"It is a fine melody—plaintive, moving, and filled with enduring tenderness. It easily qualifies as a masterpiece and must have been composed by a great master."
An elderly woman reclining on a cushioned daybed came back to herself after listening, offering an entirely fair assessment. "Yet you yourself have not even stepped through the doorway of musical theory. To have it in your hands is a reckless waste of a treasure."
"Auntie speaks the absolute truth; it surely was the work of a consummate master." Liu Cheng sat on a small folding stool, smiling ruefully as he lowered his transverse flute. "In the past, when my father and grandfather lived in Qiao Commandery, they collected and cataloged many exquisite musical pieces. Later, drifting through the barbarian lands of Hebei, they often played them. But I grew up in displacement. In ordinary times, I never even studied the *Classic of Poetry* or the *Spring and Autumn Annals*, caring only to listen to historical tales, to say nothing of musical theory... Nowadays, I just recall whichever tune happens to come to mind."
"So that is how it is." The old woman sighed. "A true pity..."
"Meeting Aunt Song, the tune will naturally be a pity no longer. Might I trouble Auntie to try playing it once?" Liu Cheng did not care whether she looked down on him; he simply presented the bamboo flute in both hands.
The old woman took the flute without showing any disdain. She was about to play, but paused and asked, "Every piece has a name. Do you still remember what such a fine tune is called?"
"I will not deceive Auntie," Liu Cheng sighed, resting his hands on his knees as he sat on the folding stool. "I have long forgotten its original name. But the reason I remembered this melody was precisely that I heard an anecdote regarding Lord Xie Dongshan of your noble house. I felt it secretly resonated with the spirit of this music, so I gave the tune a new name..."
"Now that is intriguing," the old woman could not help asking curiously. "What anecdote could there be about Dongshan? And what is the name?"
"I heard people say that over in Kuaiji there is a grave," Liu Cheng said convincingly. "The master of the tomb was surnamed Liang and called Liang Shanbo, while the mistress was surnamed Zhu and called Zhu Yingtai. Years ago, during the southward crossing, Liang Shanbo accompanied his clan from the north, whereas Zhu Yingtai was a daughter of a prominent local household in Kuaiji. She disguised herself in men's clothes to study abroad, sharing schooling with Liang for three years. Later, Zhu returned home first. Liang was appointed magistrate of a county in Kuaiji, so on his way he stopped by to visit his fellow student, only then discovering she was a woman. Overcome with yearning and a sense of loss, he approached the Zhu parents to ask for her hand.
"Who would have thought that the Zhu parents, caught up in the rivalry between northern and southern gentry clans, refused to consent. They falsely claimed the girl was already betrothed to the Ma clan of a neighboring commandery, deceiving Liang before arranging the match with the Mas after the fact.
"Upon returning to his county, Liang Shanbo fell gravely ill from sheer longing and died within a few months, buried south of the town. Just around that time, Lady Zhu was travelling to the neighboring commandery for her wedding. Passing through this place, her boat was halted by ferocious winds. When she inquired, she learned the fresh grave across the river belonged to Liang Shanbo. Overwhelmed by grief, she wept bitterly. At that very moment, her bridal gown fluttered apart into butterflies, which carried her across the river to the front of the mound. Suddenly, the earth split wide open; Yingtai threw herself inside to be buried alongside Shanbo. The ground then closed up again, as though nothing had ever happened. The following year, a tree sprouted before the grave, and above it danced a pair of intertwined butterflies, flying side by side. Everyone in Kuaiji said they were Liang and Zhu transformed.
"Because Liang and Zhu had never entered into a formal marriage, and the matter touched upon the divide between northern and southern gentry clans, the tale only circulated among the common folk. It was not until Xie Dongshan retreated to Mount Dongshan and heard of it, lamenting their true devotion, that he petitioned to erect a shrine for them.
"Therefore, this piece is titled *The Butterfly Lovers*, also known as *Transforming into Butterflies*."
After listening, the old woman remained silent for a long time. Even the several young singing girls behind her, and Xie A'e—who had stood behind Liu Cheng at some point unbeknownst to him—froze where they stood.
