### Chapter 14: Sharing a Bed
The flickering lamp cast shadows, making the bed Zhuang Yubai had slept on for several nights suddenly feel unfamiliar. He stretched out his arms to measure it—left hand to the wall, right hand to the edge of the bed—it was only a single bed…
Why hadn’t he thought about how two people would sleep on one bed before? It was all because Meng Zhizhang hadn’t even gotten into bed that night, and he left the next day.
A pound of rice costs 8 wen, a toothbrush 15 wen… this bed must cost a few hundred wen at least. Buying a new bed was out of the question. They had to share it. At least for tonight.
Zhuang Yubai wasn’t new to sharing a bed with others. During field trips, he had slept on large communal beds with five or six people. But those were special circumstances, forced by the situation, understandable and excusable.
This was different. Two single men, alone in a room, sharing a bed… The thought made Zhuang Yubai a bit uneasy.
The sound of water stopped, followed by the clatter of a wooden basin… Meng Zhizhang had finished washing up and was tidying up.
The victorious general returning from the battlefield, Zhuang Yubai felt like he was facing a formidable enemy. How should he greet him?
“Hello, Scholar Meng, welcome to bed.”
Ah! Why did that sound like he was inviting a guest? So strange. No, no.
“Good evening, Meng Zhizhang.”
Hmm… that was too formal. Not suitable.
“Zhizhang, come to bed!”
Eek! Was that too enthusiastic? Calling his name at night, too ambiguous.
Footsteps in the courtyard grew closer, nearing the door…
Zhuang Yubai took a deep breath, his heart pounding like a drum.
“Zhuang Yubai, you’re a straight man! Show some manly courage!”
Even straight man Zhuang Yubai didn’t understand why he was trying to pump himself up.
“Knock, knock, knock,” came the sound at the door, and someone was outside.
Zhuang Yubai, who was a mess on the bed, suddenly froze.
“Amber, may I come in?”
…
Silence.
“Knock, knock, knock,” the knocking grew heavier.
…
Hearing no response from inside, “Amber?”
“Yes… yes, please come in!” Zhuang Yubai replied loudly, trying to sit up straight.
The wooden door opened, and Meng Zhizhang walked in gracefully, bathed in moonlight, as dignified as a sage descended to the mortal world.
He looked up to see Zhuang Yubai awkwardly huddled in a corner of the bed. His loose, coarse clothes were haphazardly draped over him, making him look even thinner and frailer.
And his hands raised to his chest… were tied with cloth?
“What is this…?”
Meng Zhizhang’s brow furrowed slightly, then he regained his composure, waiting calmly for Zhuang Yubai’s explanation.
Zhuang Yubai shifted, moving his feet out from under him.
…He had tied his feet too!
He had mimicked how Meng Zhizhang had tied him up on the first day he arrived.
“I like to sleep tied up…” Zhuang Yubai grinned sheepishly, showing a few small white teeth, then quickly suppressed his smile and said confidently, “…it gives me a sense of security!”
…
Meng Zhizhang was momentarily taken aback, but said nothing more. With his hair still damp, he turned and gently closed the wooden door, shutting out the faint moonlight, then walked straight inside with a swaying shadow.
The flickering lamp, the swaying shadows, the wavering heart.
Meng Zhizhang reached up to take a book bag from the full wall of books, pulled out two scrolls, and sat steadily at the desk.
He lit the lamp, ground the ink, dipped the brush, and began to copy stroke by stroke, as if he had completely forgotten there was a Zhuang Yubai on the bed.
Zhuang Yubai sat dazed on the bed, not knowing how long had passed until his hands and feet went numb, bringing him back to his senses.
“Meng, aren’t you going to sleep?” he tentatively asked.
The lamp flickered. On the paper, the shadow of the pen tip swayed lightly. Meng Zhizhang’s gaze remained on the book.
“You sleep first.”
“…”
At this point, Zhuang Yubai had nothing else to do but sleep, so he obediently lay down on his side with his back against the wall.
