Chapter Fifty-Four: Hidden Motives

From the Han dynasty to the Three Kingdoms period, the hierarchy of surnames was established to stabilize the realm, formalizing the nine ranks. Later, further distinctions were made through graded appointments to determine county surnames, creating a system where palace secretaries were assigned the highest rank of Jia surname; the Nine Ministers and regional governors held the Yi surname; the imperial attendants and grand masters received the Bing surname; and the assistant inspectors were given the Ding surname.

In the Three Wu region, naturally, the clans of Gu, Lu, Zhu, and Zhang were ranked as Jia. Lu Ji once composed a poem declaring: “The eight clans are not to be overly proud; the four surnames are the truly renowned houses.” Among these four, Gu Zhong, Lu Hou, Zhu Wu, and Zhang Wen stood out. The Zhu family, led by Zhu Wu, was preeminent—a noble lineage unmatched in the Three Wu. Compared to the Yixing Xu clan, from which Xu You hailed, though the latter’s influence was somewhat lesser and lacked the domineering arrogance of the Xu’s regional hegemony, the Zhu family’s roots ran deep. Since the Han dynasty, ancestors like Zhu Liang had held eminent positions in the Secretariat, upholding a martial family tradition for centuries, a heritage both profound and enduring, neither surpassed nor equaled.

Xu You, well-versed in the histories of the Two Jin dynasties, did not view this as unusual. The reason strong martial clans frequently emerged in Jiangdong was due to its people’s fierce nature. As recorded in the “Geographical Records” of the Book of Han: “The peoples of Wu and Yue all favor bravery; thus, even now, they prefer the sword, are light in death, and quick to act.” In other words, the lands of Wu and Yue were inhabited by fiercely independent and unruly folk.

Even after the Western Jin pacified Wu, Emperor Wu of Jin, Sima Yan, often fretted over these fiercely armed, combative, fearless, and reckless people. Once, in the imperial hall, he asked Hua Tan: “Though Wu and Shu are treacherous, now they have been pacified. The people of Shu are comparatively docile and can be coaxed into loyalty without dissent. But the people of Wu are disobedient, often gathering with swords to riot. What is to be done?”

Hua Tan responded with resignation: “The customs of Wu differ from those of Shu; Wu lies west of the Yangtze River, where old customs favor fierceness.” And that was the end of it.

It must be noted that Hua Tan was no ordinary man. Orphaned young, his mother observed strict widowhood from the age of eighteen, raising him with great hardship. Gifted and eloquent from childhood, he even authored a treatise on debate. In modern terms, he would be a master at persuasion, capable of converting even the most skeptical to his cause. Faced with the fierce customs of Jiangdong, even he could only concede.

Though it was unclear what connection Lady Zhan had with the Zhu clan, the fact that she dispatched a distinguished family elite to Qiantang rather than sending a mere servant showed the Zhu family’s genuine intent to assist.

Zhu Rui, styled Ziyu—his name hardly suggested a fierce disposition.

Xu You muttered the name twice, then suddenly asked, “Has it begun?”

The question was abrupt and vague, yet Lady Zhan seemed to understand, shaking her head: “Today was merely a gathering of the various branches to discuss affairs. Zhan Ting likely promised many benefits; seven or eight out of ten support him, so the debate was intense but no open conflict occurred.”

Xu You calmly replied, “Whatever happens, this must be prolonged for more than ten days. Only when our plan here is set in motion can we find a way out of despair.”

Recalling Zhan Ting’s fierce expression earlier, it was clear he was eager to hand over the Zhan family’s estate to the Celestial Masters Sect—or perhaps the sect had grown impatient waiting. Xu You’s demands were far from easy to fulfill.

Yet Lady Zhan did not hesitate, resolutely declaring, “Very well, I guarantee that within fifteen days, the guesthouse will not change hands! Tomorrow’s second meeting—no matter the cost—we will not let Zhan Ting succeed!”

Leaning forward slightly, her delicate jade-like hand emerging from flowing sleeves pressed lightly on the edge of the table. Her autumn-like eyes met Xu You’s intently. “Now, my lord, you must tell me how we shall proceed.”

Xu You remained within the room for a full hour. When he departed, Lady Zhan personally escorted him to the door, the weariness and worry of days past vanishing from her features. Her gaze upon Xu You now held admiration and surprised respect.

