White-Robed Laughter by Night
"My name is Bai Yuchuan."
The moment those five words left his mouth, even the lamplight in the hall seemed to flicker.
Fang Yingjie stared blankly for an instant, then looked the white-robed youth over again from head to toe. White robe, silver belt, fine brows, clear eyes—standing beneath the lamps, he really did possess something of the refined nobility of a northern great-house young master. And yet within that "nobility" there was always a trace of quick, hard-to-define brightness, as though three parts of cold reserve had been deliberately learned, only to be washed away by seven parts of his own lively spirit. He was still young, after all. That nimble spark in him outweighed the coldness, and so he did not resemble the kind of truly awe-inspiring aristocratic youth one read of in books.
Xi Qian, too, was startled.
She had heard the name of the Bai family of Flying Snow Manor more than once on Mount Hua. Bai Liancheng was the hereditary Marquis of Changbai, lord of a northern noble house and also head of a great martial family. The manor's cold-affinity arts were unmatched in their region. As for Bai Yuchuan, though he was still only one of the most eye-catching youths of the younger generation and his fame was far from rivaling that of his father Bai Liancheng, the words the young marquis of the Bai family of Changbai were not something just anyone dared toss about lightly.
Only Feng Feiyun, on hearing it, merely lifted one corner of his mouth.
Others might have been cowed by that Flying Snow Divine Pellet and by the white robe, but he saw through things faster than anyone. A moment ago, the other boy had only called himself "Young Master Bai." Now a flash of cold light had moved in the dark, everyone around had instantly lost their nerve, and this white-robed youth had smoothly borrowed the name Bai Yuchuan along with it.
Bold enough.
And not thin-skinned either.
Yet somehow not annoying in the least.
Seeing the three of them react in different ways, the white-robed youth only seemed to grow calmer still. He tapped his folding fan lightly against his palm. His smile deepened, and the corners of his eyes seemed brighter than before.
"You three spoke up for me just now," he said. "I'll remember that. If not for you, those flies would probably still be buzzing around me without end."
Feng Feiyun folded his arms and leaned lazily against a square table, looking at him with a half-smile. "You're too polite, Young Master Bai. Just a moment ago, those three words didn't seem enough to hold the scene. Now suddenly they are."
The white-robed youth did not grow angry. He merely lowered his head, adjusted his cuff as though brushing away a speck of dust that was not there, and only then looked up with a smile.
"Some scenes," he said, "were never meant to be held up by one mouth alone. If someone is willing to speak a word for you from the side, or lend a hand, that is more useful than anything. It would seem my luck is not too bad tonight."
At that, Feng Feiyun understood even more clearly.
The words sounded light, but the meaning was plain enough: he knew perfectly well about the shot fired from the shadows just now.
Xi Qian stood to one side. At first she had disliked him a little for borrowing another man's name to frighten people, but now, hearing how easily he turned his words and handled the moment, she found him rather clever and quick-witted. The bit of distaste in her heart faded, though she still frowned and asked, "If you knew you would attract attention, why come alone to a place like this and trade words with people?"
The white-robed youth blinked in surprise, then the smile at his lips deepened another degree.
"If I hadn't stepped forward," he said, "how would I have known that here in Jiangnan there are people who judge only by the color of a robe and not by what a man is worth?"
There was a barb in his tone. Xi Qian's brows shot up, and she was just about to retort when Feng Feiyun laughed first.
"If you truly had weight," he said, "you wouldn't have had to wait for that shot."
The words were merciless.
Yet the white-robed youth merely snapped open his fan, waved it twice, and laughed too.
"You really are like some monkey that's jumped out of the mountains," he said. "You help someone, and then you still have to scratch him twice for good measure."
Feng Feiyun grinned. "What a coincidence. Someone just called me that."
Fang Yingjie hurriedly added, "My senior sister did."
Xi Qian's face flushed at once, and she glared at him. "Who told you to say that!"
Feng Feiyun burst out laughing, his shoulders shaking. "No matter. You may all remember it—I was nicknamed Mad Monkey to begin with. Once you hear it often enough, it no longer counts as an insult."
The white-robed youth stared for a beat, then laughed aloud as well. The chill that had settled over the hall earlier was somehow scattered by this exchange of only a few sentences, and the air grew lively again.
