Chapter Four: The Greater the Bandit's Cunning, the More Clumsy His Schemes; The Younger the Girl's Verse, the More Wondrous Her Words

A lyric ci poem reads:

The wild wind thought only to scatter the blossoms away,

Bruising and tossing them, taking its pleasure.

Yet who could have known it would carry them to a hidden place,

And there bring about their fateful meeting?

The bonds of marriage are written across three lives —

They stirred themselves forth as lines of verse about flying petals.

No word was spoken of bride-price or of wedding rites,

Yet the heart had already found its home.

To the tune of "Remembering Old Friends at Peach Blossom Spring"

Now it is told that Song Tuotian had seized his chance amid the festival confusion, abducted Rong Gu, and hidden her aboard the boat, believing his scheme had succeeded. But then word reached him that Duanju had gone to the county office and filed a complaint, and a search had been launched in all directions. The gang fell into a panic, and some said that Rong Gu should be done away with so there would be no evidence left. Song Tuotian said: "There is no need for that. As the saying goes, 'Where one place will not keep a man, there will be another that will.' If we stay in this district, I fear we shall drag others into harm. Let me take her to a distant place — then what is there to fear?" The others said: "If you are willing to go far away, then all will be well. But it would not be convenient for us to travel together. We shall turn back now." And so they each parted and went their separate ways. Song Tuotian kept only two of his closest brothers to accompany him. From that point on they travelled by night and rested by day, and the boatmen were also in on the scheme, so they slipped away without a sound.

Rong Gu, seized and brought onto the boat, had already been frightened half to death. Then, overhearing the men grumble about her crying and threaten to throw her into the river, she was frightened half to death again. She thought to herself: "I have fallen by misfortune into the jaws of a tiger. At least I am young, and he has not yet been able to do me any real harm. If I continue weeping and making trouble, I will provoke these wolves and leopards, and my life will not be safe, and I shall never see my parents again. Better to feign stupidity, wait and watch where he hides me. Perhaps Heaven will take pity on me, and some other opportunity will arise by which I might surface again — one can never say for certain." Having settled on this plan, she stopped her weeping and adopted instead all the manners of a carefree child. She sat in the cabin when she wished to sit, slept when she wished to sleep, and ate when food was offered.

Song Tuotian, seeing she was no longer weeping as before, was overjoyed, and came into the cabin to speak with her: "I have admired your beauty, young lady, not just for a day or two. I have spent no small amount of effort to bring you to my side. This is surely a match made across lifetimes, and no small matter." Rong Gu said: "I am just a little girl. What use could a grown man have for me?" Song Tuotian said: "Young lady, though you are still a little girl now, in another two years you will be a young woman. Though I am a few years older, I am more than willing to be patient and attend upon you carefully. Young lady, please do not regard me as a stranger. Whatever you want — long things or short — I will provide it all. I only ask that you live with me wholeheartedly. You are an intelligent person, and besides, there is no book you have not read — you surely understand my meaning."

Rong Gu pretended not to understand: "Your intentions are locked in your own belly — how would I know them?" Song Tuotian said: "You are still young, perhaps you don't know. In two more years when you've grown, you will naturally understand." Rong Gu said: "Since that is how it is, let us wait two more years and speak of it then." Song Tuotian, seeing her speak so agreeably, set his mind at ease. But he feared she might pine for her parents and ruin her health, so he bought many fruits and pastries to coax her along. The boat drifted onward, avoiding the main waterways and deliberately taking the long way through the lake-marshes.

Before long, without quite realising it, they had drifted as far as Jiaxing. Song Tuotian, seeing they were now far from Huating County, finally relaxed. He thought to himself: "Staying on the boat like this cannot be a permanent arrangement. I must find a solid, settled place to stay." He thought for half a day, then suddenly remembered: "My aunt lives in Huzhou — why not go and find her, and have her locate a room to settle this little troublemaker, and then I can return? Would that not be a plan that keeps both people and property safe?" His mind made up, he told the boatmen to steer the boat out onto the main waterway toward Jiaxing and moor it outside the city. On one hand, being far from home, he felt bold and unguarded; on the other, seeing how young Rong Gu was, he did not watch her very closely. Exhausted from the days of travel, he went ashore and bought a great quantity of wine and meat, along with more fruits, and brought it all back to the boat to prepare a meal.

