Chapter Eighty-Seven: Youthful Companions

Zhang Qian had no idea that Bi Gou’s grand gesture of throwing open his mansion’s front gates to welcome him carried layers of meaning. Nor did he know that his impulsive act of righteous indignation had swept him into a vast whirlpool. Seeing Bi Gou, despite his advanced age, come out personally to greet him, Zhang felt thoroughly uneasy, hastening forward to return the courtesy.

But even if he had known, he would not have cared much.

First, he was a fake disciple of the Mohist school. Whether the Mohists as a group could carve out a place for themselves in the political arena of the Tang Dynasty had nothing to do with him.

Second, others avoided Bi Gou for fear of being dragged down and having their official careers stunted. Zhang Qian, however, had entered officialdom purely so that, as an official, he could avoid the extortion of corrupt bureaucrats. Promotion or lack thereof was, for now, of little concern to him.

Third, based on those scattered fragments from his middle school history textbooks, he was convinced that any high office or great fortune at present was but fleeting smoke. Among the imperial clan of the Tang, the one who would have the last laugh would surely be Li Longji. The higher one climbed now, the more glorious one appeared, the worse they might fare when Li Longji ascended the throne. Rather than wear oneself out scheming for a dream, it was better, as Guo Nu said, to seek some peace.

Most importantly, at this moment, though Zhang Qian harbored some vague hopes for his own future and that of the Tang, he had yet to work out any concrete path to fulfilling them. In other words, high rank and the role of imperial mentor were not part of his life plan, so he could truly remain unburdened by ambition.

Thus, while others shunned Bi Gou as though he were plague, Zhang could stride into his home openly, bringing along blueprints and models. While others, after exchanging a few words with Bi Gou, fled as though they could not escape fast enough, Zhang entered the old man’s house, drank tea, shared a meal, and did not take his leave until the red sun dipped low in the sky. And when he departed, he wore a face full of delight, as though a thousand-pound weight had been lifted from his heart.

When a man is in good spirits, the world seems pleasing. Walking from Bi Gou’s house to the city gate, the pavilions and pleasure houses along the way all appeared gilded by the sunset’s golden light, resplendent and stately. The men and women passing by, too, were strikingly handsome and beautiful, each one brimming with youthful energy.

Even the cooking smoke in the autumn wind carried a subtle fragrance, which, mingling with the wine in his belly, left him faintly dizzy and at a loss as to where he was.

Just as he was admiring the scene, a voice called out from ahead and to the left. “Pray tell, is this the carriage of Zhang, the registrar of the Gunpowder Bureau? Wang here pays his respects!”

“Who?” Zhang Qian quickly drew his gaze back from afar. Through the thin silk curtain of his carriage window, he saw Wang Zhihuan and Wang Han, both grinning as they clasped their fists in greeting.

“Brothers, what brings you here?” Zhang Qian was both startled and delighted. He didn’t even think to tell his coachman to stop; instead, he pushed open the carriage door and leaped out in one bound. “It’s been days since we met—I was just wondering where to find you!”

The latter half was no mere pleasantry. With Six Spirits Floral Dew selling ever more briskly, how to maintain its air of refinement and mystery had become a pressing issue. Drawing on twenty-first-century marketing examples, celebrity endorsements and added cultural value were the top two strategies.

In the current Tang cultural scene, in terms of fame and standing, Wang Zhihuan, Wang Han, and Zhang Jiuling were clearly not on par with He Zhizhang and Zhang Ruoxu. However, He Zhizhang and Zhang Ruoxu, by virtue of their age, were only suitable to endorse white spirits, certainly not a youthful product like floral dew.

Moreover, Zhang Qian doubted he could persuade those two venerable gentlemen to pen verses for white spirits and Six Spirits Floral Dew. So, while the names of Wang Zhihuan, Wang Han, and Zhang Jiuling were not yet too prominent, it was best to “snare” the three of them first.

“You wanted to find us?” Wang Zhihuan and Wang Han could not guess Zhang Qian’s true intentions, thinking he was only making polite conversation. They smiled and shook their heads. “Why do you need us—did your family’s good wine prove too much to finish, so you want us to help you out?”

“Exactly! You’re getting more eloquent by the day! Now you’re an official of the eighth rank—what business could you have with us two scholars?”

“That’s not fair, gentlemen!” Zhang Qian, catching the teasing tone, hastily waved his hands. “I had fresh floral dew made at my estate just recently and asked Uncle Zhang to send some over to you both. Did you receive it? How was it?”

No sooner had he finished speaking than Wang Zhihuan pulled a long face and tugged at Zhang’s sleeve. “Ah, don’t mention it. If not for that Six Spirits Floral Dew, I wouldn’t be waiting at the city gate for your carriage!”

“A man of eight feet—what use have I for floral dew? I exchanged it for fine wine. But ever since I tasted your chrysanthemum white, no other drink can compare!” Wang Han, not to be outdone, grabbed Zhang’s other sleeve.

This, in fact, was why they hailed him. Their meeting was no coincidence; they had calculated when he would leave work and come to wait for him. Scholars, after all, are proud; they would not go so far as to wait at the Bureau of Armaments, but implicitly agreed to wait here by the city gate.

“Jiling, what do you mean—did the Six Spirits Floral Dew cause you trouble?” Zhang Qian, thoroughly confused, turned to Wang Zhihuan.

“Ah, well, didn’t I just enter the academy?” Wang Zhihuan sighed, cheeks reddening with embarrassment and helplessness. “Uncle Zhang’s servant brought the floral dew straight to the Four Gates Academy. Two classmates from Chang’an asked nicely for it; I couldn’t refuse and gave it to them. I’m sorry, brother—truly, I meant no disrespect. I just underestimated the value of that floral dew. From the next day on, every classmate who couldn’t buy any at the shop came to my door—some even brought their sisters along…”

“Pfft!” Zhang Qian couldn’t help but burst out laughing, imagining the youthful Wang Zhihuan trapped in a classroom by a pack of Chang’an girls. “Sorry, Jiling, I’m not laughing at you—just at the boldness of the girls in Chang’an!”

“Bold is an understatement! If he can’t get more floral dew, his place will be torn apart!” Wang Han, ever the mischievous friend, jumped in, “As for how many are after the dew and how many are after Jiling himself, I couldn’t say. Either way—hahaha! Jiling, don’t hit me, or you’ll only make it more obvious!”

“As if you’re so innocent!” Wang Zhihuan gave Wang Han a couple of half-hearted punches, but seeing his friend dodge so nimbly, gave up in resignation. “Brother Zhang, I fancy myself your close friend, able to get chrysanthemum white with ease. Yet I’ve failed to deliver on that promise, and someone’s been crashing at my place for days now.”

“I’m only protecting you—didn’t want you to die of embarrassment, so I found an excuse!” Wang Han refused to admit anything, firmly latching onto the fact that Wang Zhihuan had been besieged by a horde of girls.

Watching their youthful faces, Zhang Qian was reminded of his own college days. In the twenty-first century, Wang Zhihuan and Wang Han would be freshmen and sophomores—talented, handsome, and well-off. It was no wonder they’d become the targets of the famously bold Chang’an girls!

“There’s plenty of floral dew and chrysanthemum white—just not in my carriage!” Remembering the campus poets, idolized by starry-eyed girls just for a handful of verses, Zhang Qian gazed at Wang Zhihuan and Wang Han with a touch of brotherly warmth.

That youth, those loves, in another world, had nothing to do with him. But whether in that world or this one, he was willing to bless and help others to have what he could not.