Tang Dynasty Xie Lu Lang

Chapter 12: Golden Threaded Robe

Asking for a tombstone to be written for a parent was a perfectly normal act of filial piety, but the tacit agreement and agreement inevitably gave it a tinge of furtiveness. Xu Shen and Liu Sihu assumed Zhang Shuo was being cautious, but they had no idea the young man before them was actually acting in a treacherous manner.

After reaching this consensus, the atmosphere between them warmed up. Xu Shen had his servants bring a lot of wine and food today, but Zhang Luo, after his previous experience, did not drink too much. He ate a simple meal and then took the opportunity to talk to Xu Shen about the dike repair project in Sanchuan Township, Luonan.

Xu Shen had also heard Zhou Liang mention this matter, but he had been waiting for progress from Zhang Luo. Now that he had the tombstone he had been longing for, he immediately said, "Don't worry, my lord. I have already ordered the officials to focus on the dike repair in Sanchuan Township. Now that my long-cherished wish has been fulfilled, I will go to the government office tomorrow to bid farewell to the envoy and return home. However, Zhou Lushi will be keeping an eye on the follow-up and will ensure that everything is completed smoothly!"

"Xu Shicao is a man of great filial piety and decisiveness, truly admirable. With this toast, I wish Xu Shicao a safe journey home!"

Upon hearing that Xu Shen was about to resign and return home to rebury his deceased father, Zhang Luo also filled a glass of wine and offered him his congratulations. The Tang people revered filial piety, even resigning their official positions at will, as is evident from this.

Xu Shen's long-cherished wish had been fulfilled, and since he had to prepare to resign and return home, he didn't linger long. He had a few drinks before saying goodbye and leaving. As for the money and silk he had sent to the Zhou family earlier, he naturally kept it. Liu Sihu, from Bianzhou, went with him, and they had agreed to deliver the promised 100 strings of cash and silk in the evening.

Zhang Luo had been worried about not having enough money before, and he went to the farm in the south of the city to sell off his belongings, but he didn't get much. It turned out that his way of doing things was wrong. Now he found the right way, and in just a few days he got at least two hundred strings of cash.

He had done some careful research over the past two days and realized that these two hundred strings of cash were enough to buy a courtyard house in one of the more remote areas of Luoyang City. While it wasn't a huge sum of money, it was undoubtedly a good start.

Zhang Luo had no intention of taking the 100 strings of cash he had already acquired back to the Zhang family. The money was a secret, and the Zhang family mansion was crowded with people, including his own farm in the south of the city, which might be under the watchful eye of those with ulterior motives. So, he had decided to keep the money at the Zhou family.

"Madam Zhou has been ill for a long time and needs nourishment. My family does not need this money to buy rice for cooking now, so please leave it here. Secretary Zhou can take it as needed."

After seeing the two off and returning to Zhou's house, Zhang Luo said to Zhou Liang again.

Zhou Liang's face changed when he heard this, and he shook his head repeatedly, saying, "How can this be... I already accepted the gifts that my husband sent me a few days ago. Even if he had done me a small favor before, I have already repaid him. How can I dare to accept such a huge sum of money now!"

"Recordary Zhou should be aware of my family's circumstances. I cannot refuse to accept these money and silk. If I rashly send them back to the mansion, it will only cause criticism. Money and silk are dead objects. If they are scattered like dirt, or piled up like a pile without use, they will ultimately be of no benefit to mankind. Moreover, if Recordary Zhou had not saved me, my flesh and blood would no longer exist in this world. How can this be considered a small favor?"

Although Zhang Luo loved money, he didn't take pleasure in hoarding it. He always believed that money was only worth spending. Before leaving the Zhang family, he had no other options for spending money. He smiled and said to Zhou Liang, "I have no worries about food and clothing now, and I don't need these coins and silks urgently. I would like to use these useless dead things to repay the kindness of Zhou Lushi. Please don't refuse and hinder my wisdom in dealing with the world."

Zhou Liang was about to refuse, but Zhou Lang, standing beside him, knelt down before Zhang Luo and said to his father, "Since my dear husband is so kind, please don't refuse. My mother has to rely on inferior medicine to maintain her vitality every day. It's really hard. If she can get good medicine to nourish her, she can also relieve some of her pain."

