Of Weddings and Wakes | Chapter 7 | Autumn at the Ginkgo Study | Novela.app

In the blink of an eye, deep autumn had arrived. The ginkgo leaves had turned a brilliant gold, appearing even more vibrant and lush in the afternoon light. Bells chimed from the ancient temple, echoing beneath a sky of drifting clouds. The door creaked open, and Mu Gesheng walked in, a robe draped loosely over his shoulders. "Lao Er, what’s for breakfast?" His eyes were bleary and his face was etched with exhaustion; he had clearly just woken up. Song Wentong was wrapped in an apron, busy roasting tea leaves. Deep autumn was the time for the final harvest of ginkgo leaves, and he had been hovering around the stove for days. Hearing the question, he swung his spatula toward Mu Gesheng. "Do you have any idea what time it is? You have the nerve to ask for breakfast?" "What’s the big deal? It’s not like it’ll interfere with my studies." Mu Gesheng dodged the blow with practiced ease, his eyes still half-closed. He reached into a cupboard and fished out a basket of pastries. "Look at you. You clearly left breakfast for me, yet you insist on being so duplicitous. Why go through the trouble of playing the villain?" Song Wentong looked ready to hurl the entire pot at him. "I left that to feed the dog! Eat it or don't!" "I’ll eat, I’ll eat! Woof, woof!" Mu Gesheng made a face with a pastry clamped in his teeth and slipped away like he’d greased his heels. Song Wentong wasn't about to let him off that easily. Brandishing his spatula, he gave chase. The two of them raised a ruckus along the covered corridor, tea leaves flying everywhere and startling the birds into flight. An Ping had grown accustomed to their daily antics; today’s skirmish was a minor affair. Having spent several months idling in this dream, he could only conclude that the buildings of the Ginkgo Study were remarkably sturdy. Had this been the Chai residence, the place would have collapsed several times over from their roughhousing. By now, he had pieced together the general setting of the dream. It was likely some year during the Republican era, set in an ancient city in the southeast. Outside the city was a mountain; on the mountain was Baishui Temple; within the temple was the Ginkgo Study. Inside the study lived a crippled immortal who presided over three young monsters. They had no grand ambitions to storm the heavens, nor any noble intent to exorcise demons. To put it simply, they spent their days drifting along in idle comfort. This ancient city was a strategic military location. The local garrison commander was surnamed Mu. The common folk didn't understand military ranks, so they called him everything from "Great Marshal Mu" to "Commander Mu" or "General Mu." Consequently, the Mu residence was a mess of titles as well: General’s Manor, Mu Mansion, the Marshal’s Estate... An Ping still hadn't figured out the commander's exact rank, only that he was a formidable official. One way or another, he was a man of the military. An Ping didn't have much interest in military politics, but the remarkable fact was that this Commander Mu was Mu Gesheng’s father. Mu Gesheng was the commander’s only son. He had entered the Ginkgo Study at Baishui Temple at the age of ten, but his earlier years had been spent in the army camps. The commander’s wife had passed away early, and the Mu household practiced a "free-range" style of parenting. Commander Mu had tossed his son into the barracks when the boy was only three. Mu Gesheng had soaked up the wild, soldierly air until he was ten, after which a few years of "cultivating his character" had given him a thin veneer of refinement. He was like a well-bred demon king. The two on the porch continued their chase. An Ping had witnessed Song Wentong’s skills several times; the man’s ferocity was directly proportional to his good looks. Mu Gesheng never met him head-on, fleeing faster than anyone whenever he provoked the other. The boy nimbly ducked into a room, shouting, "Lao San, save me! Lao Er is trying to commit murder!" The room was filled with stacks of documents. A person looked up from a mountain of scrolls and sighed helplessly. "What did you do to provoke him this time?" Outside the window, the ginkgo trees were a sea of gold. Behind the desk sat a youth holding a brush and a scroll, his features gentle and refined—a veritable jade-faced young master. Most captivating was his voice, which flowed like running water. A single sentence was enough to soothe the spirit. "Lao Er, why are you... brandishing a spatula? Are you planning to requisition my study to roast tea?" Song Wentong arrived with aggressive momentum, kicking the door open. "Lao San, don't you dare try to smooth things over. Say another word and I’ll thrash you both." "Hero, spare my life," Lao San said, turning to Mu Gesheng and spreading his hands. "You see? I can't save you." "It’s fine, it’s fine. Just let me hide here for a bit." "Get the hell out here!" Song Wentong stood at the door, pointing his finger at Mu Gesheng’s nose. "Stop hiding like a shrinking turtle!" "I won't." Mu Gesheng made a face. "Lao San’s place is nice. I think I’ll sleep here today." "You just woke up and you're going back to sleep?! Mu Gesheng, are you a pig?!" Mu Gesheng covered his ears, pretending to be deaf while he continued to munch on his pastries. Song Wentong was fuming, kicking the door so hard it rattled. Just as it looked like the door