Chapter Six: That Tale of Wind, Flowers, Snow, and Moon (Part One)

“Another one here to pry into the business of the Six-Spirit Floral Water?” Zhang Qian furrowed his brows slightly, a sudden sense of caution stirring within him. Yet, before he could decide how to respond, Guo Nu seamlessly took over the conversation. “Li Fengyu has come to the wrong person. My senior brother merely provided the formula. Coming from a scholarly family, he would never personally manage such a lowly trade as commerce. The Six-Spirit Floral Water business actually belongs to one of my relatives. If Boss Gao is interested, he’s welcome to negotiate with him privately.”

“Oh, so it’s a Guo family enterprise. No wonder the Floral Water took Chang’an by storm as soon as it was launched!” Li Qi feigned sudden realization, smiling as he turned toward Guo Nu and lightly cupped his hands. “Would you mind helping to introduce my relative to your kin? Otherwise, if I go unannounced, I fear he might throw me out!”

“Not at all. Li Fengyu and my senior brother took to each other at once. Since Boss Gao is your relative, it will surely be an easy matter,” Guo Nu replied with a smile, cupping his hands in return. Unconsciously, his elbows fluttered lightly like wings. “I’ll have him take the initiative to approach Boss Gao. Incidentally, I’ve heard there’s someone looking to release some shares. If Boss Gao is willing to invest, he’d be more than eager!”

“I wouldn’t dare trouble your relative to seek him out. Another day, I’ll have Boss Gao host a gathering and invite your relative to join us for drinks,” Li Fengyu said, his face beaming with joy, his words growing more courteous. “Besides, the Gao family has some business matters in the Eastern Capital that require advice. Your relative, being well-versed and experienced, might as well lend a hand.”

As the saying goes, a resonant drum needs no heavy beating. In just a few words, both sides had tacitly agreed on the terms of the deal. Guo Nu’s relative would transfer a portion of the second or third phase shares of the Six-Spirit Commercial House to Li Qi’s relative, Gao Shouyi. In return, Gao Shouyi would offer some industries in the Eastern Capital, inviting Guo Nu’s relative to buy in.

As for who ultimately held these shares, both parties were perfectly clear but, adhering to the Tang Dynasty officials’ tradition against engaging in commerce, they feigned ignorance.

Although Zhang Qian was the largest shareholder of the Six-Spirit Commercial House, since its founding, he had only spoken a few times and never personally handled any affairs. Watching the exchange between Guo Nu and Li Qi today, he suddenly realized that doing business in the Tang Dynasty was not as simple as he had previously thought.

Had Guo Nu not stepped forward just now, Zhang Qian would have had to choose between refusal or acceptance of Li Qi’s request. The former would undoubtedly offend Li Qi and sour their relationship, while the latter would put him in a passive position and violate the Tang official’s “moral code,” damaging his reputation—though, admittedly, Zhang Qian had yet to build much of one.

With Guo Nu’s intervention, the matter became one between “some unpromising relative” of Li Qi and “some unpromising clansman” of the Guo family. Whether the negotiations succeeded or failed, no one’s face was lost, nor was the friendship between Li Fengyu and Zhang Shaojian harmed.

Moreover, Li Fengyu, Zhang Shaojian, and Registrar Guo all treated money as dirt, pure as white lotuses.

“So this is how business is done!” Zhang Qian wasn’t the only one sweating silently by the sidelines. Zhou Jianliang, who had intended to return to the Shuofang army immediately and start a peat-digging enterprise with his comrades, was also wide-eyed and dumbfounded.

Based on his earlier ideas, not only would he, a newly appointed fifth-rank courageous captain, become a mere peat merchant, but his direct superior Zhang Renyuan’s lifetime reputation might also be sullied. Comparing his vision to the approach Guo Nu and Li Qi were displaying, the difference was glaringly clear.