Before long the cooking was done. Song Tuotian first selected the best fish, the best meat, and the fruits, along with wine, and sent them into the cabin. Then he and his brothers sat down to eat. They drank from great bowls and wolfed down great chunks of meat, gorging themselves to their hearts' content, until the sun slipped behind the hills and the new moon first rose, and every one of them was thoroughly drunk and stuffed. Among the group was a man named Wu Liang who, in his drunken haze, fancied himself a man of culture. He stroked his upturned whiskers and squinted his bleary eyes across at Song Tuotian and said: "The other day you told us this little lady is incomparably clever and can compose poems on the spot. But all this time on the boat, I haven't heard a single word from her. I don't know whether she thinks we're too coarse and common for her to bother speaking to, or whether you were simply telling lies."

Song Tuotian grinned ingratiatingly: "My young lady is small and bashful — how could she display her talents in front of strangers? Her poetry is worth its weight in gold; who in Songjiang doesn't know that? That is precisely why your humble brother dared to aim so high. If it were mere empty reputation with nothing behind it, I would not have gone to all this trouble. If old brother wants to test our lady's poetic talent, this is a refined affair and cannot be rushed. Let me go and beg earnestly for one poem — what do you say?"

Wu Liang heard this and clapped his hands with delight: "If the young lady can compose a fine poem, we will drink three great cups each for every word she writes. Anyone who refuses to drink will face the fist." And he slammed a fist on the deck boards, nearly driving a hole through the planks. Song Tuotian quickly grinned and said: "Getting the young lady to write a poem is no great difficulty. But to write a poem one needs a subject, a topic, before anything can be composed. I only worry that our brothers here may not be able to come up with a suitable topic." The ruffians said: "Quite right, quite right. How can you write without a topic? That's trying to cook a meal without rice. Let us all put our minds to it and think up a good topic to test her, so she won't laugh at us for being country bumpkins."

Everyone clutched their wine bowls and thought for a good while, but nothing came to them. Then one of the ruffians walked to the prow of the boat to relieve himself, and happened to glance up at the curved new moon hanging in the sky. He slapped his hands together and shouted: "I've got it, I've got it!" Song Tuotian quickly called out: "What topic have you got?" The man pointed upward: "Right there — the new moon — is that not a wonderful subject?" Everyone was delighted: "Excellent, excellent!" Song Tuotian hurried into the cabin. Before he could even open his mouth, Rong Gu had already heard everything clearly. If she refused to comply, these drunken brutes might do something terrible. So she said: "The poem on the new moon — I have already composed it. Tell them to cup their ears and listen carefully. I will recite it now." Song Tuotian rushed out of the cabin and told the men. They heard Rong Gu's voice drifting softly from within the cabin as she began to recite:

First poem:

The new moon is like an arched eyebrow —

How can it not follow where the eye rests?

Surely it cannot bear to look upon this scene,

And takes its solace in solitary sorrow.

Second poem:

The new moon is like a fine-toothed comb —

How can it not spread out these tangled locks?

But the clouded tresses resist its teeth,

And who will carry word to the dressing case?

Third poem:

The new moon is like a bent hook —

How can it not catch upon some longing?

Curve upon curve, bend upon bend —

How does one speak of reunion now?

When Rong Gu finished reciting the three moon poems, the men all craned their necks and puffed out their chests, pretending to be connoisseurs. They had listened to Rong Gu's voice as she delivered each word, each line, with a crisp, bright clarity. Together they burst into applause: "Truly the young lady is vastly talented! Never mind the flavour of what she's written — just the sound of her voice reciting it, so delicate and lovely, surpasses even the orioles and swallows by three parts. The stories about her are no exaggeration!" Song Tuotian said: "The young lady has done her poem — what about your wine?" The ruffians said: "What about it? A true man keeps his word — even if we drink ourselves to death, we will not go back on what we said." And so they filled up the great bowls, one after another, drinking without pause. They poured a bowl for Song Tuotian as well: "You have such great fortune — are you going to sit there and not drink?" Song Tuotian was in the highest of spirits and drank to his fill. They drank until every man of them was dead drunk, slumped this way and that, and knew nothing more of the world around them. By this time the night was already well past the first watch.