might give way, Lao San spoke up. "Lao Er, stop worrying about him for a moment. You can't leave roasting tea leaves off the heat for too long. You didn't put out the fire before you came out, did you? Don't let the kitchen burn down." Song Wentong exploded. "Wu Zixu, are you taking his side again?!" "Not at all, I wouldn't dare." The youth called Wu Zixu laughed. "Lao Si certainly won't go out willingly. If you want to catch him, feel free to come in, just don't turn my study upside down again. I haven't finished this month’s accounts yet. If you two start a riot, I don't know how long it will take to clean up." An Ping remembered this. The last time Song Wentong and Mu Gesheng had wrecked the study, they were not only forced to kneel in penance but also had to help with the accounting while kneeling. The two of them couldn't even stay quiet then; abacus beads had flown everywhere, and both ended up with bruised heads the next day. Wu Zixu was born into the Wu clan of the Yin-Yang School, one of the Seven Schools. He was the current head of the Wu clan and held the title of Wuchangzi. He was young, capable, and elegantly polite, but unfortunately, he seemed born to toil. He spent every day busy with clan affairs and had to find time to mediate between his two classmates. After several months in the dream, An Ping had a general grasp of his surroundings, though he remained hazy on the "Seven Schools" everyone mentioned. So far, he had encountered three: Song Wentong of the Mohist Song clan, who held the title of Mozi; Wu Zixu of the Yin-Yang Wu clan, the Wuchangzi; and Chai Shuxin of the Medical Chai clan, the Lingshuzi. There was also the "Tian Suan" lineage mentioned by the Master of the Ginkgo Study, though he wasn't sure how it related to the Seven. Three clan heads, all young and of prestigious backgrounds, yet two of them were studying at the Ginkgo Study. Clearly, this study had some special significance. However, from what An Ping had seen over the months, the Master spent his days burning incense and brewing tea, Mu Gesheng spent his sleeping and divining, and Song Wentong spent his practicing with his blade and fighting. Aside from Wu Zixu, who often left for clan business, the place was like a retirement club for old cadres—except for the occasional book reading assigned by the Master, they were full-time loafers. In short—it looked incredibly fun. Mu Gesheng, in particular, acted like a proper gentleman in public, but reverted to his true self the moment he was behind closed doors. He had no posture, sitting or standing, and while he wasn't spoiled or arrogant, he was lazier than a ghost. Unless something caught his interest, no one could drag him out of the study. He lived like a cloistered young lady; aside from fighting with Song Wentong, he basically spent his time lying down wherever he went. His lack of a backbone was a direct insult to the iron-willed reputation of the Commander’s Manor. An Ping often watched him with gritted teeth, wishing he could hurl a stack of exam prep books at the boy’s face. *You're having a grand old time now, but do you know you'll end up repeating grades for three years a century later? Spend some time on your homework!* Of the three, An Ping liked Wu Zixu best. The youth had a beautiful voice and a gentle temperament; there was likely no logic he couldn't explain and no task he couldn't handle. The only exception was being caught between Mu Gesheng and Song Wentong, where he was constantly stuck in the middle of their nonsense. Song Wentong eventually left, eyes still spitting fire. Wu Zixu closed his book and laughed helplessly. "It looks like Lao Er won't be cooling off anytime soon. I’m afraid your dinner tonight is in jeopardy." The Ginkgo Study was located within Baishui Temple, but the two entities generally didn't interfere with each other. For meals, they could go to the temple for simple vegetarian fare. However, no young man enjoyed a diet of plain porridge and salted vegetables, and the Ginkgo Study didn't forbid self-sufficiency. Among the three, only Song Wentong’s cooking was edible. Mu Gesheng mooched off him daily, enjoying three meals plus afternoon tea and late-night snacks. An Ping had wondered why Song Wentong put up with him given their constant fighting, but after witnessing Mu Gesheng nearly blow up the kitchen once, he chose to praise Lao Er’s heroic wisdom. Mu Gesheng brushed the pastry crumbs off his hands. "No matter. I performed a divination a while ago; I’m heading down the mountain today." "That’s rare. Found something interesting to do?" "I’m going to apologize to someone," Mu Gesheng said airily. "And while I’m at it, I’ll see if I can score a free meal." As the sun dipped toward the west, Mu Gesheng descended the mountain and entered the city. He made his way to the Chai residence and hopped over the wall. An Ping felt a headache coming on. *Climbing over a wall to enter? That’s one hell of an apology.