Chapter 177 — Exchange
Purple Streets of Chang'an Page 2 of 2
As Wei Fan hesitated, Ji Yong's voice came to his ear: "Marquis, drink these three cups for me, would you?"
Ji Yong's collar hung half open. He leaned on one elbow against the black-lacquered side table inlaid with mother-of-pearl and ivory in the design of the Three Friends of Winter, looking altogether unequal to his wine.
Wei Fan's head buzzed, and his tongue grew thick: "I—I can't drink any more..."
Ji Yong's face darkened.
Once more Wei Fan cast a look of appeal at Wang Yu.
Wang Yu had drunk plenty himself and sat with his eyes closed, resting and enjoying the gentle kneading of his serving girl. He had no attention to spare for anyone else.
He Yu sighed inwardly.
What harm would it do you to drink?
At worst you pass out from the wine.
And it would be a fine way to sidestep Ji Yong's advances.
How had Fourth Miss Dou ever been promised to a man like this?
"Jianming," He Yu said, motioning to the performer beside him to pour his wine, "if you can't drink it, I'll take these three cups for you!" His tone was hearty, meant to rescue Wei Fan from his corner.
A moment ago Wei Fan had been cursing He Yu inwardly as a fellow versed in every vice of eating, drinking, whoring, and gambling; now he warmed to him at once, and the look he turned on him was full of gratitude.
But Zhao Zishu would have none of it. "Then I want someone to drink for me too." His gaze roved and came to rest on Gu Yu.
Gu Yu's face was like a peach blossom, touched with a certain languor, yet his eyes were clear as a spring.
Recalling the rumors of Gu Yu as the capital's young tyrant, Zhao Zishu felt a chill and hastily shifted his gaze to Wang Huaiqing, whose even temper made him seem all the more approachable. "Young Marquis, you must drink a cup for me later too!"
Wang Yu squinted his eyes half shut and chuckled.
The group talked and laughed and made merry for a long while, and in the end Wang Yu, He Yu, and Wei Fan each drank three cups.
Gu Yu watched coldly from the sidelines and found it all utterly pointless.
He rose to his bare feet and said, "Carry on, all of you. I'm going back first!"
Zhao Zishu could not help feeling uneasy.
But Wang Yu knew his temper and laughed. "Pay him no mind." Then he called his personal servant: "See Young Master Gu home."
Gu Yu waved a hand. "No need. It isn't as though I don't know the way." And he strode off.
In the summer wind, Wang Yu's laughing voice drifted faintly from behind him: "...he's still a child."
Gu Yu choked with rage. He was half minded to turn back and salvage his pride, but then he recalled Song Yan's words to him: "Before you do a thing, ask yourself whether it is truly what you want. If it is, then swallow whatever comes of it, and do not regret or blame yourself or rail at heaven and others. If it is not, then you are merely a clown capering for the world's mockery." He decided there was no need, and told the driver, "To the Ying Zhen Guo Estate."
The carriage raced all the way to the lane where the Ying Zhen Guo Estate stood.
The night patrols saw it coming and cleared the way.
In the dead of night, Gu Yu knocked at the eastern side gate of the Ying Zhen Guo Estate and was admitted without hindrance.
Song Yan had already retired. Hearing that Gu Yu had come, he threw on his clothes and rose, and received him in his own inner chamber.
"What's happened?" Song Yan asked anxiously. "Weren't you out with Wang Yu, entertaining the directors of the Ministry of Works?"
Gu Yu waved a hand and poured himself a cup of tea. "Nothing of any interest! I ran into He Wendao's youngest son and the nephew of Ji Song, the Vice Minister of Works—the new Hanlin graduate Ji Jianming. We all went on to Zhao Zishu's place to keep drinking. The Ji and Wei families are connected by marriage, and Ji Jianming calls himself the Marquis of Jining's brother-in-law. He poured wine down the Marquis's throat as if his life depended on it." Here he could not help complaining, "And that Wei Fan! Anyone would think he were some yokel who'd never seen the world. Ji Jianming forced wine on him and he dared not refuse, and got toyed with like a monkey at a fair. I was ashamed to be seen with him. Brother Tianci, this time you must tell me—why on earth do you favor Wei Fan? I look at the man and I can't find a single thing about him that stands out..."
Song Sui's expression shifted slightly. "What did you say? You took Wei Fan to Zhao Zishu's?"
Zhao Zishu was a fellow disciple of Zeng Chusheng, the head of the Guanglian Troupe. Zeng Chusheng had always made his living on the stage, but Zhao Zishu from time to time procured catamites for noble patrons with a taste for such things, and his reputation was none too clean.
He could not help exclaiming, "Who proposed going to Zhao Zishu's?"
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Sisters and brothers, with Guoguo's help I've finally gotten onto Weibo, and with Nana 2012ln's help I've finally sorted out my nickname. I still don't quite know how to use it, though—I'm getting the hang of it, so if I'm slow to follow people or respond, bear with me.
o(n_n)o~
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