LC chapter 25

 

A wind had picked up outside the window at some unknown hour, whistling urgently against the panes and then falling calm. Lin Ruan suddenly collapsed by the bedside, clutching his mouth as he coughed. The scarf covering his eyes was long since soaked through with tears.

Zhan Xi picked up a glass of water from the bedside table and helped Lin Ruan rinse his mouth, stroking his trembling back.

It took Lin Ruan a long time to recover. Zhan Xi carried him to the bed, unbuttoned his collar, and helped him breathe more easily. At some point, the peony flower on his chest had become stained. Zhan Xi noticed and helped him take off his clothes. Beneath the vibrant red satin was a body as white as snow and jade.

Lin Ruan rolled under the covers and whispered, “Sir.”

His voice was hoarse, as if injured.

Zhan Xi’s eyes were filled with the laziness of satiated satisfaction. Hearing Lin Ruan’s call, he responded with a nonchalant “Hm.”

“Can I take off the tie?”

Zhan Xi said nothing, simply reaching out to undo it for him.

Having been in the dark for so long, it took Lin Ruan a moment to adjust to the sudden light. Zhan Xi had turned off the lights at some point, leaving only a small bedside lamp on. Lin Ruan looked at Zhan Xi. He was still fully dressed with two buttons undone at his collar, looking both lazy and elegant.

Lin Ruan was almost completely undressed and snuggled under the covers. His face was flushed as he looked at Zhan Xi.

Zhan Xi touched Lin Ruan’s slightly red eyes as if he had put rouge on them. The slightest reaction made him look weathered.

Zhan Xi looked at Lin Ruan and asked softly, “Do you hate this?”

Lin Ruan huddled back under the covers and stared at Zhan Xi without blinking. He shook his head slightly.

Zhan Xi paused, his gaze softening like spring ice melting into water.

Zhan Xi reached out and brushed his knuckles against Lin Ruan’s flushed cheek. Lowering his head, he placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

This was their first kiss. Although they had been intimate before, kissing was always different.

Lin Ruan stared at Zhan Xi, who was so close that he couldn’t react. His breath was even filled with Zhan Xi’s scent.

Neither of them closed their eyes. Lin Ruan stared into Zhan Xi’s deep, penetrating eyes. He felt himself sinking into Zhan Xi, hearing the sound of his own heartbeat clearly.

Zhan Xi still had one hand on Lin Ruan’s neck, a coercive and confining gesture that left no room for resistance.

His kiss was gentle yet left Lin Ruan with no room to retreat.

—

The leaves on the trees outside the teaching building gradually turned green. As the weather warmed, birds returned home and took up residence in the trees, chirping incessantly.

Lin Ruan propped his head up with one hand, holding a pen that moved back and forth across the paper. Meng Zhen patted him on the shoulder and asked, “What are you drawing?”

Lin Ruan quickly covered the drawing with another sheet of paper.

“There’s no point in trying to stop me. I saw it all.” Meng Zhen leaned closer and asked, “Why are you drawing your Master?

“My master is pretty.” Lin Ruan looked at Meng Zhen. “What’s going on?”

Meng Zhen sat down. “Teacher Fang asked you to go to his office.”

“Now?”

Meng Zhen nodded.

Lin Ruan stood up, ready to leave. As he turned around, Meng Zhen reached for the drawing he had just finished. Lin Ruan reacted quickly, snatching it up, folding it, and stuffing it into his pocket.

Meng Zhen curled his lips, and Lin Ruan snorted at him.

Fang Chengze’s office was on the first floor. Lin Ruan knocked on the door, received a response, and pushed it open. Besides Fang Chengze, there were two other male professors, one of whom was standing in front of Li Mingwen.

Li Mingwen caught sight of Lin Ruan and quickly averted his gaze.

“Well,” said Fang Cheng, looking at Lin Ruan. “The school is holding an architectural design competition. I’ve seen your work; it’s beautiful. Would you like to enter?”

“Me?” Lin Ruan asked. “But I’m in the history department, not the architecture department.”

“That’s okay,” said Fang Cheng. “There are no restrictions.”

Yenching University’s architecture department primarily focuses on Western architecture, offering few courses on ancient Chinese architecture. Fang Cheng, a professor of ancient architecture, felt marginalized.

“Everyone admires Western architecture, but I think ancient Chinese architecture is incomparably beautiful,” Fang Chengze said. “Times are hard, our nation is in turmoil, and many have lost faith in our culture. How can we accept this? This is the heart of Beijing. Its architecture carries centuries of history and prosperity and is imbued with majesty and splendor. We can’t afford to lose it to others.”

Although Fang Chengze’s voice wasn’t particularly impassioned, Lin Ruan could sense the reluctance and dejection beneath his calm tone.

In the end, Lin Ruan agreed to Fang Chengze’s decision. He didn’t give it much thought. The moment he left the office, he felt the choice wasn’t so difficult.

Perhaps Suanzi was right; choices are inherently arbitrary.

After school, Lin Ruan didn’t go home immediately. He lingered for a long time, somewhat reluctant to return to the Lan Mansion.

He was preoccupied with things he couldn’t understand and people he couldn’t see clearly.

As he walked down the street, a familiar voice drifted through the clamor: “Yin and yang, the five elements, the ten trigrams, the nine spirits. If you pass by, don’t miss it…”

Lin Ruan looked in the direction of the voice and saw a familiar figure under a poplar tree at the intersection.