"If so," the old woman finally let out a sigh after who knew how long, raising the bamboo flute. "Let me give it a try..."
The moment her words fell, the notes of the flute gently rose, soon reaching sublimity—plaintive and undulating, filled with enduring tenderness... In truth, Liu Cheng himself had already been in this world for four or five months, and the sights, sounds, and sensations of his past life were already difficult to recapture. Suddenly hearing such music now, even he could not help but lose himself in it.
Of course, compared to the others, he was the first to regain his senses. By now, how could the youth not realize that this elderly woman—living in the Xie manor, respectfully addressed by Steward Qian as "Aunt Song," and rumored to have been a student of the famed courtesan Lüzhu—truly was an authority on music?
It was just like—just like Old Wang's authority when it came to weaving hemp sandals.
Having played a section, Aunt Song let out a long breath from her daybed and reminded him, "I have memorized the melody you taught, but to perform it in full will require arrangement. It is getting late. Here is your bamboo flute; you may return... If you have any new tunes in the future, speak directly to Steward Qian and have him come find me."
Liu Cheng nodded, cupped his hands in salute, and walked out.
Once outside, there were many matters to attend to, but the first was to find Liu Jili and offer comfort... Though the fellow had not smashed his flute earlier, he had nonetheless flown into a temper; otherwise, Liu Cheng would not have had to negotiate with Aunt Song all by himself. Who knew where this "Camel" Jili was right now?
To be fair, whether it was Liu Jili or Liu Huzi, both clearly had their own shortcomings and flaws. Yet to accomplish anything, one truly needed helping hands, especially since the two of them were not merely bad tempers and useless dead ends.
First was their status. In these times, without the status of an aristocratic clan, one truly had no rights or standing. These two, after all, were from fallen gentry families. For Liu Cheng, who had falsely claimed the Pengcheng Liu surname, associating with them provided both a guarantee for his personal identity and a breakthrough point for getting things done.
Down to the individuals, Liu Huzi possessed martial prowess in riding and archery, and behind him were clan youths who could be mobilized as private retainers. In times of chaos, was there anything more valuable than that? As for Liu Jili, though he appeared more down-and-out, he knew the inner workings of the great clans between Jingkou and Jiankang like the back of his hand. Moreover, he understood things only the gentry knew—such as the *Mao Poetry* from that afternoon; not only did Liu Cheng fail to understand it, but Liu Huzi hadn't understood a word either, had he?
Therefore, he still had to cherish these two clan brothers, doing everything he could to keep them close—or rather, to keep them coaxed and content.
Sure enough, carrying his load of rice out the gate and arriving at Changganli, Liu Cheng found Liu Jili waiting at the mouth of the alley. As they met, Liu Jili did not indulge in self-reflection like last time, merely shaking his head. "A-Cheng, in this lifetime, I fear I will never change this temper of mine."
"They were in the wrong first," Liu Cheng hurried to put down his shoulder pole and reassure him. "Without even asking, they looked down on us... Enduring it now isn't because that's how things should be, but because we genuinely have favors to ask of them."
Hearing this, Liu Jili shook his head repeatedly, pacing back and forth with his hands clasped behind his back. "It isn't like that, A-Cheng. I've thought it through... Over these past few years, I've run into this kind of thing constantly. At first, I thought it was simply because I had fallen on hard times, and that once I became a high official again, they would naturally treat me with deference and respect... But having experienced too much of it, wallowing at the very bottom every single day, whenever you meet someone from a high aristocratic house, even if you never offended them, they humiliate you for no reason at all. And they don't even consider it humiliation! They think it is only natural! That is what is wrong!"
At this point, he halted abruptly, waving his hand vehemently in the air. "Gentry clans, gentry clans—the clans of scholars! A virtuous Confucian is a scholar; I have never heard that the scholars spoken of by the Sage Confucius would humiliate people without cause! It is clearly the customs of the world that are rotten! No wonder back then my granduncle and the others wanted to rectify the moral ethos of the scholar-gentry! When we become high officials in the future, we ought to take this as our duty as well!"
