Chapter 481: A Scene of Song and Dance

At Chang Qingyun’s command, five or six young servants in blue robes and small caps came forward to pour wine. Suo Pu’s sharp eyes noticed the charcoal stoves on the outer corridor, heating tin pots of wine. It was likely the popular Jinhua wine, a favorite in official and wealthy circles. The General Office had procured a special supply from Jiangnan; its taste was similar to yellow wine.

However, what was most eye-catching were the gleaming glass bottles on the plates: Guoshi Wushuang (Peerless Scholar).

This type of white liquor had been highly favored since its introduction. It wasn’t that the Ming Dynasty lacked distilled spirits, but without exception, they were full of impurities and went to one’s head easily, making them unpopular among scholar-officials and the wealthy. Guoshi Wushuang, on the other hand, used modern distillation and blending techniques. It was high in purity, had a rich aroma, was smooth on the palate, had a pure taste, and didn’t easily cause hangovers. Coupled with the crystal-clear glass bottles, it drove connoisseurs wild. Through the exchange of gifts among officials, its fame quickly spread beyond Guangdong, becoming a specialty of Guangzhou. It was not only consumed in large quantities locally but also exported to Jiangnan and the capital. Traces of this wine could even be found in the homes of the Jurchen nobility in Liaodong. Although the Guangzhou station had expanded the distillery’s production capacity several dozen times, the wine was still hard to find on the market. The black market price was already more than ten times the original price.

A quick glance revealed more than a dozen bottles of “Guoshi Wushuang” on the tables, with likely more on the corridor. The Viceroy’s yamen was indeed generous, as expected of a high-ranking official of his stature!

“Have some wine,” Chang Qingyun urged hospitably. Suo Pu and his companions, being wary, dared not drink much, only taking small sips. Fearing he would make a slip of the tongue, Suo Pu also refrained from speaking much. Seeing the atmosphere was a bit dull, Chang Qingyun gave a signal. A retainer named Mei Lun, who specialized in enlivening parties at the Viceroy’s residence, understood immediately. He stood up and said with a smile:

“It’s always boring to just sit and drink.” He was very straightforward, rolling up his sleeves to pour wine for everyone. “Why don’t we listen to a few new songs…”

He then ordered, “Have the singers come up!”

Two singers entered from the corridor. They were both young boys of fifteen or sixteen, with delicate, jade-like features. They entered, knelt, and kowtowed, then stood to the side with their legs together. Mei Lun smiled. “We have a distinguished guest from Nanjing here today. Sing your best songs first.”

The two boys quickly complied. One played the qin and the other the pipa, and they sang a set of songs. Although Suo Pu could now understand the Nanjing-based Mandarin, the melody of the songs was not in the Jianghuai Mandarin dialect, nor did it resemble the modern Cantonese opera or Kunshan opera styles. He felt as if he were lost in a fog, only able to catch a few words and phrases. Lin Ming and Xie Peng, however, listened with rapt attention. Judging from the reactions of the others, the performance was likely quite good.

When the song ended, everyone applauded. Mei Lun smiled. “Indeed.” He rewarded them with a cup of leftover osmanthus tea from the table. “Drink this, then pick another familiar song to entertain the masters.”

The two accepted, drank the tea, wiped their mouths with a handkerchief, and began to play the pipa again, singing a set of “Shānpō Yáng” (Mountain Slope Sheep) tunes. Everyone in the audience cheered, and the atmosphere became more lively. Suo Pu, however, didn’t know what was so good about it and remained silent. Chang Qingyun saw this and already understood most of the situation.

“These are truly rare treasures on earth,” an old man said, looking lecherously at the two boy singers. “Their singing could truly split stones…”

“You don’t know their true charm. These two boys were bought by General Feihuang from Fujian to serve the Governor,” Chang Qingyun said with a smile. “You all know the General’s style. What a pity his great ambitions were cut short by the short-hair bandits.”

At the mention of “short-hair bandits”, although Suo Pu feigned indifference, a look of concentration appeared on his face. Chang Qingyun nodded slightly. So that’s it!

