Chapter Seventy-Seven: Bamboo Shoots in the Mountains

Women of the Song Dynasty were mainly divided into three categories, or rather three social strata. The first were noblewomen, further divided into inner and outer ranks; the second were ordinary women; and the third were women of low status, including courtesans, concubines, maidservants, and female attendants.

The styles and adornments of each group differed greatly, and, in general, were not to be mixed—especially the attire of noblewomen. If anyone dared to wear noblewomen’s dress without right, it was considered a breach of custom, punishable by strict penalties.

Yet, aside from the strict regulations on noblewomen’s clothing, the boundaries between the other classes were not always clearly defined.

By decree, commoners were not permitted to wear garments of other colors and could only dress in plain, primarily white, clothing. But in practice, ordinary folk wore all manner of colorful attire, and the court paid little heed to this.

At this moment, the beautiful maidservants atop the Cai Garden’s Painted Pavilion were all dressed in satin jackets, knee-length skirts with eight panels, apricot-colored vests, scented sachets and purses at their waists, and their hair adorned with vibrant hairpins and flowers.

A flock of lively, colorful girls clustered about Li Sanken, who stood out in his coarse cotton robe, looking thoroughly out of place.

“Honored guest, please step inside,” one maidservant carrying a silk lantern said to Li Sanken.

Having won the top prize at the Lantern Festival, Li Sanken was invited into the inner chamber to meet the mistress of the maidservants.

“Miss, please lead the way. Thank you,” Li Sanken replied, entirely uninterested in meeting any distinguished lady—he simply wished to collect his reward and return home.

Having won so many prizes, Second Lady Fu must surely be delighted. Li Sanken imagined his mother’s smiling face and felt an urgent desire to go home, but, bound by courtesy, he couldn’t refuse outright and was forced to follow the maidservants inside.

A maidservant led the way with a lantern, and as Li Sanken was about to step inside, two others approached, frowning, and said, “Honored guest, please bathe and change clothes before entering.”

Dressed like a beggar, he might harbor lice or fleas—if he contaminated their mistress, their guilt would be grave.

Though the maidservants spoke obliquely, their meaning was clear. Their words also drew the attention of the onlookers below, some of whom began to mock Li Sanken.

Li Sanken was furious—was appearance truly so important? Was it impossible to meet others dressed in coarse cotton? Must he bathe and change as if he were making a pilgrimage?

Still, Li Sanken forced down his anger and asked the two maidservants calmly, “Do you have a cloth satchel?”

“A cloth satchel?” Both maidservants were taken aback and asked in surprise.

“Indeed. If you have one, please lend it to me,” Li Sanken said with a smile.

The maidservants were speechless. Where, in such an elegant pavilion, would there be a coarse cloth satchel—something used by foreigners?

In front of everyone, he requested a rough cloth satchel. What was his intention?

The maidservants were at a loss, whispering among themselves. One clever girl swayed her waist and hurried inside to seek guidance.

A soft laugh escaped Cai Rongxue, who had maintained a stoic expression until now. She turned to Li Qingzhao and asked, “Sister, what does he need that for?”

“How would I know?” Li Qingzhao replied, equally puzzled.

“Give it to him,” Cai Rongxue instructed the maidservant.

“He wants to carry something… Could it be his reward?” asked Madame Wang nearby.

Li Qingzhao shook her head. Would he need a cloth satchel for the prizes? They were usually placed on trays and delivered to his residence—this seemed entirely unnecessary.

Following orders, the maidservants searched through boxes and finally produced a large coarse cloth satchel, handing it to Li Sanken.

As Madame Wang had guessed, Li Sanken used it to collect his prizes. Before all eyes, he slowly placed each reward inside the satchel, slung it over his right shoulder, and, satisfied, patted the bulging bag. Smiling, he said, “I have nothing to change into, so I must bid you farewell. Pardon me.”

With that, Li Sanken strode quickly down from the Painted Pavilion, intent on returning home.

Below, the spectators stared in astonishment and disappointment. They had expected a spectacle—perhaps a real-life version of “Jade’s Flute” or “Phoenix Seeking Mate”—but instead, the man took his prizes and left, looking for all the world like a traveling merchant.

Zeng Gongming was not surprised, knowing Li Sanken’s temperament and that he disliked making a show in public, but was compelled by circumstance. He hurried after Li Sanken, and the two laughed together as they prepared to leave.

“Li… madman, stop right there!” Unable to restrain herself, Li Qingzhao swept aside the curtain and hurried out, calling after Li Sanken.