Now, as for Rong Gu — from the moment she had been seized and brought onto the boat, she had thought to herself: "Having been taken by these brigands, there is little hope of escaping their clutches. Though I am safe for now due to my young age, as I grow older I will inevitably be harmed. And if I am to be harmed in the end, would it not be cleaner to die today?" And so she repeatedly contemplated throwing herself into the water. But then the thought of her parents would come to her, and she could not hold back her weeping. Then she would think again: "No — that is wrong. I have read of remarkable women of old who met with misfortune, and yet in the midst of hardship and wandering were able to keep clear of harm and preserve themselves whole. That is why they were called remarkable. If I only know how to choose death in the face of danger, what is remarkable about that? Moreover, these bandits are all common, low-bred men — they are unlikely to cause me the gravest harm. Better to please them for now and watch for the right moment to act."

And then on this very night, the sight of these bandits wallowing in drunken stupidity fell before her eyes. She thought quietly to herself: "These brigands are sunk deep in their stupor — though they breathe, they might as well be dead. And they have not the slightest guard up. If I do not run now, when will I ever? If Heaven is merciful and I can slip away in this moment, and if I should meet some good person who will hear of my suffering and send me home — who can say it could not happen?" Her mind was made up. She wrapped her clothing tightly about her, quietly pushed open the cabin door, and looked: every bandit was snoring like thunder. The boat was not far from the bank. Rong Gu lightly stepped out of the boat and leapt ashore. Not a single one of them stirred. She did not stop to think of life or death, but ran along the riverside as fast as she could go.

As she was making her way, she suddenly heard in the far distance the sound of music drifting toward her on the water — an official's boat, coming ever closer. Rong Gu was just about to find somewhere to hide, but the bank was high and the foreshore broad — there was nowhere to conceal herself. She had no choice but to stand at the water's edge. As the official boat drew near, the many boatmen standing on deck saw, in the faint light of the lingering moon, the shadow of a figure standing alone by the river. They said to one another: "This is the middle of the night, and there are no houses anywhere nearby — why would someone be standing at the water's edge? It must be someone meaning to throw themselves in the river." They called out: "Is the person on the bank thinking of drowning themselves?"

Rong Gu did not answer, but only wept softly. The boatmen, hearing her cry, were all the more certain. They said to one another: "To save a life is a deed of merit." But the large boat could not come to the bank, so they lowered a skiff and rowed quickly over. Coming close, they saw it was a girl of about ten years. They were astonished and asked: "What wrong has been done to you, that you should come to this? Has a stepmother mistreated you, or has an enemy framed you? If you have truly suffered an injustice, I will bring you before our lord and beg him to redress your grievance." Rong Gu only wept, choked with grief and unable to speak.

Seeing how bitterly she cried, and how young she was, the men felt a great pity for her. They said to each other: "This girl must have some great and terrible wrong in her heart, something she cannot easily put into words before others. Let us do a good deed and take her aboard — it is better than burning incense and chanting prayers." So they helped her into the skiff, and then up onto the great boat. By then the lord and his lady were both asleep, and it would not do to disturb them, so Rong Gu was brought to the stern of the boat.

The stern matron, seeing she was delicate and refined-looking, knew at once she was a child of good family. She gave her something to eat and then settled her to sleep in the stern cabin. The official boat travelled on through the night — of this no more need be said.

As for the ruffians, they slept until the sky was bright and broad daylight before stirring and making ready to cast off. Song Tuotian peered into the cabin — and found it bare and empty, with nothing but a blanket lying there, not a trace of a person to be seen! Song Tuotian was so startled his wits nearly left him. He shouted: "Where has the young lady gone?" He rushed to the stern and looked — also empty. He began to wail aloud: "It is over! She must have thrown herself into the water and drowned. After all the risk I took, all the trouble and expense, all my hopes of a life together as man and wife — to think she died harbouring a grievance against me!" The ruffians, assuming she was dead, tried to console him. Song Tuotian immediately called on everyone to drag the river in every direction — but there was no trace of her anywhere. After much chaos and uproar, there was nothing to be done, and they gave up and turned back. Of this no more need be said.

Now as for Rong Gu — she slept that night at the stern of the official boat. And who, one might ask, was this official? He was none other than the Prefect of Hangzhou, surnamed Feng and named Yi, who had been summoned to the capital from his post in Hangzhou, passing through Jiaxing on his way. The hour being late, the boat had moored for the night. Come morning, since they were still within the borders of Zhejiang, there were acquaintances among the local officials to receive and send him off, and Feng Yi had spent half the day in these courtesies. It was not until the afternoon that he found himself at leisure. A servant came forward and reported: "Your humble servant rescued a small girl last night from the riverbank — she appeared to be on the verge of throwing herself into the water. I bring this to Your Honour's notice." Feng Yi said: "A little girl throwing herself into the water? Have her come and see me." The servant went to fetch the girl.