Another secretary laughed. “What charm? Mr. Mei, please do tell.”

Mei Lun, however, said, “The Buddha says: it cannot be spoken, it cannot be spoken. As for what Mr. Xianhe just called ‘treasures,’ you should think about it yourself…”

The men at the table roared with laughter. Suo Pu was very confused, not knowing what was so funny.

This Mr. Xianhe, though his hair was gray, was very lively. He laughed. “Drinking is getting boring. I think Mr. Mei’s ‘treasure’ would make a good first line for a couplet. Let’s play a couplet game to liven things up!”

“A ‘treasure’ is easy to match,” said a secretary, looking askance at the two boy singers. “‘Catamite’ would be it.”

As soon as he spoke, the whole table erupted in laughter. The two boy singers blushed with shame, feigning annoyance. “The masters are always teasing us.” But they came over, with long sleeves and slender hands, to pour wine and serve dishes for the guests. The guests had all become animated by now. Some were joking lewdly with the boys, some were groping them, and some even pulled them into their laps, insisting on a “skin cup”… The boys were well-practiced in these games, responding with charming smiles, coy protests, and coaxing the men to drink. Some even sat on laps, pulling beards and ears to pour wine. For a time, cups clinked and laughter flowed. Suo Pu dared not drink more than a sip, just playing along.

Lin Ming, having been wounded, did not drink wine, only tea, and ate light dishes. Seeing Mr. Xianhe holding onto a boy, he knew the man must have a preference for men and just smiled. But then he saw the boy swaying his hips as he approached Suo Pu to offer a toast. Fearing the Chief would lose his temper in public, which would be hard to manage, he whispered, “Just play along. Don’t show your displeasure.”

Suo Pu nodded slightly. The boy came before him, holding a cup on a handkerchief and bringing it to Suo Pu’s lips. He said in a sweet voice, “Master Suo, Master Suo… you are the guest of honor today, you must drink freely, have a few more cups…” Suo Pu saw his graceful figure and charming demeanor, truly more feminine than a woman. A faint fragrance wafted over. Although he knew it was a man, his heart couldn’t help but stir. He drank the wine.

He drank it, but it left a disgusting taste in his mouth, as if he had swallowed a fly.

Mei Lun, while joking around, kept an eye on the main guest, Suo Pu. He saw the impatience on Suo Pu’s face and the disdain in his eyes—clearly, this Master Suo was not interested in these “toys,” and overdoing it would only be counterproductive. Just then, the chef came to carve and present the main dishes. Mei Lun took a plate of steamed white flour buns, a plate of crystal goose, a plate of marinated raw fish, and a bowl of sour bamboo shoot and shrimp ball soup from the table and rewarded the boys with them. The two kowtowed in thanks, took the plates, and went out to the corridor to eat while kneeling.

Mei Lun clapped his hands. “Yundang, aren’t you coming out to serve?”

At his call, a woman’s melodious voice answered as she lifted the curtain and entered. All eyes turned to her. Yundang wore a pink gauze shirt and a long, flowing skirt of deep green. Her black hair was piled high like raven clouds, with delicate strands framing her face. Her two willow-leaf eyebrows were slightly furrowed, as if in sorrow or joy. As her gaze swept around, everyone felt refreshed. Chang Qingyun couldn’t help but praise loudly, “What a beautiful peach blossom of a face, like a lotus on the water!” Yundang gave Lin Ming a radiant smile that nearly scattered his soul. She sang in a soft, winding voice:

The magnolias have fallen, spurred by wind and rain, the courtyard is desolate. Spring has come and lingered, yet I am lazy to play music, reluctant to hold the wine tallies. Bidding farewell to orioles and swallows, a ten-year dream of the green mansions is broken, Yet indolence, like willow catkins, still clings. It is hard to find an old confidant, to whom I entrust my heart’s music to be rewritten. Seductive, I recall holding hands, competing with grasses by the railing, buying flowers under the curtain. I watched the well-pulley turn low, the swing fly high. Where are you now? Even with a round fan and a light robe, With whom can I ride to the pleasure quarters again? Looking back at the green mountains at dusk, another wave of sorrow comes.

