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Ch25 - Astoundment
(Translator disclaimer: the translator doesn’t know much about Buddhism, and may have wildly misinterpreted some of the original text)
Beneath the green mountains and beside the clear lakes, two well-dressed scholars faced each other under a pavilion. One of them was handsome and debonair, seated by the jade table as he strummed his long phoenix-tailed zither. The other was unusually tall, yet his features were genial and affable. He held a feathered fan in one hand and tapped it against the palm of his other in time with the rhythm, seemingly entranced by the music.
Caressed by the south winds, warmed by the sun, the soothing zither music attracted singing sparrows, which rested outside the pavilion. Set against their chirping choir, the melody echoed all the more longingly. Thus the song progressed through multiple stages, till the rapid tempo mellowed out and the sound hushed to a bare whisper. When it finally faded entirely, the man who’d closed his eyes as he listened lightly applauded, “What a wonderful performance of ‘Sunny Spring.’ Spirited and pure, it lures all songbirds to join their voices in its harmony.”
The man with the zither shook his head and sighed, “I am far lacking compared to Ji Shuye. I can only lament that ‘A Song of Guangling’ is truly lost.”
When Ji Kang craned his neck for the executioner’s blade, he once played “A Song of Guangling,” inciting thousands of students of the Imperial College to plead for his life. Countless of them would have willingly died in his place. Though the music sheet for ‘Guangling’ still remained, there was not a single person who could match his skill with the zither.
Any other person speaking so brazenly about Ji Shuye and “A Song of Guangling” in the residence of the Jinyang Wang Clan would surely be rebuked, not only because Ji Kang’s death was the will of Emperor Wen, but because the then surveillance commissioner of Sili, Zhong Hui, who was rumored to be involved, was the granduncle of Zhong Yan, Wang Hun’s late wife, making him an in-law of the Wang family. Who would dare to rashly mention such a sensitive subject?
However, the speaker was none other than Wang Hun’s son. Consequently, not only did his expression of rue not seem impolite, his grief at the parting of a kindred spirit made him seem all the more genuine, free, and unfettered.
The tall man smiled faintly, “Ah but you’re wrong, Maoshen. Ji Shuye was bequeathed ‘A Song of Guangling’ during a chance encounter with an immortal. It’s only natural that he should return such divine music to the heavens. Every peck and every sip, all is preordained. What need is there to find melancholy in these things?”
His words not only borrowed from the tales of the strange, they subtly aligned with Buddhist philosophy. Wang Wen smiled, “You’re absolutely right, Anqi.”
The tall man was Du Cheng, Du Anqi, descended from the Du family of the capital region. Though his family was not as prominent as the Taiyuan Wang Clan, Wang Wen deeply appreciated his similar love of music.
Seeing that Wang Wen was no longer troubled by sorrowful thoughts, Du Cheng lightly swayed his feathered fan, “To throw off the burden of mundane affairs and freely wander the mountains, therein lies life’s true pleasures. Unfortunately, I must travel forth to Luoyang. Do you wish to go as well, Maoshen?”
Du Cheng had just received an “order of appointment” from the Prince of Changsha, Sima Yi. For now, Luoyang was stable and Sima Yi controlled the court. It should’ve been a rather respectable invitation, but the princes had been embroiled in war for many years now, and it was anyone’s guess which one of them would win once and for all. Picking sides at this time was very unwise, but the Du family was weak, and it would be improper if they didn’t at least pay a visit in response to a higher noble’s invitation. That was why he’d gone to Jinyang, hoping that he could invite Wang Wen to accompany him and bolster his prestige.
Wang Wen didn’t think too much of it; his smile faded a bit as he sighed, “Now that the official evaluations have concluded, soon, I too must go to the capital. A pity, though, that there are so few men of talent amongst all the vulgar rabble here in Bing Province. The only one worthy of note refused to participate in the evaluation.”
Du Cheng asked surprisedly, “Refused to participate in the evaluation? Just when did someone of that caliber appear?”
Seeing his good friend’s fascination, Wang Wen didn’t keep him in suspense, he told him of everything that had happened at the scholar’s assembly on Mt. Wei. Upon hearing that someone had had the incredible experience of receiving a dream from Buddha, Du Cheng gasped inadvertently, “Such a strange thing really happened? Have you received word from that Liang Zixi?”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
“Not yet. I only fear that Mister Jiang is unable to treat him, that I must lose such an excellent talent
”
Aera atfc, j yfjealoei rfgnjca ulgi mjwf bnfg jcv ufcais lcobgwfv, “Zjrafg, rbwfbcf bo atf Kbcuvl Aljcu ojwlis gfdefrar jc jevlfcmf.”