Rong Gu walked in and stood to one side. Feng Yi saw that although the girl was still young, she was beautiful in face and bearing, a graceful, winsome figure. He asked: "You are so young — what could have driven you to take such a drastic step? Tell me clearly, and I will resolve it for you." Rong Gu, hearing herself addressed, had no choice but to kneel down and say, with tears streaming down her face: "This suffering girl is only eleven years old. My father has only me, his single daughter. Simply because I had some small acquaintance with letters and writing, I became the object of another man's obsession. My father in selecting my future husband was overly careful, and in refusing proposals too strict. A violent man, knowing he had no legitimate chance, plotted to abduct me by force. In one moment I fell into a den of tigers, living side by side with death. Yesterday, fortunately, the power of the written word loosened my bonds by a thread, and the power of the wine god bound the villains fast, so I was able to escape from the riverbank and flee death. I hoped to find the aid of a righteous person. It is my great fortune to have fallen under the protection of Your Honour, and to be able to lay out in detail the evils of those wicked men. Having been rescued and lifted up, your benevolence cannot be effaced. If I am allowed to return home, your grace will be as great as giving me a second life."

Feng Yi was impressed by the orderly way she expressed herself, and by her composed and unhurried manner. He was greatly pleased. He told her to rise, and asked with a smile: "You say you have some small acquaintance with letters and writing — that, though a modest phrase, is still rather a broad claim. But let that pass. You also said the power of the written word loosened your bonds by a thread — that is a very precise statement, and there must be something specific behind it. Tell me in full." Rong Gu said: "While your humble girl was held captive on the boat by the bandits under close watch, they called on me yesterday to write a poem on 'The New Moon.' I at once chanted three poems aloud from memory. The ruffians, though they understood nothing of poetry, were astonished that I had composed the verses on the spot, and were so delighted and excited that they fell to drinking heavily and ceased to watch me closely. And so I was able to escape. That is what I meant by saying the written word loosened my bonds by a thread." Feng Yi said: "Can that truly be so?" Rong Gu said: "How would I dare to lie before Your Honour?" Feng Yi said: "Since you did not lie, then recite those new moon poems to me."

Rong Gu proceeded to recite the three poems again, each word ringing clear and bright. Feng Yi listened, astonished and delighted, and said: "Though these three poems are about the new moon, they subtly convey the sorrow of a person in distress — capturing perfectly the spirit of the ancient poets. For a small girl to be capable of such work — is she not truly a gifted poetess? And yet I am still not quite convinced." Rong Gu said: "If Your Honour does not believe me, please set a topic yourself and test this unfortunate girl. The truth or falsehood of it will be immediately apparent." Feng Yi was greatly pleased: "The story of the two singing girls at the Qi Pavilion has been passed down as a tale of a thousand autumns. If I set you a poem topic today and you can compose a verse in a moment, then a tale of a thousand autumns shall surpass even the Qi Pavilion."

He had a servant bring the four treasures of the scholar's desk, and with his own hand wrote out a poem title on the paper, then handed it to the girl: "You are a daughter of a good family — you are like a flower on a branch. Now that an evil man has abducted you, you drift here adrift and far from home, just like a petal blown loose. I feel a great pity for you. Therefore I give you the two words 'Flying Petals' as your title. Do not be flustered; compose at your own pace and let me see. If the result shows anything of merit, I will make arrangements for you."

Rong Gu took the poem title in hand, took up the four treasures of the scholar's desk, and without either ceremony of modesty or false hesitation, let her brush move freely and wrote out a five-character regulated verse, which she presented with both hands. Feng Yi, seeing her take up the brush and write without a moment's pause or reflection, as though composing something she had long since prepared, was still in the midst of his astonishment when the poem was already done and before him. He could not help his great delight and wonder. He took it and quickly unrolled it. He read:

Flying Petals

Once I held my rightful place upon the bough;

Now, pitied by none, I drift from west to east.

These eyes are lost amid unfamiliar furnishings;

My heart breaks for the old window-lattice and screen.

Each gust of wind, a thin and empty fragrance;

Each drift through air, a shadow faint and red.

Having met with a fate that granted no fair meeting,

Why spend such effort on the works of spring?

