Chapter 371 — Drunk

"Eight horses! Five champions..."

In the flower hall, the most elegantly appointed room in the house.

Ji Yong, his expression unchanged, stretched out an arm from his rolled-up sleeve and pointed at the cup before Song Yan.

Song Yan said not a word; he smiled, raised his cup, and drained it.

Once more the cry of "Seven stars shining!" rang through the flower hall.

Then it was Ji Yong's turn to drink.

Ma Youming looked at the cup before him, which had not stirred, then at the wine jars stacked in a corner of the hall, and asked Dou Yong under his breath, "What is going on here? I have not touched a drop to this moment."

Dou Yong, his face red with embarrassment, hurriedly raised his cup. "Let me drink a cup with you, Sir Ma."

But Ma Youming shook his head and covered his cup with his hand. "Don't break the rules — that would spoil the sport."

Dou Yong's face was red as a bolt of cloth. "I don't know how to play the finger game. Suppose we try drinking verses instead?"

A flicker of amusement passed through Ma Youming's eyes. He scratched his head. "But I don't know any drinking verses. All I can do is the finger game!"

"Then... what are we to do?" Dou Yong said helplessly.

Truly, too much book-learning addles a man!

Ma Youming shook his head to himself.

What was to be done?

Why, find some way to separate those two.

Otherwise, on a day of great joy, if they drank themselves senseless, would that not make trouble for the Zhao family?

So he grumbled inwardly.

He clapped a hand on Song Yan's shoulder and laughed. "Young Heir, let me exchange a few rounds with Sir Ji? Watching the two of you drink so boldly has set my heart itching."

Song Yan, ever generous, pushed him away with a smile. "You are a guest here. Today Sir Ji is the guest of honor — do bear with it a while."

And are you not a guest yourself?

Ji Yong muttered this to himself, then said with a smile, "One man drinks, two men drink — a crowd has never frightened me. Why don't the three of us play at once? Why must the Young Heir keep Sir Ma at such a distance?"

The implication being that he was not afraid even if Song Yan called in a helper — only that Song Yan might refuse for the sake of face.

Do not court a fine name, as the Hegemon of Chu did.

Song Yan was not to be taken in. He laughed. "It seems Sir Ji is not much of a hand at the finger game — with three men playing, each must naturally keep his own score. Sir Ji is a trifle too suspicious."

A covert jab at Ji Yong's lack of nerve.

Ji Yong raised an eyebrow at Ma Youming in contempt.

Ma Youming did in fact mean to join forces with Song Yan, but he was by nature blunt and straightforward, and held strength in honor; he would not stoop to a war of words. Nor, of course, did he take Ji Yong's sarcasm to heart. He smiled, raised his cup, and said, "This cup I drain first, in respect," and with that formally joined their party.

...

Only this time it was Ma Youming who had to drink.

Song Yan and Ji Yong both stared at Ma Youming.

Ma Youming could only say awkwardly, "Suppose we try drinking verses instead?"

Ji Yong curled his lip. "Only I fear the Young Heir will not agree!"

Song Yan smiled faintly, a smile reserved and warm. "I am merely a companion at the feast. So long as Sir Ji is pleased, what would I not agree to? Only — a wine cup is too small for the sport. I think — bring bowls."

Ji Yong gave a cold laugh. Glancing up, he saw a set of ivory dominoes lying on the side table. His eyes shifted; he called a maid in and told her to bring several large sea-bowls, then rose, took up a few tiles at random and set them on a black-lacquered tea tray painted in gold with crabapple blossoms. "Then let these few dominoes be our lots," he said. "Each of us shall make a line of seven characters. What does the Young Heir say?"

Dou Huaide, who had sat by in silence all this while, spoke up.

Drinking verses — that was the strong suit of men of letters.

And in these days all men wore themselves out over the Four Books; few took any pains with poetry. Even his Seventh Uncle had not the heart to test Song Yan — plain proof that Song Yan's verse was mediocre. Be that as it may, Song Yan was his brother-in-law, and Ji Yong's uncanny brilliance was known to all; who could tell what he was plotting? He could not stand by and watch Song Yan quietly lose.

"Drinking verses is all the better the more players there are," he said, feigning not to see how matters stood. "Let me join in too?"

Song Yan saw that Dou Huaide meant to stand up for him, and was all the less willing to have him drawn in.

He took the tray and turned the dominoes one by one face down. "Then let me be the master of the game?"

Dou Huaide had no choice but to push the tray over to Dou Yong. "Better my elder brother be master of the game! I will drink with my cousin — and the Fourth... Fourth Son-in-law here!"

Song Yan called him 'brother-in-law' at every turn, and he had grown used to calling Song Yan 'Fourth Brother-in-law'; but faced with Ji Yong's cold features, he improvised and gave Song Yan the more respectful title of 'Fourth Son-in-law.'

Ji Yong's face indeed darkened at this, but he did not press the point; he motioned to Dou Yong to draw a tile.

Dou Yong looked: it was "A Branch of Spring."

The rule was a bit of a nuisance, but at least it was not too obscure; whether this Lord Ma could follow it, though, was another matter.

He threw a worried glance at Ma Youming, who did not know how to play the game, recited, "Snowy ravines, hoar-white and vast, and painted brows of green," and drank down a bowl of wine.

Passable enough, and no different from his own.

Ma Youming looked a little embarrassed at that; smiling, he said to Dou Yong, "By the thatched hall and jade steps, a hidden fragrance rises," and drank his wine.

That was beyond anything Dou Yong had expected.

Ji Yong followed with "On the emerald pond the apricot rain spreads white brocade," and then looked toward Song Yan.

Song Yan drank his wine unhurriedly and said with a smile, "Willow leaves at the last, and blossoms dancing in the air."

Not a word of winter in the whole line, and yet it painted a winter scene with the stuff of spring.

Ji Yong's eyes narrowed slightly.

Dou Yong and Dou Huaide breathed out in relief.

Dou Huaide drained the wine before him and said with a laugh, "The sun is warm on paulownia blooms; my sleeves are full of wind."

The banker, of all people, had lost.

Dou Yong drank a great bowl along with him, then drew the One Bamboo.

The corner of Ma Youming's mouth lifted so faintly it was almost invisible.

The Heir was best at this sort of bookish drinking game; finger-guessing, by contrast, was not his strong suit at all.

And Lord Ji had picked the very thing the Heir did best to try conclusions with him. If he did not lose, there would be ghosts.

The sound of recited verse rose in the room.

Soon Dou Yong had put away seven or eight great bowls, and his face was so red it looked as though blood might drip from it.

Ma Youming could not bear to watch; he took the tray of tallies and became the banker himself.

It was Ma Youming who did the drinking now.

Ma Youming bellowed inwardly.

How was it that every one of the Dou family's relatives was such a terror? It seemed that whoever took the banker's seat was bound to come off worst.

Luckily his capacity was good; it would be a while yet before it got the better of him.

Ji Yong began to quote the classics. With every ivory tile he turned up, he added another rule, until at last he had confined the composing of verses to the Four Books and the Five Classics.

Song Yan, his face fair as jade still, drank and played the game with elegance; only Dou Huaide was to be pitied. It was a long while before he managed a single line. Dou Yong, drunker still, produced lines that had nothing to do with the theme, and Ma Youming simply acknowledged his forfeits.