After laughing, he clasped his hands once more toward Feng Feiyun. "Brother Feng, I will remember the favor from just now."
Feng Feiyun waved a hand. "No need to remember a favor. But since you dare borrow that name, then if someone really comes looking for trouble under the three words Bai Yuchuan, don't drag us little nobodies into it."
On hearing that, the white-robed youth's eyes turned, and he seemed amused instead. He lifted his chin slightly, and there was suddenly a trace of mischievous daring in his expression.
"If someone truly comes again," he said with a smile, "then let them come to me."
At this point, his gaze swept very lightly and very quickly through the night outside the window, almost as though by accident, and the smile at his lips deepened further.
"After all," he said, "I'm not without people looking after me."
When those words fell, the last trace of doubt in Feng Feiyun's mind settled into certainty.
This "Young Master Bai" had absolutely not run out alone to stir up trouble.
The night outside was deep. The river wind made the lamplight in the hall tremble faintly. Feng Feiyun glanced out and saw that several shadows still showed upon the paper windows facing the street, now long, now short. Some belonged to men sitting still, some to men leaning in doorways as though watching the fun, and some to men with lowered heads drinking as though none of this concerned them.
But he knew very well that among those people, eight or nine out of ten likely hid the eyes that were helping cover and steady the ground for this white-robed youth.
At once he lost interest in speaking further. He straightened, hooked a hand around the back of Fang Yingjie's neck, and tugged him over.
"That's enough," he said lazily. "Since Young Master Bai has people watching over him in the dark, we idle wanderers needn't keep him company any longer."
But the white-robed youth seemed suddenly to remember something and quickly called out, "Wait."
The three turned back.
Standing beneath the lamps, eyes slightly curved, he smiled with bright charm. "If we meet again tomorrow, I'll treat you to wine."
Feng Feiyun gave a short laugh. "You may dare to offer it. We may not dare to drink it."
"Then no wine," the white-robed youth said at once, adapting smoothly. He waved his fan and smiled. "Candied lotus root, wine-marinated fish, crisp crucian carp, chestnuts steamed with osmanthus sugar—surely that will do?"
Fang Yingjie's eyes lit up instantly, and even his steps slowed by half a beat. But Feng Feiyun had already given him a shove toward the door.
"Stop listening to his nonsense. You sickly little thing—your soul is ready to stay behind the moment you hear the names of a few dishes."
Fang Yingjie's face warmed. "I—I wasn't—"
"Weren't what?" Feng Feiyun said without turning his head. "Weren't thinking about eating, or weren't thinking about coming back?"
Xi Qian gave a soft snort, holding back her laughter. "Keep teasing him like that and he really won't sleep tonight for craving it."
Feng Feiyun lifted a brow. "Better he doesn't sleep. Then if someone carries him off in the middle of the night, he won't think he's dreaming."
The three made their way along the narrow corridor toward the rear courtyard. The river wind poured through the cracks in the windows, carrying with it the mixed smells of tidewater, lamp oil, hot dishes, and wet timber, so that even the hems of their clothes felt faintly chilled.
After a few steps, Xi Qian could not help lowering her voice. "Do you believe he really is Bai Yuchuan?"
Feng Feiyun strolled along with both hands behind his head. "No."
"Then why did you let him say it?"
"If he dares say it, then he has his reasons for daring to say it," Feng Feiyun replied. "That shot tonight was real. The eyes shielding him from outside were real too. As for this 'Young Master Bai,' he probably only dared borrow half a phrase at first—a mere 'Bai.' Then once he saw there really were people in the shadows holding the scene down for him, he borrowed all three words Bai Yuchuan as well. In that case, whether his surname is truly Bai or something else, he is not someone we should be exposing right now."
Something stirred in Xi Qian's heart, and she was just about to ask more when Feng Feiyun suddenly turned his head and grinned at her, a grin both wicked and wild.
"Little Daoist girl," he said, "You're asking quite carefully. Don't tell me you've really taken a liking to Bai Yuchuan?"
Xi Qian froze, then her face flared red at once. "What nonsense are you spouting!"
Feng Feiyun laughed loudly and did not dodge the glare she threw him, though his feet had already quickened.
