Wenhua, lying inside the pavilion, gazed toward his old friend whom he hadn’t seen in years. Long ago, when they traveled the land together, he always envied young Xu for his dashing good looks. Along their journeys through remote villages, whenever they needed to ask for food or water, Xu’s handsome appearance ensured generous offerings. If the villagers were coarse and unsophisticated women, they’d even be more lavish in their gifts. Yet, while bestowing charity, they couldn’t help themselves from pinching his hands, and the bold ones, when their husbands were away, would even pinch his cheeks with a smile, calling him a fine-looking young man. Every time this happened, Wenhua always felt uneasy—damn it, this brat took all the limelight. But in time, he grew accustomed to it and would even tease Xu Fengnian about becoming a pretty boy for noble city girls. Xu would usually fly into a rage, shouting that he was a nobleman from Liangzhou, and he couldn’t afford to lose face. Wenhua couldn’t help but laugh. Big noble? Bigger than the son of Beiliang King? Now, meeting again, seeing Xu Fengnian again, Wenhua found him somewhat unfamiliar. Perhaps it was because he was wearing some fancy attire Xu must have acquired from some dubious source—it made him look too presentable, too good, not quite real. Could it be that Xu was truly the son of a minor aristocrat from Beiliang? If so, could they still remain such close friends? Subconsciously, Wenhua scratched his crotch—an old habit he’d had for over a decade, far too vulgar for polite company—but Wenhua was a country boy, and try as he might, he couldn’t shake the habit. Xu Fengnian used to mock him for it, saying that when he became a famous swordsman and all eyes were on him during a duel, suddenly scratching his crotch would not only look absurd, but also ruin his image as a true swordsman. Would any girl ever admire such an undignified hero? Wenhua had pondered this dilemma seriously, yet to this day, he still saw no reason to change. He feared that if he did, he might become just like those phony, mannered noblemen they met in their travels.
Xu Fengnian, feeling somewhat uneasy under Wenhua’s gaze, asked, “Why are you here in Xiangfan?”
Wenhua sighed dramatically, “I met a girl I really like, and I followed her here all the way.”
Xu Fengnian chuckled, “Ah, you never change—just like in the old days. Whenever you saw a woman with a chest and hips, you thought she was the one. You never picky, but did any of them ever give you the time of day?”
Wenhua sat upright, grinning mischievously, making a round gesture with his hands, “No, no, this time it’s different. She’s truly beautiful, both inside and out. I think I’ll love only her for the rest of my life.”
Xu Fengnian scoffed, “Pull the other one—you’ve said that about every girl before.”
Wenhua leaned back against the pillar, shaking his head. “Not anymore.”
Xu Fengnian noticed the seriousness in Wenhua’s tone and asked curiously, “So you’re really serious? Which poor girl got caught in your clutches? Give me her name, I’d like to have a look.”
Wenhua shouted, “Poor nothing! Listen here—one word of warning, don’t you dare try to steal her from me. Otherwise we won’t be friends anymore!”
Xu Fengnian growled, “I’ve had more women in my arms than you’ve even seen in your life. Why would I be interested in yours?”
Wenhua huffed, “I know your type—I know you’re great at talking anyone into anything, and you’re slick with deception. But if some poor girl ever falls for you, I’ll be right there to stop her.”
Xu Fengnian leaned against another pillar, grinning at him, “Then you’ll be busy.”
Wenhua didn’t feel like bickering anymore—he knew the fewer words, the less hunger he’d feel—and he closed his eyes, hugging his wooden sword.
Xu Fengnian turned his gaze toward the Baogu Pagoda, one of the Ten Views of Shouyang Lake. As lakes go, Shouyang wasn’t particularly large, but it had a long history. In earlier days, without proper water management, heavy rains would flood the surrounding areas, while droughts would leave the lake bone dry. It truly couldn’t have been called picturesque. Only when two famed literati from the previous dynasty served as governors of Qingzhou and took special interest in the lake did it begin to change. They applied the method of digging five wells and expanding the stone aqueducts—thus creating the Shouyang we see today. The Xiangguo Lane took its name from one of those five wells. Though history often blames scholars for losing wars during the Spring and Autumn period, Shouyang Lake remains a quiet testament to the power of scholarly governance.
As Xu Fengnian gazed out, he heard Wenhua’s stomach rumbling with hunger. Returning his gaze with a smile, he asked, “How about I get us some wine and meat?”
Wenhua looked skeptical. “From where?”
Xu Fengnian gave a subtle hand signal to Qingniao, and soon she brought over a tray from the inn, filled with fragrant wine and meat. Wenhua looked at Qingniao, then at the tray, in disbelief, “You really made it big! You even got yourself a beautiful wife?!”
Qingniao blushed, and Xu Fengnian tore off a piece of beef and chased it with wine, laughing, “Just eat.”
Wenhua devoured the food greedily, glancing occasionally at Qingniao, and murmured, “Little sister-in-law, with all due respect, if you really want a peaceful life, you must watch him closely. He isn’t a bad person, but he’s too ambitious and restless by nature.”
Xu Fengnian threw another piece of beef at him, scolding, “Who asked for your advice?”
Wenhua caught it frantically, shoved it into his mouth, and glared, “Wasting such good food?!”
Qingniao spoke softly, “Sir Wenhua, I am merely a servant girl.”
Wenhua exclaimed, “What?! No way. If you’re just a servant girl, the heavens are unjust!”
