Chapter Forty-four,
The layout inside the room was much more refined. Inside the large reception was a young man dressed in moon-white long robes hanging his head down playing the qin. The sound of the qin was faint, like tears or grievance. The person playing the qin had a face as pale as jade with some colour of vermilion. There were a few tea tables in front of him, with two or three seated in front of the tables, all silent and not speaking, occasionally raising a teacup to lightly take a sip, then focusing on listening to the qin once again.
Xiao Zuo doubtfully looked at Fu Zhan Chuan, this fellow was that excited when he came, he even thought they were going to some place of debauchery, but did not think it was such a quiet place- Xiao Zuo could help but be a bit guilty, looks like he has wrongly blamed Fu Zhan Chuan.
Seeing them come in, a small servant waiting to the side came to welcome them, that small servant looked to be about fourteen or fifteen, the face was still a bit tender, yet was very mature when he opened his mouth, and smiled while speaking, “Sir Fu, Sir Qing Shuang is free today.”
“What are you in a daze for then, hurry and lead the way.”
Xiao Zuo and Fu Zhan Chuan followed that servant and wound around a few corridors, then stopped in front of a tranquil building.
“We’re here, I’ll go in first to let Sir know, please wait outside for a moment.”
“Naturally.” Fu Zhan Chuan merrily laughed, with a look of being very cooperative, and did not have a bit of dissatisfaction from being disdained.
Fu Zhan Chuan looked at the vacant Xiao Zuo to the side, then approached close to remind him out of goodness, “Aye, the Sir Qing Shuang I invited today is the star of this place, I had to make the reservation for a long time to be able to invite him, do wait for a bit for the beauty.”
Xiao Zuo’s face was slightly pale, he stared at the floor in a slight panic while a series of buzzing noise rose by his ears. He uncontrollably recalled the unbearable memories that night when he was tied up and sold to this kind of place, and had to use some force to bite the tip of his tongue, and once the taste of iron spread in his oral cavity, he then finally struggled out with some sliver of clarity, and watched Fu Zhan Chuan’s hand sway in front of him.
“What is it? Your face looks so terrible.”
Xiao Zuo shook his head, and squeezed out a smile, “Nothing.”
When Fu Zhan Chuan was about to say something, that long-awaited wooden door finally opened, the servant politely bowed, and said, “The sir invites the two inside.”
Fu Zhan Chuan immediately tossed Xiao Zuo aside [in his mind], then rubbed his hands and rushed inside. Xiao Zuo pouted his lips, and then followed him inside.
The inside the room was very simple, there was only a partition drawn with mountains and water, behind the partition was a small table for meeting guests, with a few small chairs placed on the side. One side was erected with a few bookshelves, the inside of the bookshelves were stuffed full, and many of the spines of the books were already worn and unravelled, it seemed that the owner often read through them. The small table was placed with red porcelain teaware, and below the table was placed with an incense stove burning incense. The incense stove was engraved into a bronze-coloured beast of luck, it lifted its face toward the sky, opened its big mouth- slivers of smoke drifted up from its big mouth, with a particular charm to it.
“Please have a seat, you two.” Xiao Zuo looked towards the sound, that person’s appearance was clear and cold, like a green lotus rinsed with water, or a thick forest of tall bamboo. No wonder he always felt this name Qing Shuang was very familiar before, wasn’t he the sir who helped him before? Such pose and air, hard to forget after a look.
“Qing Shuang’s tastes are good, to be able to organize a place like this so elegantly.” Fu Zhan Chuan merrily got close to Qing Shuang’s side and complimented him, clearly looking for something to say.
Qing Shuang lifted his hand up and steeped tea for them, the gesture of him steeping tea was extremely elegant, and clearly looked to be someone who grew up listening to the teachings in a scholarly family. The jade-white wrist rose and fell, slender yet powerful, this rite of respect[1] was used by him to its utmost, making Fu Zhan Chuan compliment with exaggeration once again.
Xiao Zuo took the tea that Qing Shuang handed to him, the fragrance of the tea greeted the nose, with a sweet aftertaste in the mouth, so he could not help but have a few more sips.
Fu Zhan Chuan beside him already grasped the type Qing Shuang admired from whether he liked eating spicy or sour foods, Xiao Zuo couldn’t find the time to interject, so he got up and walked to the front of a bookshelf.
“May I take one to read?”
Qing Shuang nodded his head when he heard, and said go ahead.
Xiao Zuo randomly took down a Jin’s Literatures[2] in the middle and flipped through it. The pages were already a bit yellowed, but the contents were written densely with small scripts, the shape of the characters were elegant, with original points of views, so Xiao Zuo could not help but read on.
“This area uses the word ‘distant’ to express the unconventional nature of the spring winds, a rather pleasant change for once.”
“To use water [as a metaphor] for sorrow might contain some displeasure for following tradition.”
Xiao Zuo looked at the neat remarks in between the lines, as though he could see a young Qing Shuang straightening his back, seriously lowering his head and dipping the ink, recording down what he thought seriously, with the tip of his nose seeping with a bit of transparent bead of sweat, but he did not feel it at all.
This handsome young man limited in the red and powdery town and soul-sucking tomb was also once a young lord of an aristocratic family who did not know of the mortal realm’s cold autumns. Each day, he would merely be irate with the homework the teacher gave, strongly speaking about his grievances within the red candlelight and curtains about the new vocabulary.
And now, he had tasted grievance in its full, no words, no words.
Xiao Zuo silently sighed, and actually felt the feeling of similarly being unfortunate[3] from a person from a southern mansion. He flipped to the cover of that book, the handwriting on top was immature, yet was still neat and square, written with the two words “Jiang Yan”.
“Yan, like the tranquility of the deep abyss. Father gave me the name Yan, probably in hopes that I would be steady and restrained, quiet and indifferent to fame.” Qing Shuang indifferently opened his mouth. His expression was calm, this fate of big ups and downs seemed to leave no traces on his body, he brushed off the body full of frost and snow just like this, and was even able to calmly sit down and make a cup of tea.
Fu Zhan Chuan who sat lazily like he had no bones in his body and was anxious to stick on Qing Shuang’s body, turning into water melting in his arms sat up straight at this time, his features turned profound, and suddenly had a kind of unapproachable cold air. Xiao Zuo closed that book, put it back into the bookshelf, then Fu Zhan Chuan glanced at him and opened his mouth, “Have you made a decision?”
Xiao Zuo froze for a bit, Qing Shuang lifted the teacup to his lips and took a sip, “Pleasure working with you.”