Although my father and I failed to accomplish our mission, we still have our lives. My husband doesn't value money, but he values ​​my father and me. Why should I refuse such an appreciation? I will give you money today, but if you need my life tomorrow, all you need to do is give me a word. If you retreat, heaven and earth will not tolerate it!

After saying this, the young man Zhou Lang kowtowed heavily to Zhang Luo, then rolled up his sleeves, bit his arm to draw blood, smeared the blood on his cheeks and beat his chest as an oath.

Seeing his son say this, Zhou Liang no longer refused. He bowed deeply to Zhang Luo and said, "I am six feet tall, but I cannot settle down and support my family. Fortunately, my husband appreciates my kindness and generous gifts, which enable me to support my old wife. I will always remember your deep love and noble character. I entrust my life to you!"

Zhang Luo was deeply moved by the father and son's solemn statement. While he certainly wasn't trying to buy their lives with the money, he was deeply relieved to hear such a promise. He had initially been reluctant to drink, but he found some leftover wine and downed a few more with the Zhou father and son. Finally, drunkenly, with Ah Ying's help, he mounted his horse and prepared to return to the city. Zhou Liang had to stay home to look after his wife, so he sent his son, Zhou Lang, to accompany Zhang Luo home.

On the way back, Zhang Luo felt very happy when he thought about how he had found the track he was good at, how he was able to accumulate capital quickly, and how he had solved the difficulties of the farm. With the spring breeze on his face and the wine in his mouth, all the worries in his heart disappeared.

When the city was about to enter through Yongtong Gate in the east, a carriage filled with fragrance passed by on the avenue. The cheerful laughter and singing of female entertainers came from the carriage, attracting many passers-by to chase and admire, and some even sang along.

Zhang Luo heard the words sound unfamiliar, and the tune wasn't particularly beautiful. Taking advantage of a frivolous and cheerful mood, he shook his head and sighed, "Such vulgar words and tunes, so vulgar!"

This comment immediately drew the ire of some of the admirers following behind the carriage. A middle-aged man on a turquoise horse pointed at Zhang Luo and said unhappily, "Young man, what a boast! This is a cliché. Do you have any new words to cheer me up?"

This question hit home with Zhang Luo. In his later life, he had once dated a schoolmate who loved the rhythms of ancient Chinese poetry and often composed music for her own amusement. Influenced by this, Zhang Luo had developed a certain understanding of the rhythms of ancient Chinese poetry. He didn't directly respond to the middle-aged man's provocation. Instead, he pulled his horse closer to Ah Ying, who was riding a donkey beside him. He said to the pretty girl with a smile, "Today I'll teach you a new song. Sing it after you learn it! I urge you not to waste your golden clothes, but to cherish your youth. Pick the flowers when they are ready, don't wait until they are gone, just pluck the branches!"

Ah Ying naturally obeyed her own Ah Lang's orders, and the lyrics of the song Ah Lang sang were indeed pleasant to the ears, so she immediately began to learn to sing it seriously.

The girl's singing voice was even more ethereal and pleasant. As soon as she started singing, she immediately attracted the attention of the passers-by nearby. The singing of the courtesans in the fragrant carriage in front stopped abruptly. Many courtesans in gorgeous costumes in the carriage leaned out to look and listen. When they saw that the girl was simply dressed but bright and charming, with a beautiful face and a sweet voice, and the young man accompanying her was even more handsome, these courtesans could not help but show envy and yearning.

"I advise you not to be stingy with your golden embroidered clothes..."

The middle-aged man who had provoked the young man earlier was also surprised when he heard this unprecedented melody, and could not help but sing along. He savored it for a long time, and when he turned around to ask the young man who wrote this new song, the young man and his beautiful maid had already entered the city and blended into the crowd on the long street.

Losing sight of the young man, the middle-aged man's face was filled with regret. The more he rehearsed and savored the song, the more he liked it. He rode his horse to the side of the carriage and asked the courtesans inside, "Do you remember the tune we just played?"

"My Lord, I've remembered everything!"

