The Heart Given to Brighten the Moon - Chapter 14

No one could be blamed for the fiasco of taking the wrong painting. If one looked closely, it was like a screaming match between market shrews once everyone had vented their frustration, the matter simply faded into nothingness. After all, Cai Xun was a Master of the Ink; he could not bring himself to lower his status and trade spit with a rogue like Shen Danxin.

However, it was true that he had deliberately sent her to deliver the painting. Thus, to save face, the old man tilted his nearly empty wine flagon and personally poured a cup for his still-fuming disciple. He smiled and said, “Your Master only had your best interests at heart, letting you go to Luanqi Palace to ‘open your wisdom.’ How about this: starting today, I shall officially begin your instruction. What do you say?”

Shen Danxin, chewing on a piece of pork rib, gave him a white-eyed glare. The old man pretended not to see it and continued, “Since Princess Hui praised your work, today wasn’t a total waste. At least you’ve brought some glory to your Master. What would you like for dinner?”

Shen Danxin didn’t dare mention the incident in the Imperial Garden; if Old Man Cai found out about that, no matter how much he favored her, he’d likely kick her out to “cleanse the house.” But this “One-Day Tour of Luanqi Palace” had not only ended in a narrow escape but had also left the “young beauty” seething with rage. That slap had been truly hard; Shen Danxin’s palm still tingled with a faint redness.

The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. Swallowing her last bite of rib, she demanded with a lion’s appetite: “West Lake Vinegar Fish! Jade Lion-Head Meatballs! Black Bone Chicken Ginseng Soup! Lotus Chicken! And Gourd-Shaped Eight-Treasure Duck! One of each!”

Cai Xun’s face went blank, his mouth twitching as his sparse goat-beard trembled. Shen Danxin let out a cold snort. “Hmph. Some ‘Seekless Taoist’ you are. Some ‘Master of the Ink’.”

Master Cai truly possessed the poise of a grandmaster. He calmly drained his cup, his face returning to its tranquil state. “Worry not, disciple. In the future, your Master shall never ask you to deliver a painting again.”

The master and disciple, each harboring their own secret schemes, drank together in apparent harmony.

The next day brought a heavy snowfall, even thicker than the day Shen Danxin fell into the lake. The night before, a young attendant had brought over a charcoal brazier. Shen Danxin, holding a copy of The Hundred Schools of Ink carefully chosen for her by Cai Xun, stared blankly at the glowing red embers of the charcoal.

The thirty-six guest rooms in the rear courtyard were each larger than Song Mingyue’s dilapidated shack; the width alone was thirteen paces. Washbasins, bookshelves, wardrobes, tea tables, high-backed chairs, and desks everything was provided. The window frames were sealed with thick hemp paper, making them airtight. It was nothing like Song Mingyue’s broken window less than a foot wide, which let in rain in the summer and snow in the winter.

The view outside was no longer a tiny courtyard at the bottom of a well; it was a vast, colorful expanse. Up close, one could see rockeries and ponds; in the distance, misty mountains. Yet, that small, slender figure was no longer busy in the courtyard. Shen Danxin sighed and kicked the brazier a little further away.

Inside, the room was warm as spring, yet Shen Danxin did not sleep soundly. Without her to warm the bed, could Song Mingyue sleep peacefully?

Shen Danxin was drifting in a daze when a harsh, grating sound erupted outside the door. It sounded like a thousand-year-old corpse jolting awake from its deathbed. Alas, she was but a mortal; the moment she sat up, a shiver ran through her, and she collapsed back into the warmth of her bed.

The grating sound persisted. Finally unable to endure it, Shen Danxin threw on a thick cotton coat and rolled out of bed, muttering, “Song Mingyue, what are you doing so early in the morning?”

Having just pulled on her boots, Shen Danxin froze. She looked around the room. This wasn’t the servants’ quarters. After another long silence, she stood up dejectedly and walked outside.

Opening the door, a bone-chilling wind rushed into her sleeves. Shen Danxin slammed the door shut, tied her coat-strings tight, and opened it again. With her neck tucked and her hands shoved into her sleeves, she exhaled a cloud of white mist. She first greeted the young attendants clearing the snow, then looked down at her feet; the snow was nearly deep enough to reach her calves.

Such a heavy snow? Did the beauty freeze to death last night?

Shen Danxin looked at the gloomy sky, shook her head, and prepared to go back inside. An attendant leaning on a shovel wiped sweat from his forehead and grinned at her. “Master Shen, Master Cai is calling you for breakfast.”

Shen Danxin spared a lazy glance at the culprit of the grating noise, gave a yawn, and asked, “What time is it?”

“A quarter past the Hour of the Dragon [approx. 7:15 AM].”

Shen Danxin spent a long time counting on her fingers before waving a hand. “Not eating!” As she turned back into her room, she added a reminder: “Keep the noise down, don’t disturb this Master’s dreams!”

Bam! The door slammed shut again.

The young attendant rubbed his nose. Suddenly looking as if he’d found a treasure, he beckoned to his companions and pointed at Shen Danxin’s door. A moment later, they burst into laughter. Most of them were speculating that Master Shen must have been tormented quite ruthlessly by Princess Hui yesterday.

Unaware that she had been dubbed a “hero who could walk out of Luanqi Palace alive,” Shen Danxin flopped face-down onto her bed. After a moment of moping, she flipped over, tugged at the binding cloth tight across her chest, and let out a melancholy sigh.

“My ‘buns’ are going to turn into flat pancakes. Sigh—”

At lunchtime, an attendant knocked again. Shen Danxin poked her head out from under the quilts and shouted, “Who is it?”