Feng Yi finished reading, and cried out in great astonishment and delight: "So it is true — she is a gifted poetess! How can one so young possess such a luminous and sensitive mind? A true talent indeed! I have been remiss in my judgement." He quickly asked her to be seated. Rong Gu said: "This suffering girl, cast adrift and arrived here, is already beyond all hope that Your Honour would not rebuke me — it is more than ten thousand blessings. How could I presume to take a seat in the presence of one who stands as father and mother to all the world?" Feng Yi smiled: "One who stands alone is already to be pitied; one in distress even more so deserves compassion. And beyond that, genuine talent is not easily born into the world — how could I let worldly convention bend a rare person? Please sit down. I have more to discuss with you." Rong Gu had to accept and sit.

Feng Yi then said to his wife: "I observe this girl's character to be warm and unhurried, and her talent to surpass that of the ancients. I am greatly fond of her. Besides, you and I are nearing fifty years of age, and we have no one at our knee. I would like to adopt her as a daughter, raise her until she comes of age, and then find her an excellent husband, so that we may have some happiness in our later years and break the silence and solitude. Would you not prefer that to being alone and childless? I do not know what you, my lady, think of this." Lady Wang said: "I was thinking the very same thing. Your Honour's judgement is quite right." Feng Yi was overjoyed, and turned to Rong Gu and said: "The words I exchanged with my lady — did you hear them?" Rong Gu said: "The heaven-high and earth-deep kindness of Your Honour and the Lady — I heard every word of it clearly." Feng Yi said: "Since you heard, are you willing to bow to this arrangement?"

Rong Gu, though her thoughts were with her parents, was in the midst of misfortune and could not fully follow her own heart. She said: "This suffering girl had given herself up for lost; that I have not been lost is entirely thanks to the grace with which Your Honour and the Lady pulled me free. I am already full to overflowing with gratitude. To then be taken to your knee and brought up — this is more than rebirth itself. Though I am unworthy, dare I not attend upon you morning and evening and express even a fraction of what this bond means?" Feng Yi and his lady heard this and were utterly delighted: "Since you willingly comply, you may kneel and pay your respects here and now." Rong Gu straightway prostrated herself and made eight bows. Feng Yi and his lady received four of the bows and returned four deep bows of courtesy.

When the ceremony was complete, Rong Gu said: "In taking a humble family's daughter into a great household, I will surely prove inadequate in many ways. In the future, if I err or transgress, I beg that my father and mother will correct and instruct me." Feng Yi and his lady were overjoyed, and gave her a new name: Caiwen. They then instructed all the household — servants, women, maids — to come and pay their respects to the young lady, and from that point on she was to be addressed as Young Lady Caiwen. Lady Wang took her into the inner cabin to make arrangements for her, and brought out many silk garments to dress her in fresh clothing. In one moment Rong Gu rose from the ground all the way to the heavens. Truly:

Caged in the bandit's boat, she was all but dead;

Escaped to the riverside, she was not yet truly alive.

Then in one instant, wrapped in gold and jade —

Where in all this world shall one seek to read her fate?

After Feng Yi and Lady Wang had Caiwen with them, they spent their days aboard the boat happily whiling away the time with her. When they came upon a fine landscape, sometimes they would ask her to compose a poem, and she would produce a lovely line. Sometimes they would ask her to match a couplet. When the young lady was in high spirits, she might play a piece on the qin; when she felt the itch of her abilities, she might paint a landscape or two. Feng Yi and his lady would listen or look on, and there was no shortage of delight. So they came to cherish Young Lady Caiwen as a treasure. Along the way, wherever there was a famous beauty spot, they would make a detour to take her to see it. And so they lingered and wandered, and after a long while finally arrived at their home in Linqing. The household, great and small, all came out to kowtow and pay respects to the lord, the lady, and the young lady. Feng Yi made his arrangements one by one. Before long, relatives and friends who had heard of Feng Yi's return came to pay their respects. Among them was Tang Xiyao, the man who had adopted Changguyao as his son — he happened to be Feng Yi's cousin, and also came to offer his greetings.

The next day, Feng Yi had no choice but to go and return Tang Xiyao's call. They met, and Tang Xiyao immediately insisted on keeping him for wine. In the course of drinking, he had his son Tang Chang come out to pay his respects. After the greeting, he asked him to sit beside them at the table. Feng Yi looked at Tang Chang, and saw that the boy was remarkably handsome and fine-looking. He fixed his gaze on him and kept looking. Tang Xiyao laughed: "Old cousin, why do you stare so fixedly at my nephew?" Feng Yi said: "We have not been apart so long, yet old cousin already has such a fine son — I confess I don't quite follow." Tang Xiyao said: "What is hard to follow? Has old cousin not heard that knowledge of medicine can increase one's descendants?" Feng Yi laughed: "Knowledge of medicine increasing descendants may sometimes occur. But I have never heard of one appearing within a single year, growing this quickly. There must be some excellent remedy for nurturing growth and hastening maturity which you are keeping to yourself. This excellent remedy — your humble cousin has actually employed it as well, though I confess I don't know whose marvellous medicine I took."