The mountain breeze swept in, chilling to the bone. Xu You instinctively shrugged, his nose beginning to itch. This body was truly frail.

Noticing his discomfort, Lady Zhan apologized softly: “My lord, rest early. These past days have been taxing. Once this trial is past, you may reside long in Mingyu Mountain. The scenery there is exquisite, tranquil and serene—surely to your liking.”

Xu You replied casually, “Yesterday, Bai Hua invited me to view the Absolute Cliff Waterfall. Should leisure permit, I may indeed trouble you, madam.”

Lady Zhan smiled, her expression unruffled, calling out, “Bai Hua!”

Bai Hua, waiting outside, promptly entered. Lady Zhan instructed, “Light the lamps and attend carefully. Escort my lord back to his chamber.”

“As you command!” Bai Hua turned to leave, but Lady Zhan added swiftly, “Return quickly after escorting him; I have questions for you.”

Bai Hua nodded again, taking the wind lantern from a waiting maid. She grinned playfully: “My lord, watch your step—don’t fall and cause me to be scolded by the madam!”

Xu You laughed heartily, saluting Lady Zhan with hands clasped behind his back, sleeves fluttering as he strode away.

After a while, Bai Hua returned to Lady Zhan’s boudoir. There, Lady Zhan sat before a bronze mirror inscribed with white light characters, dressed in loose, comfortable white stockings. Her long, flowing black hair cascaded casually over her shoulders, her slender, fair neck exposed to the air, radiating a dazzling glow.

“Madam, I shall comb your hair,” Bai Hua said, drawing an ivory comb from the mirror drawer and standing behind her to gather the hair. With a gentle stroke, the silky strands fell softly down past her hips.

The so-called mirror drawer was the box where women kept their makeup tools. In the Northern Zhou era, the poet Yu Xin wrote in “Ode to the Mirror” of “temporarily setting aside the makeup box, only to open the mirror drawer.” That Yu Xin was the same official praised by Du Fu’s poem as “the fresh and elegant Governor Yu.”

“Madam, your hair is so fine—like satin. And your skin—whiter than frost or snow, surpassing even those who paint their faces daily. Hmph, if you ask me, there’s no woman in Yangzhou who can compare. Yet those talented scholars only have eyes for heavily powdered women…”

Ancient women had many cosmetics, with rice powder topping the list. Made mostly from rice flour, it was entirely natural and sugar-free, much like those modern products merchants boast of. Alternatively, there was lead powder—white lead turned into a paste, dried, ground into powder or formed solid. Used on the face, it created a brilliant white complexion. Though toxic, the saying “a white face hides a hundred flaws” reflected the willingness of women to risk their lives for beauty, a truth unchanged for millennia.

Lady Zhan neither powdered her face nor used rouge or yellow pigments; she regarded beauty and ugliness lightly.

“People powder their faces for a reason,” Bai Hua continued. “You’re lazy and careless in your studies; don’t you know that Eastern Han’s Cai Yong once said: ‘Looking in the mirror and wiping one’s face reflects a pure heart; powdering the face reflects a harmonious heart; adding powder reflects freshness; nourishing the hair reflects obedience; combing reflects order; arranging the hair bun reflects uprightness; grooming the temples reflects neatness.’ If a lady is too lazy to care for her appearance, how can she live with dignity?”

Bai Hua secretly stuck out her tongue, but she never said aloud that Lady Zhan herself showed no fondness for cosmetics.

“You must be thinking: if I say these things, why don’t I follow them myself?”

Bai Hua smiled mischievously, obediently continuing to comb her hair without a word.

Lady Zhan sighed. “You and I are different… you will marry one day.”

“No, no!” Bai Hua covered her ears and stamped her foot. “Madam, you’re at it again—I won’t marry!”

Lady Zhan shook her head and rose, her impossibly long, straight legs barely concealed by white stockings, exuding endless allure.

She returned to the bed, reclining briefly before lifting her head, her jade-like face touched with a chill: “Marry or not, it is your nature. But some matters cannot be left to your whims! Bai Hua, you are very bold.”

Bai Hua’s body trembled, caught off guard. She stared dumbfounded at Lady Zhan. “Madam, you—you…”

“Since five months ago, when my lord spoke, the Absolute Cliff Waterfall area has been a forbidden mountain zone. Even I cannot step there. Why did you encourage Xu You to go? What are your true intentions?”