Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Plum Blossom Painting!

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"Haha! How could this young master miss Lady Mei's birthday feast? I wish Lady Mei longevity as boundless as the Eastern Sea, and ever-growing beauty!"

The arrival was none other than the Profligate Prince—Wei Renzha, followed by over a dozen attendants, among them that sycophantic henchman who had offered the love potion—Shen Er, dressed in the livery of a princely household retainer. No wonder he had no beard—he was a eunuch who had been cleansed of his manhood.

After more than half a month without sight, the Profligate Prince had grown considerably thinner, as if his appetite had been poor lately. Yet his lecherous demeanor had not changed in the slightest, his eyes shooting nothing but lascivious glances.

The observation deck fell silent in an instant, displeasure written on every face. A few of the ladies even turned away, quietly retching.

In the circles of Chang'an's elite, the Profligate Prince was infamous as scum, trash, a foul rat dropping... everyone avoided him at all costs, and certainly would never associate with him. Tonight Lady Mei was hosting the Qujiang Banquet—how had he been invited?

No, that couldn't be right. Lady Mei had always held herself aloof and would never invite such scum. Ten to one, the fellow had caught wind of the event and come uninvited. His audacity was truly thicker than city walls!

But he had already arrived—what was to be done?

As hostess of the banquet, Lady Mei was silent for a moment before finally signaling her household steward to arrange a seat for the Profligate Prince.

One must respect the cat for the sake of the cow, as the saying goes. No matter how worthless the Profligate Prince was, one still had to show some face to Prince Ning. Yet with that foul rat dropping present, tonight's banquet was unlikely to be a joyful affair.

When a beauty was in distress, Li Zhao could not stand idly by. He habitually patted his lower belly, where mischievous schemes churned and brewed, and soon a fine idea bubbled to the surface. He then beckoned to the maidservant beside him—Little Man.

"Master Zhao, what is your command?"

"Instruct the kitchen to prepare a bowl of lamb soup. Mind the heat carefully; it must be simmered to a golden hue, with a thick and rich broth. Send it to the Profligate Prince."

"Hmph! Better to feed it to the dogs than to give it to him!"

"Heh heh, just do as I say. There'll be a good show in a moment!"

"Very well!"

For tonight's banquet, the Mei Merchant House had engaged no small number of master chefs and prepared ample ingredients, capable of producing any delicacy imaginable.

Little Man relayed the order, and soon, a bowl of golden lamb soup was delivered to the Profligate Prince's table... confronted with fine food and wine, how would he react?

"Waah!—Waah!"

"Terrible! Master Wei has suddenly started vomiting uncontrollably—he's convulsed and collapsed!"

"What happened?"

"Unclear. He took one look at the lamb soup and started retching violently. Could he have fallen ill with epilepsy?"

"Hurry back to Prince Ning's mansion—fetch a physician!"

Pandemonium erupted on the observation deck. Several burly servants carried the Profligate Prince away, rushing out like a whirlwind, shouting and wailing all the way...

As for the Profligate Prince himself—eyes tightly shut, frothing at the mouth, body twitching incessantly—he indeed seemed afflicted by epilepsy, and quite severely at that!

Faced with this situation, Lady Mei was first stunned for a moment, then glanced at Li Zhao, who wore a sly grin, and covered her mouth with a soft laugh... This is what they mean by "the wicked are tormented by the even more wicked," is it not?

...

With the detested rat dropping gone, the banquet's atmosphere brightened once more. Next came the presentation of gifts to the birthday celebrant.

Gift-giving is both an art and an important means of social intercourse. Its essence lies in eight characters: offer what pleases, and move the heart!

The problem was that Lady Mei was one of the Four Gods of Wealth—her standards were exceptionally high. Making her heart stir was no easy feat.

The female guests presented their gifts first, mostly ornaments of gold, silver, and precious jade—hairpins, bracelets, dangling hair ornaments, earrings... crafted by skilled artisans. Any single piece was worth over a thousand strings of cash!

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Women are born to love beauty, jewelry, and ornaments—an eternal truth unchanged through the ages.

Next, it was the male guests' turn to present their birthday offerings. Seated in the first position was Li Zhao.

Glancing at the sky outside, which had not yet darkened completely, Li Zhao made a gesture of invitation, signaling others to present their gifts first—he would wait a while longer.

Those around him assumed his gift was of too poor a quality to present in public, and a wave of mocking laughter arose: "Hush... ha ha!"

