Shaosheng Year 3, Autumn.
Tea Ji opened for three months, became Bianjing's most peculiar place.
Peculiar not in tea—tea still those teas, Longjing, Pu'er, Wuyi Rock Tea, nothing fancy. Peculiar in tea selling method. Enter door first get a paper, on it printed tea name and price, self select, selected give to waiter, waiter use a long-spout copper pot brew on spot. Tea money pay first, finish drink then go, no lingering, no pleasantries, no serving people sitting chatting. Capital people said, this not like teahouse, more like pawnshop.
But colder it is, more people squeeze in. Three months down, Tea Ji's daily turnover from five strings rose to fifty strings, door often lined up. Eunuch Li recorded一笔 (bi) after一笔 (bi) on ledger, eyebrows frowned deeper and deeper.
"Niangzi, Empress Dowager knows, fear not good."
"Empress Dowager knows. She said tea too expensive, let sell less."
Eunuch Li looked at me, didn't speak, closed ledger.
What I didn't say is, Empress Dowager also said another sentence: "She do business better than manage Six Palaces."
I didn't know if this praise or scold.
That afternoon, Tea Ji came a special guest.
I was behind counter calculating accounts. Autumn afternoon sunlight from window lattice shone in, warm. Door wind chime rang once—copper, Zhao Xu brought back from Hangzhou, sound very crisp, like water drop into well.
I looked up.
He stood at door. Moon-white straight robe, black gauze folded-up scarf, waist tied with that white jade. Exactly same clothes as temple worship day. But expression different. That day solemn, today—today like teenager sneaking out to play smug. Mouth corner upturned, eyes bright, like nine-year-old reaching osmanthus. He stood at door, didn't immediately enter. He looked at counter ledger, looked at wall tea menu, looked at those few tea drinking guests.
He walked to counter, sat down opposite me.
"Shopkeeper, drink tea."
I suppressed laugh. "Guest drink what?"
"Your place what best?"
"Longjing. Newly arrived, pre-Qingming tea."
"Then Longjing."
"Eighty wen."
He took silver from sleeve, placed on counter. When I gave change, his fingers touched my hand. Fast, light like willow catkin brushing water surface. But his fingertips hot.
"Guest first time come?"
"Mm. Heard people say, here have a female shopkeeper, tea brew good, person also good looking."
"Who said?"
"Street people. Bianjing street, all saying."
"Say what?"
"Say—" he lowered voice, like saying something incredible secret. "Say Empress Niangniang opened teahouse outside palace."
My hand teacup paused. Tea water swayed, spilled a bit on counter. He extended hand, used sleeve to wipe water off. Sleeve wet a small patch, he didn't mind.
"You afraid?"
"Not afraid. Tea Ji ledger, Empress Dowager saw. Empress Dowager said, tea too expensive."
"Then you afraid Empress Dowager?"
"Not afraid. Empress Dowager said expensive, I cheapen one wen. She said nothing else."
He picked up teacup, drank a mouthful. Longjing, pre-Qingming, leaves in cup unfolded, piece by piece, like just woke spring. He drank very slow, like tasting something. Not tasting tea, tasting something else.
"A-Heng."
"Mm."
"You know I today why come?"
"Why?"
"Missed you."
His voice low as whisper, only I heard. Behind counter waiter wiping table, guests chatting, wind chime ringing. No one heard. But I heard. My ears red.
"You not see me every day?"
"That Empress. Not shopkeeper."
He put down teacup, looked at me. His eyes very bright, inside have light. Not sunlight, something else.
"A-Heng."
"Mm."
"You behind counter calculating accounts appearance, and in Qingshou Palace approving palace affairs appearance different."
"Where different?"
"Here—" he pointed at his mouth corner. "Is upturned."
I didn't speak. He picked up teacup, drank another mouthful.
"Another cup."
"Eighty wen."
"Not just gave change?"
"That last cup. This cup need pay again."
He paused. Then laughed, laughed very loud, startled neighboring table guests. He took another silver from sleeve, placed on counter.
"No need change. Extra count as tip."
"Guest generous. But Tea Ji not accept tips."
"Why?"
"Because shopkeeper not lack money."
His eyebrow ridge raised, smile deeper. "Then you lack what?"
"Not lack."
"Then why open teahouse?"
"Because—" I thought. "Song people don't understand, I but think fun."
He looked at me, looked long time. Then extended hand, tucked a strand of hair hanging by my temple behind ear. His fingers touched my ear, very light, very fast. But his palm very hot.
"A-Heng."
"Mm."
"Future, only brew tea. Not brew coffee."
"Song dynasty no coffee."
"Then best."
He finished cup tea. Stood up, straightened clothes.
"Leaving."
"Guest take care."
He walked to door, stopped. Turned back to look at me. Sunlight from behind him shone in, hid his face in shadow. Only eyes bright. Wind chime rang three times.
He didn't leave. He stood across street under locust tree, leaning against trunk, looking at Tea Ji door. I didn't go out. I stood behind counter, through window, looking at him. His shadow by sunset stretched very long, cast on bluestone road. He stood long time. Long enough waiter wiped table three times, long enough guests changed batch after batch, long enough sun set from west, street lamps lit one by one. He still there.
Sky almost dark, he turned and left. Robe hem stepped on stone ground, pa pa pa, same as nine-year-old.
Across street corner, there was a person also watching.
He sat at tea stall, before him a bowl tea, from afternoon placed to evening, one mouthful not drank. He wearing gray robe, waist hanging an inconspicuous wooden plaque. Censorate. From Zhao Xu entered Tea Ji started watching. Watched Emperor sit at counter, watched Emperor talk to female shopkeeper, watched Emperor laughed, watched Emperor extended hand tucked female shopkeeper hair behind ear, watched Emperor stood under locust tree, watched whole afternoon. He watched long time. Long enough tea cold, long enough street lamps lit, long enough Emperor left. He put that bowl cold tea money on table, stood up, straightened clothes, walked Censorate direction. His steps very steady, every step same length. But his hand, gripping that wooden plaque, gripped very tight.
Censorate lamp lit whole night.
That evening, a memorial sent to Chongqing Hall.
Not Zhao Xu approved. Empress Dowager although long not approved memorials, this one, she personally wrote. Red brush on memorial wrote one line:
"Empress leave palace do business, what propriety."
She put down brush, leaned on pillow. Her face very white, lips no blood color. But she smiled. That smile very faint, faint to almost invisible. She closed memorial, placed by pillow. Not sent out. Also not told Zhao Xu.
Outside window moon very round, very bright. She looked at moon, looked long time.
"What propriety." She whispered, like saying to herself. "What she does, which one proper?"
She smiled. Coughed few times. Very light, like afraid startle something.
She pressed memorial under pillow, with those old paper strips together. She recorded eleven year paper strips. Future, should him record.
(End of Chapter 49)