Chapter 135
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The wind slipped through the cracks in the window, making the oil lamp sway gently. On the unfolded letter, the brushstrokes were sharp as blades.
To my esteemed brother Kaiming:
Chongwen has been unwell recently. I fear I will be unable to attend the literary gathering in Chang’an this autumn. Thus, I pen this letter myself and have it delivered to your residence, as a token of my regret.
Beneath the lamplight, the paper unfolded in his hand. The man reading the letter appeared to be in his early thirties, with refined features and a neatly trimmed beard. Upon reading this opening line, a smile tugged at his lips.
“Chongwen is truly a sincere gentleman…”
His gaze lowered, and he continued reading word by word.
…Brother, have you heard of a man named Lu Liangsheng from Southern Chen? Before writing this letter to you, I chanced upon him while visiting the Shunyuan household. I found him to be gentle, cultured, kind-hearted, and deeply learned—an uncommon combination. When I was beset by a cunning ambush and nearly met with misfortune, it was Lu Liangsheng who came to my rescue and saved my life.
Yet this man is no mere wandering charlatan.
I heard he was once a newly appointed tribute scholar of Southern Chen, but on the golden steps of the imperial hall, he suffered disgrace at the hands of a foolish sovereign. In a rage, he drove a giant to smash the golden hall and departed for the northern lands. Whether he now wanders in search of a wise lord or seeks detachment from worldly affairs, none can say.
Brother Kaiming, you and I are both scholars. Shouldn’t we offer our support when we recognize brilliance in another?
I cannot bear to see one so gifted in both learning and Daoism languish in obscurity. Thus, I write shamelessly to you. Knowing well your close ties with the Young Lord, I hope you might speak favorably of him and offer a recommendation…
“A tribute scholar of Southern Chen… Lu Liangsheng? Hah… so happens we share the same surname.”
Lu Kaiming glanced over the letter again. Toward the end, it mentioned that the man had traveled through Northern Zhou, heading toward Chaoning Prefecture, and that he might visit Chang’an to see the capital of Northern Zhou in the future.
“Heh… Chongwen won’t be coming, yet he dares to ask for such a favor. Still, Young Master Yang does have a fondness for scholars and men of refinement—no harm in bringing it up.”
Chuckling and shaking his head, he put the letter away and blew out the lamp.
Early the next morning, Lu Kaiming bathed, changed into fresh robes, and left the house, stepping into his carriage.
“To the Grand Chancellor’s residence.”
With a word to the driver, the carriage wheels began to turn. The carriage made its way down the avenue lined with the residences of the high officials. Just as it arrived at the side gate of the Grand Chancellor’s estate, another man came from the opposite direction.
The two stepped down from their carriages and clasped hands in greeting.
“Brother Kaiming!”
“Brother Cheng!”
After exchanging a few pleasantries, the two entered through the side gate together. This residence belonged to none other than the current Grand Chancellor, Yang Jian. Since neither of the two held any official position, and were only personally acquainted with the Grand Chancellor’s eldest son, Yang Yong, they could only enter through the side courtyard’s smaller gate.
As they walked beneath the eaves of the corridor, laughter and lively conversation from the main hall of the northern wing could already be heard from afar. When Lu Kaiming approached, the hall was already filled with a gathering of scholars, engaging in discussions on current affairs, quoting from the classics, and debating points of contention.
Lu Kaiming skirted around to the side and casually found a seat. A maidservant brought over some tea. The warmth and subtle fragrance of the brew rose to meet his lips and nose. He looked out toward the courtyard—sunlight filtered through thick clusters of leaves, and a summer cicada that had just emerged from the earth was slowly climbing up the moss-covered trunk of a tree.
Before long, a figure strode confidently toward the hall, and upon turning in through the doorway, spotted a scholar of middle years seated near the entrance. The man smiled and waved his hand, signaling him not to stand on ceremony.
“Sit.”
Lu Kaiming had just risen to pay his respects, but with that wave, he could only obey and sit back down.
“Lu Kaiming greets the Young Lord. Greets Master Ming.”
Following behind Yang Yong was an elder named Ming Kerang. He was in his sixties, his long robe lending him a scholarly elegance. It was said he was a surviving minister of the former dynasty, well-versed in the rites and the classics, as well as augury and the study of celestial patterns.
The old man gave him a slight nod without speaking further and walked directly into the gathering. The assembled scholars and talents quickly rose to salute him, each holding their recent works in hopes of receiving his comments and comparisons.
“Kaiming, why don’t you go over?”
Yang Yong glanced at the bustling scene on that side of the hall. Accepting the teacup offered by a maidservant, he sat beside Lu Kaiming and gently blew across the floating tea leaves.
“By the way, someone sent me a famous painting from Chaoning Prefecture yesterday. Perfect timing—we can all have a look and appreciate it together.”
After taking a sip of tea, he clapped his palm twice.
A waiting servant at the doorway entered, carrying a long tray. The conversations in the hall came to a halt as everyone turned to watch. When the red silk covering the tray was lifted, it revealed a carefully mounted landscape painting—a brushwork filled with sentiment and feeling.
