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Wang Yun was surprised, even somewhat in disbelief. Could it be that the singing girls in his own household simply did not catch Lü Bu's eye? Or rather, it was not that they failed to catch his eye, but that they failed to capture his heart? One had to realize that Wang Yun had brought out a fair number of the finest goods from his residence—even unveiling a tender young maiden of barely sixteen years whom he had long kept treasured away. It was she who had just now led the dance. Yet although he clearly saw Lü Bu become momentarily intoxicated, for some unknown reason, his eyes swiftly regained their clarity. Lü Bu had heaped lavish praise upon the soft, exquisite grace of the singing girls' figures, yet he displayed no lecherous, eager expression, and still less any look of rapacious greed.
This threw Wang Yun utterly off balance. For a man like Lü Bu, in the very prime of his virility, to remain unmoved by such beauty—this was something utterly inconceivable! According to Wang Yun's original calculations, at this moment, Lü Bu ought to have been loosened by the medium of wine, and then, stimulated by such carnal delights, should have cast aside all restraint, his true colors laid completely bare. How was it that he instead seemed faintly in the state of one who could sit with a woman in his lap yet remain undisturbed? Could it be that this Lü Fengxian actually favored the pleasures of the cut sleeve?
Wang Yun's eyes swirled round and round. He mused inwardly: If that truly were the case, then he would have no choice but to offer up the boy in his own chamber...
"Marquis of Wen, were the singing girls in this old man's residence in some way deficient?" Wang Yun decided it was best to probe first before doing anything further.
Lü Bu set down his wine cup and said with a smile, "Not at all. The singing girls in the Minister's residence are exceedingly beautiful. This heart of mine was stirred indeed." Lü Bu had not lied; he was indeed somewhat stirred. If such a gift were delivered to his door, he would not refuse. Yet he lacked that feeling of absolute, undeniable necessity... It was rather like when one's stomach had already been partly filled, and now an exquisite, delicious dish was set before him. He could certainly eat some more, but he did not possess the ravenous hunger of an empty belly.
Wang Yun was thoroughly baffled. The heart was stirred, yet there was no action. This...
"Does the Marquis of Wen have some matter weighing on his heart?" Wang Yun continued to probe.
Lü Bu hesitated a moment, then appeared somewhat embarrassed, and ultimately shook his head. This matter was not something easily spoken of.
Wang Yun, grown shrewd and wily with age, would hardly miss that fleeting, inadvertently revealed expression of a young man pining in secret. Yet seeing that Lü Bu was unwilling to speak, he merely chuckled and did not press further. He urged more wine, his outward expression unchanged, but inwardly his mind began to churn with calculations. Considering that Lü Bu was, after all, a high official drawing a salary of two thousand shi, if one reasoned according to custom, he could even seek the hand of a daughter from a direct-line family of about six hundred shi rank. Even from a man of the Three Ducal Ministers like himself, if Lü Bu merely sought a singing girl, Wang Yun would most likely be pleased to see the match and would offer no hindrance—unless it was a case where Lü Bu had sought but could not obtain, or even dared not seek at all.
Wang Yun raised his wine cup, his eyes narrowing to slits as he poured the liquor into his mouth. This situation did not appear simple. Setting down the cup, he spoke with the utmost sincerity: "Marquis of Wen, both you and I are men of Bingzhou, brought together here by fate. If you can trust this old man, and there is some difficulty, do not hesitate to speak plainly. Within the courts above and below, this old man still possesses some modicum of face..."
Lü Bu set down his cup, reached up, and rubbed his temples. He shook his head with a smile and said, "The Minister's earnest sentiments fill me with the deepest honor. If there truly arises a difficulty, I shall certainly confide in you." Lü Bu was straightforward in temperament, but he was no fool. A matter of this nature, naturally, was better known by as few people as possible.
Seeing that he could not coax the words out, Wang Yun did not press impatiently. In any case, now that he knew there was some matter with Lü Bu, he need only pay closer attention. In time, it would naturally come to light.
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Several days later, Pingyang had gradually moved past those days of widespread panic and anxiety. The common people are forever forgetful and only ever concerned with what lies before their eyes. Perhaps, for them, simply being able to live through today, to make today pass well and with a little joy, was already a profound contentment.
Fei Qian, too, was now quite delighted. He had never expected that Chang Lin would truly manage to invite Linghu Shao, courtesy name Kongshu, of the Linghu clan from Huguan, all the way here.
