Chapter Eighteen: A Wish
On the way to meet at Drunken Wind, Cao Qing and Li Youwei sat together in the sedan chair. Watching Li Youwei repeatedly lift the curtain to check how much longer the journey would take, Cao Qing couldn’t help but chuckle.
Teasing her, Cao Qing said, “Princess, if anyone didn’t know better, they’d think you were eager to meet your groom!”
“Oh really? If you dare laugh at me like that, be careful—I might accuse you of great disrespect!” Li Youwei retorted.
Cao Qing was Li Youwei’s personal maid, having grown up alongside her, naturally closer to her than most others.
She was not afraid.
Dodging Li Youwei’s playful slap, Cao Qing said, “I’d really hope it’s a handsome and well-mannered young gentleman. That way, the princess wouldn’t be constantly pining over that ungrateful Master Song.”
“Cao Qing.” Li Youwei’s smile faded slightly. “Master Song was the top scholar in this year’s imperial examination. Though Father has yet to grant him a post, he will surely become an important minister in our dynasty. Such words must not be spoken again.”
“Yes, I know my mistake,” Cao Qing admitted, lightly tapping her own mouth. “Princess, between Master Song and the one in the letter, who do you think has better literary talent?”
“Can a few lines on paper really compare to Master Song’s talent?”
Li Youwei chuckled. “Then all these years Master Song must have wasted his time.”
Cao Qing laughed at her own naivety. “I can only read, nothing more. I could never think so deeply. Princess, you are the wise one.”
She leaned in cleverly and massaged Li Youwei’s legs. “But from what I see, the one who dared to ask the princess to meet at Drunken Wind must be a charming fellow—not like Master Song.”
“Drunken Wind is a frequent haunt of poets and scholars. Men can never restrain themselves,” Li Youwei sneered with disdain. “Don’t think so highly of Master Song. As far as I know, many surnamed Song have been to Drunken Wind.”
“Oh my, how could Master Song be like that? Why does the princess favor him so much?”
“What man in this world is good? All want three wives, four concubines, and perhaps a kept lover besides. Since they’re all the same, I just want to pick one who’s a little better than the rest.”
A faint trace of weariness, shown only to those closest to her, appeared on Li Youwei’s face. She knew best how fickle and unfaithful men were, and she placed no hope in them.
“Because I am a woman, I cannot make achievements in the world. The only contributions I can make to my dynasty are through marriage alliances to stabilize the borders or by winning over powerful ministers.”
“Princess, is there any affection between you and Master Song?”
“Of course, there is,” Li Youwei said with a bittersweet sigh. “I know men are not good, but I love them all the same.”
Cao Qing didn’t quite understand what Li Youwei meant, but she knew the princess was always right.
“Princess, don’t be sad. That Song fellow isn’t worth it. What kind of man do you want? If worse comes to worst, we can just keep a handsome favorite!”
Li Youwei laughed at Cao Qing’s words. “Exactly! If need be, I’ll keep a favorite myself—several even—and have three wives and four concubines just like a man.”
The two joked and bantered until they soon arrived at Drunken Wind. From a side entrance, they stopped. The madam dismissed the others and personally escorted the princess upstairs.
“Noble guest, this is the room. If you need anything, just say the word. I will attend to you myself.”
“Understood. Wait outside, please.”
“Yes.”
Cao Qing pushed open the door. The man inside rose at the sound and respectfully bowed to the princess.
“A humble servant greets the princess.”
“Rise.”
“Yes.”
The man lifted his head, and Li Youwei saw his face clearly. Inwardly, she sighed at how remarkably handsome he was.
Li Youwei sat down without a trace of emotion, but the man remained standing.
Li Youwei tapped the table lightly. “Your servant once sent a letter to the princess’s residence. It said you have brocade silk books to exchange. Have you brought them?”
“I have, princess. Please see.”
Dressed as a delicate young scholar, Wen Zhiyan pulled soft brocade silk from his book bag. Sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains, casting a delicate glow.
Li Youwei eagerly took the brocade and examined every character embroidered in gold thread with great care.
“Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva, practicing deeply the Prajnaparamita, perceives the emptiness of the five aggregates, and thus overcomes all suffering...”
Li Youwei recited softly, her fingers gliding over the fine script. She marveled at the meticulous artistry and the delicate thought behind such exquisite brocade writing.
“Did you write this Heart Sutra?”
“Yes, princess. It was I.”
“How was it written?”
“Using morning dew collected from leaves as ink, the sharpest wolf hair brush to write on the silk. Before the ink dried, the characters were outlined with gold thread, then embroidered in gold.”
“Impressive. But these characters are neither masculine nor feminine, neither yin nor yang, embodying the unity of all things... You look so young, how could you have such skill? From whom did you learn?”
Li Youwei scrutinized his expression, searching for any sign of deceit.
“I wrote it myself, never having studied under any master. Please forgive my presumption, princess.”
Wen Zhiyan bowed slightly, but Li Youwei was clearly skeptical.
“I once heard from my father that the only person capable of producing brocade silk writings is the late Grand Duke Wen, General Wen Li. After the Wen family’s downfall, all male members of the nine clans were implicated... Who are you really?”
At the mention of his grandfather’s name, Wen Zhiyan’s face briefly showed sorrow, quickly concealed, but it was caught by Li Youwei’s keen eyes.
Frowning, Li Youwei asked, “Are you from the Wen family?”
“I was fortunate to meet the old general in my youth, and received but a few words of guidance.”
“Come closer and raise your head.”
Obediently, Wen Zhiyan stepped forward and lifted his head, though his gaze remained downcast.
Li Youwei studied his face carefully. She felt an inexplicable familiarity but worried she might be confusing him with someone else.
“This is a case personally overseen by my father; it should not be mistaken.”
Li Youwei relaxed her tense nerves and waved a hand. “I was overthinking. The brocade silk work is indeed exquisite. I will take it. What do you wish to exchange with me?”
Wen Zhiyan had been waiting for this moment.
“I wish to exchange a single desire with the princess.”
“A desire? Speak plainly, as long as the princess can fulfill it.”
Li Youwei looked at him, amused yet secretly hopeful.
Though no man was truly worthy of her, there could still be one to bring her joy. This one seemed to hold some intrigue.
If he wished to become a subordinate under her protection, it was not impossible to consider, though the matter with her father would be difficult.
At worst, she could have him enter the household as a guard. Perhaps one day, when she tired of him, she could send him elsewhere.
She waited for his answer.
Finally, Wen Zhiyan met Li Youwei’s gaze and said, “I hope the princess will grant me an audience.”