Qjcu Qfc ilutais rijqqfv atf ajyif, “Ct! Qtja qfgofma alwlcu. Helmx, lcnlaf tlw lc!”
Vtbgais, j sbecu wjc jgglnfv ecvfg atf rfgnjca’r frmbga. Llr ojmf kjr qijlc jcv tlr tfluta kjr jnfgjuf. Snfc tlr mibatfr kfgf afgglyis ecjrrewlcu. Ca j uijcmf, atfgf kjr jyrbieafis cbatlcu rqfmlji jybea tlw. Lf ybkfv jcv rjieafv ab Qjcu Qfc, “P, Aljcu Gj, tewyis ugffa Jbcagbiifg Qjcu.”
“You may rise. Are you Mister Jiang’s descendant?” Wang Wen asked.
Jiang Da replied, “Indeed. My grandfather already made a visit to the Liang Estate several days prior and treated his illness. Master Liang’s condition is rather serious. He’ll likely need a year or so to recover his health. This is the letter from Master Liang that I was entrusted to bring to you, Controller Wang.”
He respectfully presented a missive.
Wang Wen, not expecting that Jiang Da would bring correspondence from Liang Feng, giddily received it from the servant girl and opened it up. Then he exclaimed in astonishment, “What marvelous script!”
There were several sections of text, written tightly but neatly, on the white letter paper. The contents themselves were only secondary to the font, a font that Wang Wen had never seen before. He was of the main branch of the Taiyuan Wang Clan and had studied calligraphy intensively since his youth. He’d seen the works of countless calligraphy masters, but never had he seen a script with such fine foundation, such dignified spirit. On closer look, there seemed to be a suggestion of sprightly charm within the brushstrokes. It simply made one want to jump to their feet and praise it to the skies.
This was the first time that Du Cheng had heard Wang Wen admire another’s calligraphy. His curiosity was piqued as he said bluntly, “Let me take a look!”
Wang Wen was too occupied to pay him any attention. He looked it over drunkenly a few more times before beginning to read the letter itself. It was the last two chapters of the Diamond Sutra, the two in which Budda explains its true meaning, that all phenomena were “nonexistent,” like a dream or an illusion, a bubble or a shadow. Only when one let go of their preconceptions would they become enlightened, enlighten others, and attain virtue.
During that time, most of the Buddhist texts flowing into the Sinosphere were of the Hinayana school, which focused on self-enlightenment and understanding. The idea that one needed to preach scripture to others in order to earn merit was extremely uncommon. Yet the scripture teemed with ancient wisdom, each word was indescribably exquisite. There was no way it could’ve been fabricated by a twenty-something young man. If even two short chapters could leave one with such profound after-impressions; what if he had the fortune to read the whole thing?
For a moment, even Wang Wen’s heart raced uncontrollably.
Du Cheng observed all the changes on his good friend’s face and finally couldn’t resist scooting over to take a peak. With one glance, he understood why Wang Wen had lost his composure. Though the brushstrokes lacked strength, the font was robust and each word was written with meticulous rigor. It had the composed poise of clerical script and the delicate beauty of Zhong Yao’s regular script. In due time, it would become a school of its own!
“Excellent script! Is the script as its writer?” Du Cheng blurted.
“It’s exactly as its writer!” Wang Wen replied. Like the saying, “a person’s writing reflects their person.” Just looking at those words, he could envision his willowy figure, his breathtaking demeanor. The script was exactly as its writer!
Wang Wen was a descendant of the Jinyang Wang Clan, his associates were all famous scholars of lofty backgrounds, his eye for people was naturally exceptional. No ordinary layperson could earn his regard. After Du Cheng managed to suppress his awe, he carefully examined what was actually written on the letter. Though the words were few, he couldn’t resist slapping the table and uttering, “‘Thus we shall perceive them,’ what a brilliant phrase!”
Seeing as his good friend was also excited, Wang Wen asked, “Have you ever seen such scripture, Anqi?”
“I have not.”
“Is this not the essence of Buddhist philosophy?”
“It’s as if the clouds have parted for the sun!”
“I can only wonder what the rest of the scripture is like!”
At that moment, there was no more question that he had seen Buddha in his dream. Who else could bequeath such a scripture if not a deity?
The two pored over the letter again and again, completely forgetting the people around them. Several minutes later, Wang Wen suddenly remembered Jiang Da, and questioned, “Did Mister Jiang say whether Liang Zixi’s sickness was curable?”
“He still needs time to recuperate.” Jiang Da hesitated before continuing, “I don’t know whether I should say it or not, but according to my grandfather, Master Liang isn’t only afflicted by cold-food powder, he also showed signs of arsenic poisoning!”