Lying on his side saved space.
He rolled his dark eyes, looking at his pillow, then at Meng Zhizhang’s pillow squeezed beside it. The pillow for Meng Zhizhang was one he had painstakingly dug out from the bottom of the cabinet.
If a bed could fit two pillows, it could fit two people.
But facing outward meant he would be facing Meng Zhizhang while sleeping, wouldn’t it?
Zhuang Yubai was self-aware enough to know he didn’t sleep well, which was why he came up with the idea of tying his hands and feet. But even tied up, it didn’t seem safe. What if he ended up with his face against Meng Zhizhang’s… oh! Unexplainable!
Thinking himself considerate, Zhuang Yubai began to empathize. If… yes, if that campus heartthrob were to face him while sleeping, how would he feel?
Of course, it couldn’t be compared like that. After all, that heartthrob was a contact list, desperately needing a bucket of herbal medicine for rescue. He was different, and so was Meng Zhizhang. They were both straight A guys, gentlemen, and straightforward good brothers.
Zhuang Yubai flipped over, facing the wall as if reflecting on his actions.
The light from behind cast his shadow fully on the wall. He traced his head, ears, cheeks, and shoulders with his gaze over and over…
The sound of a book page turning startled Zhuang Yubai awake.
He didn’t know when he had fallen asleep. He quickly turned his head to look behind him. Half the bed was empty, with no sign of having been touched. Not far away, Meng Zhizhang was still bent over the desk, writing under the lamp.
Unable to force himself to sleep, Zhuang Yubai untied his hands and feet, got out of bed, put on his outer robe, and walked toward the light.
The right hand that had been wielding a hoe in the fields during the day was now holding a bamboo pen, writing on a finely bound blank book. His elbow hovered lightly, wrist steady, as rows of tiny characters appeared on the page.
Near the top of the page, close to the fish tail side, was a red seal. Zhuang Yubai leaned in, tilting his head to recognize it. Three, Province, Academy.
“…It’s a wealthy academy!”
Meng Zhizhang paused his pen, turned his face to look at the sleepy “night wanderer” before him, his eyes showing a hint of surprise that quickly vanished:
“Wealthy? How do you know?”
“You can tell by the paper. This old book’s paper is good too, though yellowed, it has no mold spots or wormholes. But compared to this Sansheng Academy paper, it’s still a notch below, the difference is clear.”
Zhuang Yubai said as he leaned closer.
His exploring fingers reached over, pale fingers dragging shadows as they gently caressed the smooth paper, as if feeling something.
Unintentionally, Zhuang Yubai’s actions had already crossed the social safety distance. A few strands of amber hair brushed against Meng Zhizhang’s face, seemingly far yet near. Rationality told Meng Zhizhang he should move back, giving the writing space to the other.
But his legs under the table didn’t move an inch, his wrist still pressing on the book, maintaining a half-enclosed “hunting” posture, sitting there watching the prey that had wandered into the trap, cautiously sniffing, yet his face remained calm and unruffled.
The night dulled the sense of distance, amplifying all subtle feelings.
The clothes he wore were too loose on the person in front of him. The empty pant legs had brushed against his knee, yet the other was completely unaware, focused intently on studying the book’s paper.
Meng Zhizhang followed the other’s gaze, the slender fingers on the page touched the blank space near the top, then curiously moved toward the red seal, leaving a shadow of fingers crawling up the wrist holding the pen.
Meng Zhizhang’s wrist felt a slight burn, tensing slightly.
“This paper feels light, soft, and flexible, and it’s smooth, it must be expensive. Such good paper could easily be used for printing sacred texts, yet this book seems to be about seasonal farming and tool making, considered lowly crafts. If even lowly books receive such high treatment, this academy must be wealthy.”
Zhuang Yubai shared his speculation.
“This is Yan Teng paper, smooth and doesn’t blot, resistant to insects and durable. I didn’t expect Brother Amber to know about paper.” Meng Zhizhang moved his wrist slightly, “Books have no rank, sacred texts are important, but so-called lowly books have their uses too. Like decayed leaves and grass, some discard them, others use them for composting. Isn’t that right?”