After the laughter subsided, all eyes turned to the guest seated in the second position—the Peerless Young Master, Dugu Junchen. They wondered what gift he had prepared.

"Heh heh, on the joyous occasion of Lady Mei's birthday, this young master has specially prepared a modest gift. Please do accept it!"

As he spoke, Dugu Junchen produced a sandalwood box and withdrew a scroll from within. His servants helped him unfurl it slowly—it was a painting of plum blossoms.

The scroll's colors had a slight yellowish cast, and a few small wormholes dotted the corners, indicating considerable age. Yet at the bottom there was no seal, no date—only three small characters: Subject—Yao—offers!

"Brother Dugu has always been generous and refined in taste. How has he turned stingy this time, sending a painting with no title or signature?"

"Could he have been in such haste that he grabbed the wrong gift?"

"Possibly."

Since the advent of the Kaiyuan Golden Age, literary culture in the Great Tang had flourished ever more. To appear cultured, many nobles avidly collected antiques, paintings, and calligraphy, and presenting them as gifts was commonplace.

The question was—shouldn't one present works by famous masters? Instead of this nameless, unsigned wild painting that was simply too embarrassing to offer. The guests murmured among themselves, their gazes filled with puzzlement.

Yet all of this was within Dugu Junchen's expectations. He smiled faintly and cast a meaningful glance at a somewhat plump young nobleman in purple robes not far away.

"Excellent, excellent! Worthy of the Peerless Young Master—you've managed to find such a rarity and even parted with it reluctantly to gift Lady Mei. Your sincere heart truly earns my deepest admiration!"

"Fat Luo, you're a connoisseur of antiques and calligraphy. Surely you've discerned something?"

"Heh heh, though I am unworthy, I have indeed glimpsed a clue or two."

The purple-robed fatty was named Luo Jinfeng. His father, Luo Xishi, served as Palace Censor-in-Chief and was one of the powerful minister—Li Linfu's trusted men.

Despite his plain appearance, Luo Jinfeng possessed considerable learning and was deeply versed in antiques, paintings, and calligraphy. He was well known among the circle of noble scions.

He rose from his seat, approached the scroll, examined it carefully for a while, and then spoke with a self-important sway of his head: "May I ask—in this world today, who may be called the master of painting?"

"That goes without saying—none other than the Painting Sage, Wu!"

The guests gave a unanimous answer.

Wu Daozi, a native of Yangdi, was born during the reign of Emperor Gaozong. Orphaned and poor in his early years, he loved painting, and before reaching twenty he had already mastered the wonders of the art. The folds of robes in his figures seemed to flutter, his brushstrokes vigorous and forceful, creating an effect of heavenly garments flying and walls stirring in the wind—earning him the epithet "Wu's belt-like brushstrokes in the wind!"

His masterpieces—The Heavenly King Sending His Son, The Ten-Fingered Zhong Kui, The Golden Bridge—are all immortal works passed down through the ages. Wu Daozi came to be known as the foremost painter of the age: the Painting Sage!

In the early Kaiyuan era, Wu Daozi was summoned to Chang'an and became a court painter. The Son of Heaven ordered that he "must not paint without an imperial command," and from then on, obtaining one of his paintings became exceedingly difficult... These were facts known to all of Chang'an's elite. But what did they have to do with this unsigned, unsealed painting?

"Heh heh, that Wu Daozi is the foremost painter of our time—everyone knows this. But may I ask, do any of you know from whom Wu Daozi learned his craft?" Luo Jinfeng posed the question with a sway of his head.

Who was the Painting Sage's master? That was a difficult question indeed.

Wu Daozi had been poor from childhood and never attended school; he was self-taught. But even a self-taught artist must have had a model to emulate, mustn't he?

Wu Daozi had given an answer to this question: "From distant times, I learn from Zhang Sengyao; in recent times, I study Zhang Xiaoshi." Both were masters of the painting world—the former a man of the Liang dynasty in the Southern Dynasties period, the latter from the early Tang.

Wait a moment... Zhang Sengyao... "Subject Yao offers"... Could it be that this painting is...?

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The noble scions were not all idle pleasure-seekers lost in dissipation—many possessed genuine learning. They crowded forward to examine the plum blossom scroll closely and discussed Zhang Sengyao's deeds...

Zhang Sengyao, a man of Wu, served during the Southern Liang dynasty as General of the Right Army and Governor of Wuxing. He achieved mastery through diligent study, excelled in portraiture, and was skilled at painting Buddhist images, dragons, and eagles... The idiom "adding eyes to a painted dragon" originates from him.

