Chapter 54: How Can One Bring Peace to the World When His Own Home Is in Turmoil?

If someone were to ask Lu Liaoliao at this moment what the most painful thing in the world is, he would undoubtedly say: the greatest pain is that once you tell a lie, you must patch it with countless more lies, and each time it becomes harder to keep the pretense going.

He had shut himself in his room, refusing food and water, and most of the night had already passed. In Tang Xiaoqi’s room, not a single light burned; all was silent. Lu Liaoliao had sat for half the night on the steps outside her door, haunted by the image of Tang Xiaoqi sitting alone in the moonlight, waiting for him in silent suffering.

At last, with grim resolve, he drew his long-unused sword, Shadow’s Edge, and cut through the door bolt. He gently pushed open the door to see Tang Xiaoqi, her eyes swollen and red, kneeling before the window, fixed like a clay statue in the pale moonlight, utterly motionless.

Lu Liaoliao’s heart ached at the sight. He took off his coat, wrapped her shivering body in its warmth, and gathered her into his arms.

“I know I am in the wrong. A woman shouldn’t be so jealous. But whenever I think of you with other women, my heart aches so badly I can’t bear it, and I end up quarreling with you. Liaoliao, will you grow tired of me, stop loving me, and abandon me?” Tang Xiaoqi murmured through her tears.

“Silly girl! You know I love you most, value you most—how could I ever leave you?” Lu Liaoliao replied softly.

“You don’t blame me for not letting you take more money, or for forbidding you to frequent the pleasure houses like the other scholars, reciting poems and carousing?” Tang Xiaoqi twisted in his arms and looked up at him.

“How could those painted, common women compare to my own Xiaoqi?” Lu Liaoliao crooned, coaxing her gently.

“What about Yelai then?” Tang Xiaoqi stared at him intently.

“I’ll tell you a great secret, but you mustn’t let anyone else know. That night, the courtesan Yelai from the Celestial House—she’s actually the famous Lord Xihua.” Seeing no way around this, Lu Liaoliao decided to give Tang Xiaoqi a bold dose of the truth.

Tang Xiaoqi recoiled as if bitten by something, pulling away from his arms and pointing at him, speechless with shock.

Lu Liaoliao guessed her misunderstanding and couldn’t help but smile. He continued mysteriously, “Didn’t I once battle Lord Xihua for three hundred rounds? In the end, it was a draw, and we struck up a friendship out of mutual respect. When I saw him again at the Celestial House, imagine my shock when he appeared as the famed courtesan Yelai! Later, there was that sensational uproar in Chang’an, where the noble sons fought over Yelai. I was there and even lent Lord Xihua a hand.”

“What did you help her with?” Tang Xiaoqi asked, her eyes wide.

“When chaos broke out, rather than fleeing, Lord Xihua was busy stuffing the jewels and trinkets given by those nobles into a bundle. I thought to myself, why not help? We gathered up all the gifts together. I thought, given our acquaintance, he’d share a piece or two with me, but he didn’t give me a thing.”

Unwittingly, Lu Liaoliao was spinning yet another tale.

“Why not? Lord Xihua must be terribly stingy,” Tang Xiaoqi complained indignantly.

“It wasn’t stinginess—on the contrary, I greatly admired what he did. How could I expect a share out of selfishness? Do you know what he did with those riches? He used them to support many orphans.” Lu Liaoliao put on a look of deep admiration.

“Ah! In that case, it’s true—you couldn’t very well take any of it. But is Lord Xihua a man or a woman?” Tang Xiaoqi nodded, then suddenly asked the key question.

“I believe she’s probably a woman,” Lu Liaoliao answered vaguely.

“So the jade pendant she gave you must have been to thank you,” Tang Xiaoqi concluded, finding herself a reasonable explanation.

“I think that’s most likely the reason,” Lu Liaoliao said, finally breathing a sigh of relief.

Suddenly, Tang Xiaoqi cried out in alarm, startling Lu Liaoliao.

“When did you start going to the Celestial House? And it seems you went more than once.” Tang Xiaoqi’s swollen eyes stared at him unblinking.

“Wasn’t it because you were so fierce at home, like a tigress, that Lu Jiu refused to come to our house, so I had to go to the Celestial House to meet him?” Lu Liaoliao looked at her with a hint of reproach.

“Well, Lu Liaoliao, not only did you secretly consort with the courtesan Yelai, you’ve been meeting that enchantress all along! I can’t bear to live!” Tang Xiaoqi pointed at his nose, her voice trembling with outrage.

“Tang Xiaoqi! Do you want my life or not?” Lu Liaoliao really felt at the end of his rope.

But Tang Xiaoqi suddenly threw her arms around him, pressing her soft, fragrant body to his chest, gazing up at him pitifully.

“What is it?” Lu Liaoliao asked, his expression dark.

“I just want to give you a son as soon as possible—do you want that?” Tang Xiaoqi cooed, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.

Very well, he thought, let’s just live for now—Lu Liaoliao surrendered in no time.

Those accustomed to weaving lies become fond of drink as well, especially the rare wines kept at the Celestial House. Although Lu Jiu was a detestable creditor, his conversation was witty and sensible—a good companion. Besides, that face was so beautiful, it was a pleasure just to look at.