The crowd leaned in to observe, murmuring their comments to one another.
“A lone sail on the Long River, drifting eastward in the morning sun—what a marvelous scene!” “…If you ask me, it’s that breeze in the forested mountains that holds the true mood! Did you notice the direction the leaves are fluttering? It’s in the subtle details that true mastery is revealed!”
“Not bad at all. In the depths of the forest, you can even spot the shadow of a monkey. The painter’s skill is truly exceptional.”
Yang Yong, fond of literature and gifted in composing verses and odes, was not particularly versed in the arts of painting and calligraphy. It was only by letting the others critique this newly acquired piece that he came to appreciate its worth—worthy indeed of being displayed in his main chamber as a sign of elegance, far better than being tossed aside to gather dust in a corner.
“Is it really as good as you all say?”
Lu Kaiming had also observed the piece for a while and nodded. “This painting must surely be the work of a true master.”
Just then, someone noticed the signature in the lower corner of the scroll.
“Lu Liangsheng… That name doesn’t sound familiar. Anyone know him?”
“Hmm? Why does that name sound vaguely familiar?”
At the mention of ‘Lu Liangsheng’, Lu Kaiming froze for a moment. Beside him, the Grand Chancellor’s eldest son turned his head, about to ask something, but upon seeing that expression, he chuckled. “This man bears the same surname—could he be a cousin of yours, Kaiming?”
“That he is not.”
Lu Kaiming quickly cupped his hands in apology. Noticing a few glances cast his way, he smiled faintly to mask his earlier embarrassment.
“Hearing that name just now took me by surprise. Last night I received a letter from Wang Chongwen of Shunyuan, which happened to mention a scholar from Southern Chen by the name of Lu Liangsheng.”
He had originally wondered how best to make a recommendation. Now, the opportunity had presented itself perfectly. Gathering his thoughts, Lu Kaiming continued:
“Gentlemen, have you heard of the recent affair in Southern Chen? That decadent, pleasure-seeking emperor down south publicly humiliated a tribute scholar in court—so much so that the Golden Throne Hall was smashed!”
The gathered scholars exchanged surprised looks. One of them tentatively asked: “You don’t mean this Lu Liangsheng?”
“Precisely!”
Lu Kaiming replied, his gaze shifting to the Young Lord. He offered a slight bow as he continued: “Wang Chongwen mentioned in his letter that this man possesses exceptional learning and is also well-versed in the arcane arts concerning spirits and deities. When he smashed the throne hall, it was said a giant held up a wine urn and brought it crashing down in fury—nearly the whole city knew of it. The Southern Chen emperor was utterly humiliated!”
Hahaha—!
Everyone present was a Northern Zhou scholar, their temperaments unrestrained and proud. Hearing that a southern foreign court had suffered disgrace, they all burst into hearty laughter.
Even the usually solemn Ming Kerang couldn’t help but curve his lips into a faint smile. Stroking his snow-white beard, he turned to look at the Young Lord.
“Whether the rumors are true or not, that we shall see. But if the man is indeed learned, then why not take him in, Young Lord? Even if he cannot serve the court officially, having the Grand Chancellor known for recruiting men of talent would be commendable in its own right.”
The two shared the bond of both mentor and friend, so Yang Yong naturally wouldn’t refuse something that could be of help to his father.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking. My father’s cousin, Yang Su, is a master of martial arts and Daoist methods, and he’s even more proficient in military affairs—truly a man of both letters and arms. If we could recruit another worthy expert to assist, it would be like adding wings to a tiger.”
The surrounding scholars and refined guests all voiced their agreement.
“The Young Lord speaks rightly.” “Indeed, with such talent under his banner, surely the Grand Chancellor will value the Young Lord all the more!”
“Haha! The Grand Chancellor’s fame rises by the day!”
Amidst the overlapping chatter, a small face peeked out from the side of the hall door. Glancing in, the boy seized his chance while everyone was busy talking—he darted in, grabbed the mounted painting, and began dragging it along the ground as he bolted outside.
The servants, recognizing the boy’s identity, dared not stop him. Yang Yong, realizing what had happened, lifted his robes and gave chase.
“Ah Chuang! Put that painting down!”
Hearing his name shouted, the boy only ran faster, dragging the mounted scroll behind him. Making a sharp turn into the central courtyard, he looked back at his pursuer and burst out laughing.
“Yang Yong, Yang Yong! All courage and no brains!”
“You—!”
Furious, Yang Yong stomped his foot and roared, “Yang Guang!! Stop right there or I’ll beat your butt to pieces!!”
He veered off into the flowerbeds and grass, trying to cut the boy off by taking a shortcut. The chase caused maids and servants to scatter in panic, sending chickens flapping and dogs barking in all directions.
At the far end of the covered corridor, two imposing figures strode toward them, walking with a commanding presence. They had been in conversation but were interrupted by the commotion. The man in front suddenly bellowed: “What kind of disgraceful conduct is this from your younger brother!”
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