting extricated himself from the claws, casually smoothing his hair, and said, “A humble name isn’t worthy of the young master’s ears.”
“Fine, I won’t ask.” Bai Yunduan was straightforward. He lightly slapped the table. “Since you’re a friend of Cousin Zhao Si and also a friend of my benefactor, there’s nothing more to say. While you’re in Ningzhou, consider everything taken care of by me. Don’t hold back!”
Pei Xiting smiled politely. “You’re very enthusiastic, but we really don’t want to trouble you at this hour. Your kind thoughts are enough.”
“This hour?” Bai Yunduan looked at Pei Xiting in confusion. “What hour? I don’t follow.”
Pei Xiting said, “When you came into the shop just now, your expression was mournful, as if you’d just lost a parent. You must be troubled by something.”
“You have sharp eyes. I do have a major problem lately, but I still have time to entertain you,” Bai Yunduan said.
“I came to Ningzhou just to wander and paint. There’s nothing I need to trouble you with. We appreciate your kindness. We’ll be staying here for a while. Since you’re Sifan’s cousin, if there’s anything we can help with, feel free to speak up.” Pei Xiting spoke unhurriedly.
Bai Yunduan had already been thinking about this, but he’d hesitated about whether and how to bring it up. Now that Pei Xiting had offered, he made a quick decision after a brief pause. “Since you’ve said that, I’ll be straightforward. Lately, a disaster has befallen my family.”
Bai Yunduan quickly recounted the matter of Third Miss Bai, then looked at Yuan Fang. “Benefactor, your martial arts are formidable. Could you help me find my third sister? Don’t worry, the pay will be generous!”
Yuan Fang bumped Pei Xiting’s arm. “You do the talking.”
“Fine.” Pei Xiting obediently set down his cup and looked at Bai Yunduan. “Even if his martial arts are formidable, it doesn’t guarantee he can find her. After all, we don’t know who the kidnapper is or where Third Miss Bai is now. Where would we even start looking?”
“True. My family has reported this to the authorities and asked Governor He to help search, but the place is huge. Searching block by block—how long will that take? By the time we find her, the vegetables will be cold!” Bai Yunduan pounded the table in frustration. “My third sister may not have a gentle temperament, but she’s just a girl who’s barely come of age. Falling into the hands of such ruthless criminals—who knows how terrified she must be!”
The door was knocked. Pei Xiting said, “Come in.” The waiter pushed the door open, entered with the dishes, set them on the table, and left.
Pei Xiting swapped the soup buns in front of him for Yuan Fang’s. “It would take time and effort, and there’s no guarantee we’d find her. Since the kidnapper has made a demand and set a deadline, why not just wait for them to come for the exchange?”
“But how can my family give them what they want? They said they wanted a family heirloom, but what they really want is the Mountain and River Scroll! And they forbade us from leaking it, or they’d kill my third sister immediately!” Bai Yunduan said. “Strangely enough, it’s like the kidnapper has a third eye—they seem to know exactly how we’ll react. Last night, when my uncle went to the yamen to report it, his carriage was overturned halfway there. When the servants helped him up, he found a letter on the ground that said: ‘If you dare reveal anything about the Mountain and River Scroll, we will kill your daughter immediately.’ So my uncle only reported the kidnapping to the officials and never mentioned the scroll.”
So Youzong had guessed right. The kidnapper wanted the Mountain and River Scroll.
Pei Xiting rubbed his chopsticks. “Interesting. They allowed you to report it to the authorities—are they confident the government won’t find them, bold and reckless?”
“I don’t know about that. But the Mountain and River Scroll was presented to the Revered Emperor ages ago!” Bai Yunduan said indignantly. “Are they expecting us to steal or snatch it from the imperial palace?”
The kidnapper certainly wouldn’t expect the Bai family to steal from the palace—they wouldn’t dare and couldn’t pull off such a feat. Yet they still came to the Bai family demanding it. Why? The scroll had been sitting in the imperial palace for years without anyone coveting it, and the Bai family hadn’t suffered any calamities because of it. But now, with the rumors about the four treasures spreading this year, someone was specifically asking for the Mountain and River Scroll. This made Pei Xiting suspect the kidnapper’s true motive.
He took a bite of the sticky rice with lotus root, nodded approvingly, and then asked, “What’s your family’s stance on this?”
Bai Yunduan had no appetite and was busy admiring his benefactor, who was downing soup buns one by one. “Everyone is terrified. Especially my grandfather—he was already in poor health, and this has completely laid him up in bed. The doctor is practically living in the courtyard.”
