Ch87 – Convincing

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A gentle breeze filled the room with fragrance and produced a flurry of falling flowers.
Wang Wen leaned on the rest, gazing out the window.
He was at his favorite villa on Mt.
Mei, surrounded by plum trees on all sides.
The time when winter left and spring came, was when the sea of plum was in full bloom, red as fire, pink as dawn – and there were ice-white plum blossoms, so upright and dignified as to upraise their admirers from this mortal coil.

In his hands, too, there was a white plum blossom; shining as a mirror, cold as jade, it was a flower of exquisite porcelain.
The rare purity of its alabaster hue was pristine as new snow; one could hardly bear to let it leave their hands. 

The white plum blossom’s complementary companions were a length of green bamboo, a disc of blushing lotus, and a branch of delicate orchid.
The plum blossom, a paperweight; the bamboo, a brush cup; the lotus, a brush rinse; the orchid, an ink drip.
Each piece of porcelain was a unique work fired in the Liang Estate’s kilns, whose quality matched that of Yue ware.
The four items, brush, ink, paper, and ink stone, accented by these four decorations, made for a delightful feast for the eyes.

The Liang Estate had sent him this as a return gift for Zhengdan, as well as a slip of Peachflower Parchment bearing a New Year’s greeting.
Simple and sophisticated, and ingenious as well, the sender’s thoughtfulness and considerateness could not be more apparent.
A clan so noble as the Wang Clan saw countless friends and family over Zhengdan; Wang Wen, having been bogged down by sundry trivialities for days on end, was greatly moved by this present.

 

 

“Master, the general staff has sent a messenger with a letter from Registrar Gao,” someone reported from outside.

Wang Wen frowned imperceptibly, “Bid him enter.” 

That registrar of Sima Teng’s was from a lesser branch of the Chenliu Gao family.
Though his background was somewhat lacking, he was still born into gentry – yet he was a well-practiced ingratiate, a profane being.
Wang Wen had never liked that registrar, and this letter from him was almost certainly going to be a vexation.
Then again, he was one of Sima Teng’s close aids; if it weren’t for something important, he wouldn’t have specially sent a messenger to his countryside villa.

 

Only after the messenger entered and saluted respectfully did Wang Wen put down his plum blossom paperweight and receive the letter.
But a cursory glance brought a shadow to his face.
He asked, “How many days ago did the general staff dispatch imperial physicians?”

“Three days ago,” the messenger nervously answered.

“Which idiot put that suggestion to the Duke of Dongying?” Even mild-tempered Wang Wen had to sneer.

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The contents of the letter practically inflamed his choler.
Half a month ago, Sima Teng had tried to appoint Liang Feng to an office on the general staff, and sent an adjutant to him, but was politely declined.
Normally, refusing an appointment was a commonplace, inconsequential event, yet, unthinkably, he’d then sent imperial physicians to diagnose Liang Zixi.
How preposterous!

Wang Wen knew better than anyone that Liang Zixi’s ailment was caused by an attempt to poison him with arsenic! For someone as ill as him, simply making a trip to Jinyang was enough to nearly exhaust his vitality; it just couldn’t be feigned.
Yet, Sima Teng had actually sent imperial physicians, proving that he suspected Zixi of malingering.
How could a person as refined and gentle as he be so besmirched!

What an unconscionable blunder!

 

Wang Wen’s ire burned but for a second, before he came to realize the deeper implications.
Perhaps this was the hidden evil sown by the previous endeavor to Luoyang.
It was sheer coincidence that Sima Teng had been stranded in Luoyang, but months of fearing for one’s own survival would foster hate and resentment in anyone’s heart.
Since Liang Zixi just happened to be the perpetrator of disease control in Jinyang, he became the locus of all his rage.
Sima Teng was intractable by nature; offering him appointment instead of castigation might already have been the fruit of pained restraint.
Thus, Zixi’s refusal had disarrayed his composure. 

But, this perturbed state of affairs couldn’t be allowed to persist indefinitely.
After all, Sima Teng was the master of Bing Province, and Zixi was not even an official, what good would it do to make an enemy of him? Perhaps he could mediate between them and turn enmity to amity.

We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection.
If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.