Following behind, Fang Yingjie only felt that the events of this night were becoming more and more dizzying. Young Master Bai, Bai Yuchuan, Flying Snow Divine Pellet, the shadows outside the window… all of them were like dust floating in lamplight—visible for an instant, then scattered again. He could not tell whether his heart was anxious or heated. When he stepped through the gate into the rear courtyard, he could not help looking back one more time.
The river lights shimmered, and the night was very deep. Upon the paper window facing the street, several shadows stretched and shrank. No one could make out anyone's true face.
Dawn Departure on the Canal
Because there were so many people coming and going in the Four Seas Main Office last night, the three had slipped into a small side courtyard used to house scattered guests. The truly important birthday guests naturally had upper rooms, formal halls, and dedicated boats waiting for them. Small figures like these three, on the other hand, ended up in the least conspicuous corner—which suited them perfectly well.
Before daybreak the next morning, the ferry crossing was already in uproar.
The crowing of roosters had not yet fully died away when a thin layer of mist rose over the river. The wooden planks of the dock were damp with the night's moisture, and the porters ran back and forth with carrying ropes biting into their shoulders, their feet thudding noisily against the boards. Boats of every kind had lain moored through the night; now some were casting off, some loading cargo, some receiving passengers. The sounds of oars, water, and human voices mixed into one mass of vitality, near and far alike.
The birthday guests from the north—those bringing gift boxes, attendants, or family members—were assigned to boats according to invitation card, distance traveled, and status.
The vessel Zheng Chong and Xuanyuan Xi boarded was naturally among the most respectable.
It was a great two-decked pleasure barge, its cabin windows newly painted, red lanterns hanging at the bow, and ribbons of festive silk still twined about the rails. Those who went aboard were mostly disciples of famous sects, stewards, and accompanying guards. Even their speech held three parts restraint, and every movement seemed measured, as though they feared losing face.
Fang Yingjie crouched behind a stack of carrying baskets, craning his neck to look. In a low voice he said, "They've boarded."
Feng Feiyun squatted at the other end with half a blade of grass still between his teeth, not even raising his eyelids. "If they've boarded, then they've boarded. What, did you expect to stand by the riverbank and wave them off? Close your mouth a little. Don't look as though this is the first great ship you've ever seen. A little Daoist like you—people can tell from several yards away that you ran down the mountain in secret."
Fang Yingjie hurriedly pressed his lips shut, though the tips of his ears warmed slightly.
Xi Qian lowered her voice. "Then what do we do?"
Feng Feiyun jerked his chin toward the outer trestle. "See them? Those two lower boats behind the big barge are for porters, scattered passengers, and people catching a temporary ride. The front is where the spectacle goes for others to admire. The back is where the crowd gets packed in. If you really want to blend in, you don't squeeze into the most eye-catching place. You squeeze into the most chaotic one."
With that, he rose and headed out. He still looked unhurried, yet his feet moved extremely fast. The three slipped past loads of longevity noodles, wine jars, and red-lacquer gift chests, dodging left and right. Almost by following directly behind a line of young servants carrying gifts, they ducked beneath the shadow of the outer gangplank.
This time Feng Feiyun did not hurry them onto the boat. Instead, he first dragged the other two down behind a stack of empty wooden buckets and said quietly, "Remember this: on a dock, there are many people and even more eyes. If you really want to hide, you don't look for the darkest spot. You look for the place no one will bother to look at twice. The two of you—one glance and anyone can tell you've only just come down from the mountain. If you stand stupidly in the open, people can tell from several yards away that something's off."
Xi Qian rolled her eyes at him. "And yet you're the one dragging us all over the place."
Feng Feiyun grinned. "If I didn't, how would you know how conspicuous you are? Especially you, little Daoist girl. The way you stood by the gangplank just now looking at the lantern boats, you looked as though you were waiting for someone to paint you into a picture. In a place like Changmen, a little girl like you—if you got lost, we wouldn't find you again in half an hour."
Xi Qian's face warmed, and she spat softly under her breath, "You're the one who'd get lost."
Feng Feiyun only smiled and answered nothing. He simply raised a hand, motioning for silence.
Just then, a porter carrying fresh fish hurried past in front of them. River water splashed from his load and struck Fang Yingjie square in the face. Fang Yingjie let out an involuntary "Ah!" and shrank back. Feng Feiyun immediately pushed him once on the forehead and muttered with a low laugh, "Look at that little backbone of yours. Even the fish isn't as flustered as you are."