Tang Xiyao heard this and burst into laughter: "This excellent remedy and marvellous medicine — since old cousin has also used and taken it, I suppose nothing can be hidden from you. I may as well tell the truth." And he related in full the story of the adoption. Feng Yi in turn related in full the story of his adopted daughter. When both had finished, they both laughed heartily for a long while. Feng Yi then asked: "My young nephew is of a fine and gifted appearance — what books is he currently studying?" Tang Xiyao said: "Fortunately the boy is naturally exceptional, and takes to any book he reads at once. But I do not know how thorough his understanding is. Old cousin may as well put him to the test."

Feng Yi proceeded to question Tang Chang on poetry and the classics and the principles behind them, and to his complete surprise Tang Chang answered fluently and without pause. Feng Yi could not help an exclamation of astonishment: "Most remarkable, most remarkable!" He then asked: "Since my young nephew is so clever, can you compose poetry as well?" Tang Chang said: "Without learning poetry, there is no proper speech — I have muddled through and composed a few pieces." Feng Yi said: "Since you can write poetry, let me put you to the test. The other day when your little cousin first arrived at my home, she also claimed she could write poetry. I pitied her for being so young and small, and for having drifted here in distress, so I gave her the topic of 'Flying Petals' and asked her to compose a verse. She showed considerable talent — she picked up her brush and wrote it at once, graceful and full of feeling, quite impressive. Since my young nephew thinks highly of yourself, can you compose a matching verse?" Tang Chang said: "I beg to see my little cousin's original poem."

Feng Yi called for paper and brush and wrote it out for him. Tang Chang took it, read it, and said, at once astonished and delighted: "So my little cousin is a gifted poetess. Though I am ashamed to follow so excellent an original, my admiration will not be stilled, and I must risk making a fool of myself. The rhyme scheme is a close one, but I can only match it in the manner of paired mandarin ducks." And he took up his brush, composed himself, wrote out a matching verse at an unhurried pace, and presented it to Feng Yi. Feng Yi took it and read:

On the tree, spring found its finest craft;

But once the branch is left, spring works still finer art.

Imagine it pinned to a cloud-dark coil of hair —

Yet without a touch of red upon the water-pale lip.

In soft rain it peeks between the neighbour's walls;

On a gentle breeze it drifts through far pavilion screens.

Lament not the heart that wanders and is lost —

Even the Great Sage was swept east upon the tide.

Feng Yi read it once through, then read it again, and with undisguised delight on his face said: "A fine poem, a fine poem! How has he made it so elegant and lovely, a match for the original in every way!" He then said to Tang Xiyao: "This son is no ordinary boy. His achievements in the years ahead will surpass even this old man's. Truly the fortune of my younger cousin!" Tang Xiyao was full of joy to hear it. They drank on in high spirits until they were deeply content, and then at last they parted.

Feng Yi returned home, and his lady and young daughter came to receive him. Feng Yi said to the young lady: "That poem of yours on 'Flying Petals' which you wrote the other day — I thought it quite a unique composition. But then your Tang cousin, Tang Chang, went and wrote a matching verse for it in the same rhyme scheme, and here it is: graceful and beautiful, not inferior to yours in the least. Take it and read it — what do you make of it?" He drew it from his sleeve and handed it to Caiwen. Caiwen took it and read it, and could not help an expression of astonishment and delight: "This poem carries hidden meaning within its words, and plays with feeling beyond the lines, capturing perfectly the spirit of the ancient poets. Reading the two poems together several times, I feel your daughter must truly hang her head in comparison." From that day forward, the image of Tang Chang settled quietly in Caiwen's heart. But of that no more need be said for now.

It is further told that Feng Yi remained at home for several more days, but then, fearing he would overstay the imperial summons, had no choice but to bid farewell to his lady and young daughter and set off through the night for the capital to report his return. And it was because of this departure that something came about:

Dim and deep, still and quiet,

In a world of silences and secrets —

What came to pass thereafter?

Read the next chapter to find out.