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Disregarding the bewitching dancers, Wang Wen smiled blandly as he took the guest seat, “I have just returned from Mt.
Mei, and heard of news that has quite disturbed me, so I came especially to meet you, duke.”

Not expecting that Wang Wen’s opening words were this, Sima Teng unconsciously straightened, “What is it that troubles you so?”

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Wang Wen sighed softly, “It is a matter relating to the general staff, of course.
Sending imperial physicians was verily inappropriate.” 

The smile on Sima Teng’s face froze the moment he heard the two words: “imperial physician.” He dismissed the gaggle of performers with a careless wave, and said, “He is merely a low-ranking marquess with no office to his name, is it really worth your attention, Maoshen?”

“Liang Zixi is a good friend of mine, and it’s because I know him well that there are things I am obliged to say.” Wang Wen said, with serious countenance, “Zixi, he is like a lone pine, an unbending bamboo.
Though he is tortured by sickness, there is not a trace of despondency about him; on the contrary, his proud poise is gallant, and his talent is exceeding.
Consorting with him is like embracing the bright moon to one’s bosom, and makes one forget all worldly vanities.”

 

Taken aback yet again, by Wang Wen’s forthright praise of Liang Feng, Sima Teng darkened several shades, “What, do you believe that I am blind to merit?”

“If you were blind to merit, duke, you would not have appointed him, no?” Wang Wen shook his head subtly, “But what should have been a wonderful occasion is now soured by your sending physicians.
Consider, if such rumors that the Duke of Dongying is small-minded and intolerant, and coerced a distinguished scholar’s allegiance were to spread, might it mar the image of your general staff?” 

Upon hearing that Wang Wen’s concern was not for that Liang Zixi, but for his own good name, Sima Teng’s anger abated a bit, “You need not worry yourself over this matter.
If Liang Zixi is indeed unwell, I will surely rescind my order.”

“He truly is afflicted; it is the symptom of cold-food powder poisoning,” Wang Wen said plainly.

Momentarily stunned, Sima Teng said, “How can that be? Hasn’t he come to Jinyang before, to attend the Buddhist’s ceremony?”

“When I first met him upon the scholars’ assembly, he was sick, nearly to death, yet still conducted himself with exceptional grace.
By the time he went to Jinyang, he had already undergone several months of recuperation.
No one knows of this circumstance.
It is only due to his remarkable presence that he does not seem indisposed.” Wang Wen sighed lightly, “As for appointment, I, too, was of the mind to evaluate him as upper-grade, but Zixi had absolutely no intention of entering the officialdom.
He is this way not only to you, duke, but to me, as well.” 

Now that was something beyond Sima Teng’s conceptions.
He hadn’t thought that there existed people who genuinely disliked power, and who were uncorrupted as white lotus.
Then did his actions not make a fool of him?

Wang Wen observed the hesitation flickering on Sima Teng’s face, and added, “What’s done is done.
Only by turning this from a medical interrogation into a benediction, and widely dispersing the knowledge that Liang Zixi is of fragile health, can you dispel the rumors and conjectures.”

Quarreling with Liang Feng was indeed an impulse borne of anger, but who could’ve thought that it’d bring Wang Wen himself to his doorstep.
All his dislike for that sickly invalid, however great it was, was outweighed by his unwillingness to offend the Jinyang Wang Clan.

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Wang Wen let out a private breath of relief, “But that alone might leave untied ends.
Perhaps you could take advantage of the occasion of Shangsi to invite Zixi to Jinyang on a spring outing.
Thus, shall the sayings be beaten without battle.” 

Sima Teng frowned; it wasn’t enough to let him alone, but he had to go so far as to invite him to Jinyang?

Wang Wen seemed to perceive the other’s mind.
He chuckled, “If Zixi should come to Jinyang, he would surely cause a sensation.
Then, the favor you do him may become a happy account.
The Duke of Dongying’s wise prescience and boundless forbearance shall indubitably be known throughout all corners of the world.
Will this not achieve everyone’s delight and satisfaction?”

On account of Liang Feng’s illness, he could not take up bureaucratic office any time soon.
It didn’t matter if he helped him grow his reputation; no one else could use him, either.
Once his sickness saw signs of improving, his kindness of patronage would be useful leverage to appoint him again.
And this rendition of “High Mountains, Flowing Water”, would raise his esteem as well.
Sima Teng finally understood what Wang Wen meant, and nodded, “As always, your considerations are most complete, Maoshen.”

