CH 6

“Long have we known each other in dreams, might we meet now in the mortal dust?” 

Writing on jasmine paper with his Huzhou brush and wocan ink, Xie Yilu asked as much in his next letter. Yet a full three days passed without reply; that person was like the last glint of starlight across the eastern mountaintops, flashing brightly for an instant before disappearing from sight. 

What sort of person could he be? Xie Yilu could not help but wonder. A scholar? A scholar-merchant1? Or… an official like myself? His heart was filled with an indescribable curiosity, the kind that left one thrumming with the excitement of a groom imagining his new bride’s countenance beneath her red wedding veil. But if it were so, then why was that person unwilling to meet him?

Or could it be… Xie Yilu flushed red in an instant. Could it be that ‘he’ is actually a woman? A young lady from a wealthy family, a beauty of the rouge and powder2? Fear crept into his heart — fear that she might be an unmarried maiden and that he might be charged with maintaining an illicit liaison with her3. Yet it seemed unlikely judging by the calligraphy, since no women of the boudoir could write with such a strong and unyielding style. Surely ‘she’ can’t be… a prostitute? 

Xie Yilu was suddenly seized with panic. He never had any private interactions with prostitutes outside of the social gatherings that were ubiquitous in the officialdom. He believed himself to be pure and upright — how could he afford to stumble now at the feet of this ‘confidante of the fairer sex’? All this talk of prostitutes reminded him of the Pearl Market north of Qiandao Bridge, of the teetering woman’s palanquin and of Ruan Dian. That’s right, eunuchs are frequent patrons of prostitutes. Not a single prostitute is innocent. 

Xie Yilu pinched himself, hard. How could he have just compared that person with eunuchs? That was nothing less than absolute slander to their character, akin to dripping foetid ink into a bowl of pure water, sullying it.  

“Chunchu… Chunchu!”  Qu Feng called from beside him, abruptly pulling Xie Yilu’s mind from the absurd images that his imagination had conjured. The incense stick he was holding had almost burned to its root so he dropped it and shook out his sleeves.  

The two of them were standing on the side of the road that wound up the mountain to Zhebo Chan Temple.  Since it was the fifteenth, the road was bustling with even more pilgrims on their way to worship the Buddha than usual. 

“Whatcha thinking about?”  Qu Feng asked with a suggestive expression. “You haven’t been here for long and already have a lover?”  

Xie Yilu’s heart twinged with guilt for no reason. “What are you talking about…” He shook the hems of his official’s robe and leaned in to Qu Feng. “Um… is there anyone in Nanjing famous for their calligraphy?” 

“Yeah there are. Both Zha Yongtu from the Ministry of Rites and Liang Ke from the Youshan Academy can be considered master calligraphers.” Qu Feng pointed towards the mountain’s summit, indicating that they should continue ascending. “Why are you asking about this all of a sudden?” 

Xie Yilu followed him upwards. “Ah… just asking.” 

“Oh right, I’ve heard that there’s someone else,” Qu Feng flipped open his folding fan, looking as if he had a rare tidbit to share. “It’s…” just as he was about to speak, the pilgrims in front of them erupted in shouts and the road was blocked by people waving their fists while complaining angrily. 

They went up to have a look at the commotion, but the road grew more and more crowded as they walked. Once they reached the little mountain gate, they saw that it was because monks from the temple had sealed off the road, stopping everyone five hundred steps from the Main Hall4 of the temple. Xie Yilu and Qu Feng looked at each other, both recognising that this signalled the presence of someone important. They continued forwards tactfully, but had barely taken two steps before a group of people burst out from below. Their leader was stern-faced and wore a flying fish robe — it was Tu Yue. 

Tu Yue was no ordinary man, and he easily spotted Xie Yilu as his glaze flitted over the sea of people. Yet, he pretended not to have seen him and had two fanzi5 clear his path while he slowly walked up behind them with eyebrows raised. 