Fang Yingjie's face reddened. He did not dare protest, only lowered his head even further.
At that moment they heard someone up ahead say quietly, "Where's that Young Master Bai? Wasn't he still staying at the inn by the river last night?"
Another replied, "Young Master Bai? Heh. That young lord is hard enough to please. Before dawn had even broken, he was already demanding a boat be prepared. He's probably already left first from the eastern landing."
Feng Feiyun's ears twitched, and he looked eastward.
Sure enough, in the mist stood another fast, narrow boat. It lacked the grandeur of the large barge, but made up for it in speed. At the bow stood a white-clad figure at a distance—the very same "Young Master Bai" from last night.
Only this time, he was not accompanied by just a single servant.
Along the rail of the fast boat, beside the wooden pilings of the landing, and beneath a tea stall by the water stood several scattered figures: men in short jackets, peddlers carrying shoulder poles and selling cakes, and one wrapped in a shabby padded coat crouched and smoking dry tobacco. They looked utterly unrelated, yet each pair of eyes covered the white-robed figure as if by instinct.
Xi Qian whispered, "So there really have been people protecting him all along."
Feng Feiyun gave a casual grunt. "If I hadn't looked twice last night, you two little Daoists would probably still be thinking he was really some lone Young Master Bai out to roam on his own."
Fang Yingjie could not help asking, "Then who is he really?"
Feng Feiyun turned his head and looked at him, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Sickly one, the first skill for traveling the road is not to pry into people you shouldn't pry into. If you truly want to know, then first grow a pair of eyes, and then a brain."
Fang Yingjie was left speechless and could only puff out his cheeks in silence.
Not long after, the outer passenger boat began taking people aboard.
Feng Feiyun shoved Xi Qian behind a stack of gift baskets first, then pushed Fang Yingjie forward, and only after that did he himself spring lightly onto the stern. Once the three of them had settled, they each tucked themselves among sacks, wooden cases, and wine jars. Sure enough, no one spared them a second glance.
The moment the boat left the dock, the morning wind rushed at them carrying dampness from the water.
The wooden boat drifted first along a branch of the great river, then turned into a wider channel. White walls and black roof tiles gradually multiplied on both banks, and little bridges, willow-lined shores, stone landings, tea houses, grain shops, silk stores, and apothecaries spread out one after another. Seen from afar, it was like a great scroll of Jiangnan slowly being unfurled by the wind.
This was the first time Fang Yingjie had truly laid eyes on Jiangnan.
Before this, words like misty waters, willow hues, fishing lights, and painted pleasure boats had been no more than phrases in books. Now that all of it came rushing together before his eyes, it hardly felt real. By the riverbank women crouched washing vegetables, their skirts tucked to the knee. On the little bridges flower girls passed with baskets in hand, sprays of white magnolia and begonias still wet with dew. Along the stone steps a few children were using bamboo poles to stir the water weeds; when the boat slipped by, they looked up and laughed, their clear voices swept far away by the breeze.
Xi Qian, too, was entranced. After a while she finally murmured, "It truly isn't like the west."
Feng Feiyun sat cross-legged on an old wooden chest, leaning against the rail with the grass stem still at his lips. Lazily he said, "You haven't seen much yet. When we reach outside Changmen, with boat pressed against boat, people pressed against people, and the lamps all lit, even the water turns red. That is what you call lively."
"You've been here before?" Fang Yingjie asked.
"I have."
"With whom?"
"With my master."
"To do what?"
Feng Feiyun did not blink. "Beg, run for my life, watch the fun, deliver messages for people, and incidentally get into a couple of fights."
Xi Qian could not help laughing. "Is there a single truthful word in your mouth?"
Feng Feiyun replied, "You people from the mountain are the most amusing. Tell you the truth and you don't believe it. Tell you a lie and you prefer hearing it. So I have no choice but to mix truth and falsehood together, or else you'd die of boredom."
As he spoke, he jerked his chin toward the bow. "Stop staring at the scenery. Look there."
The two followed his gaze and saw several birthday guests chatting idly along the rail of the great barge ahead. One plump middle-aged merchant had an especially booming voice, loud enough that they could make out snatches across the water.
"…Gang Leader Qin is putting on no small display for this birthday. I hear even the outer water routes around Juyi Isle have been cleared."