“Master Cai has prepared Gourd Eight-Treasure Duck; he is waiting for you to eat.” The attendant’s voice trailed off with a hint of pure envy.

“Coming right now!” Shen Danxin snapped awake. She hurriedly smoothed her clothes and stepped out.

Among the thirty-six rooms, the one in the center had the best view and the best “feng shui,” naturally belonging to Master Cai. Master Meng lived five rooms down to the left, Master Yan seven rooms down to the right, and Shen Danxin’s room was five more past his. As for why the three masters lived in the palace, one would have to ask why the three old men had never married.

Back when she was still doing chores, Shen Danxin her hands trembling from the cold while wiping tables had once asked Cai Xun out of spite. He had ignored her, so she teased: “Could it be that women would slow down your brush-speed?” After that, the old Cai had chased her from the main hall all the way to the rear courtyard.

Master Cai’s room was quite sophisticated. Two guest rooms had been knocked through to create a spacious, bright studio. Everything from the bed to the tables and windows was made of expensive rosewood. On the desk, brushes made of wolf and goat hair were arranged from thick to thin, looking like an awe-inspiring array of legendary weapons.

Shen Danxin didn’t care for any of that. She entered and immediately eyed the brilliantly colored Eight-Treasure Duck on the table, then glanced at the three Ink-Masters sitting there and curled her lip.

Yu Mengren snorted. “I wondered why Old Cai was willing to spend so much; it turns out it was for this boy.”

The ever-genial Yan Mengqing tried to smooth things over. “Haha, it’s been a while since we all drank together. I remember Old Cai hosted the last time as well.”

Cai Xun didn’t respond, merely taking a small sip of his wine. Shen Danxin couldn’t stand seeing Old Man Cai acting so passive. Before she was his disciple it was one thing, but now he was her Master. Adhering to the principle of “not attacking unless attacked,” she retorted, “My Master has prepared a feast for his disciple, a gesture I shall keep in my heart. My Master and the two of you are friends and colleagues, after all. Master Yan was kind enough to gift me a wolf-hair brush, but some people don’t pull out a single hair one can clearly see the ‘depth’ of their generosity.”

Cai Xun still said nothing, taking another sip of wine with an expressionless face.

It was the first time Master Meng had been insulted so pointedly. He looked at the bold Shen Danxin with a dark gaze, then laughed instead of becoming angry. “This old man will gift you the Green Dragon Inkstone bestowed by His Majesty. Do you dare take it?”

Shen Danxin’s mouth was full of duck, so she couldn’t respond. Yan Mengqing hurriedly intervened. “Old Meng, you mustn’t! That inkstone.”

Just as Shen Danxin managed to raise a hand to accept, Cai Xun who had been watching silently gave her a sharp glare. Shen Danxin tucked her neck, wiped the grease from her mouth, and grinned. “I’m full. You Three Masters carry on, carry on.” With that, she slipped away.

Shen Danxin trotted all the way to the side gate of the Qingmo Academy. Fortunately, it was wide open today to facilitate snow clearing. She looked around, then crept toward the Scholars’ Academy next door. Song Mingjue, who had been waiting at the base of the rear wall for a long time, was stomping his feet and blowing into his cupped hands.

“Am I late?” Shen Danxin asked as she approached.

Song Mingjue rubbed his frozen cheeks and offered a smile. “My sister hasn’t arrived yet, but if you’d come any later, I can’t say how my health would have fared.”

Shen Danxin generously put an arm around his shoulder to shield him from the cold, whispering, “Come, let’s talk inside.”

The gesture was a bit too intimate, but since she was currently in the guise of a man, it wasn’t a major issue. Song Mingjue was stunned for a moment; feeling a wave of warmth, he didn’t pay it much mind and led her through a shortcut to the storage room.

Song Mingjue didn’t follow her inside. Standing at the door, he said, “Wait here. If you get cold, I’ve hidden a small quilt in the middle shelf of the cabinet. My sister should be here soon; I’ll go check the front courtyard.”

As he turned to leave, Shen Danxin shouted after him, “Wait! I have to ask, how was your sister’s mood when she got back yesterday?”

Song Mingjue frowned and thought for a moment, looking worried. “The injury on her face is alright, but as for her mood… she was her usual self. I couldn’t tell.” Before Shen Danxin could relax, he added, “But my sister is always like that. No matter how much she suffers, she rarely shows it. So, you’d better be careful.”

Shen Danxin’s mind went blank. Only one thought remained: I’m doomed, I’m doomed…

When Song Mingyue arrived, her shoes were soaked with snow-water, leaving a trail of wet footprints. The “five-finger mountain” on her face had faded significantly, leaving only a faint redness that merged with the flush brought on by the cold wind.

She wasn’t surprised to see the person standing foolishly in the storage room; she had guessed it the moment Mingjue said someone was waiting for her. Out of consideration for her brother’s efforts, she hadn’t immediately turned and left, which was already a grand gesture of mercy. But this person just stood there staring at her like a moron without saying a word, causing her remaining patience to evaporate.

“If you have something to say, say it. If you have gas to pass, pass it. The sun is out today, and I’m in a hurry to go back and wash the quilts.” Song Mingyue lied through her teeth; clearly, her anger had not yet subsided.

“You” Shen Danxin reached out a slender finger, pointing at her cheek, and asked cautiously: “Does it still hurt?”

“It doesn’t!” The young beauty barked back fiercely.

Stubborn! Shen Danxin curled her lip and said, “I have some excellent ointment from the Medical Bureau; I’ll go fetch it for you.”

“Do you think you haven’t caused enough of a scene? Are you itching for people to see you?” Not only had her anger not subsided, but she had apparently saved it up all night just for this moment.