Chuzhou City has been extraordinarily lively lately.
Day after day, the crowds surge and carriages never cease. Merchant ships and passenger boats are so packed there’s barely any room to dock at Linjiang Ferry; the water and land transport commissioner stationed at the ferry sent men overnight to build two new piers just to barely disperse the flow of people and keep travel smooth for the merchants.
In the city, wine shops and inns are so crowded that even a single bed is hard to come by. Many brothels and southern theaters have had to serve guests during the day with handsome young men and pretty girls wiping off their makeup to carry tea trays and work as attendants. After many years, the Tea Tasting Convention has once again organized a “Tea War” at Mount Yuming. Besides the major tea guilds, it has also attracted countless literati, poets, scholars, and beauties, making it a truly grand event.
Having taken on this massive undertaking, Wang Xiuhe has been busy to the point that her feet barely touch the ground, unable to even step into the guest rooms of the outer residence for days. She placed four servants in the inner courtyard, ostensibly to look after Young Master Tao’s daily life, but in reality, it was to keep an eye on Fang Zesheng and see if he would make any moves at a time like this. Even a dull-witted head like Tao Xianzhi’s could see that her current situation is extremely difficult; how could someone as brilliant as Fang Zesheng not know? Although he has been sequestered in the inner courtyard for years, removed from worldly matters, and carries a temperament that swings unpredictably between joy and anger, Wang Xiuhe remains completely vigilant. Madam Wang is cautious; she has reached this position precisely because she never underestimates anyone. Even if Fang Zesheng is crippled and lame, she watches him closely, never giving him a single moment’s respite at all.
The burly servant guarding the door collapsed on the ground with an expression of agony. Cui’er squatted beside him, holding a slender silver needle and a book on meridians. Matching the spots to the acupuncture points in the text, her hand shook as she forcefully drove the needle into the servant’s leg. “Ah—! It hurts, it hurts, it hurts! Sister Cui’er, have mercy, spare me, it hurts—!”
The servant rolled on the floor in pain while pea-sized beads of sweat instantly bursting from his forehead and streaming straight down his neck. A flicker of pity crossed Cuier’s face as she hastily fished out a silver ingot and tossed it to him. She stood up and approached the tea table in the outer residence’s flower hall before saying to Madam Wang, “We’ve tried five people in a row, and not a single one could endure such pain. Madam, you can rest assured.”
Madam Wang sat at the table watching the servant as he slowly limped out the door. Seeing that the sweat soaking his back wasn’t feigned; the pain must have been truly sharp and unbearable.
“How has the inner courtyard been these past few days?”
Cui’er reported truthfully, “Young Master Tao hasn’t been home much. Second Master Fu is with him; they are nowhere to be seen from morning until night.”
“And Fang Zesheng?”
“Everything is as usual with him. A couple of days ago, he lost his temper again for some reason, smashing a vase and tearing up several scrolls. It seems he had some unpleasantness with Second Master Fu. A few days back, Second Master Fu was still staying with him in the study, but he hasn’t gone there lately. Even when he returns from outside, he goes back to the main house to rest and rarely speaks with him.”
Wang Xiuhe skimmed the warm tea, her expression softening as she said, “Fu Jingxuan was never one to endure being slighted. Zesheng has been keeping everyone at a distance; no matter how strong their childhood bond is, it cannot survive endless cold treatment.”
Cui’er smiled and said, “Madam, please go about your business. I will keep an eye on everything in the inner household for you; nothing will go wrong.”
Wang Xiuhe nodded, set down her teacup, and went into the inner room. She pulled several letters from her vanity box and opened them to look. She had read every single letter in this full box several times, yet she read them once more before asking Cui’er, “Have the people from the Fu family arrived yet?”
Cui’er replied, “Not yet. They said a few more days are needed, but it won’t postpone the Tea Tasting Contention.”
Madam Wang asked, “When the invitation was delivered to Cheng Xiqiu, did she accept it?”
Cui’er said, “Liu Ruyan accepted it.”
Madam Wang looked at the handwriting on the letter and smiled before folding it back up and putting it away. “Then there will certainly be a good show to watch.”
As the date of the Tea Tasting Convention drew nearer, Wang Xiuhe became increasingly busy. For convenience, she moved directly into the Yunhe Tower located on Changping Avenue. This was the most elegant eating house in the city and served as an offshoot of the Fang family’s tea shops; it wasn’t their primary business, but it earned a modest profit.
With Wang Xiuhe staying away at the outer residence, the main gates of the Fang family opened later and later. The domestic servants and attendants ceased taking Fang Zesheng seriously at all, each becoming lazy and neglecting their duties. Every time Cui’er came to the inner courtyard to investigate, she either saw Fu Jingxuan and Tao Xianzhi sitting in the courtyard playing chess, or she saw Fang Zesheng sitting alone in his study in a daze. If Fu Jingxuan tried to speak with him, he remained indifferent; if Tao Xianzhi invited him out, he kept his doors closed and refused to meet. After watching this for two consecutive days, Cui’er found it mind-numbingly boring. Although she was Madam Wang’s trusted confidante, even Cui’er felt that Madam Wang was excessively suspicious; spending all day staring at Fang Zesheng’s useless, crippled legs, as if terrified he might suddenly rise and reclaim the power she held.