Xu Fengnian laughed, “She was born a noble lady, but cursed with a servant’s fate. I feel sorry for her.”
Wenhua retorted, “Xu! Show some respect! How dare you say such a thing about her fate! Be careful, or I’ll beat you up!”
Xu Fengnian rolled his eyes.
Wenhua, mouth full of food, looked up at Qingniao and tried his best to offer the most gallant smile of his life as he said shyly, “Miss, just for calling me ‘Master Wenhua,’ if this brat dares to mistreat you in the future, I’ll be the first to teach him a lesson. His little three-legged-cat sword skills? I won’t even need my sword—I’ll flatten him barehanded!”
Xu Fengnian laughed heartily, “Master Wenhua, come, have some more wine!”
Wenhua’s heart soared—being called “Master” for the first time in his life felt incredible. He suddenly felt that aside from his beloved, this young lady might be the second most charming woman in the world! A lady this refined and well-mannered? Just a servant? He wouldn’t believe it.
Rarely this full and content after two or three years of hardship, Wenhua burped with satisfaction. He carefully poured the rest of the wine into his gourd. He gave Xu Fengnian a meaningful look, but Xu shook his head. Wenhua insisted with a determined nod. Qingniao watched in confusion, until finally Xu Fengnian, unable to resist, awkwardly told Qingniao to return the tray to the inn. The two men then dashed out of the pavilion like a pair of mischievous boys and crept into a nearby grassy area beside the lake. They dropped their pants and squatted, their bare butts glowing pale under the moonlight. Two grown men defecating by Shouyang Lake seemed completely absurd, but for those who knew their shared history of hardship, such crude behavior was perfectly understandable. For Wenhua, a nobody who had lived in poverty, the greatest happiness in the world wasn’t eating or sleeping—it was the act of shitting, because only after eating could one have that luxury. A simple truth indeed.
Squatting by the lake, Wenhua exhaled contentedly, “Who knows, maybe a great poet once stood here before us. The thought alone makes me giddy!”
Xu Fengnian said nothing.
Certainly not even the Prince Jing’an Zhao Heng could imagine that the heir of Beiliang would be defecating by the Shouyang Lake with a common fellow.
Seeing Xu Fengnian silent, Wenhua grew bored, then suddenly exclaimed, “Hey, I just realized—there’s a stone monument behind where I’m shitting!”
Xu Fengnian finally lost his temper, “That’s the *Shouyang Lake Dike Inscription* erected by the former Governor Li Mi of the previous dynasty! You truly know how to pick your spots, you bastard!”
Wenhua remained silent for a moment, muttering, “My apologies, my apologies.”
Xu Fengnian hesitated, then softly asked, “Wenhua, have you ever thought about coming along again? Like old times—just wander together?”
Wenhua laughed, “No way. Don’t think I’m that dumb. You’re someone important now—I don’t care who you are, I’ll still treat you as my brother. But brother or not, while mooching off you is natural, you having money and me having pride—so you go your noble way, and I’ll take mine. We’ll meet again when fate allows. I’ve always dreamed of mastering the sword, and if I stick to you, I might lose my drive. Thanks for the offer, but I must decline. I’m leaving the city tomorrow—I want to see the northern border, just to get some experience.”
Xu Fengnian said softly, “The border will be dangerous. Be careful.”
Wenhua teased, “Dangerous? So you really are a noble of Beiliang?”
Xu Fengnian smiled, “Of course.”
Wenhua sighed, “I used to promise to treat you to a feast—I guess now I owe you one.”
Xu Fengnian replied, “Let’s keep it on credit. Just staying alive is repayment enough.”
Wenhua chuckled, “If old Huang were here, he’d say I should respond, ‘You’re right.’”
Xu Fengnian seemed to recall something, murmuring, “You’re right.”
Suddenly Wenhua shouted, “Hey, the grass here is too short to wipe my arse properly! Yours looks wider! Toss me some!”
Grumbling, Xu Fengnian threw a bundle of leaves over.
Back in the pavilion, Wenhua asked, “You’re not going back to the inn?”
Xu Fengnian shook his head. “Let’s talk. Tell me more about your girl.”
They talked until dawn. Wenhua glanced at the pale morning sky, stood, and said, “Alright, I need to leave now. As for the wine and meat you’ve given me, remember it for me. Oh, and do me a favor—thank that fine young lady for me. Never in my life have I been called a ‘Master’!”
Xu Fengnian hesitated, then asked, “I have an old sword master by my side. Would you like to meet him?”
Wenhua tightened his grip on his wooden sword and smiled, shaking his head, “No need. That’s another’s path, and even if he offered, I couldn’t walk it.”
Xu Fengnian teased, “But you used to dream of being taken in by a great master!”
Wenhua responded earnestly, “I only thought about it. As old Huang said, sincerity is vital in swordsmanship, just as in praying to the gods. But in my idle time, I came up with something that might not make much sense—my sword must be my own. With my talent, following another’s path will never lead me to success. I hate leaving debts unpaid, especially the kind that would last until our hair turned white. Well then—goodbye! Don’t get all sentimental like a woman!”
Wenhua beamed:
“How white the mantou, whiter than a maiden’s breast.”
Xu Fengnian smiled warmly:
“How high the lotus tip, higher than a maiden’s hip.”
On the long willow-lined embankment wrapped in mist, Wenhua parted with Xu Fengnian with a slap of their palms, passing each other like fleeting clouds.
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