White Robe - Chapter 4
From dawn to sunset, Yun Yiyang and I waited for four hours.
There was only an elderly servant standing nearby, his face so wrinkled that it almost covered his aged, cloudy eyes. He didn't speak, but just stood quietly to the side, occasionally letting out a few low, hoarse coughs.
"I can't take it anymore, I really can't take it anymore!" Yun Yiyang finally stood up, shouting as he rubbed his stiff legs. "Sister Bai... Baiyi, let's not wait any longer, let's go home."
"Fine, go home then." I replied casually, sitting on the bamboo chair, without stopping Yun Yiyang, who had already stood up. "But, don't ever again shout any jokes about revitalizing Guiyun Manor in my ear!" My voice suddenly became unusually stern when I said the last sentence.
Yun Yiyang's dark face suddenly turned so red it looked like it was about to bleed!
Without saying a word, he walked back to the chair next to me and sat up straight.
I smiled softly behind the black veil, watching him like a big kid sulking after being scolded by his parents. I walked up to him, gently took his hand, and he moved slightly but didn't pull away. I helped him up and walked to Tingzhu Xiaozhu. My voice was as gentle as the spring breeze in March: "Yiyang, listen carefully, what did you hear?"
I took Yun Yiyang's hand, and his dark face turned red again, this time out of youthful shyness.
"No..." He listened intently for a while, "There's nothing there."
I shook my head. “No, listen. That’s the autumn wind blowing through the bamboo leaves… That’s the cicadas chirping among the bamboo branches. Listen carefully… Over there is a clear spring, flowing quietly past the bamboo roots. And that’s the gentle pattering of the bamboo leaves… If you’re willing, you’ll discover that in the quiet passage of time, there are so many delightful things worth observing and listening to. Listen to Bamboo Cottage, listen to Bamboo Cottage. If you don’t listen carefully, how can you discover things you’ve never noticed before?”
Yun Yiyang did not answer, but I could see that his eyes shone with an unprecedented light. I believe that my words will remain in the heart of this young man for a long time, even for a lifetime. He will listen carefully and discover things he has not yet discovered!
Time passed slowly, and the old servant's hoarse voice broke the silence of Tingzhu Xiaozhu. A hint of a smile seemed to appear in his dim eyes:
"Young masters, my master invites you!"
In a bamboo hut behind, three people sat silently on bamboo chairs. It was hard to imagine that these three were the world-renowned embroiderer Su Sanshou. One person had empty sleeves and was covered in colorful paint from head to toe. His eyes were fixed on a landscape painting in front of him, and he didn't say a word. The person next to him was covered in ink stains, and his left sleeve was also empty. His other hand, with bulging veins, held a wolf-hair brush dipped in ink. The last person was dressed in white, spotless, and leaned lazily against the bamboo chair, as if he had no strength left in his body. His hands were gently placed on the embroidery railing in front of him. His hands were white and delicate, even softer than the hands of a young woman waiting to be married.
The man holding the wolf-hair brush turned around. He was in his thirties, but his face was surprisingly sharp. He smiled slightly and said, "Thank you for waiting, gentlemen. I am Su Er, this is our elder brother Su Da, and this is my younger brother." After introducing the two, he continued, "We heard this young master inside the door." He pointed to me with the wolf-hair brush and nodded, saying, "This young master in black speaks with refined and elegant words, deeply understanding the essence of 'listening to the bamboo.' He asked Uncle Su to invite the two gentlemen here to help my elder brother solve a problem."
I glanced at Yun Yiyang and saw that he was at a loss for words. I couldn't help but sigh inwardly and cupped my hands in reply, "Sir, you are too kind. We are from Guiyun Manor in Jiangzhou. This is my young master. May I ask what you have to teach me?"
Su Er sighed and said, "Young master, there's no need for such modesty. Please—" He pointed to the ink painting in front of Su Da and said, "This is my elder brother's most prized work, called 'Li Bai's Drunken Recitation.' Originally, after I inscribed it, my younger brother was going to embroider it on white silk. But three months ago, a scholar saw this painting, praised it as wonderful, and casually recited the line 'Who can see the moon by the water first?' He laughed and left, which has caused my elder brother great distress..." Yun Yiyang asked curiously, "Why has it caused great distress, Mr. Su?" Su Er glanced at Yun Yiyang and continued, "My elder brother thinks these seven characters are concise yet profound, with a lasting and elegant flavor. They are an excellent first line of a couplet, but he just can't come up with a matching second line. He's been so anxious for three months that he can't sleep or eat properly. He still can't finish embroidering 'Li Bai's Drunken Recitation.' We heard your elegant words in the small building. Perhaps you can come up with a matching second line for my elder brother and solve this problem."