Wang Wen was pleased to see the clarity surface in Sima Teng’s expression.
Zixi needed only to come to Jinyang, and there would be no question of his winning Sima Teng’s admiration.
This confluence was necessary to pluck the thorn buried between them.
Zixi’s future career was sure to be smooth sailing.
Now that would be the true delight and satisfaction. 

※

Horses raced, and arrows whistled.
One after another, horses galloped round the field, their riders drawing bows and taking aim towards the row of grass targets across them.

This was the archery training of the Liang Estate’s cavalry.
Mounted archery was originally the Xiongnu people’s trump card, but after outfitting horses with saddles and stirrups, anyone could shoot accurately if they could control their horse and steady their body.
Because of how much horse feed they’d traded for, the cavalry continued to train throughout the winter.
Now, their mounted archery was already somewhat presentable.

Another volley of arrows, and Yiyan frowned, hollering to the troop, “Fulong! Did you skip breakfast this morning?!” 

Fulong was the cavalry’s vice-captain, and he was also one of Yiyan’s old followers.
Hearing this, he awkwardly scratched his hair, “Battalion commander, I did eat, but since I was just on holiday yesterday, my wife near squeezed me dry……”

The crude obscenity had everyone roaring with laughter.
Yiyan’s brow was raised so high it was nearly touching his temple, “A hundred push-ups! Count!”

 

Fulong grimaced, obediently got off his horse, and started doing push-ups.
It was an exercise that Yiyan had taught to all the troops; though the posture was vulgar, it was certainly effective at strengthening the arms, which both cavalry and bowmen needed to do.
So, it became a form of minor punishment.
One would be sore and hurting all over after doing a hundred of those.
It really was unspeakably miserable.

Yiyan ignored him, and continued barking orders.
The spring equinox was still ahead of them, so the days were short, the nights long, and the weather frigid.
There was not enough time available to them during the day to ride. 

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Two hours flew by.
Everyone dismounted and started tending to their beloved steeds.
They removed saddles and bridles, brushed their horses’ coats, and stroked their ears.
And many snuck extra treats for their horses.
Yiyan also deftly uncinched his saddle, preparing to groom his horse and lead it back to the stables.
He was going to return to the main residence later, and if he got there before sundown, he could play a game of chess with his lord.

As he was brushing his mount, Fulong furtively scooched up to him, “Hey, commander.
I have… well actually, my wife has something to ask you…”

“What is it?” Yiyan didn’t even bother looking at him, continuing with the work at hand.

“Cough, so are you planning on marrying anytime soon, commander…” Fulong cleared his throat dryly and asked after thickening his face. 

Yiyan abruptly turned and glared at the Jie man.
Pricked by his sharp gaze, Fulong hurriedly explained, “It’s not some random gal, it’s my wife’s distant little cousin, fifteen this year, just the age when women bloom like flowers.”

“I don’t plan to!” Yiyan said stiffly.

“Don’t be like that!” Surprised at the bluntness of his refusal, Fulong couldn’t resist saying, “You’re old enough, commander, and you’ve got land, and you’ve got the master’s recognition.
Why not make a family, find a girl to look after you?”

“I can look after myself.” 

Fulong was stupefied for a moment, then suddenly spluttered with laughter, “I’m talking about a different kind of ‘looking after’… say, commander, you’ve never had your mind stuck on a woman’s soft chest and slender waist before?”

Yiyan paused.
A picture rose immediately to the forefront of his mind.
A chest so thin one could nearly see ribs, not quite soft, but definitely fair, two dots of red cherries dropped in snow.
A waist so slender it could be encircled by a pair of hands, and broken by a rough embrace…

His brush snagged the horse’s mane.
The white-speckled horse instantly neighed, and headbutted its owner, knocking him back to his senses.
Yiyan turned red, and instead of unsaddling his horse, mounted it and said, “You can just worry about yourself!”

Throwing down these words, he took off towards the main residence. 

Fulong blinked away the dust cloud that’d been kicked up into his face.
Wait, wait, he seemed to have discovered something incredible.
Could it be, the commander was still a virgin? He burst out laughing and rubbed his aching shoulders.
My oh my, now he’d hit the jackpot.