Chapter 38#

Pei Dan had tidied himself up and was about to head out when someone came knocking at the door to pay a visit.#

It was a distant cousin-in-law of his—a widowed woman, carrying a large basket that looked comically oversized against her small frame in one hand, and holding her little niece’s hand with the other, followed by two servants behind her. She said rather sheepishly, “Is Yunwang heading out? I heard you’ve been unwell and brought some old folk remedies from back home…” Chattering away, she lifted the thick cloth covering the basket, only to reveal several hefty bowls of medicine inside.

“Happy New Year.” Pei Dan gestured for Uncle Wu to take them, then smiled and ruffled the little girl’s hair. “You’ve gone to all this trouble, Sister-in-law. I’m perfectly fine.” As he spoke, he led them toward the door, speaking gently to the little niece. “Little Orange, are you tired? Do you want to rest at home, or come out for a stroll with me?”

Little Orange clutched the embroidered ball she loved playing with most and said in her milky little voice, “Not tired! I still want to play!”

Pei Dan had guessed that this cousin-in-law, visiting alone, must have some matter she had no choice but to ask for help with. But once he’d helped the mother and daughter into the carriage, the cousin-in-law actually knelt right down before him.

It turned out there had been a quarrel among relatives back in their hometown over the ownership of five mu of farmland. The land had originally been cleared by her late husband and had supported the mother and daughter all along. Now that her husband was gone, she still worked the fields herself every day. Who would have thought the clan members announced they wouldn’t let her farm it anymore? If she didn’t farm it, naturally the land would go to someone else.

Troublesome things like this could be either troublesome or simple—it all depended on how many people were involved. But simple it could also be, seeing as Pei Dan was a prime minister who recognized no relatives. The cousin-in-law wept miserably, as though she might die at any moment. Little Orange couldn’t understand, went to wipe her mother’s tears, and then suddenly burst into loud wailing herself, making Pei Dan’s head throb all over again.

Had he been the same way when he was little? His parents had left him no land whatsoever—his uncles and older male cousins had surely divided everything among themselves long ago. Only those dozens upon dozens of stacked books that nobody wanted, and he’d treated them as treasures.

“It’s bad luck to cry during New Year,” Pei Dan coaxed. “Tell you what—I’ll write a letter to the Taiyuan Prefecture for you.”

The cousin-in-law stared, dumbfounded.

How could she have imagined that the authority of the reigning prime minister could be so great—that five mu of farmland could warrant troubling the prefect? But in that brief moment, Pei Dan had already thought several steps ahead of her. Given his high position, if he went to the Pei clan patriarch as a junior family member, it would instead look suspicious.

The cousin-in-law, tears streaming down her face, kowtowed several times with heavy thuds against the carriage floor, then pressed Little Orange down to kowtow as well. Pei Dan talked for a good while before finally persuading them to stand up.

Pingkang and the East Market were thronged with people. The carriage detoured to avoid the worst of the crowd, but even when it neared Jinchang Ward where Ci’en Temple stood, it couldn’t advance a single step. The coachman lifted the curtain and said helplessly, “Prime Minister Pei, perhaps you’d like to step out…?”

Little Orange cheered and jumped down from the carriage first, her feet sending slushy mud splashing. Her mother cried out in alarm behind her. Pei Dan also climbed down, and the clamor and buzz of the crowd rushed into his ears all at once. He looked up—dozens of Buddhist temples among the city wards blazed with incense, and Ci’en Temple was the grandest among them, its tiered pagoda tips capped with accumulated snow. Before the bustling mountain gate, the faithful crowded shoulder to shoulder, while naughty children darted through the throng—if you weren’t careful, a firecracker might suddenly pop right in front of you.

Little Orange ran far ahead, then doubled back, grabbed Pei Dan’s hand, and pulled him forward.

Today Pei Dan wore a lapel robe of red soft silk—handsome but unadorned, making him look for all the world like a young master from a wealthy family. Blending into the crowd, he let his little niece drag him here to bow, there to bow. Behind Ci’en Temple stood the Giant Wild Goose Pagoda. Pei Dan teased Little Orange, “Do you know whose names are inscribed on the Giant Wild Goose Pagoda?”

