Chapter 134 — The Autumn Hunt

Dou Yan felt that he had been worrying over nothing these past few days.

Ji Yong rose every day at the hour of the rabbit and did not rest until the hour of the pig. If he was not reading, he was writing; occasionally he would take a turn around the courtyard of Heshuo Hall, but he never once set foot outside its gate, let alone got himself into any trouble.

Or perhaps it was precisely because he took his studies so seriously that he had passed the provincial examination and earned the title of jieyuan at such a young age?

Dou Yan could only guess, and repeatedly instructed Suxin to pay close attention to Ji Yong's food, drink, and daily routine, to provide him with as comfortable an environment as possible—all of which would serve his prospects in the examinations.

Ji Yong soon noticed the change in his treatment and began making demands of Suxin: "I don't like chicken skin. From now on, when you roast a chicken, take all the skin off." Or else he would be provocative: "How can cabbage have a stalk?"

These were trifles, and Suxin indulged them one and all.

One day Ji Yong went off to Lingyan Temple, fanning himself as he walked.

Dou Yan was astonished.

Suxin said with a frown, "Young Master Ji says the Ghost Festival is nearly upon us, and he's going to discuss the Buddhist dharma with Abbot Tuyin."

Well, getting out for a bit of fresh air was all to the good!

Dou Xin said, "He still has the leisure for that?"

The little maid Dou Yan had sent to wait on Ji Yong, guileless and quick of tongue, blurted out, "Young Master Ji studies the dharma in his room every day. He says that at Yuquan Temple this time, he's bound to reduce Abbot Tuyin to silence and make him return to lay life and follow him!"

Make Abbot Tuyin return to lay life?

Dou Yan was dumbfounded. "Has he not been reading the Four Books and the Five Classics all these days?"

How was the little maid to tell the difference? She only knew that Ji Yong bent over his desk for several hours each day: "He's always muttering things like 'Om mani' and 'great freedom' and the like."

Dou Yan was furious. He instructed Suxin, "From now on, he eats whatever we eat. Is there such a thing as a skinless hen?"

Suxin was indignant too, feeling that Ji Yong had betrayed everyone's good intentions.

In the end, Ji Yong took up residence at Lingyan Temple. Word had it that he debated with Abbot Tuyin every day, drawing in the abbots of the nearby monasteries—Shengshou Temple, Sheli Temple, Chongyin Temple, Hongji Temple, and even the abbot of Dafang Temple in neighboring Lingbi County—until Lingyan Temple was as bustling as a temple fair. Whatever dishes the Dou household prepared made no difference to him at all.

Could this fellow really be Master Yuantong?

Dou Yan could not help but wonder.

Before he took his vows, he wanted to tempt other people's abbots into returning to lay life; once he had taken his own vows, he wanted to tempt the Emperor himself into doing the same. That was entirely in keeping with his character.

She only wondered who it was, in his previous life, who had made him take his vows.

Or perhaps it was simply that she did not know.

A troublemaker like him—surely the Ji family would have kept quiet about his affairs as well!

She received a letter from Chen Yanzhou.

In it he wrote that Ji Yong had been clever from childhood, reading ten lines at a glance, unmatched by anyone in Yixing, and known as a child prodigy from a tender age. The Ji family had placed great hopes in him, and so everyone high and low doted on him, and he had grown up to this day with fair winds all the way. If there was anything that set him apart from others, it was that he was especially mischievous. Other children at most climbed trees to raid birds' nests or waded into rivers to catch fish and shrimp; he, however, upon reading the Classic of Mountains and Seas, wanted to climb Mount Tiantai; after reading the Memorial on Dispatching the Troops, he wanted to build wooden oxen and flowing horses; and upon hearing the tale of Xu Fu leading five hundred boys and girls to Penglai in search of immortals, he set about refining elixirs at home—and nearly blew up the Ji household.

He was only nine years old then.

Old Master Ji could not bear to beat him, and scolding was no use. At his wit's end, he had no choice but to confine him to the house and make a three-part pact with Ji Yong: if only he could pass the imperial examination, afterward he might do whatever he pleased. But until he passed, he was to read, write, and pursue his studies in proper order at home, and go nowhere at all.

He agreed readily. It took him only three years to pass the provincial examination. He was still proud and haughty, but far more steady than before. Only then did Old Master Ji feel at ease letting him travel about with guards and servants—all so that he might see the joys and sorrows, the partings and reunions, of the mortal world, and come to have a compassionate heart...

Do whatever he pleased!

Dou Chiyou's forehead broke out in sweat.

Did Old Master Ji have any idea what kind of promise he had made to Ji Yong?

※※※※※

The news that Song Yan had beaten Dong Qi's pair of geese with a motley five spread swiftly through the capital.

When Lady Jiang entered Yizhi Hall, Song Yan was practicing archery.

His body was like a green pine, his hands like bedrock; drawing the arrow, bending the bow, loosing the shot—his movements were vigorous and forceful, all in one breath.

Lady Jiang could not help giving a little "oh," her gaze falling on the bow and arrows in her son's hands.

The body of the bow was black, archaic in style, and of a material impossible to identify; thick ox sinew was wound about its limbs, while the string was fine as a hair, glinting with a muted luster—one look was enough to tell that this bow was no ordinary thing.

"Why have you brought out the Sun-Shooter your eldest uncle gave you?" Her gaze swept over the bow, as though she were seeing the face of her departed brother, and her voice softened a little. "Didn't you always say this bow was too conspicuous?"

Song Yan drew a carved-feather arrow from the gold-traced quiver and, with a resonant twang, struck the bull's-eye. Only then did he slowly lower the bow and say softly, "This bow sits well in the hand... I must be sure of hitting whatever I aim at. With this bow I'm more certain!"

What did he mean, be sure of hitting whatever he aimed at?

Lady Jiang was slightly taken aback and was about to ask for details when she saw that Song Yan had already handed the bow to Chen Tao, who stood attending nearby, and taken the handkerchief Chen He offered him. Wiping his sweat, he said, "What brings you here? Are you feeling any better today?" Then he added, "Where's Tian'en? Didn't he say he was keeping you company? Why is there no sign of him?"

"I'm not so delicate as all that," said Lady Jiang. "I was merely overtired for a time. Now that I've taken Physician Yang's medicine and rested for these few days, I've long since recovered."

Song Yan helped Lady Jiang to a seat at the stone table beneath the old locust tree.

"Tian'en has gone to the school," said Lady Jiang, taking the tea her son had poured for her with his own hands and smiling brightly. "I'm not in any real danger—surely I can't let my own affairs hold up Tian'en's studies?" At this point, recalling the purpose of her visit, she could not help but show a hint of hesitation.

Song Dan looked at his mother and waited patiently for her to speak.

Lady Jiang turned it over in her mind again and again, then finally put it tactfully: "I heard that when Zhang Zongyao inherited the title of Heir, the Zhang family engaged the Guanglian Troupe to perform?"