Seeing that the newcomer was a Brocade Uniform Guard, the monk in charge came over very respectfully. He tried to whisper an explanation into Tu Yue’s ear but was pushed away by the leading fanzi, who berated ostentatiously, “Battalion Commander Tu of the Brocade Uniform Guards has come to bring donations to the temple on behalf of the Grand Defender of Nanjing. Get out of our way!” 

The bustling mountain road immediately fell silent. It was only then that one could hear the sounds of chanting coming from the Main Hall as they held their Nirvana Dharma Assembly6: the Buddha said to Ānanda7 that in the past, there was a golden peacock king who lived on the southern face of the snow-capped mountain, who chanted the Buddha-Mother Mahamayuri8 Dharani9 each morning… 

It was the《Peacock Sutra10》— the common people, devout of heart, all grew solemn, but the same could not be said for Tu Yue’s men, who, holding no reverence whatsoever, repeatedly tapped the stone ground with tips of their sabres: “Get out of the way! Are you deaf?” 

The monk in charge neither moved nor answered. Growing impatient, Tu Yue unwound the nanmu11 prayer beads from his wrist and used it to dust off his mamian skirt12 as he asked, very lazily and indifferently, “Who’s inside?” 

The monk put his hands together and said, “Benefactor Liao from the Imperial Weaving Bureau.” 

The hand that had been dusting Tu Yue’s robe stilled and he fell silent for a moment before saying in a casual, gossipy tone, “They’re both fourth-ranked. Why is it that the one from the Imperial Weaving Bureau can come, but the Nanjing Grand Defender can’t?  What is Zhebo Chan Temple trying to say?” 

So now he’s about to invent a crime to charge the monks with. Xie Yilu swallowed involuntarily. Two grand chamberlains as high-ranking as a Grand Defender and an Imperial Weaving Superintendent facing off in public was a rare sight in Beijing, let alone Nanjing.  

The monk had no answer to give and Tu Yue was about to cause further trouble for him when one of the doors to the Main Hall opened. Two people strolled out and closed the door behind them. Even though they were so far away, Xie Yilu immediately recognised that it was A-Liu on the left and Zhang Cai on the right. They were dressed in white yisan with lion and parrot buzi while ivory tablets13 hung from their waists. 

Zhang Cai took a step forward to stand at the top of the stone stairs. His head injury had yet to heal — he was wearing a sprig of haitang blooms at his temple to cover up the newly formed scar. “Who is making such noise?” His voice was very loud as he simultaneously kicked up the hem of his yisan and pulled it up to the crook of his arm, affecting a domineering posture. 

Tu Yue stretched out his neck and tilted his head arrogantly. He and his subordinates were so conspicuous that Zhang Cai could not have missed them. 

“Who is making such noise?” Zhang Cai asked again, stretching each word out in emphasis. 

Tu Yue only saw him as a child so he smiled tepidly in reply, but Zhang Cai lowered his gaze and glared sinisterly at him. A-Liu rolled his eyes and wanted to go down with his sabre, but Zhang Cai held him back with a hand against his chest. He then yelled sharply at Tu Yue, “I asked, who is making such noise?” 

Tu Yue’s eyes hardened and he stared back belligerently. “Brocade Uniform Guard, Tu Yue!” 

Zhang Cai’s smile was like that of a real child as he replied, “So it’s Your Excellency Tu.” He cupped his fists casually. “Forgive my offence.” 

Tu Yue wanted to use this apology as a stepping stone to ascend the stairs himself, but the monk in charge blocked his path again. Tu Yue erupted in fury. “What is the Imperial Weaving Bureau trying to do?!” 

The smile on Zhang Cai’s face never waivered. “We’re not trying to do anything.” He began to circle purposefully atop the stone stairs. “Our Lord Supervisor is meditating in the hall, so I must ask Your Excellency Tu to wait here awhile.” 

“Ridiculous!” With a shake of Tu Yue’s hand, his subordinates immediately rushed out from behind, pushing past the monk’s attempts to stop them as they ran forwards. Then, a boom sounded as a group of people armed with sabres rushed out from the Mañjuśrī Hall14 and Samantabhadra Hall15 on either side of the Main Hall. They were all white-dressed eunuchs and they flowed down the stone stairs like a stream of water until they stood face to face with the fanzi and the Brocade Uniform Guard. 

