Out in the garden, the young men had found many places for their amusement. With no respite from rain, some were setting up places to compete in their archery skills in sprawling gardens. While some in a quiet little pavilion – standing tall beside a pond, marbled balustrades framing its perimeters, marble steps constructed ingeniously to submerge a great deal into the pond water – sat discussing today’s event.  

They were some twelve young men – dressed quite peculiarly from the rest who had come to visit Weijia. For one, none of them had taken off their fur lined cloaks, or even made themselves comfortable by taking off their woolen mittens, caps and hanging weapons on their chest and their waists –swords clung, sheathed inside their silver scabbards, while a few daggers could be spotted in plain view. A young man had even brought a spear, a golden bell tied to it would ring whenever he moved with it.  Altogether, they made quite an odd spectacle.

A round cap, fur lined at rims, covered their head and their hair, braided in a single braid hung low down to their hips. None of them wore a hair crown. Apart from their peculiar hairstyle, the insignia embroidered over the top of their caps looked strikingly noticeable. It was a magnolia shaped flower circumscribed in a violet circle.

The day was murky; its pitter -pattering showers and soft breezy caresses constantly chilled their faces. For a few, nothing flickered past to entangle their somber gazes; the weather could hardly save their small talks.

How could the melancholic murkiness of a wet, sullen day be any good to praise and speak of any auspicious word? How could the nostalgic air that seeks solitary reprieve be a nice thing to observe upon, especially in the midst of that medley of jubilation that surrounded them? The occasion was such that no proper sentiment could be translated into words – the observations were broken, intermittent and scathingly bland. As such, all of them decisively lingered outside in the pavilion longer, forming their own small group cut out from the rest.

The moss-covered marble pillars, the green-stone pathway leading into shrubbery full garden and leaning willows in their poised elegance, a pond spread close-by at the feet of pavilion and ripples that formed therein at each falling raindrop...puddles reflecting gloomy piece of gray sky…many eyes took it all in and raised a warm cup of tea to their lips. “It’s a beautiful place ––. Green and gray, and hundreds of other enchanting hues. Introspection draws one’s heart closer to itself, and now look – a magnificent feast to a solitary eye.”

“I agree - it's not all that bad. This Jinghai. If it weren’t for Wei Yize’s coming of age ceremony being so out of proportion, we could have enjoyed this trip a lot better. Ah –For one, imagine if it was just a random gathering – this place could have made a perfect place to read some poetry.” Yu Mingyang observed, drawing his sleeves closer together. He stood beside the stone steps descending down into the pond, his white boots almost touching water, but he seemed unconcerned with whether they remained dry or not. 

A few standing closer to him followed his gaze, and saw the green pond, with blooming purple lilies and white lotuses. Each droplet of rain pierced the water like needles, and endless round ripples merged- and then emerged like answering echoes from the bottom. The mist rising from the dark buildings surrounding the pond at faraway opposite shore, seemed to be rolling over the water surface.

It was a poignant moment.

Luo Chen finally broke the long spell of silence. “Most definitely -yes. This rain, as bothersome as it is, seems to be made just for this place. Just this scene - how moving is this? I should have brought my brush and ink.”

“Damn, we forgot so many supplies back at school! Only if they had told us we would be gone for so long – I didn’t even bring my favourite set of knives! Can you believe that?!” Yu Mingyang exclaimed angrily. He took off his cap to fully show his elegant forehead, and then after shaking it a few times, wore it again. “I’ve been separated from my babies for almost fifteen days now. I just want to go back to the academy right away! If only they let us do what we wanted for once.”

“Right now, we don’t even understand why we are even here. Doesn’t that bother you more?” Luo Chen amusedly asked, rising from leaning against the nearby banister. “Anyways, don’t tell me now – I know you don’t care that much. I am bored – Does anyone have a fun anecdote they aren’t embarrassed to share? The rain is not going to let us go anywhere, and we are almost stuck here– for better or worse – together for quite a while so let’s talk. After all, everyone comes from the same academy, and is familiar with everyone else. An Jin, how about you – nothing to say today? Sui Mo?”

