Chapter 132: Like a Dream Tune

Wine has been loved by mankind since antiquity, having appeared upon the earth practically since the dawn of creation. Whether you love it or hate it, wine has forged an indomitable bond with human daily life.

Possessing the form of water yet the nature of fire, wine has conquered countless souls. In ordinary households, a humble bowl of turbid wine relaxes the tendons, invigorates the blood, relieves worries, and banishes fatigue—its virtues and efficacy need no elaboration. Under the brushes of perceptive and refined literati, however, wine is endowed with an air of mystery, elevating it from a mere pleasure of the palate to a sanctuary for the spirit.

When will the bright moon appear? Raising my cup, I ask the azure sky. I urge you to drain one more cup of wine; west of the Yangguan Pass, there are no old friends.

Not only scholars, poets, and common folk, but even those who dwell in the lofty imperial courts view wine as a "political beverage." Whether in diplomacy or domestic administration, whether comforting the troops or governing officials, wine is frequently employed as a bridge and a lubricant. Consequently, throughout successive dynasties, using wine as a medium, statesmen have engaged in diplomatic maneuvers or composed verse in their cups, with many achieving great renown thereby. Yet there are also no few who, through wine, have ruined their virtue, compromised their conduct, misgoverned the state, and ultimately met with destruction.

Wine became a beloved beverage of the Song people, indispensable at every festive occasion, gathering of friends and family, banquet for guests, celebration of harvest, weddings, and funerals. Its vital position in daily diet and social life is thus abundantly clear.

"Come, come, Brother Hanyan, let you and me, brothers, drain three more cups," Zeng Gongming said, raising his cup to Li Sanjian.

"Splendid, splendid! It has been far too long since I enjoyed myself thus," Li Sanjian replied, tossing down the wine in his cup in a single draught.

Li Sanjian and Zeng Gongming had already drunk together at Huang Huan's residence, but in Huang Huan's presence, neither dared to drink freely, merely tasting a little and stopping there. It was nothing like now, in the privacy of Zeng Gongming's quarters, where the two brothers let down their guard and drank to their hearts' content.

"The jade-like wine before the hall resembles the Jiang and Huai rivers, repeatedly dispatching poets whose hearts are not their own. Emptying the golden whales behind mica curtains, we welcome the joy and deeply urge one another to wander together." By this time, Li Sanjian was somewhat intoxicated, and seized the moment to compose a verse.

Li Sanjian compared Zeng Gongming to the Jiang and Huai rivers, describing their friendship as deep and vast as great waterways, which greatly delighted Zeng Gongming. He applauded loudly again and again, crying, "Brother Hanyan, your literary talent remains as brilliant as ever; you are truly a great talent of Lingnan!"

The great talent of Lingnan? Hearing this, Li Sanjian rolled his eyes. Back in the capital of Kaifeng, Li Sanjian had indeed earned the reputation of a Lingnan talent, but soon after, he failed the imperial examinations—a circumstance that could only be described as a supreme irony. Li Sanjian's title as a Lingnan talent had become a laughingstock among other scholars, a jest for them to relish over tea and conversation. Of such talk, Li Sanjian had inevitably caught wind.

"I am merely a failed and destitute ordinary scholar; what talk is there of being a talent?" Li Sanjian said with a bitter smile, pouring himself another cup of wine.

Li Sanjian was a commoner, inferior even to Zeng Gongming at this moment. Zeng Gongming was at least an official of the Song dynasty, whereas Li Sanjian was clothed in humble plain robes, possessing nothing.

"Ha, ha!" Hearing this, Zeng Gongming could not help laughing aloud. "Brother Hanyan need not be so disheartened. Others may not know you, but I do. My brother is like the bird of Nanfu: if it does not fly, so be it, but once it flies, it pierces the heavens; if it does not sing, so be it, but once it sings, it startles the world. When that day comes and my brother looks down upon the realm with pride, do not forget this brother of yours."

Hearing this, Li Sanjian was left between laughter and tears. This fellow actually compared him to the bird of Nanfu?

"Rest assured," Li Sanjian said, his mood easing slightly as he looked at Zeng Gongming. "Even if I were to forget everyone else, I would never forget a bird-brain like you..."