It was Liao Jixiang’s Unsullied Army16! It was said that Liao Jixiang had brought back a squad of a few dozen eunuchs from Gansu, and that they had killed dazi17, spilt blood and snatched back their lives from the jaws of death. 

Tu Yue and his subordinates stopped moving and cautiously, even fearfully, began to retreat. A loud bang sounded from the Main Hall, startling the crowd gathered below. They all followed the source of the sound and looked up to find that it was because Ruan Dian had slammed the door open as he stepped outside. He took a look at the face-off and broke into a laugh. “You’ve all gotten into formation so I thought something big was happening,” he cackled wildly, “but it turns out that it’s Battalion Commander Tu!” 

He crouched down on the spot, swaying back and forth on the highest of the stone steps like a rascal. “Zhang Cai, there’s so few of them. Don’t you feel a little… ashamed to toy with them like this?” 

Though his words were directed at Zhang Cai, it was Tu Yue who was embarrassed — really, there was nothing more humiliating than this. He stepped backwards, his face blue with mortification, but just as he retreated into the crowd, someone from behind yelled loudly, “Those in front, make way!” 

Turning around, he saw a group of white-dressed eunuchs coming up the path one by one. They each held a gold-inlaid bronze tray upon which silver bullions18, each weighing ten taels, were stacked into an offering tower. Their leader was Jin Tang, who tilted his head as he passed by Tue Yue, his pair of phoenix eyes sparkling with a glimmer of derision. “Your Excellency Tu,” he shot a look at Tu Yue’s empty hands, “are you here to make offerings too?” 

Tu Yue’s face instantly flushed red. He did not bring much with him — only five silver notes19 worth a hundred taels each. He was the one who paid Zheng Xian’s annual donations and five hundred taels was the most he could offer.  

“Weina,” Jin Tang called out respectfully to the monk in charge. “Invite His Excellecny Tu to the meditation hall I often use. Serve him a cup of hot tea and find a few children who can make good conversation to keep him company.” 

Though his words were kind, the meaning hidden within was not. Tu Yue’s face went from blue to white to blue again and, gritting his teeth, left with a shake of his sleeve. At this exact time, someone among the pilgrims shouted, “It’s not silver on those trays, it’s the people’s pygmy pear trees!”.  

Tu Yue abruptly froze, wide-eyed and tongue-tied like everyone else present. He turned around to see that everyone was staring sidelong at a tall and gentle-featured man — it was Xie Yilu from Beijing. 

While Xie Yilu was unperturbed, Qu Feng beside him was terrified, so much so that he did not even dare to stretch out a hand to pull on him. Atop the stone stairs, Ruan Dian’s mouth was hanging open as he slowly stood up. Just as he was about to bark some harsh words, a delicate, almost ethereal voice came from inside and said coldly, “Open the door.” 

The sounds of chanting stopped. A single vermillion willow-leaf lattice20 door opened. Sunlight spilt into the shadowy Main Hall, illuminating a square cun21 of ground before the Buddha. Someone was kneeling there, dressed in a white, narrow-sleeved robe. Though his body was bowed over, he had turned his head to gaze over his shoulder towards the outside. A glittering sea of golden lamps and burning incense shone above him, and higher still loomed the unmoving, benevolent face of the Shakyamuri Buddha22. 

Xie Yilu was struck speechless in an instant. This person had an aura to him that was wholly unlike the menacing Unsullied Army on the stone stairs or the silver stacked high atop the trays. It was not the arrogance of high station and power, but rather a serenity that had settled and accumulated in his very bones. 

Is this Liao Jixiang? Xie Yilu was shocked. He was so different from Zheng Xian — Zheng Xian was a worldly creature, his whole being exuding a deeply human extravagance and radiance, but he was so cold, so sombre that he could only be a ghost or an immortal.

