Chapter One: A Rainy Day

Outside the window the rain was coming down merrily. While waiting for his servants to brew the tea, Lu Jing once again picked up his Yuezhou celadon tea bowl and poured himself a bowlful of jiang, the fermented grain drink. His attendants had long since stopped finding this strange and no longer tried to stop him.

A little over a year ago, Lu Jing had made a special trip to the West Market of Chang'an to buy glassware from the Hu merchants. On the way back, dark clouds had suddenly gathered and a downpour came without warning. His servants, worried that his frail constitution could not withstand pressing on through wind and rain, halted the carriage and stepped into a kiln yard to ask whether their young master might shelter there. The kiln master took one look at the torrential rain outside — truly astonishing in its force — and agreed at once without a second word, even lending them several umbrellas.

From the ornate carriage outside the kiln stepped a young gentleman of noble bearing, dressed in a moon-white round-collared robe. Even in the pounding rain, nothing diminished the refined, unhurried elegance of his gait beneath the umbrella.

Two household servants held umbrellas over him, terrified that the rain might splash him, shielding him closely the whole way. Once inside, upon seeing Zhang Ping, Lu Jing bowed respectfully. "My thanks to the master of this house for allowing us shelter. This humble person is Lu Jing, styled Zihe, seventh of my generation."

Zhang Ping, the kiln master, saw that the young gentleman before him was impeccably courteous and strikingly refined in manner. Looking more closely, he noticed that the robe, plain though it appeared, was of a fabric light, soft and finely woven — clearly no ordinary cloth. The young gentleman had given his surname as Lu, and with such attire besides — could he be of the Lu clan of Fanyang?

Zhang Ping was rather taken aback, but returned the courtesy at once. "You are too kind, my lord. It was no trouble at all, hardly worth mentioning. My name is Zhang Ping, third of my generation. My younger sister Zhang Ning and I fire funerary wares here at this kiln. The place is humble; if you do not find it beneath you, then rest easy here until the rain stops."

"We have already imposed upon you a great deal. We have nothing but sincere gratitude — how could we possibly find anything beneath us?"

That was the exchange at their first meeting. Recalling it now, he could not help the faint curve of his lips.

To think that a scion of the illustrious Lu clan of Fanyang should, by sheer chance, walk into a funerary-ware kiln in Liquan Ward — not for the wares at all, but simply to get out of the rain.

Zhang Ping brought out the jiang they drank every day and asked Lu Jing cautiously, "This is the jiang we drink to quench our thirst. I wonder whether you are thirsty, my lord — would you care for a few mouthfuls?"

"Why not. I have just been to the West Market, and I am indeed rather thirsty. Then I shall trouble Third Brother Zhang for a bowl of jiang."

Hearing this, Zhang Ping hurried to fetch a coarse pottery bowl, filled it eight-tenths full with jiang, and offered it to Lu Jing. Lu Jing was about to take it when a servant hastily stopped him.

"My lord, you must not. How could something so crude pass your lips?"

"It is merely something to quench thirst. What is crude about it?" Lu Jing was clearly displeased. He took the coarse bowl and sipped from it with elegance.

"Excellent, truly — it moistens the mouth and slakes the thirst." His eyes lit up.

Zhang Ping nodded, breaking into a smile, and invited Lu Jing to sit wherever he pleased. In the room stood a square table with long benches, round stools, and a few rattan chairs. Lu Jing chose the bench nearest the table, finding it convenient for setting his bowl down on the tabletop. His servant, understanding his intent, immediately made to wipe the bench with his sleeve — which displeased Lu Jing all over again.

"The seat is clean and free of dust. Why do that?" With that he waved the servant away, gave his robe a slight tug, and seated himself with perfect composure.

Just then Zhang Ning came out from the inner room carrying a tray with a pot of jiang and several coarse pottery bowls, meaning to distribute them among the servants. She set the tray down on the table first, then bowed to Lu Jing in greeting. Lowering her gaze, she saw that his shoes were soaked, and remembering what the servants had said earlier about their young master's poor health, she spoke up. "Your shoes are wet through with rain, my lord. Why not take off your shoes and stockings? A-Ning will light a brazier and set it under the awning in front of the house, so your attendants can dry them — otherwise you may catch a chill."

"No... that will not be necessary, surely? It would be far too improper." Lu Jing flushed slightly at her words.

"Where would we find so many rules around here? When the weather is hot, my brother fires the kiln stripped to the waist! Bare feet are nothing at all." Zhang Ning's tone was gentle and reassuring.

The servants heard this as though they had struck gold. In truth they had been worried too — wet shoes and stockings would easily give their young master a chill, and his constitution had always been fragile. He was not like them, lowly servants, sturdy of body and thick of hide. But propriety stood in the way; with the upbringing of the Lu clan of Fanyang, how could such casualness be permitted? So they had held their tongues, not daring to advise him. Now that the young lady had spoken, they hurried to add their agreement. "Just so, my lord. Take off your shoes and stockings at once. We shall dry them under the awning, and you may put them back on after."

And so, under the clamour of everyone's urging, Lu Jing finally nodded and let the servants remove his shoes and stockings. Zhang Ning not only lit a brazier but also brought a clean cloth for the servants to dry his feet with. Through the whole business Lu Jing kept his head lowered, the very picture of discomfort...

Yet the man he was now was perfectly at ease — more at ease, even, than in his own home.

Living within the Lu clan of Fanyang, he lacked for nothing; the only thing he lacked was ease. That was one reason he had come and gone from the kiln so often this past year and more.