Cui’er exchanged information with several servants in the inner courtyard under the pretext of delivering pastries. Seeing that everything was as usual, she returned to the outer residence.
Tao Xianzhi intended to go out again today and wanted to invite Fu Jingxuan to accompany him, but to his surprise, Second Master Fu emerged from his room dressed only in his inner robes and supported by San Bao. Seeing him looking groggy and dazed, Tao Xianzhi asked, “What happened here?”
Fu Jingxuan did not speak, weakly raising a hand to signal San Bao to answer for him. San Bao said in a loud, clear voice, “My Young Master seems to have caught a cold. His whole body is burning up like it’s on fire; I’m afraid he won’t be able to accompany Young Master Tao today.”
Tao Xianzhi said, “What’s there to stay if he’s running a fever? Go fetch a physician first.”
San Bao hurriedly replied, “No need, no need. It won’t do any good even if a physician comes. My Young Master has been like this since he was a child; he only needs to drink one particular dose of medicine to get better.”
Tao Xianzhi said, “Then why haven’t you hurried off to get the medicine?”
San Bao looked quite aggrieved as he glanced at the four servants standing behind Tao Xianzhi. He pulled out a prescription, noting that the herbs weren’t all in one place; one was at Qi’an Hall in the east of the city, another at Taihe Zhai in the south, one at Zhongshu Pavilion in the north, and the last at Changlong Ji in the west. For him alone, it wouldn’t be possible to collect them all even if he ran for an entire day.
Tao Xianzhi glanced at the prescription and found it looked somewhat familiar, much like what he had taken for a cold before; and indeed, two of the herbs were difficult to come by. He then ordered the servants behind him to make three copies of the prescription and gave one to each person.
The four servants looked at each other, hesitating.
Tao Xianzhi’s eyes widened, and his young master’s temper flared instantly. “What? I can’t command you guys?”
The four hurriedly denied it. Seeing that Fu Jingxuan’s face was flushed crimson, and he truly appeared to be feverish, they dared not delay any longer and rushed off to fetch the medicine.
At that moment, including Tao Xianzhi, only five people were in the inner courtyard. Young Master Tao lifted his hand and pressed it against Fu Jingxuan’s forehead; it was so scorching it burned the back of his hand, and he quickly withdrew it. “Forget it, forget it. I’d better go find a physician to check on you after all.” After saying this, he instructed San Bao to serve him well and turned to stride out of the courtyard gate in a few steps.
Fu Jingxuan weakly thanked him and was supported back to the room by San Bao.
With no one in the courtyard, it became quite tranquil.
After a while, the sound of rolling wooden wheels rang out. San Bao was nowhere to be found, and only Fu Jingxuan remained in the room lying on the bed, appearing to be asleep.
Fang Zesheng’s expression was cold and detached, showing not a hint of worry. The mute uncle pushed him to the bedside and reached out to touch Fu Jingxuan’s forehead. It was indeed terrifyingly hot. He hurriedly gestured: He seems truly gravely ill; he must take medicine immediately.
Fang Zesheng frowned. Seeing a basin of used lukewarm water by the bed, he instructed the mute uncle to fetch a fresh basin. Sitting alone by the bedside, he said, “Get up.”
Fu Jingxuan lay on the bed without moving. After a moment, he even coughed twice, groaning painfully in a low murmur while his hands shook violently.
Fang Zesheng glanced at him; seeing that he did not seem to be faking, a ripple of emotion immediately rose in his calm eyes. He hurriedly turned his wheelchair closer to the bed and heard him murmur the word, “Gege…”
This “Gege” made Fang Zesheng pause in surprise. Fu Jingxuan had only called him that a few times during their childhood. Back then, being young and knowing Fang Zesheng was half a year older, he would call him “Gege” incessantly. Fang Zesheng had enjoyed it very much; having no close siblings of his own, he would happily respond whenever Fu Jingxuan called him that. It was only later as they grew up, and their pure feelings underwent slight changes that he no longer wished to be addressed as “Gege”.
Fu Jingxuan called out repeatedly and urgently as if there was something pressing he needed to say.
Fang Zesheng leaned forward as much as possible before gently stroking his burning cheek. After a long silence, he softly and deeply whispered, “Xuan’er.”
As if hearing an echo, Fu Jingxuan suddenly grew quiet.
The birdcage occasionally emitted a few melodious chirps outside the window. A pair of canaries recently brought back from the flower and bird market peered through their four tiny mung-bean-like eyes, stealing a glance into the room through the lattice window.
Fu Jingxuan’s eyes remained tightly shut but the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. Fang Zesheng realized something was wrong as his face flushed red. He intended to pull his hand away and leave, but Fu Jingxuan tightly gripped the corner of his robe, rendering him unable to move at all.
