Chapter 38: A Heart Full of Devotion

After Luan Yi stepped out, Guo Jia and the others hurried after him in a row. Cao Cao smacked his lips and exclaimed, “Ziqi truly doesn’t know how to cherish beauty. Did you see how that young lady was crying when you left? Ah… it breaks one’s heart.”

Luan Yi smiled at Cao Cao. “Life must always have its regrets, must it not?” Then, he gave Cao Cao a deep bow. “Brother Cao, I’ll take my leave first. I look forward to sharing a hearty drink with you another day.”

Cao Cao returned the bow. “Take care, all of you. I hope we meet again soon.”

He casually took the reins from Luan Fu, and the Eight Talents of Yingchuan mounted their horses one after another, riding out at a gentle pace. After they had gone several dozen paces, they looked back at the Plum Blossom Garden, only to see Cao Cao still standing at the door, watching them depart—a sight that warmed the heart.

Xun Yu came alongside Luan Yi, asking, “Ziqi, what do you think of Lord Cao?”

“He is truly a hero of the age!” Luan Yi thought for a moment before giving his answer.

“A hero?” Xun Yu was puzzled. In his mind, heroes belonged only to the battlefield. But this Cao Cao—short, dark-skinned—surely looked nothing like one. “Why do you say so, Ziqi?”

Luan Yi offered no further explanation, replying mysteriously, “You will understand in time, my brother.”

By the time they returned to the Cai residence, night had deepened. Cai Yan had yet to sleep; under the moonlight, she rested her chin in her hand, dozing in the garden. When she saw that Luan Yi and the others had not stayed overnight at the Plum Blossom Garden, she finally felt at ease. After greeting Luan Yi, she returned to her boudoir, her face wreathed in smiles.

The night passed without incident. The next morning, after breakfast, Cai Yan came looking for Luan Yi, inviting him to stroll through the city with her.

Luan Yi was eager to take in the sights of the capital, and now, with a lovely companion by his side, he agreed gladly. Before they left, he made a point of sending Guo Jia and the other brothers elsewhere, lest these persistent followers spoil their time alone.

Cai Yan brought her maid, while Luan Yi called on Luan Fu and Xiao Cui. The five of them set out together, heading for the East Market of Luoyang.

After every tenth day of the month—on the 10th, 20th, and 30th—Luoyang hosted a grand market. Traders and laborers from the capital region would flood into the city, gathering at the eastern market to do business. There were stalls for jewelry, cosmetics, medicine, furs, calligraphy, fortune-telling, and livestock—everything one could imagine, with peddlers hawking their wares in a lively chorus. Among them was a clever girl selling firewood, calling herself “the little girl who sells firewood,” which stirred the sympathy of passersby and kept her stock flying off the shelves. In the blink of an eye, all her dry wood was snatched up.

On both sides of the street stood rows of buildings, with shops in the front and living quarters in the back: pharmacies, gold and silver shops, taverns, and silk stores. The shops bustled with people, and the streets seethed with crowds—a scene of bustling prosperity.

Shopping seemed to be women’s innate delight, and the women of the Han Dynasty were no different. Once in the marketplace, Cai Yan shed her usual composure, eyes alight with excitement as she gazed eagerly at the stalls.

They slipped into a jewelry shop. The shop boy, seeing Luan Yi’s refined bearing and Cai Yan’s exceptional beauty, beamed as he welcomed them. “Miss, what might you need? Our gold and silver jewelry is the best in Luoyang, and our jade hairpins are of the finest quality. Look—crystal clear, exquisitely carved!”

With that, he took several trays from the counter, each sparkling with a dazzling array of finely crafted ornaments.

“How much for this?” Cai Yan picked up a jade bangle and inquired about the price.

“That’s thirty strings of coins!”

“Thirty?” Cai Yan’s face clouded as she shook her head. “Then never mind.”

“Oh…” The shop boy understood at once: this young lady, though elegantly dressed, must be short of funds. In the capital, there were many such families—genteel in appearance but lacking in means.

Luan Yi, too, understood the situation. Despite Cai Yong’s status as the Grand Academician, his stipend was little more than a thousand bushels—a monthly salary of eighty hu of grain and four thousand coins. The bangle, priced at thirty strings, equaled thirty thousand coins—about eight months of Cai Yong’s salary. And Cai Yong, known for his integrity, spent what little he earned on books rather than savings, leaving nothing for Cai Yan to spend on such expensive trinkets.

The shop boy’s smile faded, and he pushed the trays back under the counter. He then fetched a few new trays from a cabinet behind him, setting them on the counter. “Miss, here are some more affordable items—perhaps you’ll find something you like?”

People have their pride, and scholars all the more so—talented ladies most of all. Hearing the words “cheap goods,” Cai Yan felt as if pricked by thorns. Her face showed anger, but her tone remained courteous. “Then there’s no need.” With that, she turned to leave.

Luan Yi stopped her, beaming at the shop boy. “I’ll take all the jewelry from the earlier trays.”

“These ones?” The boy pointed to the cheap trinkets on the counter.

“Not those.” Luan Yi signaled that he wanted the ones he’d placed under the counter.

“These? But they’re very expensive!”

“What? You think I can’t afford them?” Luan Yi sneered, waving his hand. At once, Luan Fu stepped forward, and, as if performing a trick, pulled a moneybag from his robe and threw it onto the counter with a heavy thud, nearly denting the wood.

“This bag of gold should suffice for all the jewelry I want, no?”

Startled by the commotion, the shopkeeper came running. He opened the bag to find it brimming with gleaming gold—seven full cakes of it. A fawning smile broke over his face as he bowed repeatedly to Luan Yi and Cai Yan. “Honored guests, please, have a seat—take the place of honor!” He kicked the shop boy, barking, “What are you waiting for? Go brew some tea—make it the finest!”