Emperor Wu of Liang was passionately fond of flowers. He once commissioned Zhang Sengyao to paint the Hundred Flowers Chart, which depicted plum blossoms, peach blossoms, pear blossoms, magnolias, lotuses, narcissi, peonies, lingzhi, monthly roses... a full hundred varieties of flowers.

Each flower's posture, color, and charm were utterly distinct from the others, and the pigments were so vivid that the blooms seemed freshly plucked from their branches. Emperor Wu was overjoyed and stored the painting within the imperial city, bringing it out time and again to admire.

Later, when Hou Jing rebelled and the Southern Liang fell, the imperial city was consumed by the flames of war. The Hundred Flowers Chart, along with other treasures, was plundered by the rebel soldiers, and its whereabouts were lost to history.

Who would have thought that Dugu Junchen had found the plum blossom painting among them? This was a treasure that a thousand pieces of gold could not buy, of immense historical significance and collectible value. Even the Painting Sage—Wu Daozi—would surely covet it if he saw it. Even more importantly: the plum blossom stands solitary and proud, its subtle fragrance pure and ethereal—it is the king of flowers. And the character of this flower was a perfect match for Lady Mei's temperament, making it the most fitting gift imaginable.

"This is outrageous! With such a rare masterpiece brought out, how can anyone else possibly offer a gift?"

"It seems that tonight, Brother Dugu will steal the show."

...

Lady Mei possessed a jade-like beauty, talent and grace in equal measure, and tens of millions in family wealth. The noble scions pursuing her were beyond counting, and tonight's birthday banquet was an opportunity. Everyone was saving their strength, wanting to present the finest gift and win the beauty's favor!

Now that this legendary painting had been brought out, the others instantly felt enormous pressure—some fell straight into despair.

Next, Xue Hao presented his gift—it was actually a fierce tiger pelt. When unfurled, it measured a full zhang in size, with thick, dense fur. Its owner must have been a tiger king that ruled the mountain forests!

What made it even more remarkable was that the tiger pelt was completely intact—not a single scar or arrow hole upon it. Those in the know understood: this was the work of a master archer—a shot through both eyes.

That is to say, the arrowhead entered through one of the tiger's eyes and exited through the other, without damaging a hair of the pelt... The Xue family's heirloom bronze-framed, iron-armed bow, capable of piercing a willow leaf at a hundred paces, lived up to its legendary name!

"Little brother made a special trip to the Qinling Mountains and personally hunted this tiger pelt. I hope Sister Mei will accept it!"

"Your sister accepts the gift, but let this be the last time. Hunting tigers in the deep mountains is far too dangerous. You're no longer a child—you must not be so reckless in the future. What if you were hurt by carelessness!"

"So long as I can win a smile from Sister Mei, I would dare to brave mountains of knives and seas of fire, let alone a mere tiger!"

"Oh, you—such a child!"

Lady Mei had once been betrothed to the eldest son of the Xue family, but unfortunately, he had passed away from illness not long after... Even so, the Mei and Xue families continued to maintain close relations.

Thus, Lady Mei was quite close with Xue Song, though their closeness was that of an older sister and younger brother, with nothing romantic about it—this was plain to sense from their exchange.

The gift of the Wise Young Master—Yang Yan—was a pair of ivory nested balls, each the size of an adult's fist. They consisted of three layers, one within another, each carved openwork with uniform thickness. Every layer could rotate freely, and the surfaces bore exquisite carved patterns, demonstrating an extremely high level of craftsmanship.

And this exquisite pair of ivory nested balls was crafted by Yang Yan's own hand.

It turned out that this Wise Young Master was not only an excellent scholar but also highly skilled with his hands, having a particular passion for studying various mechanisms. It was even said that he had some connections with the followers of the Mohist school.

After that, the others presented their gifts in turn, mostly jewelry, jade, antiques, paintings, and calligraphy. But in terms of rarity and value, none could compare with that authentic plum blossom painting.

Even Xue Song's gift paled in comparison. The tiger pelt was fine, after all—it could still be obtained—but the plum blossom painting was one of a kind.

Barring any unexpected turn, the spotlight of tonight's banquet was destined to belong to the Peerless Young Master—Dugu Junchen.

Oh, wait—there was still one person who hadn't offered a gift: Li Zhao!