Chapter Eighty-Five: A Flock of Gulls and Egrets-Snow of the Song Dynasty(The airplane soaring over the snowy mountains)

"Gentlemen, shall we find another place to drink? We can talk as we drink," Li Qingzhao, dressed as a man, clasped her hands in greeting and smiled demurely.

What? She drinks too? Li Sankian stared at Li Qingzhao in astonishment, utterly baffled as to why this delicate girl would want to drink. Could she handle it? He had drunk countless times before and knew that the alcohol here was mild, mostly fermented rice wine or yellow wine, but still, wine was wine, and too much was never good for the body. He dreaded the thought of Li Qingzhao, so graceful and pleasing to the eye, losing her figure and ending up with a beer belly…

"What are you looking at? Why, is it not allowed? Are women forbidden to drink?" Li Qingzhao, noticing Li Sankian's roving gaze, rolled her eyes at him in annoyance.

How could she have known the depths of Li Sankian's indecent thoughts... If she did, she would surely kick him down the stairs and sever all ties with this rogue forever.

"Splendid! Brother Li Hanren, Miss Li, I know a place with a most elegant atmosphere; shall we go there at once?" Zhao Mingcheng, who had been listening in, spoke up excitedly.

Zhao Mingcheng was seventeen, a year older than Li Sankian.

He was the son of Zhao Tingzhi, Deputy Minister of Personnel in the imperial court and a descendant of an official family; it was said he was of the Zhao clan, though rather distantly related by now. Zhao Mingcheng was somewhat proud and aloof in temperament, but not a bad person. When Li Sankian won the lantern festival, Zhao Mingcheng, though a little envious, still admired his talent.

On this day, Zhao Mingcheng had also come to the theater, where he chanced upon Li Sankian and Li Qingzhao, and found an excuse to strike up a conversation. The three were all young and quickly became fast friends.

"After you, Brother Defu. Please, Miss Li," Li Sankian shot Zhao Mingcheng a resentful glare as he spoke.

He had been enjoying his merry little world with Li Qingzhao—laughing and chatting away—when this fellow suddenly intruded, and, to make matters worse, Li Qingzhao didn't seem to mind his presence at all. This left Li Sankian feeling rather vexed.

He couldn't very well force the unwelcome guest to leave; that would make him seem petty in Li Qingzhao's eyes.

…

Zhao Mingcheng led Li Sankian and Li Qingzhao to a riverside tavern along the Bian River.

The tavern stood on the riverbank, with snow-dusted trees in view and the clear river glistening with a thin layer of ice. Winter was fading, spring drawing near, and the melting snow revealed white egrets foraging by the water's edge.

The three sat by the river, warming themselves by a brazier, sipping hot wine, clapping out rhythms, and reciting poetry, delighting in the convivial atmosphere.

Before the rise of Neo-Confucian orthodoxy, Song society still retained much of the Tang dynasty's openness, especially in its relative freedom for women. Thus, a gathering of two young men and a young woman drinking together did not attract undue attention; onlookers merely saw it as a group of youths enjoying themselves.

"Li Hanren, it's your turn," Zhao Mingcheng said as they grew a little tipsy.

They had agreed that each would tell a story involving ghosts or spirits, and anyone who failed to do so would be penalized with three cups of wine.

Zhao Mingcheng recounted a tale from "In Search of the Supernatural," while Li Qingzhao shared one from the "Records of the Hidden and the Visible," both earning laughter from the group and even attracting the attention of some nearby drinkers, who paused to listen in.

Having downed seven or eight cups, Li Sankian was already feeling dizzy and had quite forgotten the promise he'd made to Li Qingzhao at the theater. Spreading his hands, he said, "I truly cannot recall any tales of ghosts or spirits. What am I to do?"

"Haha," Zhao Mingcheng laughed. "Where is the quick wit that won you the lantern festival, Brother Li? Still, if you can't come up with a story, you'll have to drink three cups."

"Drink, then drink..." Li Sankian thought to himself, what's a little sweet rice wine? Didn't Wu Song once drink ten bowls and still kill a tiger? I may not be able to fight a tiger, but what's a few more cups to me?

Wu Song? The thought gave Li Sankian a start. Wasn't Wu Song a man of this very era? Did he truly exist in this world? And if so, where might he be now?

And what about Song Jiang, Fang La, Wu Yong, Emperor Huizong, Grand Preceptor Cai, Tong Guan, Gao Qiu, and all those famous names—where were they?

Li Sankian's knowledge of the Song dynasty had been limited to "The Water Margin"...

"No, that's not fair," Li Qingzhao protested as soon as Li Sankian finished his cup. "A real man keeps his word! You promised to tell a story about ghosts or spirits at the theater—why back out now?"

"Well..." Li Sankian stammered, "What if I simply refuse to tell it?"

"No way!" Li Qingzhao and Zhao Mingcheng replied in unison.

Li Sankian glanced at Zhao Mingcheng—when had he become Li Qingzhao's echo? Like some mindless lackey...

"But I already drank a cup, didn't I? What now?" Li Sankian tried once more to wriggle out of it.

