Night.
A hissing snow drifted down among the galleries and pavilions outside the Dragon's Roar Pavilion, the lanterns at the eaves shedding a dim glow. A handful of young ladies of letters who had not gone inside stood chatting beneath the maples, their leaves all fallen and dry, and the clatter of carriages and horses from the street only made the quiet beyond the tower seem deeper.
Below the windows of the towering pavilion, at the corner of the courtyard wall that fronted the street.
Song Yufu, bundled in a fuzzy fur-trimmed jacket and skirt, stood with her back against the corner of the wall, both hands pressed to her chest. She was not short, but the man who had her cornered was tall, so she could only tip her little face up at him; her almond eyes held a trace of nerves, and more than that the defiance of I did nothing wrong.
A few flakes of flying snow had settled in the fox fur of Xu Buling's cloak, and his handsome face wore a trace of irritation:
"Are you out of your mind? Did I ask for this? Did I do anything to you?"
Xu Buling had every right to be furious. Following Madame Lu's instructions, he had come here to "buy poems and dirty his own name," and he had taxed his brains until he was dragging out even Li Qingzhao's verses—and then Song Yufu had wrecked the whole thing. Of course he was angry.
As things stood, most of the people in the pavilion believed he had written "The wind has stopped, the dust is fragrant, the flowers are all gone" for Madame Lu. He had been shouted down until he had nothing left to say, and he could not explain himself.
By tomorrow morning, who knew what sort of wild rumors would be flying around.
And his name as a friend to all women would be nailed down for good.
Where else would you find a second gentle talent who understood a girl's heart so well?
If word of this reached Madame Lu tomorrow, Xu Buling could already picture what would follow—Grieve for his misfortune, despise his failure to strive. He can't even play the fool without turning into a tender-hearted talent. What good are you?
But Song Yufu plainly knew nothing of any of this. As a girl from a family of scholars, she had always held her reputation dearer than her life. Right was right; she would not bow her head even if her head were to be taken. That was what they called a scholar's backbone.
Faced with the cold-faced Xu Buling, she showed not the slightest fear, but said earnestly:
"Heir Xu, what gives you the right to scold me? You have real learning, yet you won't spend a word explaining it to those people. They say constant slander wears away bone and many mouths melt gold—if you don't explain, then the longer it drags on, the more it becomes the truth. I was helping you clear your name. You ought to be thanking me..."
"Ha—thanking you?" Xu Buling lifted a hand as if to strike.
Song Yufu shrank her face down into her furry collar and turned her cheek slightly aside, her tongue still sharp:
"You're a gentleman. Hitting a woman goes against a gentleman's way, so you won't hit me—you're only trying to scare me. I saw through that long ago..."
So this is just 'I'm weak, therefore I'm right'?
Xu Buling nodded, snapped a twig off the shrub beside them, and walked up to her:
"Hold out your hand."
Song Yufu hurried to hide her hands behind her back, leaning into the corner, stubborn as ever:
"You can't hit me. The rod is for correcting faults, and I have no fault, so you can't beat someone for no reason... And even if you were going to hit me, you'd have to tell me what I did wrong first, or I won't reform—and next time I'd do it again..."
With Song Yufu's scholarly temper, she would probably go around proclaiming him a great talent in earnest, all to "clear his name."
Xu Buling's eyes went cold. "My business—keep your hands off it from now on."
"A teacher for a day is a father for life. You call my father Master, so I have to look after it... and it's for my father's reputation too..."
Song Yufu stayed propped against the corner of the wall and would not bow her head.
Xu Buling frowned faintly, thought a moment, and said coldly:
"The tallest tree in the forest catches the wind. Do you understand that?"
Song Yufu nodded.
"I'm Prince Yan's eldest legitimate son. My fief is twelve prefectures, and I hold two hundred thousand armored riders in my hand. From childhood I was gifted by heaven, my martial skill close to the divine. Would you call that not the tallest tree in the forest?"
Song Yufu thought it over, and understanding slowly dawned; her eyes lit up:
"Heir Xu wants to hide his brilliance?"
Xu Buling let out a breath and kept his face hard. "Now do you know what you did wrong?"