"Naturally," someone beside him answered. "The Four Seas Gang is wealthy and powerful now. If they didn't make a display of it, that would be the strange thing."
Another man laughed softly. "Display is only the lesser matter. I hear quite a few people have also come to propose marriage this time. If the Qin family's young lady truly is a heavenly beauty, then perhaps it can be excused. But if she is only ordinarily pretty, this fuss is far too much."
The fat merchant gave a rough laugh. "What one marries is a woman; what one gains is power. Qin Gang's only daughter carries half the waters behind her. Who wouldn't want such a marriage?"
Another man added, "I've also heard that there's interest from the Changbai side."
"Flying Snow Manor?"
"Precisely."
"That would be worth watching."
Yet another shook his head with a smile. "If the Bai family were truly sincere, then surely that young marquis ought to come in person. Sending only a few of the manor's distinguished retainers leaves things a step removed."
These words drifted across with the wind. Xi Qian could not help glancing once more toward that fast boat where the white figure stood.
Fang Yingjie only half understood. In a low voice he asked, "Is the Four Seas Gang really that formidable? Why does everyone talk as though they're all fighting over some enormously important marriage?"
Feng Feiyun nudged the grass stem in his mouth to one side and said lazily, "Do you think the words the greatest gang under heaven are just spoken for nothing? Qin Gang holds Taihu Lake. Qin Yaozong can keep both the old and new factions within the gang under control. The Deputy Gang Leader Jiang Datao has a reputation outside for loyalty and righteousness. The ferry crossings, shipping offices, porters, and haulers you've seen all along the way—one or two out of every ten may well have hands that are not entirely clean. Who knows whether they aren't watching the water routes and the human routes alike for the Four Seas Gang?"
Xi Qian said quietly, "But all those people, listening to them, it doesn't sound as though they really care about Miss Qin herself."
Feng Feiyun's mouth twisted slightly. "If the girl is beautiful, naturally that counts for something. But what truly sets men's eyes burning isn't just a single Qin Xin. Whoever marries her gains Qin Gang as a father-in-law, kinship with the Four Seas Gang, and all the boats and docks on the waterways as well. Those men on the road speak of a lovely wife in one's arms and what more could a man want, but what they are plotting is hardly only the wife."
Feng Feiyun looked as though he had expected that from the start. Folding his arms, he smiled. "See? Before they've even reached Juyi Isle, the marriage has already begun to be discussed out on the water. In the martial world, the liveliest thing is usually not the blade. It's the mouth."
As he spoke, he suddenly stuffed a sweet-smelling rice cake into Fang Yingjie's hands.
"Eat."
Fang Yingjie blinked. "I'm not hungry yet—"
"You're not hungry because you haven't truly traveled the road yet," Feng Feiyun replied. "The worst thing on the road is not to eat because you don't yet feel hungry. By the time your vision starts going dark with hunger, the inn may not be there, your money may not be there, and you yourself may not even be standing. Remember this: a traveler's mouth may show off, but his belly must not."
Fang Yingjie could only take it and silently bite into it.
Feng Feiyun gave him a glance, then added slowly, "And another thing—don't always look at people's faces first. Good-looking people are the best liars. The better-looking they are, the better they lie."
Xi Qian shot him a sidelong glance. "Are you talking about that Young Master Bai, or about yourself?"
Feng Feiyun laughed. "I'm not good-looking. I'm only foul-mouthed."
Amid their joking, the boat continued south. By afternoon the waterway had widened further, and traffic on it thickened. At times grain barges heavy with cargo glided past, sitting deep in the water, official flags hanging from the bow, escort soldiers in armor with sabers at their waists. Most civilian boats gave them half the channel at once. There were also merchant vessels carrying silk and tea, with southern silk merchants and scholars seated by the windows, drinking tea with folding fans in hand and treating all the mist and water along the journey as though it were their private painting scroll.
Only here did the breath of Jiangnan truly strike the face.
Mist and Water at Changmen
Near dusk, the water ahead suddenly opened wide, and through the thin mist the outline of the city began to show, now visible, now hidden.
They had reached outside Changmen.