Li Qingzhao shot him a glare, drained her own cup, and replied, "Then I'll drink one with you."

With no way out, Li Sankian was forced to rack his brains. After a long silence, he finally said, "Very well, let me tell you the story of the Phantom Maiden."

"The Phantom Maiden?" Li Qingzhao asked curiously. "Is that really a tale of spirits?"

"Of course," Li Sankian nodded. "In fact, this story is made up of three parts. Which one would you like to hear?"

"All three!" Li Qingzhao and Zhao Mingcheng chorused again.

"All three?" Li Sankian shook his head. "If I tell all three, you'll wear me out!"

"Why are you so troublesome?" Li Qingzhao grumbled, giving him a push. "Are you going to tell it or not?"

"Haha, Li Hanren," Zhao Mingcheng laughed, turning to instruct the servant, "Bring more good wine! Hanren, you always seemed so forthright—why so reluctant now?"

"Once, there was a scholar named Ning Caichen. Having failed the imperial exams, he made his living as a debt collector. But as a frail scholar, debt collecting was no easy task in this world. Down on his luck, Ning one night took shelter in the haunted Orchid Temple, where he met the swordsman Yan Chixia and became his neighbor. That night, as Ning slept in the temple, a stunningly beautiful woman appeared at his door in the dead of night..."

Li Sankian, resigned, began to recount the story from his own memories. His narration was vivid and captivating, and both Zhao Mingcheng and Li Qingzhao listened, utterly entranced. Even the other patrons at nearby tables were drawn in, setting down their chopsticks to listen.

"A snowy lake stretches ten miles under the moon, each strand of hair grieves for the passing years. Alone beneath the moon, yearning for companionship—envying the mandarin ducks, but not the immortals," Li Sankian concluded.

"What happened then?" Zhao Mingcheng asked anxiously.

"In the end, Ning Caichen, desperate to block out the sunlight, couldn't see Xiaoqian one last time. The two parted in tears, and Xiaoqian said farewell, vanishing into her urn. Ning Caichen and Yan Chixia buried her in a safe place, and Xiaoqian was finally able to reincarnate," Li Sankian replied.

"They... they never ended up together?" Li Qingzhao asked.

Li Sankian shook his head. "The living and the dead walk different paths—how could a human and a ghost live together? But... the second part of the story is connected to this. If you want to know what happens next, you'll have to wait for the next installment!"

With that, Li Sankian burst out laughing.

"You... you... always leave us hanging!" Li Qingzhao said crossly, giving him another hard shove. "Are you going to tell us or not? If you don’t, I'll never speak to you again!"

Zhao Mingcheng also glared at Li Sankian in frustration.

"Alright, alright, I’ll tell you!" Li Sankian then recounted all three parts of the Phantom Maiden saga in one breath, leaving both listeners staring at him in silent awe.

Neither had ever heard such a hauntingly beautiful tale of love between a human and a spirit, and their hearts lingered long over the story.

By now, Li Sankian had drunk more than a dozen cups. His tongue was thick, his cheeks red as a monkey's bottom.

"Dao, dao, dao! Dao! Dao, dao, dao!" Li Sankian began tapping his chopsticks on the wooden table.

"What on earth are you doing?" Li Qingzhao asked in surprise.

"Dao, dao, dao, dao, dao, dao!" Li Sankian grinned at her, and then suddenly broke into song: "The mortal world is shrouded in mist. Seeking the Way, I search for myself. A thousand miles I walk, but whom do I ask? The wind and road are my future. The sands are sharp as blades, the wind rages and frowns, but I press on with resolve, forging my own path, striding forward to walk the righteous road, to find the Way and my own pride. I fear not the wind’s sharp blades, nor the sand obscuring the road, I fear not the wind’s sharp blades, nor the sand obscuring the road. In this vast world, I carve my path through the dust, striding forward each day, until one day I triumph and find the Way and my own pride."

Li Sankian had always been a fine singer, his voice soaring from low to high, stirring and majestic, lingering in the air. And this melody was utterly new to this world; Li Qingzhao and the others had never heard anything like it. Spellbound, they listened, captivated by the grandeur of his song.

This was truly a man among mortals! Everyone around thought as much.

"Bravo! Bravo! Bravo!"

"If this young gentleman ever performed at the theater, he'd cause a sensation!"

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause.

By now, Li Sankian was thoroughly drunk. The more he sang, the happier he became. He hadn't felt this elated in ages. Suddenly, he jumped up onto the riverbank and continued singing at the top of his lungs. But...

But, carried away with pride, his foot slipped, and with a splash, he tumbled into the river, sending the egrets scattering in a flurry of white wings.

Li Qingzhao was stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing.

"Row, row, row—startled, the egrets and gulls take flight!" She laughed so hard she could barely breathe.

Standing in the water, Li Sankian gazed blankly at her...

So that's where that line comes from, he thought.

…

"Let us go," a veiled woman not far away sighed to her maid.

"Madam," the maid said indignantly, "You treat her as an elder sister, and yet she..."