The so-called finest wine in Yizhou, Lu Zheng tasted it, and indeed it was clearer, purer, and more fragrant. Though its strength was lacking, the flavour was undeniably good, proving that the Great Jing Dynasty had fine wines.
Satiated with food and drink, Lu Zheng and Duan Changzai strolled out of the tavern. Duan Changzai smiled and asked, “Shall I show you around the city? You can pick up some gifts for those two close lady friends of yours.”
Duan Changzai knew of Shen Ying, as he had handled the Peach Blossom Shrine matter. Now, with the addition of a virtuous female physician neighbour, judging from Lu Zheng’s descriptions, she was likely another of his romantic interests.
Lu Zheng, “…”
Fair enough, he wasn’t wrong. So Lu Zheng nodded. “Then I’ll trouble you, Brother Duan.”
“No trouble at all. You tracked down and killed that shaman, saving us a great deal of effort. This puts our Yizhou branch at the forefront of merit, and Baiyun Temple should see rewards too. Today, you’re a guest of the Anomaly Suppression Bureau. No need to talk of trouble.”
Duan Changzai pointed ahead. “Li’s Cloth Shop has its own dye works and seamstresses. Their fabrics are soft to the touch and exquisitely embroidered. You could buy a few bolts to take back.”
“Alright.” Lu Zheng nodded in agreement.
The two entered Li’s Cloth Shop, which occupied a large space and bustled with business, attracting many small cloth merchants from various regions.
While waiting, Lu Zheng looked around and noticed the shop produced brocade, gauze, silk, and satin, all of finer quality than those in Tonglin County. When a shop assistant approached, Lu Zheng waved a hand and ordered five bolts of various fabrics, arranging for them to be sent to the inn.
…
Leaving the cloth shop, Duan Changzai led Lu Zheng eastward. After a few steps, they saw an old monk walking slowly through the crowd, bowing with clasped hands to passersby, seeking alms.
Ten steps later, Lu Zheng came face-to-face with the monk.
“Amitabha!” The monk stopped, bowing with clasped hands to Lu Zheng and Duan Changzai. “This old monk seeks a single copper coin to cast a golden statue of the Buddha, to pray for the donor’s blessings, wishing you peace and joy in this life and passage to the Western Paradise in the next.”
Lu Zheng observed the monk closely. His grey monk’s robe was worn and patched, his frame thin, his face weathered, with drooping white brows and a face marked by hardship.
Yet, his posture was upright, his eyes clear, and his speech articulate, suggesting that despite his age, he was far from senile.
Duan Changzai took a copper coin from his waist, and the monk extended his hands, palms together forming a bowl. Duan placed the coin in his hands.
Hearing the monk’s words and seeing Duan Changzai give only one coin, Lu Zheng’s eyes flickered. He took a copper coin from his pouch, preparing to hand it over.
But the monk did not accept immediately. He first tucked Duan Changzai’s coin into his sleeve, bowed with clasped hands, and said, “Amitabha, many thanks for your virtue.”
Only then did he extend his hands again to take Lu Zheng’s coin. “Amitabha, many thanks for your virtue.”
With that, the monk stepped aside, continuing his slow walk, bowing to others. “Amitabha! This old monk seeks a single copper coin to cast a golden statue of the Buddha…”
Lu Zheng glanced back at the monk, then followed Duan Changzai onward. After a few steps, he couldn’t help but ask quietly, “Brother Duan, do you know anything about that monk’s background?”
Duan Changzai shook his head, offering a word of advice. “Curiosity is fine, but prying into others’ affairs isn’t kind.”
Lu Zheng’s eyes shifted, and he nodded, taking the lesson to heart.
…
“Watch the magic trick! Watch the magic trick!”
“Turning nothing into white rice! Turning nothing into white rice, come take a look, folks!”
Passing by, Lu Zheng saw a middle-aged man sitting on the ground with a straw mat spread before him, a wooden bucket, a wooden tray, and a clay bowl at his side.
First, the man showed the bucket, which had sides but no bottom. He placed it on the mat, covered it with one hand, and reached into it with the clay bowl in the other.
He scooped and withdrew the bowl, now filled to the brim with white rice.
“Bravo!” Cheers erupted.
The man smiled, poured the rice into the tray, and scooped another bowl from the bucket.
This repeated until the tray held a large pile of rice, far more than the bucket could possibly contain.
When the tray was full, the man lifted the bucket, showing it still had no bottom.
“Amazing!” Applause thundered.
Next, the man set the bucket down, poured all the rice from the tray back into it, and when finished, the tray was empty. He raised the bucket again, still bottomless.
“What a trick!”
“Thank you for the support! Much appreciated!”
The man stood, holding the tray, and slowly circled the crowd, seeking tips.
Some left, others tossed coins, and the clinking of copper filled the tray.
When he reached Lu Zheng, Lu Zheng took ten copper coins from his pouch and gently tossed them into the tray. “Wonderful performance, here’s your reward!”
“Thank you!” The man glanced at Lu Zheng, his face beaming, and called out his thanks.
…
At a bookstore, Lu Zheng’s interest was piqued, and he entered with Duan Changzai. “I wonder if Yizhou Prefecture’s books outnumber those in Tonglin County?”
“There are definitely more, but probably not much use to you,” Duan Changzai said, shaking his head.
Lu Zheng looked around and, though Duan was right, bought a few storybooks unavailable in Tonglin County as gifts for Liu Qingyan.
…
As they wandered, Lu Zheng purchased some snacks, preserved fruits, and bamboo toys. Finally, he stopped at a qin shop.
“Brother Lu, you play the qin?” Duan Changzai asked, surprised.
“A little,” Lu Zheng replied with a faint smile, then entered the shop.
Duan Changzai scratched his chin, intrigued. Lu Zheng was not only skilled in both Taoist and martial arts but also literate and now apparently versed in music theory?
So young, yet so accomplished. Could he be the reincarnated soul of some great master, cultivating anew?
“Sir, are you here for a qin?” The shopkeeper, seeing Lu Zheng in a long robe, elegant and distinguished, with a sturdy man by his side, clearly no ordinary person, hurried to greet him.
“Any good qins?” Lu Zheng asked.
“Yes, yes, please have a look!” The shopkeeper led Lu Zheng to one side, where a wooden rack displayed over a dozen seven-string qins of various styles.
“Take a look, sir. Our shop specialises in seven-string qins, crafted by masters with decades of experience. This phoenix-tail qin is made from phoenix-perch wood from Yaozhou’s Phoenix Mountain, with a vibrant tone. This falling-leaf qin is crafted from hundred-zhang pine from Yangzhou, with a lingering sound. And this one…”
The shopkeeper spoke fluently, introducing six or seven qins in moments, leaving Lu Zheng both impressed and bewildered.
But…
“Is a qin good or not? Can’t we just try it?” Lu Zheng asked.
“Of course!” The shopkeeper saw Lu Zheng eyeing the phoenix-tail qin, carefully lifted it from the rack, and placed it on a low table meant for testing. “Please, sir!”
