“Not possible?”
Zhuang Yubai was taken aback. Clearly, the person in front of him wasn’t the kind-hearted pushover he had hoped for.
He lay on the pillow, rubbing his tear-streaked face against the corner of the blanket, choosing not to continue wailing. Playing the weakling wasn’t working; not everyone falls for the green tea act. It seemed he needed a different approach.
“Are you worried that your family is poor and your business small, unable to support two people?”
Zhuang Yubai began his analysis, carefully observing the other person’s reaction. Seeing no rebuttal, he quickly continued, “I can help you make money, just let me have a roof over my head.”
Zhuang Yubai tried to sound as refined as possible, hoping to convince the other person that he was a well-educated and decent individual.
Sure enough, the mention of money seemed to soften the other person’s stance. A glance, light yet significant, was cast from the other side of the desk, though the pen in hand didn’t stop moving.
Zhuang Yubai instinctively licked his lips.
Thankfully, this wasn’t one of those stubborn scholars who would rather die than bend for five bushels of rice. Being flexible was good. Flexibility meant opportunity.
“You, sir, are a scholar. Climbing the ranks of the imperial examination must require a lot of silver. And I happen to have some money-making skills. If we join forces, wouldn’t it be mutually beneficial, a win-win situation?” Zhuang Yubai, in his excitement, tried to sit up, but his hands and feet were tied, so he fell back onto the pillow. “We are brothers by fate, not by blood. Today, I stumbled into… into your home. It must be destiny.”
The other person didn’t seem inclined to untie him, but it was clear they were listening.
Worried that the other person might say something disheartening, Zhuang Yubai quickly added, “How about this: 100 wen for a month, and I’ll repay you tenfold?”
If he wanted to be taken in, he had to offer something tempting.
“You’ve read books?” Meng Zhizhang didn’t take the bait about the money.
“I’ve read a few books, know a few characters.”
The gaze from the other side of the desk decisively withdrew, and after a moment, he said, “Sleep.”
Zhuang Yubai was overjoyed, his eyes sparkling, and his voice rose, “You’re agreeing to take me in!”
Meng Zhizhang’s voice was steady, neither joyful nor angry, “I don’t make decisions in the middle of the night.”
*
“Chirp—”
A clear bird call came from outside the window, followed by a chorus of chirping birds. The neighbor’s rooster also began to crow. The air was vast and distant.
Meng Zhizhang lifted his head from the desk. The morning light was a deep blue, filtering through the window.
He finished copying the scriptures in his hand. Wu Yuanwai in the city was celebrating his mother’s birthday and had hired someone to copy scriptures. Meng Zhizhang got the “Diamond Sutra,” a total of 5,176 characters. He copied it in his spare time from studying, earning a few dozen wen a day to supplement the household.
Meng Zhizhang put away the paper and pen, got up, and extinguished the lamp.
He removed his outer robe from his broad shoulders, revealing a layer of fine linen undergarments that clung to his firm, muscular frame.
The unexpected guest on the bed was still sound asleep. As Meng Zhizhang walked past, he glanced over unintentionally.
It was the second quarter of the hour of the rabbit, his time for martial arts practice, come rain or shine.
With bamboo as his sword and shadows as his companions, he moved fluidly in the cool morning breeze. His swordsmanship was sharp, his posture agile and resilient, like a young dragon hidden in the depths, growing more vigorous.
Before long, the sun broke through the clouds over the gray thatched courtyard, scattering golden light like fragments.
Meng Zhizhang regulated his breathing, took out a fine linen handkerchief, and wiped the sweat from his forehead. His gaze swept past the door and suddenly froze.
A few pieces of clothing were haphazardly piled behind the door.
A corner of white silk was stained with… mud and blood.
Meng Zhizhang looked towards the bed, and with just one glance, his heart skipped a beat.
A few slanting rays of sunlight crept up the head of the bed, where the person lay with hair cascading like a waterfall, amber in the light, like smoke or mist. Amber…
Meng Zhizhang’s eyes darkened, and he hurriedly took a few steps closer. The person in the dream was still sound asleep, breathing evenly.
He leaned in, seemingly eager to confirm something on the other’s face.
On the fair, translucent cheek, the brows were slightly furrowed, the lashes fluttering lightly. Beside the left eye, a faint red mole like a petal of a begonia flower, fallen in the snow on a mountain, seemed like an unintentional stroke of nature, yet it made the person look both pitiful and endearing, touching the heart.
But this amber hair, the red mole…
Meng Zhizhang’s eyes were turbulent as he stood by the bed, staring at the person before him.
A coincidence? Could there really be such a coincidence in the world?
After an unknown amount of time, he tucked the blanket around the person on the bed, picked up the blood-stained clothes from the floor, and quietly left the room.
*
Zhuang Yubai’s emotions last night had swung from great sorrow to slight joy, leaving him exhausted. Once he was sure he wouldn’t die, he quickly fell asleep.
After a deep, sweet sleep, when he opened his eyes again, a strikingly handsome face appeared before him.
Smooth as porcelain, with a high nose bridge, and eyes full of spirit. This face seemed familiar…
Zhuang Yubai was a bit dazed. He blinked hard, trying to regain his senses.
Sunlight formed a warm halo around the other’s neck, occasionally falling on his face as the other moved.
Zhuang Yubai squinted slightly, his dark lashes catching the morning light, the spots of light dancing.
