Chapter Thirty-Eight: The War Between Women

Putting away the white silk, Master Chiying’s face instantly became solemn and serene. “I have been a monastic for many years and no longer concern myself with worldly matters. You may address me as ‘Aunt Master’ according to custom, but do not call me Mistress.”

“If it weren’t for Master’s insistence that I observe proper etiquette on the path of cultivation, with your youthful looks, Mistress, I would much prefer to call you ‘Elder Sister,’” Lu Liaolia replied, feigning innocence, as if she’d suffered some great grievance.

Master Chiying was speechless, wondering how her dignified senior brother Dong Yanzi, so steady and composed, and the talented, free-spirited Qinglian, could have produced such an unruly disciple. With a half-smile, she asked, “Was it really your master who told you to address me this way?”

“Indeed. Master Qinglian repeatedly warned me not to be improper in front of Mistress. How about this: I call you Aunt Master in public, and in private, I’ll call you Elder Sister Chiying?” Lu Liaolia’s eyes widened as she looked at the master.

Master Chiying suddenly felt a little dizzy and waved her hand helplessly. “Better do as your Master Qinglian says. At Dongchang Rock, have you seen your Senior Brother Gu Ye?”

Lu Liaolia seized the opportunity and recounted Gu Ye’s journey, deliberately omitting certain details, and lavishly praised the young Daoist.

A smile finally spread across Master Chiying’s face. “So, my son is not only kind-hearted, helping his junior brother pick up a beautiful young lady along the way, but he has also heroically protected her. And things are progressing well with that Geshou Xiaoye, I hear.”

Lu Liaolia inwardly grumbled, “You’re a Tang princess, and that’s all you care about?” But on her face, she only kept smiling and nodded repeatedly.

“When will you bring that young lady to meet me? By the way, what plans do you have now that you’re in the capital?” Master Chiying, clearly in a good mood, finally asked.

“Since I’m in the capital, my aim is naturally to find an opportunity to enter officialdom,” Lu Liaolia answered.

“To master civil and martial arts and sell your talents to the emperor’s house—there’s nothing odd about aspiring to serve. Do you have a good recommendation letter?” At this moment, Master Chiying’s bearing was naturally lofty.

“Before joining my sect, I already received the status of a tribute student. So I intend to participate in next year’s Spring Imperial Examination and strive to succeed through the exams. I have no plans to seek office by recommendation, nor have I prepared any official letters,” Lu Liaolia said, though she put on a look of nervous apprehension.

Master Chiying’s expression drifted for a moment, recalling when Taibai entered the capital and stayed at her villa. Though his poetry and prose were unmatched, and he could have easily passed the imperial exams with a little study of the classics, he disdained the Four Books and Five Classics, preferring to mix with commoners and gallants and indulge in the pleasures of taverns and wine-houses. In the end, he submitted his work to Prime Minister Zhang Jiuling and gained the nickname “Immortal of the Drops.” When he gained fame, she had gone to great lengths to recommend him as a Hanlin Academician, but he was ultimately dismissed as superficial, with only poetry to his name. Even giving up her titles as princess and Supreme True Person couldn’t save him from being banished with a reward of gold. She never expected that this disciple, though somewhat mischievous, would at least know to keep his feet on the ground and understand the ways of advancement and retreat.

“It’s good that you think this way. Entering officialdom through the examinations is the upright path.” Master Chiying nodded approvingly.

She returned the Shadowblade to Lu Liaolia. “Your master is skilled with the sword and fond of famous blades. This Shadowblade was the first peerless sword I collected for him. He loved it most of all, and now he’s passed it on to you.”

No wonder that old drunkard could conjure up a rare sword at a moment’s notice—having a Tang princess behind him, what famous sword couldn’t he get? Still, after calling her Mistress so many times, shouldn’t there be a meeting gift? Lu Liaolia mused to herself.

“The Shadowblade is invisible, yet sharp enough, though its blade isn’t as sturdy as other famous swords and is less convenient to use.” Master Chiying beckoned Lu Liaolia over. “Come with me.”