"Ha, ha!" Zeng Gongming laughed all the more heartily, urging Li Sanjian to drink again and again.

"Brother, today I will let you meet someone," Zeng Gongming said, growing more cheerful as he drank, speaking to Li Sanjian in a drunken haze.

"Who could it be? You and I, two brothers, are drinking freely—why must an outsider be brought in?" Li Sanjian asked in surprise, raising his cup.

"Ah, ah, this person is no outsider! Just wait, Brother," Zeng Gongming replied, ignoring Li Sanjian's puzzled expression. He swayed to his feet, walked to the doorway of the main hall, and called out, "Fifth Lady Chong, come quickly and pay your respects to my elder brother."

A short while later, a petite young woman dressed in yellow walked slowly into the main hall under Li Sanjian's astonished gaze, curtsied to Li Sanjian, and said, "This humble one pays her respects to Elder Brother."

The woman in yellow had delicate features and an extremely petite figure. Standing beside Zeng Gongming's large, corpulent frame, she looked like Beauty and the Beast, or towering mountains paired with flowing streams, possessing a certain poetic charm...

"I dare not, I dare not," Li Sanjian stammered, scrambling to his feet. He asked repeatedly, "What is the meaning of this, Young Lady...? Donglin, who on earth is she?"

Could it that Zeng Gongming felt two men drinking was not lively enough and had summoned singing or dancing girls to entertain them? Yet this hardly looked like it; generally, singing or dancing girls brought along their instruments and paraphernalia, and they rarely came alone. Li Sanjian was consumed with bewilderment.

"Ha, ha, she is my wedded wife," Zeng Gongming laughed heartily.

His wedded wife? Li Sanjian was startled. Zeng Gongming was not even twenty years old yet, and he already had a wife?

One had to hand it to this little chubby fellow; he had some real capability to have won such a bright and spirited maiden, Li Sanjian thought to himself.

"Fifth Lady, pour a cup for my brother quickly," Zeng Gongming instructed Chong Fifth Lady. "Let me tell you, this brother of mine was a provincial examination top scorer back in the day—a youthful prodigy of exceptional talent."

"Yes, Husband is right," Chong Fifth Lady murmured, glancing up at Li Sanjian before taking up a flagon of wine and moving to his side to fill his cup.

"Troublesome, troublesome, I can do it myself!" By now, Li Sanjian did not know whether to stand or sit; he felt thoroughly ill at ease and cast several fierce glares at Zeng Gongming, completely baffled by his intentions.

Even if two men were as close as brothers, how could female family members be brought into a drinking banquet? Men and women were to be kept apart—how could one allow his own wife to be seen by others?

"Brother need not be so constrained," Zeng Gongming said, as if reading Li Sanjian's thoughts with a chuckle. "Chong Fifth Lady is my betrothed wife, not an outsider. Brother need not be so stiff; just make yourself at home."

When Zeng Gongming returned to Lingnan and reached his nineteenth year, his family had arranged a match for him with a member of the Chong clan, a collateral branch of a prominent Song surname that had migrated to Lingnan several generations prior. The engagement was already settled, lacking only the final ceremony. After the coming New Year's Day, once Zeng Gongming turned twenty, the wedding would take place.

Lingnan was a region where Han Chinese and various indigenous peoples lived intermingled, and relatively speaking, people there paid less heed to strict Han rituals. Consequently, Chong Fifth Lady occasionally visited Zeng Gongming's residence to look after his daily needs.

"Brother, your younger brother here is about to have a household of his own. When will you find a place to settle down, Brother?" Zeng Gongming asked boldly and smugly.

"Drink, let us drink. You and I are here to drink—why ask so much?" Hearing Zeng Gongming's words, Li Sanjian could not help thinking once more of Li Qingzhao. Her delicate and graceful figure emerged in his mind, drawing a sweet, involuntary smile to his lips.

Now that these imperial examinations were concluded, it was indeed time to propose marriage to the Li household, Li Sanjian reflected silently.

...

"Lord Li, please drain this cup to the full." In the residence of Zhao Tingzhi, Acting Vice Minister of the Ministry of Personnel, Drafter of the Secretariat, and Supervising Imperial Censor, Zhao Tingzhi raised his cup to Li Gefei.