Pei Xiting snatched the last soup bun. “Has your family come up with a plan?”
Yuan Fang paused his chopsticks regretfully, then swerved to grab a piece of roast duck.
“I don’t know the specifics. They won’t let me get involved. Every time there’s a big matter, the elders only discuss it with my elder cousin.” Bai Yunduan sighed. “I sneaked out today because of this. With all this happening, my elder cousin told me to stay home and not go out, saying it’s safer. But even though my father and uncle hate each other, and I dislike my uncle, my elder cousin and third sister grew up with me. Now that she’s missing, how can I just sit still? I have to go out and search for any clues.”
Pei Xiting thought for a moment. “Here’s what I’ll say: Yuan Fang won’t promise you this, but we’ll keep an eye on it. If circumstances allow, we’ll help you find your sister.”
“Just hearing you say that makes me grateful. Come!” Bai Yunduan filled their cups with lotus dew and raised his glass. “I’ll toast to you both!”
They clinked glasses, and Pei Xiting said, “By the way, a friendly reminder: be careful lately. The fact that the kidnapper knows your family’s every move—either they have a third eye, or they’re watching you from the shadows… or there’s a traitor in your family.”
Bai Yunduan was taken aback and quickly replied, “Thank you for the warning. I’ll keep that in mind.”
No one spoke further. Pei Xiting and Yuan Fang ate their fill, leaving the untouched Bai Yunduan to settle the bill. The three parted ways.
Dusk encroached. The rain blurred into a gray curtain. Yuan Fang held an umbrella over himself and Pei Xiting as they strolled slowly toward the Huai River’s edge, finding the drooping willow tree they’d been told about.
An inn stood by the roadside, its white walls and black tiles adorned with a black wooden plaque bearing the words “Willow Bank” in bold, angular calligraphy.
“That handwriting looks familiar,” Pei Xiting squinted slightly. “It seems to be from the same hand as the wine banner at the Roasted Rabbit Champion’s shop in Baiyou Mountain.”
Yuan Fang said, “Look at the man on the bamboo chair at the entrance and that sweeping waiter—both are martial artists.”
“Oh, two patrons! Staying the night or just passing through?” The innkeeper rose from his bamboo chair, waving a large fan woven from bamboo strips, and walked under the eaves. He sized them up, giving Pei Xiting an extra glance, then asked, “Are you by any chance Third Young Master Pei?”
Pei Xiting said, “Indeed.”
“Please, come to the back courtyard,” the host said. “Young Master You has already chosen a spot. You’ll be staying next to him.”
Pei Xiting followed him inside and casually asked, “How did you recognize me?”
The innkeeper led the way. “Young Master You told me: a face like the bright moon, brows like willow leaves, ‘eyes that cut autumn water,’ an elegant and striking young man who catches the eye at first glance.”
Yuan Fang glanced at Pei Xiting and said, “I never expected Young Master You, usually a man of few words, to be so good at compliments.”
Pei Xiting smiled faintly. “Stating a simple truth—how is that a compliment?”
Yuan Fang didn’t respond.
They passed through the corridor to the back courtyard. It was a quaint little yard with a crape myrtle tree in the center, delicate and vibrant, like a painting of rosy clouds sketched against the rain-soaked sky.
Youzong was not there. The innkeeper led them to two adjacent rooms and said, “If you need anything, just call for the front waiter.”
Pei Xiting thanked him and told Yuan Fang to unpack. “You don’t have to stick by me. If you want to go out and have fun, feel free.”
The Cage Crane Department’s headquarters was in Yejing, but given its jurisdiction, it couldn’t possibly operate only in the capital. It had to have branches everywhere. The sturdy, agile man and the waiter, with their tapered waists and sinewy arms, were just like the Cage Crane agents in Yejing. Moreover, since Youzong had directly mentioned the “Willow Bank,” it meant this inn had some significance—it had to be a place trusted and familiar to Officer You.
All in all, this was most likely Cage Crane territory.
Yuan Fang shook out their clothes and hung them one by one in the wardrobe before heading out for a stroll.
Pei Xiting settled into a bamboo chair to rest. The sound of the rain outside was hypnotic, and he soon grew drowsy—until a melodious voice cut through the rain curtain, gently brushing against his ears. He tilted his head and opened his eyes groggily. The sky outside was now fully dark.
The song was the Yue Boatman’s Song, and the voice seemed to have been steeped in osmanthus honey, sweetly seeping into the heart.
