Chapter Thirty-Nine: Floating Cups on the Meandering Stream

At the third bend, at the height of the spring banquets, the winding wine-cup game was the best-known pastime of the Double Third Festival and a popular folk revel. Cups were set afloat upstream; when one drifted downstream and came to rest before a person, that person lifted the cup and drank, in order to cast off ill fortune.

The most famous such banquet was the Orchid Pavilion Gathering held by Wang Xizhi of the Eastern Jin, also on the third day of the third month. There, Wang Xizhi, then the administrator of Kuaiji, gathered with relatives and friends, among them Xie An and Sun Chuo, together with forty-two high officials of the realm, to drink and compose poetry in this floating-cup game. In the heat of that splendid hour, Wang Xizhi even penned the finest running-script calligraphy under heaven: the Preface to the Orchid Pavilion Poems.

The game soon to begin was one of the climactic moments of the Qujiang feast. The prize, naturally, was the right to choose first from the more than twenty beauties who followed. The one who won the game would have the privilege of selecting the loveliest companion and enjoying the pleasures of Qujiang first. In short, more than twenty charming women were already singing and dancing, displaying their allure, waiting only for a capable suitor to make his approach. As for whether anyone would truly win their favor in the end, that would depend on each man's final art and skill.

More than twenty blossoms, each with her own excellence, yet among the flowers there could be only one queen.

Pei Min’s gaze fell on Jiao Chen. He had no intention, at present, of giving himself away; after all, this was his first time too, and he valued it rather highly. He could not lightly surrender it to those older, more experienced elder sisters. Compared with drifting about the lake with others, the hardest prize to claim, Jiao Chen, was in fact the best choice.

Just then the singing and dancing ceased, and a madam with traces of former charm hurried forward, clapping her hands with enthusiasm. “Gentlemen, the stars of literature descended to earth, please take your seats by the river at your leisure...”

No sooner had she spoken than the surrounding examinees rushed forward to seize the best spots.

Pei Min looked on in some bewilderment and strolled unhurriedly toward the water.

“Brother Pei, here, Brother Pei!” Xue Yong sat at a bend in the stream, waving eagerly.

Smiling, Pei Min went over and sat beside him, reaching out to touch the stream. The spring water was cool to the bone, wonderfully refreshing.

Xue Yong gestured and said, “Look, the wine comes from upstream. We’re at the third bend. At the first bend the wooden tray still has the strongest momentum, so it is unlikely to stop there. By the second bend some force remains, and our third bend is just right. The cup is bound to stop before us.”

Pei Min knew the rough outline of the game, but not the details, and asked, “Why is that? Is there some rule behind it?”

Xue Yong glanced at him in surprise and sighed. “Brother Pei, you are far too straightforward. Surely you didn’t prepare in advance? The first person to drink must compose the topic. Do you think anyone can truly produce verse on the spot? Whoever claims the first cup gains the advantage and a far better chance of taking first place.”

Only then did Pei Min understand, and he smiled faintly.

Seeing that the cup from upstream would still take some time to arrive, Xue Yong asked, “Has Brother Pei given up already, or are you certain of victory?”

“I should think the latter,” Pei Min replied with a serious nod.

Xue Yong looked a little deflated. “Brother Pei is skilled in poetry?”

Pei Min shook his head. “What I excel at most is swordsmanship. Verse is not my strong suit.” He paused. “But no one can beat me anyway...”

Xue Yong stared at him, stunned for a long while, and had nothing to say. He chose to ignore him.

The nearby scholars, hearing Pei Min’s arrogance, were secretly displeased and resolved to compete for supremacy.

Especially Pei Yu.

The first cup of wine drifted slowly downstream. As the tray turned, it passed one bend without stopping, then the second as well. Xue Yong cried out in excitement for it to stop, but the tray continued leisurely past the third bend and finally came to rest near the fourth.

The seat opposite the resting cup happened to be Pei Yu.