It turned out that the female entertainers in this car were all slaves of the middle-aged man. After hearing the question, they answered quickly, and some of them even started singing. Their voices might not be as ethereal and pleasant as the young girl's before, but the tune was exactly the same, showing their superb singing skills.

Passersby were all envious of the middle-aged man's good fortune as he rode out in a luxurious carriage filled with beautiful prostitutes. The middle-aged man ignored their envious glances and simply frowned, pondering, "Mr. Zhang Ling is the master of poetry in his time. We have this newly composed song. If we go and visit it, we might be able to learn who wrote it. Let's change our route and pay a visit to Mr. Zhang Ling's residence!"

After entering the city, the middle-aged man led his entourage straight to Zhang Shuo's residence in Kangsufang. It was already evening when they arrived at the Zhang family's gate. After the visiting card was handed in, Zhang Jun strode out to greet him. He bowed and said to the middle-aged man who had dismounted from his horse, "My father has just returned home from self-reflection. He said he hadn't heard from Brother Ziyu in a few days and felt bored. And now Brother Ziyu is here."

"Don't you think I'm coming to you again to get you a meal?"

The middle-aged man was named Wang Han, with the courtesy name Zi Yu. He was from Taiyuan, Bingzhou. Zhang Shuo had admired his talent very much when he served as the Chief Clerk of Bingzhou in his early years. After he became the prime minister, he also promoted Wang Han to serve as an official in the court. Therefore, Wang Han could be regarded as Zhang Shuo's disciple, and they had a very close relationship.

The two of them chatted and laughed as they entered the mansion and went up to the hall. Sitting in the hall was an elderly man dressed in traditional Chinese clothing. He was the owner of the mansion, Zhang Shuo.

Although Zhang Shuo was already sixty years old, with white hair and beard, he was still vigorous and handsome, with an air of commanding nobility between his brows. Seeing Wang Han coming, he raised his hand and pointed at him, saying with a smile: "This fellow is dressed in riding clothes for traveling. I believe he has just returned from a trip and hurried here before he even got home. He must have come here to show off his talent by reciting a few poems."

"Your Excellency is so perceptive! Nothing can escape your keen eyes!"

Wang Han laughed loudly after hearing this, and then waved his hand and said, "I am showing off in the hall today. I did not recite it, but picked it up on the road."

While he was speaking, he did not take a seat. Instead, he walked into the hall and clapped his hands and began to sing: "I urge you not to cherish your golden clothes, but to cherish your youth..."

Wang Han was a man of great talent and a master of musical rhythm. He came from a wealthy family, rivaling even the nobility. He had many fine horses in his stables and entertained musicians at home. He was also a man of generosity and open-mindedness, unconcerned with small matters. His rendition of "Golden Threaded Clothes" lacked the melodious rhythm of a woman's voice, but possessed a distinct sense of generosity and grandeur.

After listening to Wang Han's singing, Zhang Shuo and his son in the hall both had their eyes light up. Especially Zhang Shuo, although he was in a high position and had great power, his temples were already gray and his youth was gone. After hearing the lyrics of this song, he felt even more sad and nostalgic. So much so that after Wang Han finished singing a few times, he couldn't help but recite it in a low voice: "When there are flowers to be picked, pick them immediately. Don't wait until there are no flowers and you have to pluck empty branches, pluck empty branches... Although the lyrics are frank and simple, they are recited with a deep and meaningful meaning. Compared with Wang Ziyu's old song "Don't laugh at me sleeping drunk on the battlefield, how many have ever returned from the battles in history?", it has a similar free and easy artistic conception!"

Wang Han nodded repeatedly after hearing this and said, "So when I heard this song, I loved it so much that I considered it a close friend. I was eager to share it with you, sir. I also wanted to ask you, sir, who wrote this song?"

"This is the first time I've heard this song. How can I know who composed it? Since Ziyu asked, why don't you find out the truth?"

Zhang Shuo shook his head upon hearing this. He also greatly admired the poem and wanted to know its author. However, after listening to Wang Han's story of how he had heard it on the road before, he sighed with disappointment and said, "If it's a new work by a famous person, it wouldn't be difficult to find out about it. But if it's a talent buried in the grass, I'm afraid we'll have to wait until their talent is exposed and stands out!"

(End of this chapter)