Suddenly, a qin tone sounded, like water flowing gently down a stream, merging with the raindrops.
It was Dew on the Lotus Pond.
Pei Xiting immediately got up, left the room, and followed the sound through the corridor. The “waiters” on the way didn’t stop him.
Beyond the back door lay a bluestone path and a quietly flowing river under the cold moon. A single-story painted boat, lush with green hues, drifted toward him through the rain and paused briefly at the shore.
Without hesitation, Pei Xiting boarded the boat. He stepped across the plank, brushing past the fragrant veils of a male singer, and walked straight to the cypress-wood qin table. The person playing the qin had calm brows and lowered eyes, as picturesque as a painting.
Pei Xiting sat down at the qin table, staring at the hands playing the instrument. He wished he could tie them up and examine them inch by inch, every detail—their shape, length, skin, veins, knuckles… He took a shallow breath, blending it with the male singer’s sigh, but his gaze was a thousand times more direct and bold than the singer’s.
The qin-playing hands stopped, leaving only the strings vibrating in the aftermath.
The crown prince looked up at Pei Xiting. “What exactly are you craving?”
Pei Xiting rested his chin on his hand. “Your hands.”
“They’re not tasty,” the crown prince said.
“But they’re beautiful,” Pei Xiting said, extending his right hand and hovering it over the crown prince’s left hand, comparing them. “Your hands are bigger than mine. You have calluses.”
The crown prince didn’t scold Pei Xiting for his audacity. Instead, he turned his palm over, lifting it from beneath that slender, fair hand, and lightly pressed his index finger against Pei Xiting’s hand. “Turn it over.”
Pei Xiting obeyed, laying the back of his hand gently on the qin’s surface.
The small red mole on his palm was exposed under the dim flower-shaped lamp. The crown prince’s brows remained still. His index finger moved down and covered it.
“Ah…” Pei Xiting’s wrist twitched, accidentally brushing the qin strings. The ancient qin hummed, causing the crown prince to look at him again. “What are you trembling for?”
“It tickles.” Pei Xiting stared straight into the crown prince’s eyes, a hint of grievance in his tone. “I only twitched a little. But the singing there was off-key in several places—why don’t you say something to that?”
The male singer’s heart skipped a beat at this. He quickly averted his own eyes and emotions, continuing to focus on the song.
Chunsheng was a famous performer on the Huai River’s shore, used to mingling with high officials and wealthy young masters. But today, he was learning what true nobility and otherworldliness meant. Though he’d earned some pride from being sought after, he could tell that this guest was no ordinary person—someone he could never hope to attach himself to. He had planned to enjoy a spring dalliance, but now a rival had suddenly appeared, and one as cunning as a thousand-year-old fox!
The two of them threw words back and forth—was this a secret nighttime tryst? He had become just a decorative prop!
The resentful, unwilling gaze behind him reeked of sour jealousy. Pei Xiting raised an eyebrow slightly and suddenly let out a soft laugh.
The crown prince looked at him questioningly, only to see Pei Xiting caress the qin strings in reverse, plucking them a few times with what looked pretty but was utterly without skill.
It was an excellent qin, so it couldn’t produce grating sounds, but the crown prince still picked up a folding fan and pressed its tip against Pei Xiting’s hand. “Ruining the qin.”
“Wenshui is its name, and Wenjuan is mine—like brothers sharing a name. How could I bear to ruin it? No, I’m laughing at you, young master. At home, you put on such an air of keeping people at arm’s length and not being fond of beauty, yet out here, you’ve gone and ordered a male singer.” Pei Xiting gently flipped his hand, letting his palm cushion the fan’s tip. His index finger slid up the fan handle and then down again, tapping lightly, and he added with a smile, “How scandalous.”
The crown prince didn’t stop Pei Xiting’s little gestures. “Just listening to a song. As long as it pleases me, who sings it doesn’t matter, nor where I listen to it. What difference is there between elegance and vulgarity, or purity and filth?”
Pei Xiting was momentarily stunned, then smiled. “I like you more and more.”
The crown prince paused. But Pei Xiting’s eyes were curved in laughter, with no hint of seduction or ambiguity—the statement seemed to be mere admiration and emotion, nothing more.
“And you,” the crown prince said, “you’re quick to pin labels on people. It’s a good thing you’re neither a censor nor a judicial official, or the court would be overrun with wrongful convictions.” With that, he lightly lifted the fan’s tip and gave Pei Xiting’s palm a light but firm tap, as if in punishment.