Suddenly being praised, Zhuang Yubai felt a bit embarrassed: “Meng, you’re right! Even trash, when placed correctly, becomes a valuable resource.”
Zhuang Yubai spoke happily, but the robe on his shoulder suddenly slipped off, and he quickly reached to grab it. A cascade of amber hair fell, filling the room with shimmering light, splashing into Meng Zhizhang’s eyes.
The orange flame flickered higher, making the room feel hot. Meng Zhizhang stood up and opened the nearby wooden window.
The cool moonlight spilled over the desk, bringing in fresh air. Meng Zhizhang exhaled slowly in the night air.
But the voice behind him didn’t stop: “But speaking of which, this academy is so wealthy, and unlike copying scriptures for merit, why not use block printing? Printing thousands of books at once, faster and more efficient, wouldn’t that be better?”
Zhuang Yubai had seen many ancient books in museums, most were block printed, especially Song editions, where the technology was mature and costs controlled. He understood hand-copying scriptures, but a wealthy academy not using block printing seemed unreasonable.
“Are you studying at this academy?” Zhuang Yubai could only think of this reason.
“I only copy books, to earn some living expenses.”
From Meng Zhizhang, Zhuang Yubai learned a bit about Sansheng Academy. It was a renowned academy in Dongsheng Prefecture, overseeing several counties like Ping’an, Pingning, and Changning. Compared to official schools, it was unmatched in faculty, library, academic atmosphere, and reputation. Sansheng Academy had been established for over a hundred years, with nearly a hundred Hanlin scholars and countless jinshi and juren. It was said that getting into Sansheng Academy was like having one foot in the emperor’s door.
Zhuang Yubai nodded thoughtfully as he listened, seeing that Meng Zhizhang had a strong desire to attend Sansheng Academy.
Such an academy was naturally sought after by everyone, but not everyone could get in, the threshold was inevitably high. Good educational resources were always fiercely contested.
Sansheng Academy not only assessed talent and character, but also the background of the teacher, and crucially, whether the head of the academy took a liking to the student, which excluded many. Few met the criteria. But even if selected, even if exempt from tuition, living in a bustling prefecture was costly. For a poor rural scholar, it was likely just a dream.
“You must earn quite a bit copying books for them?”
Meng Zhizhang didn’t answer, instead, he got up and took out a gray money pouch from the book bag, placing it heavily on the table.
“This is the money from copying scriptures recently, a total of 360 wen. There’s still 1 tael of silver at home, and after the summer harvest, after paying taxes, there should be about 1.5 taels of income. With this book copying, after the summer harvest, there should be 3 taels of silver at home.”
Zhuang Yubai blinked his deer-like eyes, not understanding why the scholar in front of him suddenly started revealing his financial situation.
“This is the situation at home.” For the first time, there was a hint of tension in Meng Zhizhang’s eyes.
The moonlight, carrying a chill, flowed in from outside, coating the young man before him in a soft, hazy glow, like a moonlit amber, hiding an unknown dream.
For a moment, Meng Zhizhang even thought the other might vanish into the wind with the moonlight.
“Do you… still want to stay?”
Author’s Note:
*About Yan Teng Paper
An ancient famous paper. Starting from the Jin Dynasty, the area around Yanxi in Sheng County, Zhejiang, used wild vine bark to make paper, a type of bark paper. By the Tang Dynasty, places like Yuhang and Wuyuan began producing vine paper, named after its origin in Sheng County.
Zhang Hua’s “Bo Wu Zhi” from the Western Jin: “Yanxi has many ancient vines, which can be made into paper, hence the paper is named Yan Teng.” Yan Teng paper is known for being thin, light, tough, white, glossy, and smooth, not blotting ink, and durable.
Sun Yin’s “Yue Wen · Yue Paper” from the Song Dynasty: “The light shines through the gold plate” “Resistant to insects and durable.”