* The buildings the two had demolished previously had been repaired. The gardens were deep and the layout orderly. Mu Gesheng pulled out a flower coin to perform a quick divination, then leaped onto the eaves, making his way to a side pavilion. The pavilion had two stories with dark tiled roofs and carved windows on all sides. Light filtered through the fine gauze curtains, accompanied by the faint sound of voices. Mu Gesheng lay on the roof, ear pressed against the tiles. He pulled out a handful of melon seeds he’d swiped earlier and began to snack while he eavesdropped. "Beiping has been pressing us repeatedly, asking when this batch of medicinal herbs will arrive. Several major pharmacies have already run out of stock..." "The year is ending. When the branch families come to pay their respects at the end of the year, I’m afraid their expressions won't be pleasant..." "He is still young, after all..." The room was full of people, their whispers continuous. Mu Gesheng listened for a while and pieced together the situation: martial law along the river had trapped several shipments of the Chai clan’s goods at the port. Supplies had been cut off for over a month, and it was said that some of the Chai clan’s patients in the north were critically ill due to the lack of medicine. "This is a matter of our reputation," an elder in the room said, standing up. "The Medical Chai clan exists to heal the people. To have medicine but be unable to supply it is a failure of a physician’s duty. Running out of stock is a small matter; lives are at stake. We ask the Clan Head to resolve this as quickly as possible." Chai Shuxin sat in the seat of honor, his white robes cold and aloof. "Rest easy, Second Uncle. I have already arranged for an emergency shipment from the northeast. It will be enough to fill the gap within half a month." "That is well, but some herbs are southern specialties. The water routes must not remain blocked. You must put more effort into the port situation." "I understand," Chai Shuxin said tonelessly. "Eldest Uncle, have some tea." Mu Gesheng watched for a while, clicking his tongue as he cracked melon seeds. "A grand estate indeed. It’s even more dramatic than the stories in the opera books." An Ping also saw the underlying tension. This matter could be seen as large or small, but while Chai Shuxin was the Clan Head in name, the roomful of uncles and elders were subtly undermining him. The youth sat in the high seat, a solitary figure. An Ping’s family was also in business, and this scene looked familiar—it was the same energy as relatives coming over during the holidays to make demands. But at least his family maintained a facade of warmth; here, there was nothing but aggressive politeness. Mu Gesheng spat out a seed hull. "Having money isn't always a good thing. This little doctor has a harder life than Lao San." The Mu household didn't believe in spoiling children; Mu Gesheng’s monthly allowance was practically non-existent. Unlike his two classmates who had become clan heads at a young age, he was penniless, but he enjoyed his freedom. Song Wentong seemed to have some business of his own that he checked on occasionally, but he was mostly a hands-off manager. Wu Zixu was the busiest; the Wu clan seemed to have endless work, and the boy spent almost every day reviewing documents or traveling, occasionally even finding time to handle the Study’s accounts. When Mu Gesheng was bored, he would bring Wu Zixu black sesame paste, claiming it was to prevent the youth from going bald early. An Ping had actually caught Wu Zixu looking in a mirror once, the youth sighing over the dark circles under his eyes. If Wu Zixu had the luxury of worrying about his reflection amidst his busyness, Chai Shuxin was not so lucky. As it stood, he didn't seem to have a single person by his side to look after him. The room was filled with members of the Chai lineage, all putting on the airs of elders but showing little genuine affection. A matter of moderate importance was talked in circles until it grew into something much larger. The group talked from evening until late at night, until finally, a few of the older ones couldn't hold out any longer. They cupped their hands and said, "We have said our piece. Clan Head, please take care." Chai Shuxin’s expression didn't change. He rose to return the gesture. "Safe travels, Third Uncle." The man stroked his long beard and turned to leave. "It is late; there is no need to see us out." "Such manners," Mu Gesheng said with a yawn. "He still bows to that old dog. What a waste." For the first time, An Ping found himself in complete agreement with Mu Gesheng. The people in the room gradually dispersed. Chai Shuxin remained in the seat of honor, his eyes lowered as he stared at the teacup on the table, lost in thought. Mu Gesheng hung upside down from the eaves and tapped on the window. "That tea has been cold for ages. It’s not good for your health." Chai Shuxin’s hand paused as he went to pour more tea. "Who is it?" "A kind soul in the cold night, here to comfort a weary heart," Mu Gesheng said, pushing the window open with a grin. "Would you like some Red Date, Onion, and Koi Soup?" *** **Glossary** Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation ---|---|--- 诸子七家 | The Seven Schools | A group of seven prestigious families/sects in the story's lore. 无常子 | Wuchangzi | The title held by the head of the Yin-Yang Wu clan. 墨子 | Mozi | The title held by the head of the Mohist Song clan. 灵枢子 | Lingshuzi | The title held by the head of the Medical Chai clan. 乌子虚 | Wu Zixu | The third student at the Ginkgo Study, head of the Wu clan. 老三 | Lao San | "Third"; refers to Wu Zixu. 老四 | Lao Si | "Fourth"; refers to Mu Gesheng. 白水寺 | Baishui Temple | White Water Temple; the location of the Ginkgo Study. 五三 | Five-Three | Refers to "5 Years of Exams, 3 Years of Simulations," a ubiquitous Chinese test prep book series.