Chapter Forty-Six: The Person I Am

The art of chess is imbued with the subtlety of power, and since ancient times, has been intimately entwined with the ways of kings. Someone of the Nobleman’s status, naturally, is a master of the game. As for Lu Ying, she possesses a certain talent for chess, but she is just a frail young woman. In the past, when her father was alive, she learned and played, but as life pressed upon her, she played less and less. Thus, Lu Ying is far from being a match for the Nobleman.

Yet she never wished to be his adversary. There is a saying: a person’s style in chess reflects their character. When she played against him, Lu Ying simply wanted him to see the kind of person she was.

And so, throughout the game, Lu Ying’s moves were both fierce and sharp. Where cunning was required, she was ruthless; where harmony was needed, she rammed straight ahead, heedless of finesse. The disparity in skill was evident—within a few moves, the Nobleman had nearly swept her from the board. Gazing at the few stubborn white stones she clung to, he laughed quietly and said, “Still refusing to concede?”

Lu Ying pressed her lips together. Only when he captured another of her pieces did she speak, her voice hoarse but defiant: “Even in defeat, I stand!”

Even in defeat, I stand!

She dared utter such words before him!

The Nobleman’s gaze darkened. He unleashed a relentless series of attacks, blocking all her escape routes, overturning her defenses with a decisive force. Then, fixing her with a deep look, he asked in a low voice, “Even in defeat, you stand?”

Lu Ying slowly gathered up the black and white stones. In the waning sunlight, beads of sweat glistened on the nose of the young woman in men’s attire. Under the Nobleman’s cold, oppressive presence, she tugged her lips into a faint smile and replied, “It’s only a game; it’s not a matter of life or death.”

Once she had placed all the pieces in the wooden box, Lu Ying stood. The tall, slender girl, elegant and sharp in her bearing, raised her head and looked straight at the Nobleman. With a smile, she said, “Some people are like egrets: when they fly free in the fields, they are graceful and beautiful. But lock them in a cage, and they are but white-feathered beasts—nothing more. Hardly worthy of the Nobleman’s appetite!”

With that, she bowed deeply to the Nobleman and declared, “Thank you for your guidance, sir. The Lu family takes its leave.” She tucked the wooden box under her arm and turned away.

Watching the girl’s graceful figure fade from sight, the Nobleman reached up to touch his forehead and let out a low, amused laugh.

As if he had heard his master’s laughter, a man in blue—someone who had met Lu Ying before—approached. He stared at her retreating figure and asked in surprise, “This girl, dressing as a man, changing her name, playing chess—what is she trying to do?”

The Nobleman lifted his head, hands clasped behind his back, and replied with a smile, “She came to tell me that she’s cold and hard and unreasonable. Though she appears beautiful, in truth, she’s nothing more than a white-feathered beast—quite unremarkable.”

“What?”

The Nobleman’s deep voice was tinged with irrepressible mirth. “She’s persuading me to let go.”

The man in blue was startled. After a moment, he exclaimed, “She’s so clever… but how is she so sure you’re genuinely interested in her?”

The Nobleman shook his head. Yet beneath those dark eyes, laughter lingered.

The next day, Lu Ying returned.

Perhaps thanks to the Nobleman’s instructions, this time no one stopped her.

Again, Lu Ying found the Nobleman by the pavilion.

From afar, she watched him bathed in golden light, radiance swirling around his regal, handsome figure. Lu Ying mused inwardly: A man of such stature—does he really need to resort to forceful means against someone like me? Can he not aspire to something greater?

She pursed her lips and shook her head.

Seeing the young woman in men’s attire, now clad in crimson, her features cold yet tender under its hue, the Nobleman curved his lips in a gentle smile. He glanced her way and asked, in a tone both warm and approachable, “No chess today?”

Lu Ying bowed deeply and replied in a clear voice, “Our skills are too far apart; I dare not embarrass myself again.” As she spoke, she drew three books from her sleeve, stepped forward, cleared her throat, and—mimicking the tone of a scholar—said calmly, “I recall you once said I should learn moderation. Today, before you, I wish to read from the classics of the sage Confucius.”

How amusing, truly amusing!

The Nobleman’s eyes flickered. Smiling, he replied, “Oh? I really must listen then.” He seated himself on the couch, raised his head, and watched the “handsome youth” before him, gleaming in the sunlight.

Lu Ying solemnly opened one of the books, walked a few steps, and, facing the light, began to read, swaying as she recited, “…The gentleman is broad-minded; the petty man is perpetually anxious.” Pausing, Lu Ying turned her night-dark eyes upon the Nobleman and said, “The sage truly understands the world’s ways. Take you, sir—a nobleman like yourself. No matter what you do, you remain broad-minded and at ease. Whereas people like me, mere small folk, are plagued by worry and distress.”

Though the text spoke of noble and base character, Lu Ying substituted status for virtue—gentleman for those of rank, petty man for the commoner.

Looking earnestly at the Nobleman, Lu Ying sighed deeply. “Just like me—though it’s only been two days since I last saw my brother, my heart is heavy with concern, troubled and unresolved. Alas.”

Hearing Lu Ying’s drawn-out sigh, the Nobleman’s lips twitched. He took a cup of wine from a maid, sipped it slowly, and replied lightly, “You needn’t worry, Lu Ying.”

He meant, if she would yield to him, her worries would vanish—didn’t he? Clearly, her words yesterday had made no impression at all!

Lu Ying’s face darkened. She answered coolly, “You do not know, sir. I was born in the countryside, used to freedom. I’ve always despised the intrigues among women, dislike the affairs of the inner chambers. I truly don’t understand—so long as one is warm, fed, and has books to read, life is comfortable enough. Why do women rack their brains competing for men? It’s pitiable, truly laughable!”

She spoke bluntly—far too bluntly. For a moment, the four maids flanking the Nobleman stared wide-eyed, and the Nobleman’s hand holding his wine cup froze.

In the ensuing silence, the Nobleman elegantly sipped his wine, ignoring Lu Ying.

Clearly, it was not enough—she had to try harder!

Lu Ying opened another book and continued reading, “Zai Yu sleeps by day. Confucius said: ‘Rotten wood cannot be carved, nor can mud walls be plastered. Why blame Zai Yu?’” Having recited the well-known passage, Lu Ying earnestly explained, “Zai Yu slept in broad daylight. Confucius said: ‘Rotten wood cannot be carved, mud-like walls cannot be plastered. Zai Yu isn’t even worth blaming.’ The sage is right. As for me, I am just such rotten wood and mud—while all other women prize gentleness and submission as virtues, I believe freedom is the true beauty of life, and whatever virtue may be, comfort and ease matter most.”