Little Orange snorted. “So what if you placed first in the imperial exam!”

Pei Dan laughed heartily. They joined the long queue to burn incense and draw a fortune stick. The cold wind from all four directions was tinged with the thick, earthy scent of incense, which was remarkably refreshing—it even seemed to ease his headache.

He glanced idly at the magnificent temple, when Little Orange, sucking on her finger, said, “Oh, it’s that uncle.”

Pei Dan followed her gaze and suddenly froze.

At the very front of the queue, a man had already reached the front. He bowed his head to the monk distributing fortune sticks and held out the stick he’d been given. Standing beside him was his brother.

The monk received the stick and blinked. “There are no words written on this stick.”

Feng Bing also froze. He took it back to look, and sure enough—there was nothing written on it. It was a blank stick. He had just respectfully drawn it without daring to peek, and had handed it straight over. The monk rubbed his smooth, bald head, disappeared behind the folding screen for a while, then returned and said, “We’ve made a mistake—this stick hasn’t been written on yet and shouldn’t have been in the tube. Why don’t you draw again?”

As he spoke, he pushed forward the fortune tube in front of him. So many people were queued up behind them, and Feng Bing was deeply embarrassed. Li Fengyan nonchalantly reached out. “I’ll do it.” Without a moment’s hesitation, he gave the tube a shake—clack—a stick fell out face-up, bearing the two characters “Great Fortune.”

The monk then interpreted the stick for him, saying this was a fine sign—the donor would enjoy great wealth and honor. Li Fengyan was so delighted he nearly burst into song. Clutching the red slip of paper with the interpretation, he led Feng Bing away from the queue, saying all the while, “The one I drew is the same as yours! If I get great wealth and honor, doesn’t that mean you get great wealth and honor too?”

Feng Bing stared at his own blank, wordless little wooden stick, speechless.

This was supposedly a grand temple originally restored by imperial decree and sustained by royal endowments—how could they let such a slip through?

The two wandered around Ci’en Temple for a while longer, bowing before the bodhisattvas in every hall, before finally heading deeper in and climbing the Giant Wild Goose Pagoda. The pagoda rose a thousand layers, its sacred atmosphere solemn and majestic. In the archway of each level were inscribed the names and native places of scholars who had passed the imperial examinations through the ages. Those who rose to the highest offices would have their names additionally traced in red ink. Countless names spiraled upward along the pagoda walls, dizzying to behold. At last they reached the most recent batches, and the name “Pei Dan” in bold vermillion stood out conspicuously.

At the foot of the Ci’en Pagoda, my name is inscribed blank and light—

Among the seventeen, I am the youngest in sight.

Li Fengyan had brought him here for a reason. Seeing that Pei Dan’s expression didn’t appear displeased, he weighed his words carefully. “There’s something… I’ve always wanted to tell you.”

Feng Bing turned to face him.

Few people were inside the pagoda. They stood before a narrow window, so quiet they couldn’t even hear each other’s footsteps. Looking down from that great height, the snow-clad city of Chang’an had shed its bustle, draped instead in a splendid stillness. Li Fengyan braced his hands on the windowsill and drew a long, deep breath.

“Five years ago, I went to hide at Mount Li… You know that.” Li Fengyan thought for a long time. “At that time, actually, Pei Dan came to find me first. He asked me to bring you along to Mount Li together.”

Bing Bing drawing a blank stick inexplicably gives me the feeling of opening a Little Raccoon snack cake only to discover there’s no hero card inside… Li Fengyan (tearing open a new one) Bing Bing (yours is yours and mine is mine, clutching his Little Raccoon in grievance)

“At the foot of the Ci’en Pagoda, my name is inscribed blank and light—among the seventeen, I am the youngest in sight” is quoted from a poem by Bai Juyi, inscribed on the Giant Wild Goose Pagoda when he placed in the imperial examination at age twenty-seven. Also, historically the Pei clan of Hedong was based in Wenxi County, Shanxi—but I’ve moved them to Taiyuan Prefecture here, the administrative core of the Hedong Military Commissioner. In short, it’s a fictionalized Hedong Pei clan, of course.