Song Yufu nodded meekly, but her brows soon knitted again and she muttered under her breath:
"Whoever heard of hiding brilliance like that? Buying poems to dirty your name—the whole point is the buying. You should write a lyric yourself and pretend you bought it..."
"I didn't write it."
Xu Buling raised the twig in his hand and said sternly, "I'm not a widow. How would I write a lyric like that?"
Song Yufu gave a little "Oh~" and narrowed her eyes. "So it really was written for Madame Lu after all. My lord Heir has grown himself one of those seven-chambered, all-too-clever hearts..."
Xu Buling's eyes chilled; he raised a hand, caught Song Yufu by the sleeve, pulled her a little way out from the wall, and laid the twig across her rump:
"I'll teach you to be stubborn... You're asking for a beating, aren't you..."
Song Yufu cried out. Her winter clothes were thick, so it did not hurt, but what sort of propriety was it for a girl to be spanked by a man? She was sixteen already.
Shame and fury mixed in Song Yufu's eyes, but she dared not hit back; flustered, she hurriedly put out her hands:
"Not there... hit... hit my hand..."
Xu Buling flicked the twig across her small hand, not very hard.
Song Yufu knitted her brows and did not dodge—plainly she had often had her palm smacked by her elders as a child, and was used to it.
Xu Buling gave it two symbolic strokes and tossed the twig aside:
"Good, so long as you know you were wrong. From now on, don't go around proclaiming that I'm a gentleman and a talent. If half a whisper of it reaches my ears, I have plenty of ways to deal with you."
Song Yufu tucked her hands into her sleeves, her face a little red, and muttered under her breath:
"Can I at least tell my father...?"
"No."
"Then in all of Chang'an, am I the only one who knows that you're 'accomplished in both letters and arms, deep as a well, wise beyond your years...'"
As she spoke, Song Yufu saw Xu Buling's gaze growing colder. She shut her mouth at once, thought a moment, and said:
"I'll keep your secret."
Xu Buling narrowed his eyes and looked her up and down, unsure whether the girl would not simply turn around and sell him out. To be safe, he reached up and pulled the hairpin from her head.
The pin was white jade, with little ornament about it, carved only with eight characters: "The bright moon shines on the pine; the lotus is like jade." The strokes were like hooks of gold and bars of iron—surely from a master's hand.
Song Yufu was startled and hurriedly reached up to snatch it back. "Heir Xu, give me my hairpin back. It's the one my mother left me."
Xu Buling turned his palm and the jade pin dropped into his sleeve. "When I leave the capital, I'll return it. But if you go out and talk—hmph."
Song Yufu grew anxious. She wanted to reach up and take the pin back, but she dared not go groping about inside a man's clothes; in her distress she rose onto her tiptoes on the spot:
"You can't. A girl's hairpin isn't something you give away... I swear I won't talk..."
Xu Buling gave a faint sniff. "Good, so you know what it's like to be anxious. I don't lack for a hairpin. Keep your mouth sealed like a bottle, and you'll get it back."
Song Yufu had no choice but to give up on taking it back. She hesitated a moment, then said quietly:
"I swear I won't talk. Just don't lose the pin..."
"Also, those poems and lyrics came from a unique copy of a poetry collection in the prince's household. I didn't write them."
Song Yufu nodded quickly, putting on a look of complete understanding:
"I understand!"
Xu Buling put on a fierce look. "A gentleman's word, once spoken, not even a team of four horses can overtake. If you make trouble for me again, I'll strip you bare and string you up for a beating."
Song Yufu flushed and pressed her lips together. "Heir Xu, you are the son of a prince, a body worth a thousand gold—how can you say things only a lecher would say... I won't make trouble for you..."
As they spoke, a sudden commotion broke out from the street in the distance:
"An assassin!"
"It's that one from last time—catch her, quick—"
The sound of official sabers leaving their scabbards rose on every side; on the buildings near the Dragon's Roar Pavilion, dozens of Wolf Guards appeared in an instant and gave chase toward the southeast.
Song Yufu's heart lurched. She knew of the attempt on Zhang Xiang, Commander of the Investigation Bureau, last time; she had not expected the assassin to turn up again.
Song Yufu quickly turned back, meaning to pull Xu Buling over to the guards for safety; but when she looked, only two shallow footprints remained in the snow by the wall, and the man was long gone.
"Eh? Where'd he go..."