“This ‘Autumn Water’ sword was forged with the finest Tang craftsmanship. Its style is unlike ordinary longswords: the tip is slanted, the body straight, single-edged—a standard military blade. It’s of little use to me, so I’ll give it to you as a meeting gift.” Master Chiying casually tossed her a sheathed longsword.

On the way home, Lu Liaolia felt her back was straighter than ever, her heart light as air. In Chang’an, there would be no need to crawl or cower any longer.

Returning home, she tossed the sword to Zhou Liuzi with a flourish. Zhou Liuzi examined it: the scabbard was not adorned with glittering jewels nor vulgar gold and silver, but bore a striking phoenix engraving.

His hand trembled slightly. The phoenix mark—reserved for the imperial family! No wonder this fellow was so full of swagger on the road, so insufferably pleased with herself; she’d found herself a powerful patron.

After less than two days at home, having coaxed the caged canary Tang Xiaoqi for a good while, Lu Liaolia, spirits high, set out once again.

“Young nobles of the Five Mausoleums, east of the Gold Market,
Silver saddles and white horses ride the spring breeze.
Where will they go after trampling all the fallen flowers?
With laughter, they enter the wine-house of the Hu girls.”

Chanting the lines from “Song of the Youth,” she took Zhou Liuzi and rode toward Zhuque Street near the East Market of Chang’an, where the famous Hu Girls’ Wine-house was located.

Of course, the Hu girls did not really stand behind the counter pouring wine, and the wine-house was no ordinary tavern. In truth, it was a vast and elegant brothel, known as the Hu Girls’ Wine-house. In Chang’an, if you were a man and had never “unclothed yourself on the southern road and drunkenly slept beside a Hu girl,” you could hardly claim to embody the romantic spirit of the Tang.

Lu Liaolia was neither wealthy nor renowned for her talents, so she didn’t draw special attention upon entering. She handed the Shadowblade to the madam who greeted her, and after a while, was led to a room at the back of the premises.

The floor was covered with Persian wool carpets, the furnishings were of the finest rosewood, and the walls hung with poetry—all of them verses by Li Bai extolling the Hu girls. When she saw the poem,

“Grape wine in a golden cup,
The Hu girl of fifteen leads a fine horse.
Indigo brows, crimson boots,
Sings with a foreign tongue in coy delight.
Drunk on the tortoiseshell mat,
What can you do beneath the lotus canopy?”

she could not help but feel both jealous and envious of her master, who, it seemed, had been utterly bewitched by this Hu girl, Xilin, from the age of fifteen. What exactly made her so special, to haunt her master’s thoughts for so many years and inspire more than a dozen poems in her honor?

Jade ornaments chimed, fragrance wafted in the air. With graceful sleeves and a slender waist, the real hostess, Xilin, entered the room. Before she even spoke, her smile radiated a myriad of charms. Though beauty fades with age, her once unparalleled allure still left Lu Liaolia spellbound.

“I received your master’s letter long ago, saying he’d taken on a disciple—mischievous, shameless, vain, and lecherous. Now that I see you, it’s true. Even your roving eyes can’t stay away from your Aunt Xilin, old as I am. Have you no shame?” Xilin gracefully took a seat beside Lu Liaolia, laughing.

“I’ve often heard my master praise Aunt Xilin as a rare beauty, unrivaled even in heaven. Now that I see you, I regret not being born a few years earlier. Though I’m unworthy, I’d have certainly vied with my master for your favor.”

Lu Liaolia rose, respectfully poured Xilin a cup of wine, her face all smiles, though her words lacked any true reverence.

“You’re a silver-tongued rogue—nothing like your master. How dare you flirt with your Aunt Xilin?” Xilin feigned annoyance, but there was nothing frightening about her playful air.