The fortune teller sat on a small stool with a dusty cloth bearing an eight-trigram pattern spread out before him. He closed his eyes and played his erhu with a carefree flow.

Few passersby were willing to stop and have their fortunes told, as the small stall and its owner both looked shady.

Lin Ruan hadn’t expected to see Suan Zi there. He was still thinking about the cake shop. Zhan Xi had bought it, though, and they had sold everything except hazelnut cakes.

Lin Ruan walked over to the stall and blocked Suan Zi’s view of the setting sun.

Suan Zi opened one eye and smiled the moment he saw Lin Ruan.

Lin Ruan asked, “Why do you make mistakes as a fortune teller?”

“No,” Suan Zi replied. “I’m just being humble.”

Lin Ruan was speechless. As if by magic, Suan Zi pulled another small ponytail out from behind him and handed it to Lin Ruan. Lin Ruan took it and sat down across from Suan Zi.

“Fortune telling or music? Music costs extra.”

Lin Ruan wondered what kind of music was available. The erhu, which you can play at will? That would be taxing on the ears.

“Do you have someone you like?” Lin Ruan asked.

Suanzi opened his eyes, looked at Lin Ruan, and then closed them again. “It’s not very kind of you to ask a monk such a question.”

Lin Ruan frowned. “When did you become a monk? Are you a monk?”

“Not a monk, but a sort of Taoist priest,” Suanzi replied. “It’s all the same. We practice purity of the six senses.”

“Oh.” Lin Ruan thought for a moment, then asked, “Then do you know what it means to be in love?”

Suanzi glanced at him, speechless. Then he stood up and said, “I’ll take you somewhere.”

He wrapped the two ponytails in a gray cloth and threw them onto a poplar tree. They caught on a branch. He clapped his hands and walked off in one direction.

Lin Ruan followed Suanzi and soon entered an alley. Considering it was an alley, it was quite spacious, with several small cars parked at the entrance. Every house had a light at the door. The alley was short, with courtyards arranged one after another in a typical traditional quadrangle style.

Lin Ruan remembered Fang Chengze mentioning the architectural design competition, so he carefully observed the gatehouses and houses.

He stopped at a courtyard. A glass plaque with red diamond embroidery hung on the gate. It read, “Su Yu Pavilion.”[mfn]粟玉閣 (Suyu Pavilion) means “Millet and Jade Pavilion.” But Suyu Pavilion are often used for teahouses, courtesan houses, or private entertainment venues — elegant on the surface, but possibly a place for social or intimate gatherings.[/mfn] Lin Ruan studied the three characters for a moment and asked, “What on earth is this place?”

Suan Zi stepped inside. “Yanzhi Hutong[mfn]胭脂胡同 (Yānzhī hútòng) means “Rouge Alley.” suggests a district associated with entertainment or courtesans.[/mfn] — Qingyin Xiaobanr[mfn]清吟小班儿 (Qingyin Xiaobanr): literally “Refined Singing Troupe,” referring to elite courtesan houses where women (or sometimes men) entertained with poetry, music, and conversation.[/mfn].”

Inside was a spacious courtyard. Beyond the screen wall was the main house, which faced the main building and was flanked by two side rooms, for a total of seven or eight rooms. In the center of the courtyard, a crabapple tree stood, its branches sprouting green buds.

As Suanzhi walked in, a young man in black approached him and said, “Master Wei.”

Lin Ruan looked at Suanzi curiously. “Your surname is Wei? Wei Suanzi?”

“That sounds so unpleasant,” Suanzi said. “Wei is my real surname. I’ve long forgotten what my nickname was. Suanzi is the name my master gave me.”

Suanzi walked further in. A woman in her twenties emerged from the main hall, though she clearly wasn’t considered young in this place.

Suanzi was familiar with this woman. He greeted her briefly before stepping inside. Lin Ruan followed Suanzi inside, struck by the odd feeling that he had been sold off.

The room had a grand entrance with a carved mahogany bed and a floral carpet. Famous calligraphy and paintings adorned the walls, alongside priceless antiques.

The Eight Hutongs[mfn]八大胡同 (Eight Hutongs): historically famous red-light districts or pleasure quarters in Beijing.[/mfn] were divided by rank. The highest class, Qingyin Xiaobanr, was located mostly in Rouge Alley — a place that drew countless high officials and noblemen willing to spend fortunes for a night.

Suanzi and Lin Ruan sat down at the table when two young girls arrived to serve snacks and fruit.

“Why did you bring me here?” Lin Ruan asked.

“I can’t answer your romantic questions,” Suanzi replied. “But this is a romantic place, perfect for answering your romantic questions.”

Before Lin Ruan could respond, several young boys came in. One of them looked about fifteen or sixteen. He wore a lake-colored silk gown, pale blue waders, and satin flats. He had an androgynous appearance and a pretty face.

The fortune teller looked at the woman and told her she was mistaken; no one was needed here.

Lin Ruan, however, only looked at the boy’s clothes. The gown looked too much like a cheongsam to him, with a tight waist that perfectly revealed the boy’s figure.

Thinking of this, Lin Ruan remembered the red satin cheongsam. It was stained, the gold thread fraying with the slightest touch, and the pattern was ruined. He couldn’t keep the dress.

Zhan Xi, of course, didn’t care about this single garment. He said they had plenty of fine fabrics at home. Though the cheongsam’s satin was exquisite, it was ultimately rather old. Once he retrieved the satins, he would make something new for Lin Ruan.

But for what? He couldn’t make another cheongsam, could he? Zhan Xi didn’t specify.