I nodded slightly, thinking to myself, "No wonder everyone says that Su Sanshou hasn't finished a single embroidery piece in the past three months. So that's why." But I didn't stop walking. I walked up to the painting and examined it closely. In the painting, the clouds were rolling and the moon was half-revealed. A figure in ink and wash stood by the river, his sleeves fluttering, looking up at the moon. His expression was lifelike. Su Da stared intently at the scroll, his lips moving incessantly: "I want to climb the peak and look at the mountain again... I go to the high platform to observe the stars... It's not good for 'who can see the moon by the water'. Who can see the moon by the water? Who can see the moon by the water..." His eyes were glazed over, as if he were in a daze.
I gazed at the painting for a long time, and suddenly felt a refreshing and elegant feeling rush to my chest. This ink painting seemed to have a kind of magic, directly drawing one's attention to it. I parted my lips slightly and slowly said, "Why not say 'I wish to ride the wind straight to the sky'!"
Su Da was startled and abruptly stood up, shouting, "Yes! Yes! Who can see the moon's reflection on the water before knowing it? I wish to ride the wind straight to the heavens! Who can see the moon's reflection on the water before knowing it? I wish to ride the wind straight to the heavens!" He yelled at Su Er, "Bring me the brush!" Su Er, as if prepared, handed Su Da the wolf-hair brush. Su Da tilted his head, bit the brush handle, and with a flick of his tousled head, like a lion shaking its head, he swung the brush across the canvas. With a few swift strokes, the ink painting of Li Bai appeared, his robes fluttering, gusts of wind rising, the poet immortal vividly brought to life. After Su Da finished, he tossed his head, sending the brush flying to Su Er. Su Er caught the brush with one hand, and instantly became a different person, focused and calm, his brushstrokes flowing like dragons and snakes, like falling clouds and smoke. The words "Who can see the moon's reflection on the water before knowing it? I wish to ride the wind straight to the heavens!" leaped onto the paper, the last character "heaven" particularly elegant.
After Su Da and Su Er stopped, Su's third brother also made a move.
I have never seen such embroidery skills before, nor have I ever realized that a man could look so handsome when he picks up an embroidery needle.
Su San held the embroidery needle as if a swordsman had picked up his beloved sword, or a scholar had held his familiar writing brush. Each stitch was swift as the wind and graceful as the clouds, like the most beautiful woman combing her hair, or like a heroic general wielding his long sword.
Su San pulled out the last thread, her fair hands holding the embroidery needle, and sighed with satisfaction.
The old servant slowly walked in and said in a low voice, "Master, the owners of twelve embroidery and silk shops in the north and south are waiting outside the door."
Su Da laughed heartily, his voice booming: "Today's embroidery, 'Li Bai's Drunken Poem,' is not for sale!" He strode over, forcefully patted my shoulder with his amputated arm, and laughed loudly: "Today's embroidery is not for sale; it's a gift for this young brother from Guiyun Manor!"
A smile appeared on Su San's handsome face. He remained silent, and with a flick of his fair and beautiful hand, the three-zhang-long white silk, like a dragon soaring in the sky, was rolled up. With another flick of his hand, the rolled-up white silk fell into my arms.
"Thank you, Baiyi." I laughed heartily and walked out of Tingzhu Xiaozhu with Yun Yiyang.
The sky outside was ablaze with rosy dawn, the sunlight dazzling; it was already daylight.
Chapter Four: A Falling Leaf Signals the Arrival of Autumn
I leaned lazily against the bamboo chair, a copy of "Bai Juyi's Collected Works" in my hand. The autumn breeze gently blew through my long hair, scattering strands of black hair that danced silently in the wind. I let my black hair fly, watching a yellow leaf drift past my eyes.