Pei Yu had entered the examinations with third-tier honors among the successful candidates, far below Pei Min’s championship rank, but he was still among the degree holders and would remain eligible for office after passing the Ministry of Personnel’s reexamination. Looking at him, Pei Min suddenly felt that this fellow was like a piece of stubborn taffy, silent yet always appearing around him, giving him the sensation of being entangled. He thought darkly, “I need to find a chance to put him down...”

While Pei Min was brooding privately, Pei Yu had already taken the cup in hand. That clash with Pei Min had cost him dearly and made him a laughingstock of the clan. His former pride had become humiliation; everything he once possessed had been stripped away. Thinking of Pei Min’s words, forever standing over his head like a nightmare, he had found sleep impossible by night and by day. After long and bitter reflection, he buried his resentment and hatred deep in his heart and swore that he would repay a hundredfold the disgrace he had suffered, and make Pei Min pay for all he had done. If Pei Min sat for the county examination, then so would he. If Pei Min took the provincial examination, then he would sit it as well. He refused to believe he truly was inferior to Pei Min. Yet the results drove him nearly mad with jealousy and hatred, as though confirming Pei Min’s words: again and again, that name stood above him, impossible to shake off.

Pei Yu had never imagined that fortune would favor him this time. He knew all too well how famed Jiao Chen’s beauty was in the capital, so much so that even the emperor in the palace had heard her name and had considered sending for her to enter the inner court and celebrate the Empress Dowager’s birthday. He also knew that everyone in the capital with designs upon her was waiting to see which young hero would seize the crown...

A talented man paired with a beauty—if he could win first place, then with Jiao Chen’s renown, his own name, Pei Yu’s, would be remembered by the world. Like Lu Zangyong taking the shortcut to Mount Zhongnan, he would rise straight into the clouds...

The more he thought, the more exalted he felt. He raised his cup and drank it dry, then said, “Today is the Double Third Festival, as everyone knows. But I wonder whether everyone also knows that this festival is likewise called the Girls’ Festival... The Book of Songs says: ‘By the Qin and Wei rivers, the waters are surging; the young men and maidens are holding fragrant herbs.’ The topic I set is springtime longing...” As soon as he finished, the crowd fell silent in astonishment.

Xue Yong was dumbfounded and muttered bitterly, “That Pei Yu is truly devious.”

Pei Min smiled and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Xue Yong said indignantly, “That topic is far too tricky. It has the season in it, and it has to bring out the meaning of longing as well. How could anyone possibly think of something in such a short time?”

Pei Min rested his chin on one hand. “So Pei Yu set this topic in order to win?”

“Most likely. He must have prepared long ago. With such a difficult topic, he can sweep away many opponents. Let’s see how his poem turns out; perhaps he’ll be the one who wins in the end.” He watched Pei Yu with tense attention.

Pei Yu put on a show of pacing back and forth, then recited in a low voice a seven-character love poem colored by the spring season.

To be fair, the lines were neat and proper, the diction rather graceful. Though lacking true atmosphere, it was still a good poem.

Xue Yong stared blankly. “It’s over. We’re done for.”

Pei Min only smiled and said nothing.

The second cup of wine floated to an elderly examinee of about forty. He did not hesitate, took the cup, drained it in one go, then punished himself with three more cups and withdrew from the contest of his own accord.

The third cup stopped before the top scorer Feng Zhi. Feng Zhi composed a five-character quatrain; the language was lovely and the mood not without charm, but the verses felt somewhat forced together and lacked polish, falling a little short of Pei Yu’s effort.

Pei Yu’s topic was both sharp and cunning, and for a time everyone was beaten back. After thirteen rounds, only four people had produced poems; the rest were eliminated outright. As for the so-called favorable spot Xue Yong had mentioned, no cup had yet come to rest there.

Watching Pei Yu, who had been like an unsettled ghost and now gradually let a victorious smile show, Pei Min, somewhat displeased, changed seats.

The cup stopped, right where Pei Min now sat...