Suzhou's Changmen had always been one of the liveliest meeting points of land and water in Jiangnan. Before the boat had even come properly alongside, they could already see layer upon layer of river landings, rows of wine houses, and cargo depots pressed against one another. On the water, great ships and small boats were packed bow to stern. On shore, streams of people wove ceaselessly: porters with shoulder poles, men carrying chests, men inspecting cargo, greeters receiving guests, vendors selling candied lotus root and boiled water chestnuts, singers warbling tunes to attract business. Voices and colors blurred into one mass, and even the wind itself carried the mixed smells of silk, wine, incense medicines, timber, and hot soup.
In the riverside wine houses, storytellers were already slapping their wooden clappers and launching into old tales of the martial world. By the bridge, an old woman selling loquat syrup called out in soft Wu accents while ladling it with a bronze spoon, the trailing notes of her speech utterly unlike the accents of Guanzhong or the Central Plains. At the river landing, brokers bustled about finding boats and inns for out-of-town guests, writing cards and leading the way, their abacus beads snapping sharply beneath their fingers, while just beside them porters stripped to the waist heaved crate after crate of birthday gifts onto their shoulders.
Standing at the stern, Fang Yingjie was almost stunned.
So beyond the mountain there was not merely a single road. There was an entire living world.
Most eye-catching of all, however, was still the Four Seas Main Office.
It stood on the broadest stretch of riverside ground outside Changmen, with a long landing before it and a great street behind. High above hung a black plaque lettered in gold with the four characters:
Four Seas Main Office
The plaque was not gaudy, yet its grandeur pressed down on the eye. On either side of the entrance stood ranks of black flags edged in blue, each embroidered with wave patterns. People came and went beneath them, yet there was no disorder. Greeters, stewards, accountants, guards, and young servants carrying gifts each performed their role. The whole place displayed more discipline and order than the mountain gates of many famous sects.
The great barge and the smaller passenger boat docked one behind the other.
Zheng Chong and Xuanyuan Xi were naturally led through the main gate first by the office stewards, while Mount Hua's gift boxes were taken off by others. Zheng Chong handled those he met along the way with practiced ease. Xuanyuan Xi, in the same blue robe as ever, stood amid all this bustle and splendor like a man from the mountains untouched by earthly noise. There were many people before the main office, yet he did not glance around. He merely followed Zheng Chong inward.
From afar, Feng Feiyun caught sight of him and curled one corner of his mouth. "That Brother Xi of yours," he muttered, "standing in a place like this, still looks as though he were listening to the wind on Mount Hua."
Hearing the words that Brother Xi of yours, Xi Qian felt a small warmth stir in her heart, though aloud she only snorted, "At least he carries himself better than you."
Feng Feiyun grinned and did not bother arguing. He merely led the other two toward the side gate.
The side gate lacked the dignity of the front, yet still had men assigned to watch it. Taking advantage of a team of porters carrying several great red-lacquer gift chests through the gate, Feng Feiyun guided the other two along in the shadow of the load and slipped them in with ease. Inside, the Four Seas Main Office ran even deeper than it looked from outside. The front courts were for receiving guests, keeping accounts, and discussing gifts. Behind them lay several successive courtyards set aside for the temporary lodging of visitors. The courts were linked by corridors, screen walls, and passage halls. Though it was the layout of a merchant office, it had been made to carry the stern dignity of a great household.
After a few steps Xi Qian could not help whispering, "This Four Seas Main Office feels like a little court of its own."
Feng Feiyun folded his arms and smiled faintly. "The waters have their own courts. Once a gang has built its business to this level, it stops being only about fighting and killing."
He had barely finished speaking when a slight stir rose ahead.
Not disorder—rather, the crowd opened of its own accord into a narrow path.
A middle-aged man dressed like a scholar entered slowly through the eastern gate of the courtyard, followed by several stewards and guards. He was tall and slender, dressed in a robe white as snow with only a very light gray fur mantle over it. His clothing was elegant and clean, with not the slightest vulgar extravagance. His face was thin, and between his brows lingered a faint air of melancholy, yet every step he took was measured and steady. One glance was enough to tell that this was no ordinary man of letters.
Beside him came another middle-aged man, slightly shorter, dressed in a dark blue-green gown. At the cuffs clung a wash of pale greenish ink, as though he had only just laid aside a brush. His features smiled by nature, and his bearing was much more relaxed than the other man's. In his hand he indeed held a slender brush-shaped weapon, and the floating sweep of his robes made him look like a refined artist who had somehow wandered by mistake into the martial world.