The person before him looked a bit like the owner of the house, the noble young man from last night.
“Awake?” The noble young man gently nudged his shoulder, “Get up and eat.”
His tone was much softer, a stark contrast to the cold, unapproachable demeanor of the black panther from last night.
Zhuang Yubai sat up, realizing the ropes binding him had been removed at some point.
Before leaving, Meng Zhizhang had placed a neatly folded set of clothes on the dark brown wooden cabinet by the bed for Zhuang Yubai.
Zhuang Yubai didn’t stand on ceremony, got up, and put them on. It was a set of dark blue, slightly worn short clothes, with a sash of light green fabric around the waist.
Thanks to the sash, as the other person was taller and more robust than him, Zhuang Yubai wore the clothes like a long robe. He tightened the sash and stepped into the courtyard.
The sunlit courtyard was neat and tidy, simple yet refreshing. Though not empty, apart from a pomegranate tree near the wall, there were only a few simple household items.
The pomegranate flowers were in full bloom, bright red dots covering the tree, adding a lively touch to the morning. The clothes Zhuang Yubai had changed out of last night were neatly hung on a clothesline by the tree.
His clothes had been washed, indicating he was meant to stay.
Feeling reassured, Zhuang Yubai used the soapberry juice prepared by the owner to rinse his mouth, scooped a handful of cool water from the basin, and washed away the laziness of the previous night.
While he was washing up, breakfast was ready. A wooden table, two small stools, and a few dishes were scattered on the table.
Meng Zhizhang, in a white long robe, stood spiritedly against the backdrop of the pomegranate flowers and leaves, waiting for Zhuang Yubai to come over for breakfast. A beam of sunlight fell on his plain robe sleeve, making him look even more radiant.
Perhaps it was because he had never seen a living version of an ancient handsome man, Zhuang Yubai had to admit that for a moment, he felt a bit embarrassed by the gaze directed at him.
Zhuang Yubai cleared his throat, tugged at his clothes, straightened his back, and walked over to take a seat.
On the table was a small plate of golden sesame oil-fried eggs, accompanied by a dish of finely chopped green leafy vegetables, fresh in color and appetizing. The main course was yesterday’s pancakes, stacked in threes, white, round, and soft, with a strong wheat aroma.
His stomach growled impatiently, and Zhuang Yubai couldn’t wait to grab a pancake. Freshly made, it was warm and soft, and the simple satisfaction from the food was enough to soothe all minor frustrations.
The green leafy vegetables tasted like bok choy, crisp and juicy, coated with a thin layer of sauce, tangy and refreshing, very appetizing.
The fried eggs were soft and fragrant, tender and flavorful, complementing the wheat aroma of the pancakes, bringing the purest sense of satisfaction and security to a person.
“Apologies for the humble meal, please bear with it,” Meng Zhizhang sat upright, his gaze sincere.
Zhuang Yubai had thoroughly explored the house inside and out yesterday, so he understood that this was probably the best meal the person before him could offer this morning. It might even have been borrowed from the neighbors.
“This food is delicious! Your cooking skills are amazing!” Zhuang Yubai was grateful and appreciative, giving a big thumbs up. He chewed the pancake a couple more times before realizing the other person hadn’t set a bowl or chopsticks for himself, “Why aren’t you eating?”
“I’ve already eaten.” Meng Zhizhang nodded slightly, accepting the compliment, then looked at him with some curiosity, “Are you from Pingning Prefecture?”
Zhuang Yubai was not from Pingning Prefecture, but he had hastily claimed to be fleeing from there, leading the person before him to mistakenly believe he was from the flood-stricken area.
If he told the truth about surviving a river sacrifice, normal people would be afraid of trouble and wouldn’t dare take him in.
In fact, after falling into the water yesterday, the original owner’s memories had started to blur. Coupled with the subsequent series of shocks, when Zhuang Yubai woke up this morning, he only remembered that the original owner shared his name and had been sacrificed by his family, mistreated by a stepmother.
As for other memories, they were like flowers in the mist, reaching out to grasp them only for them to vanish.
Zhuang Yubai put down his bowl and chopsticks, frowning and lowering his head, “To be honest… I don’t quite remember where I’m from, as I was pulled from the river yesterday.”
He didn’t want to lie, nor did he plan to tell the whole truth.
“What’s your name?” Seeing him reach for the chopsticks, Meng Zhizhang helped by pushing the dish of greens closer to him.
Zhuang Yubai picked up a piece of green vegetable and slowly ate it. It was understandable that a stranger seeking refuge would need to be questioned about their background. But he couldn’t even reveal his name. If his harsh stepmother found him here, it would all be for nothing.
Zhuang Yubai brought the chopsticks to his mouth, biting halfway before realizing they were empty.
He instinctively looked at Meng Zhizhang, who didn’t seem to mind the awkward moment, but appeared quite interested in his hair, glancing at it occasionally.
His hair had never been dark since childhood, and now, after crossing over, even the original owner’s hair was light.
“Amber…” Zhuang Yubai glanced at his hair following the other’s gaze, blurting out a made-up name, though with a hint of uncertainty. He reached for the fried eggs with the empty chopsticks, “…I think that’s what I’m called.”
“Amber?!”
Meng Zhizhang’s firm lips twitched slightly.
Author’s Note:
We are brothers by fate, not by blood. — Wei Jin · Tao Yuanming “Miscellaneous Poems Twelve · Part One”