After greeting his guest, Fei Qian hosted a banquet in the main hall of the Pingyang government office, with Jia Qu and Chang Lin accompanying them. Linghu Shao was not very old, appearing to be around twenty-five or twenty-six. He stood about seven feet tall, of average stature. His appearance was likewise middling, not even matching up to Jia Qu's. He sported a pair of splayed mustaches above his upper lip; fortunately, they were fairly thick, otherwise they would have lent him a somewhat comical air and robbed him of an aura of steady solemnity.
Once host and guests were seated, Linghu Shao, perhaps because it was inconvenient to do otherwise, actually drew out a rolled bamboo-slip scroll from within his robes and placed it beside him. No wonder, Fei Qian thought. Previously, he had always felt that this fellow was not very old, yet had quite a protruding belly. So it turned out he had a bamboo scroll tucked in there.
Chang Lin, seated to the side, smiled and sighed. "Truly, Kongshu cannot bear to be parted from his books for even an instant! You still haven't finished this one?"
Linghu Shao also laughed, and explained to Fei Qian, "I chanced upon a copy of the 'Pan Geng' chapter. Its language is archaic and abstruse; I do not fully grasp it. Therefore, I keep it at my side and recite it often, seeking to unravel its meaning."
"Oh? Is it the Ouyang edition, or that of the Elder or Younger Xiahou?" Fei Qian said with a smile. The gentry of this era mostly loved books, but those who kept a book perpetually in hand without letting go were still rather rare.
"It is the edition passed down through the Eight Generations of Erudites," Linghu Shao said, cupping his hands.
Fei Qian glanced at Jia Qu and said, "What a coincidence. Only yesterday did the Elder and Younger Xiahou commentaries arrive, and now today the book of the Eight Erudites has come. They are nearly complete together."
Some of the bamboo-scroll books from the Cloud Terrace in Luoyang, traveling slowly, had only just arrived the day before. A tally of the count revealed over three hundred sets of books, totaling more than thirteen hundred scrolls, solidly filling two large carts. Fei Qian had immediately ordered a room to be specially set aside within the Pingyang government office and had wooden shelves built to store them. Of course, among these scrolls, peerless orphan editions and rare copies were relatively few. Most were handwritten copies made by the Han Erudites when they collected scrolls from various regions. Yet even as hand-copied scrolls, they were still of considerable value. Among them were the Elder and Younger Xiahou's chapter-and-verse annotations.
"The Elder and Younger Xiahou?" Linghu Shao leaned his body forward, a hint of urgency in his voice. These were great masters of the Shangshu, every bit as renowned as the Eight Erudites of the Ouyang school. The moment Linghu Shao heard this, his heart itched unbearably; he could barely remain seated. He forced himself to eat a little, then set down his bowls and chopsticks, gazing eagerly at Fei Qian, wanting to speak yet holding back.
Fei Qian laughed and said, "Is it that we have been poor hosts, or that the dishes and delicacies are not to your liking?"
Linghu Shao replied, "Not at all! Minced delicacies and rich fats satisfy but the needs of a single day; the fragrance of letters and the treasure of ink are the fulfillment of a lifetime! Now that fate has brought the Ouyang and the Elder and Younger Xiahou here together, hearing of it fills me with such joy, my heart yearns toward them. I beg the General of the Household not to take offense!"
Since Linghu Shao was so urgently eager, Fei Qian did not put on any airs of coy reluctance. He instructed Jia Qu to go and fetch the Elder and Younger Xiahou's chapter-and-verse annotations. Linghu Shao was overjoyed beyond measure. Happily, he sought out an attendant to wash his hands, dried them carefully, and only then did he, with the utmost reverence, lift the bamboo-slip scroll and slowly begin to leaf through it. In no time at all, he was completely absorbed, reading and murmuring the words under his breath as he went.
Watching Linghu Shao, Fei Qian suddenly thought of another person—someone equally devoted to reading, someone who, in his love for books, would forget everything else, frequently going without food or sleep. Fei Qian cast a glance at Chang Lin, who was stroking his beard and smiling. Fei Qian nodded, understanding now why Chang Lin had previously been so confident. Seeing that Pingyang was about to become the largest academy in the northern lands, possessing a rich and abundant collection of books—such an enormous enticement was like placing the finest vintage wine right beneath a drunkard's nose. It would naturally draw in men like Linghu Shao, who loved books as dearly as life itself, and even draw in disciples from humble families who had found no path to learning.
However, a man as devoted to reading as Linghu Shao—he was too young to serve as an Erudite of Classical Learning, yet if appointed as a local official, one feared he might plunge into his books and never emerge. This required careful deliberation.