"Let us drink together, let us drink together. Please, Minister Zhao," Li Gefei replied, returning the courtesy.

The two men emptied their cups simultaneously and then engaged in pleasant conversation. Host and guest conversed most cordially; on the surface, the banquet atmosphere could not have been more harmonious, each speaking to the other like old friends who had not met for years.

Yet this was merely a superficial appearance. In truth, Li Gefei's heart was filled with bottomless perplexity.

Who was Zhao Tingzhi? Zhao Tingzhi was the Vice Minister of Personnel, Drafter of the Secretariat, and Supervising Imperial Censor—a heavyweight official of the imperial court, standing merely a single step away from the rank of Chief Councilor. Before long, he might well ascend to the supreme post of Chief Councilor, wielding immense power.

As for Li Gefei, he had recently been reassigned as an Assistant Secretary in the Ministry of Personnel. Although he too was a court official of no low official rank, his position was peripheral and inconsequential. In the court hierarchy, Li Gefei and Zhao Tingzhi could not be mentioned in the same breath. What was more, Li Gefei was Zhao Tingzhi's subordinate...

For Zhao Tingzhi to suddenly host a banquet for Li Gefei made the latter feel both flattered and utterly mystified, unable to fathom why Zhao Tingzhi had taken such an unexpected step.

Most crucially, Li Gefei was a partisan of the Yuanyou faction. In the first year of the Shaosheng era, precisely for this reason, Li Gefei had been stripped of his office, dismissed, and exiled. It was only in the third year of Shaosheng that he had been recalled to the imperial center.

Zhao Tingzhi, on the other hand, was a staunch advocate of the "continuation of former policies" school, sparing no effort to purge and suppress the officials of the Yuanyou faction, and harbored deep-seated grievances against figures like Su Shi and Huang Tingjian.

With their political views diametrically opposed, common sense dictated that they should be as irreconcilable as fire and water, viewing each other as mortal enemies—or at the very least, avoiding each other for the rest of their days.

"Lord Zhao, why did you summon your humble servant here today? What is your real purpose?" Li Gefei was a straightforward man who could never keep matters bottled up inside. Setting down his cup, he posed the question.

Zhao Tingzhi smiled faintly upon hearing this. "Wenshu, why so suspicious? Today, this official has no other motive than the fact that you and I are fellow provincials. I merely invited Wenshu here to chat about our hometown ties—is that not a delight?"

Spare me, Li Gefei thought to yourself. When you and Zhang Dun drove me out of the imperial court, why did you never speak of hometown ties? Now every other word is about hometown ties; only a ghost would believe you. Zhao Tingzhi must certainly have an ulterior motive.

Li Gefei, styled Wenshu, was a native of Zhangqiu in Qizhou, while Zhao Tingzhi was a native of Zhucheng in Mizhou. The two places were not far apart, both belonging to the Eastern Jingdong Circuit of the Song dynasty, and could indeed be considered compatriots.

"Lord Zhao is a senior scholar of vast learning; how would your humble servant dare presume to claim fellow-provincial status with your lordship?" Since Zhao Tingzhi refused to reveal his true purpose, Li Gefei could not press further and merely offered a perfunctory assent.

Zhao Tingzhi had obtained his imperial degree in the third year of Xining, whereas Li Gefei had passed the examinations in the ninth year of Xining—a full six years junior to Zhao Tingzhi, entering official life much later. Consequently, Li Gefei addressed him as a senior.

"I often remember the brook pavilion at dusk, deeply intoxicated, forgetting the way back. When our enjoyment was spent and we returned by boat late at night, we mistakenly entered the depths of the lotus blossoms. Struggling to cross, struggling to cross, startling a shore full of gulls and herons." After host and guest had enjoyed themselves to the full, Zhao Tingzhi suddenly recited a lyric poem.

Hearing this, Li Gefei was seized with sudden, profound alarm. Was this not the "To the Tune of 'Like a Dream'" composed by his own only daughter, Li Qingzhao? Could this be his true purpose? Li Gefei wondered in consternation.