“What?!” Wang Wen said in shock, “He was poisoned?”
“Perhaps.” Liang Feng had likely wanted to make the information known when he’d told his grandfather about the arsenic poisoning. Naturally, Jiang Da would make sure it reached Wang Wen’s ears.
“That Li Lang is indeed treacherous!” Wang Wen wasn’t slow at all, he instantly remembered Liang Feng’s parting words to Li Lang. It seemed he’d let that Li family brat off too lightly!
He was dismayed, but he had no proof or evidence. Even he couldn’t do anything to the Li family. Wang Wen sighed and instructed, “In that case, send someone to the Liang Estate and look after him. I will take care of all the medical expenses.”
Yet Jiang Da didn’t immediately agree, “Even if you hadn’t ordered it, controller, my grandfather and I would still try our utmost to cure Master Liang.”
Wang Wen was a bit stunned, not expecting that a mere doctor’s grandson would dare to talk back so impolitely, “And why is that?”
“According to Master Liang, the guidance he received from Buddha revealed that ‘cold damage’ disease originates from something called ‘blight.’ My grandfather told me of this when he returned from the Liang Estate. I think, there may be some truth in the matter.” Jiang Da said honestly. He’d studied medicine ever since he was a child; not only did he inherit his grandfather’s learning, he had his own insights into the “Treatise on Cold Damage Diseases.” When he heard of the blight that Liang Feng mentioned, he’d immediately taken interest. It was because of that that Physician Jiang had sent him to deliver the letter to the Wang Estate.
Wang Wen suddenly got up, “Buddha imparted to him knowledge of how to cure cold damage?”
“No, it’s just the source. Although, my ancestors once studied cold damage disease under Imperial Physician Prefect Wang. If we find the source, we may yet come up with a solution,” Jiang Da said, his tone somewhat proud.
Wang Wen couldn’t be bothered with the particulars. Even the noble and rich suffered greatly from cold damage. The people of this era only had a life expectancy of about four or five decades, any day could be their last. It was for that reason that drinking and using drugs became so popular amongst the literati. Curing that terrifying disease would indeed be a laudable accomplishment.
Du Cheng was struck silly as well. He muttered, “Perhaps this is Buddha’s true intention in entering his dream?”
Wang Wen jolted. Of course! If Buddha had appeared in a dream, of course he’d leave behind more than just scripture! It was likely that “blight” was the true key to saving the people. It seemed that Liang Feng, Liang Zixi, was more important than he had imagined!
“Don’t spread this information for now!” Wang Wen said decisively, “The Jiang family needn’t worry about expenses, just focus on finding the blight. If you really do discover the source of cold damage, I will immediately notify the imperial court and have you promoted to the ranks of nobility!”
That was what Jiang Da really wanted to hear. As someone from a family of doctors, no one knew more about cold damage than he. If he and his father really did overcome this disease, they might even leave their names in history, just like Zhang Changsha. Despite his experience and knowledge, Jiang Da’s enthusiasm was plainly visible. He nodded forcefully, “I will do my utmost!”
“Good!” Wang Wen circled restlessly around the table, “Bailu, go help Jiang Da retrieve a hundred thousand coins, if he requires any rare herbs, fetch them from the stores.”
The servant girl by Wang Wen’s side bowed. Jiang Da made as if to refuse, but Wang Wen already waved him off, “Go, quickly, quickly! If there’s any progress, inform me at once!”
He was already giving his full support. Jiang Da bowed deeply and took his leave.
Du Cheng sighed at his friend’s utter loss of composure, “It’s rare to meet with such fate. Maoshen, do you still intend to travel to Luoyang?”
Wang Wen dithered for a moment and answered, “I’m afraid I won’t be going to Luoyang with you, Anqi.”
It really would be better to stay in Luoyang and wait for news concerning the blight. At any rate, he wasn’t particular to either the Prince of Changsha or the Prince of Chengdu, what was the point in carrying out his duties so industriously? As for the Liang family’s noble title, he could just write to his cousin and let him take care of it
 ai, not a single day went by where he didn’t have to worry over such trifling matters.
Wang Wen sighed, then picked up the letter again, “Anqi, let’s discuss this delightful work.”
The author has something to say:
On the outside, it seems like Ji Kang’s death is because of Sima Zhao, but in the Jin Dynasty, it’s taboo to speak badly of previous emperors, so it’s not strange that they would blame it on Zhong Hui’s slander. It’s also because of the court’s heavy oppression that scholars and learned people rarely talked about current politics, and instead indulged in empty philosophical debates.