Chapter 174 — Drinking
Purple Streets of Chang'an · Page 1 of 4
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Ji Yong swaggered through the covered gallery and into the front courtyard.
A crowd of people came toward him, clustered around an old man.
The old man was of middling height, his hair and beard wholly white yet his complexion ruddy. He wore a straight-hemmed robe of sapphire-blue Hangzhou silk, neither new nor old, a small red-agate bottle hanging at his waist, and his eyes were bright and piercing, with a flicker of the curiosity that belonged only to the young.
The moment he caught sight of Ji Yong he began to chuckle. "Jianming, how did you know I was here? I expressly told them not to breathe a word to you. I hear you've been doing well at the Hanlin Academy? Come, let me have a look—have you improved any?"
"Great-grandfather!" Ji Yong's eyes went wide. He whipped his head around and glared ferociously at Zixi, his whole face saying, 'Why didn't you tell me?'
Zixi shrank back and hastened to explain: "It was the two masters who gave the order—they said it was the Old Master's wish to give you a surprise, so we said nothing."
"A shock I can see well enough, but where the joy comes from I can't fathom!" Ji Yong muttered, and stalked over with a stiff face to make his bow and call out, "Great-grandfather."
Old Master Ji reached out by habit to pat Ji Yong's head—only to find that Ji Yong was no longer the callow youth he had been, but a full head taller than the old man himself. He had to raise his hand to reach, and beaming, he said "Good boy"—a scene that could not help but look a little comical.
Ji Song and Ji Qi lowered their eyes and pretended to have seen nothing.
The others likewise turned their heads away.
The corner of Ji Yong's mouth twitched.
Old Master Ji had already taken Ji Yong by the hand, and as they walked he talked: "Where were you off to? It's rare for the whole family to gather under one roof this year—don't go out to play. Keep an old man company. I've brought several inkstones from Jiangnan, tribute from your eldest uncle. Among them is one of Yishui stone and one of Longwei stone. You can give them a look for me." So saying, he glanced back at the grandsons and great-grandsons trailing behind him and laughed. "Later on, each of you take one for your own use."
At this, Ji Yong's several cousins crowded forward to curry favor, thanking Old Master Ji and complaining that he played favorites. "What use is an inkstone without ink? You may as well be a good host to the end, Old Master—grant us a few sticks of pine-soot ink to go with them!"
"I knew I shouldn't have opened my mouth," said Old Master Ji, wearing the look of a man whose heart and flesh alike were being cut. "Open my mouth and it's a great bleeding of my purse. An inkstone, yes, there's one to be had; ink, no. So—do you want them or not?"
Everyone adored the old master, that merry old urchin, and they laughed and clamored, "Naturally we want the inkstones—and the ink besides!"
The whole party went into the hall laughing and joking.
Ji Yong followed at Old Master Ji's side, grimacing as though his teeth ached.
With anyone else, he would not have given them a second glance before walking off. But before Old Master Ji, whom he had never once bested from childhood up, he felt not only the deference owed to an elder but a kind of respect for the stronger man. Unwilling as he was, he sat down with the old master in the hall.
Old Master Ji leaned toward him and said, "Your examination master, His Excellency Yang, cannot praise you enough. He says you understand farming—that you're no ordinary scholar. He thinks so highly of you that, now that I'm here, I must surely call on him. Tomorrow you'll come with me to pay our respects to His Excellency Yang. We're both from South Zhili—a distant relative is no match for a near neighbor. When you've nothing pressing, you ought to go and seek his counsel often."
What was the point of going?