How outrageous, how rude! Li Qingzhao fumed inwardly—if he wished to play the part of the upright gentleman, unmoved by wealth or emotion, he should have left everything and departed, earning admiration. Yet Li Sanken took the prizes and fled, displaying such petty behavior.

Hearing her familiar voice, Li Sanken turned to see the beautiful maiden standing on the pavilion, hands on her hips, staring angrily at him—it could be none other than Li Qingzhao.

“Meteor shower… no… Miss, are you calling me?” Li Sanken asked in confusion.

How had she come to be here? No wonder the lantern riddle’s answer was Li Qingzhao—had she posed the question herself? Li Sanken wondered silently.

“I…” Li Qingzhao was tongue-tied, unable to speak for a while.

She wished to scold Li Sanken, but could find no fault—he had merely taken the rewards he deserved. Moreover, virtue must be self-chosen; one cannot force another to be a gentleman.

After a moment’s thought, Li Qingzhao smiled sweetly, beckoning to Li Sanken. “Come here, I have something to say.”

Seeing her smile, Li Sanken felt his legs weaken. In his memory, it was the first time Li Qingzhao had smiled at him.

Unconsciously, he walked back a few steps and asked, “Miss, what guidance do you have?”

“Lingnan’s finest scholar, I dare not instruct you,” Li Qingzhao replied with a smile. “But I have a verse for you.”

“Please speak, I am all ears,” Li Sanken replied respectfully.

“Ten fingers play the warming tune, on mountain steps butterflies newly born. You boast of your pole, but it’s vain—wildly overturning wine, cup in hand, green stalks scatter pearls. Know that in bamboo’s green there is no shadow…” Suddenly, Li Qingzhao changed her tone, exclaiming, “Sharp! Sharp! Sharp!”

Her words came swiftly, as brilliant as pearls.

“A splendid Fisherman’s Pride!” The crowd paused, then burst into laughter.

With a pun, Li Qingzhao mocked Li Sanken’s sharpness and rudeness, likening him to a mountain bamboo shoot—a brash youth unfamiliar with the world.

Li Sanken was stunned, unable to speak.

Among the crowd below, Zhao Mingcheng stared at Li Qingzhao in amazement. Few knew what Cai Rongxue looked like, but now Li Qingzhao stood before them like a celestial maiden, captivating Zhao Mingcheng with her talent.

“Sister, what fine literary skill,” Cai Rongxue said, arranging her hair as she walked to Li Qingzhao’s side.

On her snowy white wrist, five red birthmarks appeared, catching Li Sanken’s eye.

Who was she? Li Sanken was astonished.

…

A few days later.

“How beautiful!” Little Soybean exclaimed, stroking the cool, smooth satin quilt Li Sanken had given her. She dove onto it, rubbing her cheek gently against the fabric, tracing the patterns with her fingers, almost moaning, “Brother, brother, Little Soybean loves it so much…”

Fu Second Lady, Li Sanken, and Mountain Chief all laughed at her delight.

“Brother, can I sleep with it tonight?” Little Soybean asked.

“Of cou…” Li Sanken began, but Fu Second Lady interrupted, “No, the cotton quilt is good enough. This fine blanket should be saved for later.”

“Second Lady…” Little Soybean looked pitifully from Fu Second Lady to Li Sanken, tears welling in her eyes.

Li Sanken sighed inwardly. Such is the life of the poor—anything nice must be saved, used sparingly, or not at all. Better to admire than to use, like a hoarding hamster.

“Mother, it’s cold in the capital—let her use it,” Li Sanken urged. “You too, Mother, it’s just a quilt; why not?”

Fu Second Lady glanced at the pitiful Little Soybean and, unable to resist, nodded, “Since Sanken says so, let her use it.”

“Yay!” Little Soybean cheered, hugging the quilt tightly, wishing night would fall so she could snuggle into the blanket she’d never had before.

“Is this Shu brocade?” Fu Second Lady asked, stroking the six bolts of Shu brocade.

With clear patterns, vibrant colors, full floral designs, and exquisite craftsmanship, Shu brocade from Sichuan was the finest silk, though Fu Second Lady had only heard of it, never seen it.

“Mother… what are you doing?” Li Sanken asked, seeing her carefully wrap the brocade in patterned cloth and place it in a chest.

He had intended to use the brocade to make clothes for Fu Second Lady and Little Soybean.

“I’m putting it away, saving it for your future wedding,” Fu Second Lady said happily.