A tall figure whom Xie Yilu recognised as Yishiha bent down to hold Liao Xijiang’s hand and carefully pulled him from the prayer mat. This grand chamberlain was so thin, which, combined with his upright and cultured appearance, meant that his bearing should have been like a stalk of bamboo or an unbending spear. Yet, as soon as he took the smallest of steps, it was to everyone’s disappointment — he limped on one leg as he walked. Liao Jixiang was a cripple. 

“Lord Supervisor!” All the white-dressed eunuchs dropped to their knees in perfect unison. Their movements were too well-trained to be appropriate for eunuchs of the Imperial Weaving Bureau — they were even better trained than the garrison army. 

Liao Xijiang was lame in his left leg. It appeared that he had injured his knee so he could not put any weight onto it. Yishiha hovered protectively over him as if he were shielding a delicate maiden. Xie Yilu was surprised at Liao Jixiang’s stature — his waist was so slender it seemed like one hand was enough to both hold it and break it. He was wearing a qilin23 buzi and his slender, petite face was as white as snow while his features were exceedingly delicate. 

He was still some distance away, but Xie Yilu could already smell a faint trace of sandalwood that had been carried to him by the spring wind. A leafy fragrance was mixed into the scent, as well as, if one paid close attention to it, the sweet aroma of cow’s milk. 

Yishiha hurriedly supported him to walk down the stairs. Liao Jixiang looked down at the crowd from his position atop the stairs, his eyes sparkling with intelligence under thin double eyelids, his lips like those oft seen on Buddha statues, not quite enough to be called ‘beautiful’ but certainly plump and smooth. He silently took in Xie Yilu and asked, “Name?”

Xie Yilu had never stared into the face of power so closely before, so he could not help but be held spellbound.

“What is your name?” Yishiha pressed. Xie Yilu’s cheeks flushed and he tripped over his tongue as he replied. Liao Jixiang’s indifferent face was devoid of any expressions. Jin Tang, Ruan Dian and A-Liu all stared at him unblinkingly, waiting for his orders. 

“Ruan Dian,” Liao Jixiang finally turned his head to the side and chose this subordinate from Annan, “have you remembered the name?” 

Oh, how to describe Ruan Dian’s expression? It was like that of a vicious hound, accustomed to brawling outside, now showing its belly before its owner and wagging its tail profusely in happiness. “I’ve remembered it!”

Liao Jixiang coughed and placed his hand atop Yishiha’s. Seeing this, A-Liu immediately rushed down to clear the way for him, the civilians all avoiding him like the plague to leave path through the crowd. Atop the stone stairs, Yishiha had crouched down and was now carrying Liao Jixiang on his back as if he weighed no more than a feather. 

The eunuchs from the Imperial Weaving Bureau withdrew in small groups as the pilgrims passing through the little mountain gate mumbled their dissatisfaction. Amidst all the derision and insults, Xie Yily heard Qu Feng say, “Don’t leave your house for the next two days.” 

“It can’t be that bad,” he forced a smile, trying to appear unworried. “The worst they can do is exile me to Liaodong24.” 

Qu Feng gave him a hard tug, his pair of beautiful peach blossom eyes staring at him angrily. “It was Ruan Dian that he called!” 

Xie Yilu did not understand what he meant. Qu Feng was silent at first, but then he finally sighed: “If he had called Jin Tang, you could’ve escaped with your life…” 

Xie Yilu understood now — he would have been stupid not to. He was silent for a moment and then said, “Let him come. I’m waiting.” 

Hearing this, Qu Feng refrained from replying. 

Xie Yilu split up from Qu Feng when they returned from Zhebo Chan Temple and hurried to Lingfu Temple. Once there, he searched the stone lantern inside out but failed to find anything. The other person did not want to see him. Lifting his empty hands, he sat down dejectedly in the freshly-grown grass. Lonely and perhaps also a little disgruntled, he let his head hang heavily against his chest. 

When he dragged his mud-covered backside home, he dived into this study to lay out paper and grind ink. Rolling up his sleeves, he made several attempts to start writing but each time his hand stopped of its own accord. Suddenly, a teardrop fell onto the paper. Wiping hard at his eyes, he hurriedly wrote down: 

Life or death, honour or disgrace, can change in but a day’s time. 