The moment many of the stewards in the main office saw the scholar in snow-colored robes, they stopped what they were doing and bowed, saying:
"Master Shangguan."
"Master Shangguan has arrived."
Xi Qian's heart gave a jolt. In a low voice she said, "Shangguan Lü?"
Fang Yingjie hurriedly lowered his own voice. "You know him?"
Xi Qian shook her head. "Not exactly. I only heard Father and Grand Martial Uncle Shenzang mention him once or twice on the mountain. I think he's the first among the Four Great Men of Changbai from Flying Snow Manor."
Behind that snow-robed man walked the other middle-aged figure in dark blue-green, smiling and loose-limbed, a brush weapon in hand.
Feng Feiyun said quietly, "Zhuge Hui is here too."
At that, Xi Qian was even more startled.
Though she had only occasionally heard the elders on Mount Hua mention the Four Great Men of Changbai from Flying Snow Manor, she knew they were no ordinary figures. For the Music Master Shangguan Lü and the Painting Master Zhuge Hui to arrive together meant that this was certainly no simple matter of coming to drink a cup of birthday wine.
Fang Yingjie was completely lost and could not help tugging at Feng Feiyun's sleeve. "What are the Four Great Men?"
Feng Feiyun folded his arms and leaned slantwise against a corridor pillar. In a low voice he said, "You people on Mount Hua spend all day reciting classics and playing chess, and you don't even know this. The Bai family of Flying Snow Manor has four most capable figures at its side. In the martial world they are collectively called the Four Great Men of Changbai. One plays the zither, one plays chess, one uses the brush, and one paints. Their titles sound elegant, but not a single one of them is easy to deal with."
As he spoke, he lifted his chin toward the snow-robed scholar ahead. "The one who just went in—that's the Music Master Shangguan Lü, first of the four, and also the chief steward of Flying Snow Manor. Of the great and small matters of the Bai family, seven or eight out of ten pass through his hands. Don't let the look of a schoolmaster fool you. If he truly fought, he may not lose to the best fighters on Mount Hua."
Then he pointed at the man in blue-green. "The other is the Painting Master Zhuge Hui. He looks the most smiling, and the most like a wandering refined gentleman. But in the martial world, the more such a man smiles, the less lightly you should take him. Of the Four Great Men of Changbai, he is the most human and the best at dealing with people."
Fang Yingjie was listening with increasing excitement. "And the other two?"
Feng Feiyun replied, "One is the Chess Master Sima Ce, and the other is the Calligraphy Master Gongsun Fa. One is best at calculating; one is best at suppression. Only with all four together can Flying Snow Manor have maintained its position in the north all these years."
By then the stewards ahead had already hastened forward, their expressions turning even more respectful. "Master Shangguan, Master Zhuge, you have had a tiring journey. Gang Leader Qin has already sent word. Now that you have arrived, please first enter the rear hall and take tea."
Shangguan Lü gave a slight nod. His voice was gentle, yet precise. "Many thanks."
Zhuge Hui, however, seemed rather interested in the bustle around him. While walking, he swept a glance across the lively courtyard and smiled. "The Main Office is truly lively today. It seems Gang Leader Qin's fiftieth birthday has drawn half of Jiangnan here."
The steward smiled obsequiously. "All of it is on account of Gang Leader Qin's face."
Shangguan Lü, however, added lightly, "Not necessarily only on account of Gang Leader Qin's face."
The remark was spoken very softly. Others might not have caught its implication, but Feng Feiyun's eyes flickered slightly.
If these two great retainers from Flying Snow Manor had come merely to offer birthday congratulations, then their presence was far too weighty. More likely they had come because of the marriage matter that had lately been most hotly discussed across the waters of Jiangnan.
Fang Yingjie, listening in a daze, whispered, "But haven't they already come? Then why were those men on the boat saying that if the Bai family were truly sincere, the young marquis should appear in person?"
Feng Feiyun looked at him. "You still don't understand? Sending gifts on another man's behalf is one thing. Coming to seek a marriage for oneself is another. If Flying Snow Manor truly wants to bring Miss Qin into its gates, then the people who come should not be only trusted elders like Shangguan Lü and Zhuge Hui. The Bai family's young marquis should show his face in person. If he does not appear, others will think the Bai family is either putting on airs, or else does not value the marriage all that highly."