“I heard Yelai and Tang Xiaoqi are fighting from afar, and your household’s been in chaos ever since. A grown man kneeling outside Tang Xiaoqi’s door for half the night—how laughable! Some of us fancied ourselves men of the world, but if we can’t keep our own homes in order, how can we hope to set the world to rights?” Lu Jiu mocked Lu Liaoliao without restraint.

“You, Young Master Jiu, may command your household with ease, but if you can’t keep your chest up, how will you face the world?” Lu Liaoliao retorted in kind.

“Lu Liaoliao!”

“Wang Liuli!” Lu Liaoliao could be afraid of Tang Xiaoqi, could be wary of Gu Xihua, but not of Lu Jiu. The reason was simple—the more debt you owe, the more you act like the master.

They glared at each other, but in the end, Lu Jiu conceded defeat, turning away with a sigh.

“There’s a rumor making its rounds among the scholars lately, and it concerns you,” Lu Jiu said quietly.

“I’ve never mingled much in scholarly circles—what rumor could possibly involve me?” Lu Liaoliao replied dismissively.

“It’s said that the immortal poet Taibai once humbled himself before a noblewoman for the sake of office, only to receive a minor post and, lacking in real ability, was fined and barred from the capital for life. But his disciple is even more shameless—eager for the emperor’s notice, he stooped to the lowest means, disgracing all scholars. Now people everywhere are seeking out this disciple, Mi Gongtian, to see just how shameless he really is.” Lu Jiu looked at Lu Liaoliao with pity—this poor fellow, not yet in office, already infamous.

Lu Liaoliao was stunned for a moment. He took up his cup and drank it dry, still unable to believe it. “Where did such rumors come from? Can’t they see that the streets of Chang’an are now clean, the canals clear, beggars have a way to survive, the fields yield more grain—do they only see the name Mi Gongtian?”

“It’s said the rumor started in the palace. Dr. Pei Shiyan of the Imperial Academy even declared in class that if he ever meets this disciple, he’ll curse him until he’s black and blue, with not a shred of dignity left.” Lu Jiu shook his head regretfully.

“Hah! Those scholars lounge in pleasure houses, recite poems, and indulge in excess. Either they’re singing the praises of our wise and mighty emperor and the wealth and strength of Great Tang, or they wax lyrical about spring rivers and moonlit beauties. But do they see the true concerns of the nation and the people? Those pedantic, narrow-minded scholars—I’ve never cared to mingle with them. Let them laugh as they please.” Lu Liaoliao filled his cup again and drained it, sneering in contempt.

“You—sharp-tongued, shameless, never serious—yet in your heart, you’re proud and solitary, no wonder you have no friends. The emperor is wise, the nation is strong, the realm is at peace. Scholars praise the emperor, hoping for favor and a career—what’s wrong with that?” Lu Jiu shook his head at him.

“A wise emperor? He seized his own daughter-in-law for his harem and now wallows in the Daming Palace, neglecting state affairs. The imperial treasury is never enough, and every year Wang Hong sends another ten billion coins. Such an emperor dares call himself a sage. A wealthy, strong Tang? After all the layers of extortion, the people barely eke out a living. The only ones thriving are the emperor, the nobles, the idle scholars. This Tang is a top-heavy, feeble giant—one change and the illusion of prosperity will collapse in an instant.”

Lu Liaoliao, carried away, poured out all the thoughts he had suppressed, downing cup after cup, swaying as he spoke, feeling as if he alone was sober in a world gone mad.

“Lu Liaoliao! You’re drunk—do you know what nonsense you’re spouting?” Lu Jiu quickly tried to quiet him.

“All right, enough. Let’s change the subject. We’re half friends at least—tell me, when you ate those hallucinogenic mushrooms years ago, what did you see?” Lu Liaoliao finished with a mischievous laugh.

Lu Jiu’s face turned white with anger. He called over Wang Shiyi and, pointing at the unsteady Lu Liaoliao, ordered, “Throw this drunken fool Mi Gongtian into the pond and let him sober up. Throw his two attendants in with him!”

The three of them, master and servants, dripping wet, huddled under a tree by the pond.

“Boss Hu, tell me—should an official make the people rich, or himself rich?” Lu Liaoliao gazed pensively at the blazing white sun.

“Of course, himself. A thousand miles in office, all for wealth—I understand that much,” Boss Hu replied earnestly.

“Yes! Even you understand that, but I never figured it out. I kept insisting on enriching the people and arguing with Lu Jiu—doesn’t that make me a fool?” Lu Liaoliao laughed at himself.

“Master, I believe you are right. If you become an official, you must never do as Boss Hu says,” Zhou Liuzi said solemnly.

Boss Hu was silent for a long moment, then looked at Zhou Liuzi with newfound respect. “Now I finally understand why that courtesan, Miss Liu Yiyi, gave you that jade pendant with the deathly face.”

Zhou Liuzi glared fiercely at Boss Hu, who pretended not to notice. He twisted his sodden clothes and looked at the still dispirited Lu Liaoliao. “Master, I think you ought to make yourself rich first, and those around you. If you’re so poor yourself, how can you make the people rich?”

Lu Liaoliao was stunned into silence, unable to respond for a long time.