Chapter 7#

Thorns Grown from Brambles#

After much difficulty, Chunshi finally got the medicine package and stepped outside, only to find his master standing at the door, having waited without moving an inch, his entire body dusted with drifting snow. Heart aching, he quickly draped a wind hood over his shoulders, opened an umbrella, and supported him as they walked back.

It was rare to see his master wear such an icy expression. His thin lips pressed into a single line, and the typically serene features of his face had been carved into harsh, cold edges, as though he were waging a silent war with someone.

Five years ago, when his master had been dragged down to the Imperial Prison and subjected to interrogation, he had worn the very same expression.

Back at the residence, the medicine was decocted and his master took it with his evening meal — only to vomit it all right back up.

“This medicine is wrong.” After washing his mouth several times, Fengbing’s face was as pale as paper.

Chunshi jumped in shock and hurriedly fetched the medicine package, examining it carefully alongside Fengbing. Fengbing held the powdered medicine up to the lamplight, scrutinizing it. The firelight seemed to transmute into smudged, stained spots that clung to his fingertips.

“This is medicine from the Imperial Household.” Fengbing spoke slowly. “Sun Taiyi is meticulous in his compounding — he often adds licorice root to temper the flavor. I can tell the moment I taste it. Moreover, he’s included a dose of Andrographis paniculata.”

Chunshi froze. He stared down at the prescription in his hand for a long while, then asked in a muddled daze, “Then… could it be harmful?”

Fengbing shook his head. “Andrographis paniculata clears heat. It’s commonly used among common folk as well.”

Chunshi slapped his own forehead. “To think that Doctor Huang’s clinic actually carries medicine from the Imperial Medical Bureau — what a skilled physician Doctor Huang must be!”

Fengbing couldn’t help but laugh. His gloomy mood, interrupted by this exchange, lightened somewhat. “Are you truly this stupid, or are you just humoring me?”

Chunshi’s face fell. “If I’d known it was Imperial Medical Bureau medicine, I absolutely would never have kept it from you.”

Fengbing reached out and ruffled his hair, tangling it up thoroughly before letting go. Chunshi suffered in silence. Fengbing’s lips curled faintly. “I ran into Pei Dan outside the clinic. He told me he had requested several fine medicinal ingredients from the Directorate of Imperial Medicine.”

Chunshi’s eyes went wide, jaw hanging open.

“I refused him at the time.” Fengbing lowered his lashes. “But it turns out that talking to me was merely his diversion. Those ingredients of his — he had already sent them to Doctor Huang long before.”

“I forgot. He has always been this way. A cunning rabbit with three burrows.”

Chunshi said nothing more. He quietly went to brew a cup of hot tea, placed it in Fengbing’s palms, then stoked the charcoal in the small brazier, adding what warmth he could. But Fengbing seemed to have sunk into some private thought. For five years now, he had always been like this — just moments ago he had been smiling, but that smile never reached his eyes before it dissolved instantly, leaving no trace behind. He gazed at the bowl of snowy moonlight outside the window and murmured, “I don’t actually hate him. But I truly do not want to see him again.”

What good would another meeting do? He had nothing left to give Pei Dan.

He had never had anything to give. The illustrious career Pei Dan craved, the grand gatherings of prominent friends, the beautiful wife and fine consorts, the fertile fields and spacious estates — Fengbing could not have provided any of it. Pei Dan had spent three years relegated to a cold bench in the Secretariat, the most aggrieved Zhuangyuan in the history of the imperial examinations.

They had been married for three years. Their days together, if not exactly sweet, could at least be called harmonious. But on the day Pei Dan left, he hadn’t even shown his own face — he merely hired two horse-drawn carriages to haul away everything belonging to him from the Prince of Ten Villas residence. The laborers trooped back and forth through halls and rooms, every chest pried open and exposed. The vermillion gauze curtains swayed perpetually, and the chaotic stamp of hurried footsteps swallowed every last trace of tenderness in that small chamber. Fengbing had stood by the vermillion threshold, arms folded across his chest, the wind driving him to cough, yet he remained unbowed.