“Heh, how would I dare? It’s just that, upon seeing Aunt Xilin, I can’t help but spout nonsense.” For some reason, in front of Xilin, who was also technically a Mistress to her, Lu Liaolia felt none of the anxiety she had before Princess Yuzhen—only ease and comfort.

Xilin chuckled, not the least bit angry, and tapped Lu Liaolia’s forehead with a finger. “In this, you’re just like your master—honey-tongued, always winning girls’ hearts. Who knows how many you’ll ruin in the future?”

“Come now, I’m very proper. I wouldn’t even dare speak to a strange girl,” Lu Liaolia replied with a sly grin.

“Pah! As if your Aunt Xilin would believe that. How long have you been in Chang’an? Have you been to the temple to pay respects to... you know who?” Xilin asked, seemingly offhanded, but her tone was careful.

“I came to see Aunt Xilin as soon as I arrived in Chang’an, haven’t gone anywhere else,” Lu Liaolia said, sounding earnest.

“You little rascal! Do you think your Aunt Xilin would believe that? I know what I am. Did your master send you with any message for me?” Xilin asked, her tone tinged with a hint of sourness.

Lu Liaolia produced another embroidered pouch and handed it over.

Xilin opened it, drew out a piece of white silk, and softly recited: “The beauty rolls up her pearl curtain, lowering her frowning brows. Only the tear-stains can be seen, not whom her heart resents.” As she read, tears rolled down her cheeks, her expression dazed, her emotions surging uncontrollably.

Lu Liaolia was stunned. Could these few simple lines really have more impact than the lengthy “Yearning in Chang’an”?

Wiping her tears, Xilin was utterly moved. “If I have this poem from him, my life is fulfilled. Back then, when the fearsome Li Tengkong smashed up my little tavern, even when your master bought this whole estate for me, I was never so touched as I am now.”

Lu Liaolia was bewildered. “Master, did you come to Chang’an for a career, or just to leave a trail of romantic conquests?” She ventured to ask, “Aunt Xilin, who is this Li Tengkong, and why did she smash your wine-house?”

“She’s the daughter of the powerful Chancellor Li Linfu—how could she not be so overbearing? It was that one from the temple who blocked her from marrying your master. She didn’t dare to offend the temple, so she took her anger out on me instead,” Xilin said bitterly.

Lu Liaolia clutched her forehead, exasperated. “Master, you went all out for your ambitions, but the results don’t seem too great.” Then a thought struck: “The chancellor’s daughter, with such influence—should I pay her a visit? Yet, why didn’t Master mention her before I left?”

“Aunt Xilin, did that Li Tengkong, who smashed your wine-house, ever get married?” Lu Liaolia asked carefully.

“That Li Tengkong may have been headstrong, but she was stubborn, too. She had eyes for no one but your dashing master. When her father tried to force her into marriage, she simply ran away and became a Daoist on Mount Lu. She’s better than some who keep pretty boys, at least,” Xilin said angrily.

Lu Liaolia turned pale, not daring to continue the topic.

“If someone can do it, why can’t I talk about it! When your master married Lady Xu, Li Tengkong publicly kept a handsome, talented young man as her lover. Otherwise, why did your master, after entering the capital, mix with commoners and linger among the flowers, drinking everywhere?” Xilin’s courage grew in her own domain.

Lu Liaolia’s face was awkward; she didn’t know what to say. Fortunately, Xilin dropped the subject and lowered her voice. “Back then, your master paid a high price for this house and told me: if any of the girls here heard important news, to quietly keep a record. Not long after, he was banished from Chang’an. Now that you’re here, I’ll give you all I’ve gathered over the years.”

Lu Liaolia was overjoyed. For one who weighs current affairs and surveys the world, nothing is more vital than information—and brothels like this are the best, fastest sources. So the old man hadn’t been idle after all, and she herself was spared much effort.

“Aunt Xilin, after all these years, did you ever find out the real reason Master was exiled from the capital?” she asked hopefully.

“Wasn’t it because your master slept with Li Tengkong and offended the jealous Chancellor Li Linfu?” Xilin said with a huff.