"Well said!" Although Liu Cheng had no idea who the man's granduncle was, nor whether this tirade was merely Liu Jili finding an outlet for his inner fury, that did not stop him from immediately offering lavish praise. Seizing the opportunity, he echoed him using viewpoints absorbed from internet forums in his former life. "So you see, the problem doesn't lie with us, but with them... It lies with these very aristocratic clans! It must have started back in the Later Han, when the gentry clans degenerated by the day and the scholarly ethos grew increasingly foul. By the time the Great Jin was founded, because the dynasty did not gain the realm through righteous means, it had to rely on great clans for support, which inevitably led to indulging the aristocracy even further. That is how the perverse and corrupt atmosphere among today's clans came to be!"
Hearing this, Liu Jili was finally no longer as agitated as before, though his breath came a bit heavy. After a moment, he replied, "A-Cheng, you always humor what I say, yet what you say is remarkably perceptive... Isn't that so? During the Disasters of the Partisan Prohibitions in the Later Han, while some scholars stood unyielding, others bowed to the eunuchs and imperial in-laws. Especially when considering the interests of their clans, they could not avoid fawning and currying favor. It was from then on that the gentry clans began to degenerate."
*Those who didn't yield didn't necessarily leave any great legacy for today's scholars either,* Liu Cheng thought. *Otherwise, where did this trend of valuing pure talk over practical affairs come from?*
Naturally, there was no need to speak that aloud. For Liu Jili to possess this level of awareness was already a rare achievement forged through years of scrambling and scraping at the bottom. The man had already elevated his critique to the deep-seated failings of the entire aristocratic class; what further guidance could anyone ask for?
This was already remarkable enough. If he truly became a high official in the future and went to rectify these aristocratic clans, that would practically be a historical step forward.
With this thought, Liu Cheng ceased humoring the other man's contempt for dukes and princes. Instead, he stepped forward and slung an arm around his shoulder. "Brother Jili, you've truly suffered an injustice. But the way I see it, this really is no big deal; if anything, we've taken another step forward... In fact, by my guess, once Xie Dongshan hears the tune tonight, he might well become interested in us and summon us directly the next time we come... If that happens, today's business will have already succeeded."
Hearing this, Liu Jili gave a dry laugh. Forcing down his emotions, he apologized in turn: "In the end, I was the burden. In all these matters, it was entirely up to you alone to maneuver... If anyone was truly wronged, it must be you."
Liu Cheng let out a long breath. He had finally soothed the man once again.
However, the two did not leave immediately after that. After handing over today's money and grain to Steward Qian's wife, they remained in his courtyard, asking the lady to find a way to summon Steward Qian outside.
When Liu Cheng had stepped out earlier, he had noticed that Steward Qian was visibly flustered. This man had to be calmed as well... One couldn't just stop earning money simply because they had made enough to survive the winter. Moreover, in his eyes, what happened today was hardly a problem. If it caught Xie An's attention, that was naturally wonderful; if Xie An couldn't be bothered, they would simply find another opportunity next time. Thus, they had to keep clinging to the Xie manor.
Sure enough, Steward Qian had clearly become unnerved by Xie An's appearance. As he put it, Xie An was far too clever—he could see through to the root of anything at a glance, only that he usually couldn't be bothered to interfere in the affairs of his underlings.
Liu Cheng then offered a suggestion: if Xie An asked about the two of them, Qian must separate the business from their identities. The two men were one thing; the business was another. The official purchase had first been arranged legitimately with the Celestial Masters, and then, for reasons unknown, the two had appeared in the Celestial Master firewood delivery crew wearing crimson headcloths... It was only because the two were usually honest and humble in status that Qian had never mentioned them to the masters of the house, which eventually led to today's flute playing.
Steward Qian turned it over in his mind and found no other way. Above all, their business had been running for over a month now; the money and grain at his home were nearly overflowing, and he was already contemplating buying a second house. Severing ties with them at this point was out of the question, so he could only agree.