He had even thought, with some surprise, that so Pei Dan truly detested him this much.

—But even so, Fengbing had not lied. He genuinely did not hate Pei Dan. He always felt that to hate would be to waste himself. In the Imperial Prison of Chang’an, he had already resolved never to waste himself on Pei Dan again. It was pointless. And besides, five years had passed ——

He had long since walked out of the shadows of that year.

“Chunshi,” Fengbing said softly, “that ivory-carved sachet ball from Lingnan — help me find it.

“I must pay a visit to Chancellor Pei tomorrow.”

The next day, it was still snowing heavily.

In Chongren Ward, grand mansions stretched in rows, their aura of solemn magnificence surpassing all other districts.

Fengbing dressed neatly and properly. A gauze cap, a plain scholar’s robe, over which he wore a snow-white padded jacket. A blue sash at his waist held a fragrance pouch, and on his feet were newly made linen shoes. The outfit befit the status of a commoner while remaining clean and elegant, leaving no room for anyone to look down on him. He lifted the door knocker of Chancellor Pei’s great residence and rapped — and it was once again that familiar old servant who came to answer the gate.

The old servant glanced at him but did not announce his arrival, leading him straight inside.

This imperially bestowed residence was vast indeed. They passed through three successive courtyards before coming upon an expanse of garden and pond, where a waterside pavilion soared above, its sharp, haughty corner the only thing visible through the mist of wind and snow. Rounding the bank of the pond, they entered another garden, behind which stood an octagonal pavilion. The old servant stopped beneath it.

“Master, Young Master Li requests a visit.” The old servant bowed.

Fengbing raised his head. Pei Dan stood within the pavilion, painting at a low writing desk. At the sound of the servant’s voice, the hand holding the brush paused abruptly — then Pei Dan turned around.

For an instant, Fengbing saw a flicker of pure, leaping light in Pei Dan’s eyes, as though the greatest joy had descended upon him. But almost immediately, Pei Dan suppressed it. His five fingers clenched tight around the brush, then he flung it down onto the desk.

Whether the painting was ruined, Fengbing couldn’t tell.

Fengbing lowered his head. “This commoner wishes Chancellor Pei well.”

“Peace and wellbeing?” Pei Dan smiled. Fengbing’s heart sank — but then he heard Pei Dan continue, “Good. I wish you the same.”

With that, Pei Dan stepped down from the small pavilion, glanced at Fengbing sideways, and instructed, “Go to the Eastern Warm Pavilion.”

Before Fengbing could even refuse, Pei Dan was already striding ahead.

The Eastern Warm Pavilion lay just east of the garden. Its windows were sealed tight day and round, with heated underfloor channels running beneath. The moment Fengbing stepped inside, warmth enveloped him like spring. The chamber was lit with the soft glow of lamps, and above, a window of colored glass admitted a cool shaft of daylight, illuminating the writing desks, garment racks, small daybeds, and incense burners arranged on all sides. Though the furnishings of daily life were luxurious, they were scattered about at random — one careless step and you were likely to step on a stray book. This must be where Pei Dan ordinarily lived and rested.

Fengbing had never imagined he would enter such a private place. He had thought a few pleasantries exchanged in the main hall would suffice.

He dared not go any deeper. The pavilion had two stories, and gauze curtains rippled on the carved wooden staircase above. He guessed that was the bedroom.

But just beneath those curtains, he saw an open trunk, and draped over its lid lay a garment the color of pomegranate. He looked more closely — and it was the brocade ruqun skirt of Shu silk.

He immediately took two steps back, unable to look any longer.

Pei Dan was entirely oblivious. He went to the back himself to brew tea, then carried it out and set it on the desk. “The pavilion is rather cluttered, but at least it’s warm. Young Master Li, please don’t mind.”

Pei Dan smiled at him. Fengbing had no choice but to return a polite smile of his own. “I’m grateful for Chancellor Pei’s hospitality. This commoner will take his leave shortly.”