“If you put it this way, wouldn’t they have to come entertain their senior brothers – is this how you make requests to your juniors? Have some shame Luo Chen.” Yu Mingyang chastised his friend and then instantly turned towards another person standing close to him and said, “But, Sui Mo here, was talking about a really interesting thing while we shared the carriage. Ask him if he is ready to tell you that – I bet you’ll like it!” 

“Senior brother Yu! I was just randomly talking about some useless things; you don’t want me to share those embarrassing things here, right now?” Sui Mo exasperatedly retorted but then sighed when the others started encouraging him to go on. “Okay, okay, I see. I will say. It’s nothing much – I was just talking about how the editor of “Peony Pavilion –Tales of strange Lands and Beasts” seems to have changed recently – if it was a man named ‘Bamboo Gentleman’ before, then now it’s someone called ‘Empress Orchid’. I just wanted to ask if anyone also thinks that the new editor is a woman or not. It isn’t all that interesting…”

“No, it is. I also saw this the other day but didn’t think much of it – some authors have weird quirk about naming and it can hardly ever show what they are in real life. Didn’t the journal just recently publish a story about a creature called ‘shadow beasts’ who live in the depths of the Boundless ocean? Now when you put it this way, it’s really strange.” Luo Chen replied. “The style has definitely undergone significant changes – if I am correct in my estimates, this was also the first time they used a detailed description of an underwater beasts in their essays. But why do you think the editor’s a woman –?”    

As if finding a small opening, a few of them started talking.

There was much to be dwelt upon – strange tales and incidents, all the popular news or one related to academic discussions, or which angry teacher was beginning to get worse and which sword style suited them best at that moment.

Perhaps owing to the fact that some embarrassment of a sudden meeting had wafted away, the air heated up and the topics were skillfully maneuvered towards more colorful alleys. Many other onlookers joined in the conversation. Soon from the original group of four, the strength grew to seven and then eight.

Everyone had something to say about it.

What else could substitute such perennial topics as swords and warriors, but maidens and their beauty, their virtuosity, and their characters? And so, they talked about that. Did someone hear anything new from the scholar who released that pamphlet called ‘Most Influential Beauties of Dajin’? Was there a mention of the capital city, and its several newly acclaimed accomplished women? Was there someone in it who was completely a surprise? Were they in a relationship, engaged or married?

“They always lie nowadays – over there in these books from the capital! You know the capital people rarely acknowledge other beauties who come from elsewhere. They will have you believe that the rest of Dajin is just full of one-eyed maiden, who breath fire and eat men, ugly hags with bulging noses and flesh bursting out of their seams. It is their selling point at this point – call everyone ugly enough and then highlight the local maidens to make every capital-dweller buy it more enthusiastically. What do you say happens when someone actually falls into their illusion? Does such an idiot even exist?”  

“The world is so large that you cannot definitely say there aren’t. But I guess at least the ones written by outsiders are better. Now all of them share the same titles for beauties – no originality like before, but this, more people get to know how to appreciate this aesthetic better. And you cannot deny why they would do that – it definitely adds to their credibility.”

“Names? The name given did great justice to beauty Wei, the title White lotus certainly suits her.” Luo Chen smiled light heartedly, as he pulled his crimson cloak covering his broad shoulder together, and leaned closer towards the pillar, leaning backwards for support. He looked at the tall young man draped in a silver, white fur lined cloak – Yu Mingyang and said listlessly, “There is some strange innocence in her eyes - I cannot clearly explain what. But when we met today, she felt like that pristine bloom gently cradling morning dew in her heart.” 

"His highness the second prince really appeared at the most opportune time. Before the flower could fully bloom in the spring, it was plucked off. Alas! What can one do but raise a toast to a missed fate." Yu Mingyang turned to catch the fleeting expression of loss reflected on his friend's face. He didn’t dwell on it, just lowered his eyes.

"Nothing unusual to me.” Someone quipped up from the other side of the pavilion. “In fact, I had long expected something of this sort. With such caliber as he has, nothing short would have suited the status of either of them. Or why do you think people swear by the ‘White Lotus of the Western Mountains’? Not even the ‘Peony of the Imperial City’ so celebrated due to her noble heritage and great learning, could ever match Lady White Lotus in her grace! And I also heard that beauty in the capital is actually a childhood friend of his highness. Despite being so well learned, she was never betrothed to him, why do you think that is? He has good eyes, I tell you."