Thus, Liu Cheng and Liu Jili managed to leave Jiankang before dark. Yet because they had been delayed for so long, there was no time to return to their camp; they could only make their way to Jiangsheng and stay the night with Liu Ren Gong.
On the other side, Xie An's afternoon visit to Governor of Yangzhou Yin Hao had also run into a minor snag. His original intention had been to persuade his friend not to act with undue haste under pressure from Huan Wen, and above all not to rupture relationships among the aristocratic clans for the sake of quick success, as that boded ill for both the state and their friendships... Especially after Chu Pou had been brought to such a state through impetuous ambition, falling out with Huan Wen as well would only make things worse.
As it turned out, no sooner had he arrived than Yin Hao told his dear friend that he intended to have Xun Xian succeed Chu Pou as General of the Household for Gentlemen of the North to oversee the Northern Garrison army, and asked Xie An what he thought.
What could Xie An possibly think?
Not immediately sweeping his sleeves and walking out was already giving Yin Hao face, yet his temperament made him unable to resist jabbing at him with a few sharp remarks.
Who could have guessed that Yin Hao would then bring up the head of the Xie clan, Xie Shang—who was in charge of the Western Headquarters—stating outright that Xie Shang also endorsed his grand enterprise of a Northern Expedition... Not knowing his cousin's true intentions, Xie An was finally silenced. He could only endure it for a while before retreating in defeat.
Yet before he even reached home, resting his head on the lap of a singing girl, Xie An suddenly had an epiphany.
So that was it: that day, Cai Mo hadn't been mocking him at all! He had merely been caught in the crossfire. All that talk about "If so-and-so will not come forth, what of the common folk?" and "pure talk ruins the realm"... What conflict did Xie An have with Cai Mo? He had merely provoked the old man by speaking out of turn that day. By contrast, that fellow Yin Hao possessed a talent for pure talk unmatched in the realm, had been lauded with "If Yuanyuan will not come forth, what of the common folk?", and had even left his post as Governor of Yangzhou to observe mourning for ten months, making Cai Mo hold the post for him.
So the one Cai Mo had looked down upon from the beginning was Yin Hao all along?
At this thought, Xie An, whose faith in the veteran minister Cai Mo had grown considerably, was gripped by dread once more. If Yin Hao launched a Northern Expedition, according to what had been said today, his own cousin Xie Shang would also take the field, and likely serve as the main force.
Had one brother-in-law just fallen, only for a cousin to fall next?
Yet once his thoughts reached this point, Xie Dongshan felt a surge of helplessness... He keenly realized that holding no office or title, merely idling on Mount Dongshan, he lacked the standing to stop anything or anyone!
Even his own cousin would not give much weight to his opinions.
And yet, if he wanted them to take him seriously, it would require the clan to lack talent so that it fell upon him to uphold the household, before he could ever hold an important post... But Xie An knew full well that unlike Yin Hao, who lived in reclusion merely to raise his value for office, he, Xie Dongshan, truly wished to lounge on Mount Dongshan and never stir for the rest of his life!
Yet with the situation as it was?
Could this vast world not even leave him a Mount Dongshan where he could amuse himself in peace?
Xie An rode his carriage home, brooding all the way.
"Uncle," not long after the ox cart carrying Xie An crossed the threshold of the gate—its sill having been removed—and entered the rear courtyard through the side entrance, he suddenly heard the voice of his niece, Xie Daoyun. "Hearing that Uncle had returned, we came specifically to ask about something."
Hearing her, Xie An hastily sat up from the carriage couch and lifted the curtain. Seeing Xie Daoyun and several nephews, including A'e, bowing outside the carriage, he took his deer-tail whisk, hopped out with a smile, and waved for the driver to lead the cart away with the singing girl. "What is it? Did you have some new insight into the *Mao Poetry* today?"
"No," Xie Daoyun glanced back at the youngest, Xie Xuan, before replying earnestly. "Today A'e heard an anecdote about Uncle, and curious as to its truth, we waited specially to ask."