Xi Qian frowned slightly. "But if that young marquis from Flying Snow Manor really is nearby and still refuses to show himself, wouldn't that be even more discourteous?"
Feng Feiyun smiled lazily. "Exactly. Doesn't that make it more interesting? The person is plainly here, yet still refuses to step out. So tell me—is he playing hard to get, unwilling, or plotting something else entirely?"
At that thought, Feng Feiyun's gaze drifted instinctively toward the western side courtyard of the Main Office.
The white-robed "Young Master Bai" from the boat was nowhere to be seen now. Most likely he had either been led off into some inner courtyard by certain people already, or had hidden himself first after seeing the elders from the Bai family arrive.
Sure enough, after only a moment, a servant in blue hurried past at the end of the western corridor. It was as though some words were caught in his throat. Several times he seemed on the verge of speaking, yet in the end he only lowered his head and slipped quickly into the inner court.
Feng Feiyun took it all in, and the smile in his eyes deepened.
Though he did not say it aloud, inwardly he had become more and more certain: that white-robed youth who called himself Bai Yuchuan last night was, in all likelihood, no real Young Master Bai at all.
As for what relation he—or rather, she—had to the Bai family—
Standing beneath the corridor, Feng Feiyun lifted his head and looked toward the half-open flower window at the far western end of the second story of the Main Office. A shadow flashed past behind it—light, faint, and so quick it might have been only the wind stirring the curtain.
The figure was slightly narrower than an ordinary boy's, and the gesture of lifting a hand to smooth the hair at the temple was far too light and deft. Feng Feiyun watched for a moment, and suddenly all those scattered little inconsistencies from before seemed to join themselves together in his mind.
White robe. Folding fan. Far too much lively spirit. Borrowing the name so smoothly…
The smile at his lips deepened. So that's how it is, he thought.
He watched a while longer, then laughed softly to himself.
This time, the waters of Taihu were truly going to become lively.
Turning back to Fang Yingjie and Xi Qian, he jerked his chin. "Enough. We've seen what needed seeing and heard what needed hearing. You two stay close and let's first find a place to settle. Tonight the Main Office is only going to grow more lively."
"What kind of lively?" Fang Yingjie asked.
The sly light rose again in Feng Feiyun's eyes.
"The lively kind for people who come to watch lively things," he said.
With that, he led the other two deeper along the side corridor toward the rear courts. Yet though his own steps looked loose and casual, out of the corner of his eye he was already keeping watch over two places more than before. One was the direction of the main hall—where Zheng Chong and Xuanyuan Xi had gone in. The other was the depths of the western corridor—where, most likely, certain people were already suffering headaches over the white-robed youth bold enough to borrow the three words Bai Yuchuan so casually last night in order to hold a crowd down.
As for what scheme the Bai family was truly playing, and what sort of face Qin Gang would show when he saw them—
Walking beneath the long corridor mottled with lamplight and shadow, Feng Feiyun's smile never once faded.
Now that the birthday invitations of Taihu had gone out, all the tempests gathering along the roads of Jiangnan would probably come arriving with them as well.
And at that very moment, in the little courtyard at the far end of the western corridor, the door had scarcely shut when that white-robed "Young Master Bai" lifted a hand and tore off the hair-crown. A mass of glossy black hair fell loose over half the shoulder at once. The servant in blue stamped his foot anxiously and whispered, "Miss! You still dared to make trouble!"
But the "Young Master Bai" only leaned against the door, her eyes bent in laughter, no trace at all remaining of the white-robed youth from the hall before. She merely gave a light snort.
"They were the ones who started provoking me first."
Then she turned and looked once more toward the river lanterns outside the window. Her voice dropped softer, and within it hid a trace of happiness she herself would not openly admit.
"Besides… he really is somewhere nearby after all."
Poetic Coda
Mist and water opened at Changmen in the dusk,
A thousand masts pressed the banks and entered the river bend.
White robes laughed by night, and truth and falsehood tangled;
Flying Snow came soundlessly, coldness before the storm.
Deep within the Main Office, hidden games lay waiting;
Lamplight stirred along the corridor, and wind and thunder rose.
A youth strayed by mistake into the heart of splendor,
Still not knowing how many tides turned beneath those waves.
(End of Chapter Five)