I sighed deeply and closed my eyes slightly… Time flies so fast. Before I knew it, more than half a year had passed in this Song Dynasty city. Half a year is enough time for one to forget many things: Xiao Zhenzhen, Hu Jin, Hou Liyun, even that crazy Lü Ziliang… I had almost completely forgotten my modern life. I even suspected that my twenty-odd years of modern life were just a dream, and that the me now, the me in the Song Dynasty, was the real, tangible me.
What is false may be taken for true, and what is true may be taken for false; what is nonexistent may be taken for something, and what is something may be taken for nothing. Truth and falsehood are inherently difficult to distinguish.
"Sister Bai! Sister Bai! Guess what good news I have?" A clear and cheerful voice came from afar, and soon it was nearing my courtyard. A tall, slender figure leaped over the bamboo fence and ran towards me, laughing loudly.
"Yiyang, are you on fire? What's the rush?" I closed the book, turned around and smiled at the person who came. Only this boy could run into my courtyard without announcing himself, and only this boy could make me take off the suffocating black curtain and freely show a fresh and carefree smile.
Yun Yiyang, the young master of Guiyun Manor, is someone I must assist in this era. Compared to half a year ago, he has grown taller and darker. His clear eyes now show more composure and maturity, but in front of me, he is still like a child, a big kid who likes to act spoiled and show off in front of his older sister from time to time.
Holding a package in his hand, Yun Yiyang excitedly exclaimed, "Sister Bai, guess what this is?"
I casually wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief, tilted my head and smiled, "What is it?... Oh... let me think, is it Su Sanshou's new embroidery? Is it Granny Yang's woven flowers? Is it Aunt Xu's gold thread knot?"
I asked three questions in a row, and Yun Yiyang shook his head three times like a rattle-drum, laughing triumphantly, "Haha, even the famous White-Robed Minister of the Twelve Provinces of the North and South, such a clever Sister Bai, has a time when she can't guess. This is the Liaoling that Sister Bai said could only be worn by the first-class Zhaoyang dancers in the Tang Dynasty! Uncle Gongsun and Aunt Xu searched through classics and racked their brains to rediscover the Liaoling weaving technique that was lost during the Tianbao era of the Tang Dynasty. Just as Sister Bai said, there really is such an exquisitely beautiful silk weaving as Liaoling! Sister Bai, look—" Yun Yiyang's hand trembled, the bundle opened, and a white ribbon flew out from his hand, slowly falling in front of me with the wind.
Is this the kind of brocade that can only be seen in poetry?
The white silk before me, like wisps of smoke and clusters of snow, was unlike brocade or white silk. It shimmered with a cold light in the sunlight, yet when unfolded on the table, it felt light and icy to the touch, like clouds and mist. My hand gently traced the exquisite and delicate patterns of the silk, and I was captivated, slowly reciting Bai Juyi's poem "Lingering Silk": "Lingering silk, lingering silk, what does it resemble? It is unlike silk gauze or fine brocade..."
Yun Yiyang then proclaimed loudly, "It should resemble the forty-five-foot waterfall before the bright moon above and below the Heavenly Terrace!"
The text is both exquisite and wondrous, with white fireworks and clusters of snow covering the ground.
Whose clothes are these? A cold woman from Yuexi, a palace maid from Han.
Last year, the Chinese envoy issued an imperial edict, requesting that samples be taken from heaven and woven on earth.
It is woven into the autumn geese flying beyond the clouds, and dyed into the colors of spring waters in Jiangnan.
Wide-sleeved shirts and long skirts, with gold-plated irons and wavy patterns cut with a scissor...
“Taking samples from heaven to weave on earth… What a wonderful ‘Taking samples from heaven to weave on earth’!” I suddenly clapped my hands and laughed happily, “What a wonderful ‘Liaoling’ by Bai Xiangshan! Yiyang, go and invite Yuan Wuse from our Guiyun Manor Dyehouse to dye the Liaoling, and then ask Su Sanshou to weave and embroider on the Liaoling for us!”
"What kind of patterns should be dyed and embroidered on this silk?" Yun Yiyang asked curiously. This silk is something that no one in the mortal world has ever seen. What kind of dyeing and embroidery would be suitable to match this exquisite piece taken from heaven?
Looking at the exquisite, otherworldly silk, I already had an idea in mind and softly said:
"Woven into the autumn geese flying beyond the clouds...dyed into the colors of spring waters in Jiangnan..."