Watching her graceful dance, Lin Ming felt as if he were in a celestial realm. He couldn’t help but say, “A decade’s dream in Yangzhou awakens, earning but a fickle name in the houses of pleasure.”

Chang Qingyun smiled. “Last year when I visited Jinling, my teacher and friends took me to the Qinhuai River, where a songstress sang this. Although it is a work of Master Jidi (Gao Qi), when sung again after a hundred years, it still evokes the old dreams of Qinhuai.” He seemed moved as he spoke.

After the dance, Yundang curtsied and was about to withdraw when Chang Qingyun said, “I hear you’ve practiced some new songs recently. This Master Suo is a distinguished guest. Sing a few for us to hear.”

“Yes, I understand,” she said. She had someone bring her a pipa, sat on an embroidered stool, and after a few plucks, she began to sing:

Beneath the small peach branches, I try on a silk dress, The butterfly powder vies with the lingering fragrance. The jade wheel flattens the fragrant grass, Half my face vexed by the red makeup.

Her voice was melodious, both crisp and gentle, with a touch of strength amidst the charm. The song lingered in the air, and everyone at the table was captivated. Yundang played the pipa, her hands and eyes expressive as she sang:

The wind suddenly warms, the days begin to lengthen, the willows droop gracefully. A pair of dancing swallows, ten thousand fluttering petals, the ground covered in slanting sunlight.

When the song was finished, Mr. Xianhe smiled. “This lyric is truly elegant and beautiful, a worthy successor to the Last Lord of Southern Tang. His natural talent is exceptional. I never thought that Master Maoxhong (Chen Zilong) could write lyrics that are so tender and sentimental, with such natural charm. Truly remarkable!”

Suo Pu didn’t know who Master Maoxhong was, but the lyric sounded like a common, ornate love song. What was so remarkable about it? As he was pondering, someone said, “Master Maoxhong’s poems are quite different, almost as if written by another person. I recently obtained a new work of his…” He then recited:

The immortal talent is lonely and distant, the garden of literature is desolate, all ancient mounds. The Han style was once praised in the north, the Chu style now fills the southern states. Can it become elegant music to fill the Jade Sea? Let it be but subtle words to jest in the Jade Tower. I am quite tired of the withered phrases of the human world, I will tailor clouds and cut the moon to paint the three autumns.

Everyone nodded in praise. Suo Pu couldn’t appreciate the subtleties and could only continue to sit there expressionlessly. The guests at the table, however, had become interested, and one by one, their poetic inspiration kindled, they began to discuss poetry.

…

“The most difficult thing in writing lyrics is the recent style. Where it should be level, it cannot be oblique, and where it should be oblique, it cannot be level. A single violation of the linking rules not only makes it awkward to read, but the loss of face is unbearable.”

“There you are mistaken. There are many instances in poetry where level and oblique tones are used interchangeably. Lu Fangweng’s ‘burn ash to eliminate vegetable locusts,’ the character ‘huang’ (locust) is used with an oblique tone. ‘Do not break the red fragrant tree, but know to look your fill,’ the character ‘dan’ (but) is used with a level tone. Li Shanfu’s ‘Huang Zu did not pity the parrot guest, Duke Zhi particularly admired the qilin child,’ the character ‘qi’ (in qilin) is an oblique tone! Han Yu’s poem “Yueyang Tower”: ‘the universe is narrow and obstructive,’ the character ‘fang’ (obstructive) is actually read as ‘fang’ (to visit). Bai Juyi’s “Poem in Harmony with Minister Linghu”: ‘the wind of benevolence fans the roads, the dark rain moistens the houses,’ the character ‘shan’ (fan) is a level tone! Li Shangyin’s “Stone City Poem”: ‘the mat is ice-cold, about to float the pillow, the curtain is warm, not hiding the hook,’ he self-annotated ‘bing’ (ice) as a ‘departing tone’…”