Pei Xiting’s fingers curled. That single tap made his heart itch. He sat up straighter involuntarily and said, “With a crown prince like His Highness, who sees through every detail, the court is as solid as an iron board. Even if I became such an official, I’d only end up battered and bruised, unable to stir up any trouble.”
“Heir Apparent seems to hold great respect and admiration for the crown prince,” the crown prince said.
“Not just respect and admiration—I also look up to him,” Pei Xiting said with a long sigh, feigning earnestness. “If I could but see his jade-like countenance once, I don’t know how overjoyed I would be.”
The rain outside the boat and the wick of the flower lamp seemed to have kindled in his pupils—bright, moist, and dazzling with an extraordinary light.
The crown prince’s fingers tightened slightly. He lowered the fan reflexively, and as his hand dropped, the prayer beads slipped, but he caught them.
“One step closer—if I could but board a boat with His Highness,” Pei Xiting said, strumming the qin, “‘Tonight, what night is it, that I row among the streams? Today, what day is it, that I share a boat with the prince? Ashamed and abashed, I endure no reproach. My heart is troubled and restless, for I have known the prince.’”
He recited the same words the male singer was singing. The same lyrics, one low, one high. But the crown prince only heard Pei Xiting’s calm, low voice.
The prayer beads grew warm under his fingers. In his mind appeared the last two lines of the Yue Boatman’s Song. He felt that Pei Xiting—this man who didn’t know his place, who was bold and reckless and spoke nonsense—deserved some punishment.
“Come here,” the crown prince said.
Pei Xiting rose and walked over.
“Turn around,” the crown prince said.
Pei Xiting obediently turned his back.
The crown prince glanced at Pei Xiting’s knees but didn’t make him kneel. “Bend down.”
Where to bend? Pei Xiting thought for a moment, then took a cushion, sat down on it, and asked, puzzled, “Like this?”
The crown prince didn’t answer. He turned to the side, dipped his brush in ink, and used the tip to part Pei Xiting’s hair, revealing his slender back. “I’ll give you two characters. If you answer wrong, they’ll become twenty lashes. Understood?”
Ah, so he was angry. Pei Xiting said meekly, “Understood.”
“Keep singing.” The crown prince didn’t glance at the male singer. His attention was fixed on Pei Xiting’s back as he made his first stroke.
The back trembled, causing the stroke to be imperfect. The crown prince withdrew his hand and said flatly, “I never write imperfect characters. How many changes of clothes did you bring?”
That tingling, itching sensation was still burrowing into his heart. Pei Xiting bit his lip to suppress it and smiled. “Then write somewhere else.”
The crown prince tapped Pei Xiting’s shoulder with his fan to make him straighten his back, then began the first stroke again.
This time, Pei Xiting was prepared and didn’t shudder, but he could still clearly feel the soft yet firm brush tip sliding across his back—horizontal, vertical, downstroke… through two thin layers of clothing, like scratching an itch through a boot.
The crown prince set down the brush. When he asked the question, Pei Xiting didn’t answer immediately, nor could he straighten his spine, as if hiding something.
From behind, the crown prince could see Pei Xiting’s bright red ears and taut jaw. He used the folding fan to lift that handsome chin, forcing Pei Xiting to tilt his head back and look up at him.
“Answer me,” he said.
Pei Xiting’s face was also red, redder than the hibiscus flowers decorating the boat. The rain outside seemed to have fallen into his eyes.
“Silence the mouth,” Pei Xiting said in a hoarse voice, “it’s the words ‘silence the mouth.’”
The crown prince looked into those water-condensing eyes and asked, “Do you understand its meaning?”
Pei Xiting nodded, showing contrition. “I know I was wrong. I won’t speak carelessly anymore.”
The folding fan pressed against Pei Xiting’s chin in a warning tap. The crown prince said, “Since you’re so fond of the Yue Boatman’s Song, copy it a hundred times and present it to me before I return to the capital.”
“A hundred times? My hand would be ruined. How would I paint then?” Pei Xiting turned sideways to face the crown prince, looking up at him. “Can I do it after returning?”
“Two hundred times,” the crown prince said.
“…” Pei Xiting said, “Then you’ll have to compensate me for this outfit. I bought it just today at Hundred Brocade Row. As they say, ‘The rainy season’s air seeps into the blinds; clothes stay damp, so keep the brazier burning.’ At this time of year, clothes are hard to dry.”
The crown prince glanced at Pei Xiting and suddenly remembered an outfit he’d glimpsed in a shop on the street earlier that day.
“I’ll give it to you tomorrow,” he said.