"What anecdote?" Though it was the depths of winter and dusk was falling, Xie An casually swished the crimson deer-tail whisk in his hand, maintaining his effortless poise as if he hadn't been plagued by worries the whole way back. "There are far too many anecdotes about me; I cannot even remember them all myself."
"It is about Uncle erecting a shrine for Liang and Zhu."
And so, Xie Daoyun began recounting the tale, Xie Xuan added details about the two Lius' background, and Xie Yuan and the other brothers described what had taken place that day on Mount Hua.
In truth, by the time he was halfway through listening, Xie An had completely figured out what was going on.
Wasn't it just a few down-and-out gentry who, through earlier chance encounters, felt they had hitched themselves to his family, and were now trying to catch his eye in hopes of seeking an official appointment? That was why they carried shoulder poles, played the flute, and concocted stories.
In Xie An's eyes, such matters were trifling, and he had even internally agreed to it.
This was not because he enjoyed elevating the younger generation, nor because he found the story and tune particularly delightful, but because through the descriptions of his nieces and nephews, he realized that his family's youngsters—and perhaps even himself—had unknowingly humiliated them multiple times.
In other words, if he did not give these two—no, three—men a helping hand, they might very well harbor resentment toward the Xie clan, which would be exceedingly poor form!
One had to know that Xie An possessed such a temperament: if someone pushed him down, he would do his utmost to push back, resisting however much he could; conversely, he was never willing to use his power to back others into a corner. This disposition was fundamentally a reaction against his elder brother Xie Yi, who, once he gained the upper hand, always pushed things to the absolute extreme.
Years ago, when he was only seven or eight, he had accompanied his elder brother to take up an appointment in Kuaiji. An old man had broken the law, and his brother, out of boredom, forced the old man to drink. Seeing that the old man was on the verge of dying from it, Xie An could bear it no longer and intervened, saving half the old man's life.
Today's matter was roughly the same.
Before that, however, he needed to ascertain one thing. Since this story seemed tailored for a young maiden, and his niece had spoken with those three down-and-out Lius on Mount Hua that day, he had to make sure none of them harbored any inappropriate ambitions!
"Uncle, does this legend truly exist, and did you really erect a shrine for them?" Once her younger brothers finished speaking, Xie Daoyun pressed immediately.
"I did," Xie An answered proudly. "I felt the two of them could be called a righteous husband and an unyielding wife..."
"Yet Uncle," Xie Daoyun frowned, "is such a matter truly worthy of a shrine? Setting aside whether it is true or false, strictly within the story, Liang Shanbo may be excused, but what was Zhu Yingtai thinking? Although her parents falsely claimed she was betrothed to the Ma clan, they truly arranged the marriage later... If she was in love with Liang Shanbo, she should have refused the betrothal from the start and fought to the death. But having accepted the betrothal, she showed not the slightest resistance right up until the wedding, only weeping in grief when she heard Liang Shanbo had died—is that not absurd? Furthermore, by throwing herself into the pit to die, what crime had the Ma clan committed? What crime had her parents committed? The reputations of both families were ruined just like that..."
Hearing only half of this, Xie An was already thoroughly relieved. Now he nodded repeatedly. "Daoyun is right; I lacked consideration... It was merely that the story sounded so sorrowful at the time, and Xi Linhai happened to be at my side, saying something about a righteous woman, so I brought up the idea and suggested building a shrine... You all know that the two Xis flatter the Dao."
"So that was it," Xie Daoyun realized with a start. "It was Xi Linhai... I knew this story did not suit Uncle at all, and thought that Liu Cheng had fabricated it himself just to flatter Uncle."
Xie An merely smiled. Giving his deer-tail whisk a light flick, he turned to head back for dinner.
It was the youngest, Xie A'e, who was most attentive, stepping forward of his own accord to ask, "Uncle, would you like to hear Aunt Song play that melody? When I heard it, it was exquisitely plaintive."
"Why wouldn't I?" Xie An agreed at once. "Tomorrow, have all your brothers and sisters come so we can listen together... Also, tell Steward Qian that if those Lius come to carry firewood again and I happen to be home, have them brought in to see me."
Chapter 32