“You talk of Miss Wei, I assume, when you all call her the lady White lotus. I still don’t understand, what is this about those titles? Who keeps a record of these, and who even decided to come up with that?” A boy sitting with his ankles in the nearby pond with the soft shower wetting his cloak's rims looked up.

Sui Mo immediately rolled his eyes at him and took a sip of his warm tea.

An Jin still continued his dialogue, saying, “Come on! Don’t tell me it's common knowledge. How could it be unknown to me if it were so popular – or a common knowledge so to speak – as you claim? All day long, there is someone calling Miss Wei the “White Lotus” and there just happens to be another one – I don’t recall this lady’s name in particular but it goes something like, “The Orchid of Lone Mountains” and whatnot. Flowery titles. Although they sound poetic and quite figurative, who has so much time on their hands to dwell on these things to choose all of them? It exasperates me. That is such a confusing way to remember someone, if you ask me.”

“It’s not for someone like you, at least. All day long, all I see you doing is nothing but plowing through those endless piles of texts of yours. You don’t go to assemblies, never attend an informal meeting with the seniors – and you claim to know what is in vogue or common knowledge…are you kidding? Fine, good for you – you make a good scholar. But please don’t expect others to be the same as you, alright? Normal people read normal things and people like you –? It’s better for you to keep reading stuff in which not even a simile, nor metaphor comes even once. Forget allusions to aesthetics and sentiments – do they even write of those? Just don’t talk as if you know what poetic expressions even mean, brother. You don’t know anything of the sort. How could you know what "The White Lotus of the Western Mountains” means? Don’t pretend or you will only embarrass yourself, An Jin. We know what stuff you are made of.” Sui Mo’s scathing reply left An Jin speechless for a while.

A few of them burst out laughing.

“I do actually come across such expressions more often than you would guess.” An Jin tried to explain himself. “My books that you call dry are not that dry actually – they have a different sort of beauty.”

“Right – only a drunkard can feel the essence of his drink, that exhilarating sip to his tongue.” Luo Chen interjected light heartedly.

“No, but in all seriousness brother Mo.” An Jin asked, changing the topic, “There must be a book you all refer to - right? A kind that names these beauties in such a high-handed manner? Because if it was a spontaneous act of agreement, you wouldn’t all just come together to think of the same title, would you? Let’s just say it happens in one case, but what about other such titles? It cannot be true for all! That can only mean that there is an author of these titles, and naturally, a book too. Why didn’t you ever show it to me –? Are you ashamed of it, brother Mo? Tell me, have I deduced this problem correctly?” In his anticipation to know, An Jin dragged out his wet ankles and started dragging his friend to sit down over the carpet, his arms reaching over his shoulder in a half-embrace.

“Ah! You are such a pain!” Sui Mo exclaimed as he tried to wrestle his body away from his grip. He used a fist to punch An Jin, but as if An Jin peered through his intentions from his side-eyes – he countered with his own and captured the fist in between his open palms.

“Not today, An Jin.” Sui Mo shook his head.

“Why not – a few fists. Look, you started this now, come on brother Mo, let me judge the efforts of your practice these days.” An Jin crouched, his palms still clutching Sui Mo’s fist. His back was tense, pulsing with the rigidness of an arrow ready to be released.

They looked at each other for a moment – then they both broke into a flash, An Jin trying to fight against oncoming fists, and Sui Mo using his taut muscles to get a hit.

Where An Jin flew fluidly like water, flexibly moving and hiding from all the fists aimed at his main bone-points, all of them if properly hit would break a bone with a loud crunching sound; Sui Mo was like a freed up beast, propelling his hands against all forces, appropriately seeking and hitting– again and again, like arrows aimed precisely at its target– he judged all open weakness with his narrowed eyes and captured the rhythm to land a hit.

But An Jin was equally lithe – he always managed to slip away at the last moment like a slippery eel.

“This is good! I really don’t feel bored anymore.” Luo Chen squatted down, watching the ongoing scuffle with a mirthful eye, taking out his white hand-fan and waving it on his face a few times. Yu Mingyang stood beside him equally amused.