Luan Yi ignored him. “No tea for me. Just wrap up my purchases and have them delivered to Master Cai Yong’s residence.” He was about to leave but, struck by a mischievous impulse, said coolly, “Bring me paper and brush.”

“What?” The shopkeeper, unsure whether he’d heard correctly or what this gentleman wanted with a writing set, asked again.

“My young master says: bring paper and brush,” Luan Fu repeated.

“Oh, of course!” The shopkeeper, eager to please, hurried behind the counter and brought out a fine piece of silk, spreading it out respectfully, then handed Luan Yi a brush heavy with ink.

After a moment’s thought, Luan Yi wrote: “Tea—serve tea, the finest tea; Seat—please be seated, take the seat of honor.” And for a horizontal inscription: “Guests Divided into Three Classes.”

The shop assistants, seeing the couplet, immediately realized this elegantly dressed youth was mocking their establishment. Anger flashed across their faces, and one rolled up his sleeves, about to protest, “Hey, you—” But Luan Yi paid him no mind, continuing to write. Looking down, the assistant saw him signing his name: “Luan Ziqi of Yingchuan.”

“Luan Ziqi of Yingchuan?” The shopkeeper and the boy cried out in astonishment, their anger vanishing in an instant, replaced with sycophantic smiles. “Sir Genius, what an honor to receive you—I beg your pardon for my earlier rudeness, please forgive us!”

Luan Yi ignored them, tossing the brush at the assistant’s face and striding out the door.

From the moment he bought the jewelry, wrote the mocking couplet, to the time he walked out, everything happened in the blink of an eye. Cai Yan was left utterly stunned, barely having time to react before Luan Yi had already drawn her back onto the bustling street.

“You really bought those expensive things just like that?” Cai Yan asked in disbelief.

“What else?” Luan Yi’s lips curled. “Money may not be a good thing, but you certainly can’t do without it!”

“You’re full of such twisted logic!” Cai Yan burst out laughing. Still… spending money like this was deeply satisfying. And that couplet—“Tea—serve tea, the finest tea; Seat—please be seated, take the seat of honor”—was even more so. “How amusing!”

Luan Yi had thought that, with a wealthy young master by her side and their relationship now clear, Cai Yan would indulge herself and buy what she fancied. Yet reality proved otherwise.

Cai Yan remained as she always was—more often looking than buying, always insisting on paying for her own purchases. This only made Luan Yi cherish her all the more.

Compared to the vast shopping malls of the future, the East Market of today was humble indeed, but the two of them strolled and laughed together for more than an hour before, tired and thirsty, they decided to find a place to rest and have some tea and snacks.

Conveniently, there was a teahouse nearby. From the outside, it was well-appointed and clean, so they went in.

Upon entering, Luan Yi noticed that none of the attendants came forward to greet them. Looking around, he saw that the boys, towels slung over their shoulders, were all staring, utterly absorbed, at a single person.

That person sat in a corner of the hall, her back graceful, long black hair cascading like a waterfall over her pink dress.

“It’s her?” Luan Yi’s heart skipped a beat, and he instinctively wanted to leave. But then he thought, I’ve done nothing shameful—why should I feel like fleeing?

Cai Yan seemed to sense his unease and asked, “Ziqi, what’s wrong?”

Luan Yi forced a smile. “Nothing.” With that, he sat with Cai Yan at the table furthest from the woman in pink, turning his back to her to avoid being recognized.

He called for the attendant and ordered tea and snacks. Parched, Luan Yi gulped down a bowl in one go, only to scald himself, grimacing and coughing, which set Cai Yan laughing. “Oh, Ziqi, slow down! You call yourself a genius and yet you can’t even drink tea without burning yourself—still a child, I see!” She laughed as she pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the tea from his face.

Luan Yi laughed it off. “I was just thirsty!” He snatched the handkerchief from her. “Better let me do it myself.”

Only then did Cai Yan realize her gesture of wiping his face had been too intimate. Embarrassed, her cheeks flushed.

“Sister…” Luan Yi gazed at her, saying, “You look beautiful when you’re shy.”

Cai Yan grew even more bashful, lightly spitting, “Rogue, drink your tea!”

The pair were bantering happily when a clear voice suddenly called out, making Luan Yi’s hair stand on end.

“Master Ziqi, what a coincidence—I didn’t expect to meet you here today,” the woman named Hongchang said.

Luan Yi turned, forcing a smile. “Indeed, what a coincidence to find you here as well.”

Women’s intuition is sharp, especially in matters of the heart. The moment she saw the woman in pink, Cai Yan’s eyes grew wary, though her manners remained as elegant as ever. “And who might you be, miss?”

Before Luan Yi could reply, the woman in pink interjected, asking in return, “You must be Lady Zhaoji—my name is Ren Hongchang. I have long admired your reputation. Did Master Ziqi not tell you what happened last night at Plum Blossom Garden?”

“What happened?”

Luan Yi, seeing Cai Yan’s expression darken, panicked. Woman, do you have to be so vague? “What happened last night”—what does that mean? Was it a matter of the bedchamber, or something else? “Sister, let me explain, it’s not what you think, it went like this—”

“Enough. I’m not feeling well. Excuse me.” Cai Yan, furious, swept out of the teahouse with her maid in tow.

“Wait! Sister, don’t go, let me explain!” Luan Yi glared at Ren Hongchang, but when he met her alluring eyes, he couldn’t stay angry. He hurried after Cai Yan, only to have Ren Hongchang block his way, her eyes filled with pitiful longing. “So, the reason you wouldn’t stay and drink with me last night was because of her?”