My soul misses, my dreams yearn, these are the only thoughts of mine. 

There’s no history to discuss for this update so I’ll only give a quick explanation of my translation of Buddhist terminology.

I’ve elected to translate every Buddhist name and term into Romanised Sanskrit rather than directly translating them from Chinese or keeping them in pinyin. This is because A) Romanised Sanskrit is the norm for Buddhist terminology in English, and B) Chinese renditions of many names and terms are very different to their original Sanskrit versions.

By consistently using Romanised Sanskrit, I hope that it will be easier for anyone who might want to search up any terms and avoid confusion as much as possible.

1.  儒商, the idealised merchant who follows the teachings of Confucius. He is virtuous, responsible, cultured and strives to improve the world through business. Very high praise coming from a society that constantly looks down on merchants. 

2. 红粉, literally “rouge and powder”, figuratively “the fairer sex”.

3. 私通, a concept that is difficult to explain. Chinese society was heavily segregated by sex, so it was very taboo for an unmarried girl to have any contact with a male outside of her immediate family. Any sort of contact might be enough for both parties to be charged with “ having an illicit liaison”, which would ruin their reputations and lives. 

4. 大雄宝殿, literally “Precious Hall of the Great Hero”. It is usually known as the ‘Main Hall’ of a Chinese Buddhist temple and it worships the Gautama Buddha. 

5. 番子, a colloquial term for civilians pressed into service with the Five Cities Wardens Office (五成兵马司). They often serve with the Brocade Uniform Guard, but they are not actually part of the Guard itself. 

6. 涅槃法会, a Buddhist religious assembly held on Nirvana Day, which is usually celebrated on the 15th of the second lunar month. 

7. 阿难陀, the primary attendant of the Buddha and one of this 10 principal disciples. 

8. 孔雀明王, literally “Peacock Wisdom King”. The Chinese name for the female Bodhisattva and Wisdom King, Mahamayuri. 

9. 陀罗尼, a type of Buddhist chant, usually a mantra consisting of Sanskrit or Pali phrases. 

10. 孔雀经, a commentary on the《佛母大孔雀明王经》(Buddha-Mother Grand Mahamayuri Sutra) by Tang Dynasty monk Amoghavajra (不空). 

11. 楠木, a very valuable wood unique to China/South Asia. Likely Machilus nanmu. 

12. 马面裙, a type of pleated wrap-around skirt in Ming womenswear. The author made a factual error by having men wear the mamian skirt. 

13. 牙牌, tablets hung from the waist are similar to badges of office, allowing to access to certain areas and serving as a proof of identity.

14. 文殊殿, a hall dedicated to the worship of 文殊菩萨 (Manjushri), a Bodhisattva of wisdom. 

15. 普贤殿, a hall dedicated to the worship of 普贤菩萨 (Samantabhadra), a Bodhisattva of practice and meditation. Samantabhadra forms a triad with Gautama Buddha and Manjushri. 

16. 净军, literally “[to] cleanse + army”. A military regiment composed of eunuchs. Note that the act of castration/emasculation is euphemistically referred to as 净身 (cleansing the body). 

17. 鞑子, dated derogatory term for Mongols and other ethnic groups from the north.

18. 纹银, a type of standard silver denomination in Ming and Qing.

19. 银票, a type of paper currency in Ming that was staked on silver. 

20. 柳叶格, a type of window/door lattice design, also known as 不了格. From Ming Wanli era text《客座赘语·太师窗》by 顾起元 (Gu Qiyuan). 

21. 寸, traditional unit of length equal to 3.333 cm or 1.312 inches. 

22. 释迦牟尼, another name for the Buddha. 

23. 麒麟, a mythical beast. A qilin buzi is usually restricted to gentry but I can’t say for certain that a powerful eunuch wouldn’t have worn it too. Visual reference. 

24. 辽东, an old name for the region that is more or less modern Liaoning Province in far northeastern China. This heavily militarised region was frequently raided by Manchus during late Ming so it was considered a terrible frontier destination fit only for soldiers and exiles. [