Shaken, Zhou Jianliang resolved to have a few more sparring matches with Guo Nu before returning to the Shuofang army—not for any other reason but to soak in Guo Nu’s business acumen, even if it meant being overwhelmed a few times.

Of course, if he could persistently persuade the Guo family to send a business expert to the Shuofang army to provide guidance, or have Zhang Qian, Guo Nu, and Ren Cong join forces in the peat-digging venture, that would be even better. The three brothers would be more devoted in their plans for the Shuofang army, and the army wouldn’t owe them more and more favors.

Lost in thought, the “deal” between Li Qi and Guo Nu was already concluded. The two raised their small wine cups in a toast and, without mentioning their relatives again, shifted the conversation toward the romantic pleasures of Chang’an.

Unlike the Ming Dynasty under Zhu Yuanzhang, which despised officials who squandered public funds on food and drink, the Tang Dynasty still enjoyed the lingering glow of the Yonghui era’s governance, maintaining fiscal balance. Officials were not only allowed to spend public funds freely but were even permitted to use them to entertain with courtesans.

Thus, the entertainment industry in Chang’an flourished, embracing diversity. From Japan and Goguryeo to Persia and Byzantium, courtesans and dancers from all nations competed to showcase their charms in the capital. Their refreshing music, dance, and the indecent acts abhorred by upright gentlemen drained the purses of many young men.

Li Qi was about the same age as Zhang Qian; Guo Nu was just twenty, and Ren Cong two years younger. With Zhou Jianliang’s military experience, their discussion about love and pleasure became increasingly congenial.

Li Qi, a former officer of the Shangnian Bureau, must have often accompanied the “big boss” and seen much of the world. He offered insightful views on music, dance, and women, occasionally breaking into impromptu singing under the influence of wine, captivating all with lingering melodies.

“Though Chang’an is the most prosperous place of our time—with exquisite food and entertainment—our calligraphy and paintings surpass all nations, yet in music and dance, it remains a regret. The style is too refined, often alienating people, or too vulgar to be accepted in respectable homes,” Li Qi declared, slapping the table enthusiastically as the gourd of wine neared empty. “By contrast, Persia and Byzantium offer ever-changing tunes and more alluring dances. Even the Turks and Tuyuhun excel far beyond our Tang people in this art!”

“That’s because you haven’t seen the sword dance of the Qin family!” Zhang Qian, after drinking over four taels of white liquor, heatedly retorted, slurring his words. “Her sword dance blends softness with strength…”

Just as he was about to boast of the splendid sword dance and calligraphy display by Zhang Xu on that day, Li Qi, drunk, interrupted, “But it carries too much martial air; it’s not as graceful or captivating as the Persian dances!”

“In that case, you need not argue with me!” Li Qi waved his hand decisively. “Though you sons of Moism are learned, you’re not as specialized in this as I am. I’ve studied instruments from age eight to fifteen. Haha, while I can’t discern errors as Zhou Lang of the Three Kingdoms did by ear, I’m not far off.” (Note: “Zhou Lang” refers to Zhou Yu.)

“I must admit defeat then!” Zhang Qian, whose understanding of music and dance was superficial at best, had no stomach for further debate. He raised his cup and sipped, conceding graciously.

Unexpectedly, Zhou Jianliang, slightly tipsy, slapped the table and countered Li Qi sharply: “Martial spirit isn’t necessarily bad. To me, our Tang army’s strength and spirit are what count. We should capture all the khans, chanyus, and their concubines and children, bring them to Chang’an to play music and dance whenever we wish. Those who perform earnestly deserve a few copper coins; those who don't get a whipping! That’s better than the Persians, whose graceful dances didn’t save their entire nation from being enslaved by the Arabs. Even their princes had to beg on the streets to escape to Chang’an!” (Note: Ancient Persia was destroyed by Arabs; its prince sought aid in Tang China and briefly established the Persian Protectorate. During Emperor Gaozong’s late reign, internal strife left Tang unable to support Persia further, leading to its fall.)