Just then, an eunuch attendant from the Ceremonial Office came looking for Deng Ying, “Superintendent, the Old Ancestor is setting up the tea ceremony.”
Deng Ying turned his head, “Tell the Old Ancestor I’m coming.”
The attendant said: “Superintendent, please hurry. Today’s tea ceremony with the Old Ancestor shouldn’t be served cold.”
“I understand.”
Yang Lun looked down at Deng Ying, “Can’t you shed this skin and leave the palace? I can find you work to do.”
Deng Ying smiled, “Work as a servant in your household?”
Yang Lun cursed, “What nonsense are you talking?”
“So you admit it’s nonsense.”
Yang Lun was struck speechless and became meek. He glanced at the attendant still standing behind Deng Ying and said softly, “Why is he watching you?”
Deng Ying replied calmly, “To prevent me from returning to the Eastern Factory midway instead of going to the tea ceremony.”
Yang Lun said: “In your current situation, how can I help you?”
Deng Ying shook his head, “You don’t understand palace matters – you can’t help me. But I’m not in as difficult a position as when I first entered the palace. The Eastern Factory is my support now. Thank you for bearing the heavy pressure alone back then and recommending me to His Majesty.”
Yang Lun grimaced, “Why speak of such things? Since you feel I can’t help, hurry to your tea ceremony. I need to go to the Grand Secretariat chamber anyway.”
After speaking, he walked a few steps forward, then turned back to Deng Ying: “Deng Fuling, I don’t care what Teacher thinks – you are my lifelong classmate and dear friend. There’s nothing wrong with you not being an official. This officialdom disgusts me too, Yang Lun, but I don’t want to lose to you.”
Deng Ying smiled and nodded, responding with a “Yes.”
The two parted ways beneath the Bell and Drum Gate, as frost-like apricot branches extended over the deep red palace walls.
The “Fisherman” chapter of Zhuangzi records: “Confucius wandered in the forest of black curtains, resting and sitting upon the apricot altar. His disciples read books while Confucius played strings and drums.”
Seeing early apricot blossoms in spring sunshine, and sharing drinks with friends when flowers are in full bloom – this was the finest season for fellowship.
Walking under the apricot shadows, Yang Lun recalled the times when Zhang Zhanchun was still alive. He and Deng Ying would go to Zhang Zhanchun’s home for meals. Deng Ying would roll up his pants to catch fish in the spring river – the flowing water would make the fish jump, splashing him all over. Even in his youth, he was calm and patient, precise with his hands. Even in catching fish, he was more successful than Yang Lun, who often caught nothing while Deng Ying always managed to catch one or two. The caught fish would be handed to Zhang’s maids to make into soup, and the three would sit by the river drinking soup and discussing the Way. In those spring days full of clamor, both were promising young men with bright futures ahead.
Now the apricot shadows lay on the ground, and stepping on them stained one with gloom.
Yang Lun never imagined that after parting with Deng Ying under the Bell and Drum Tower, they would meet rarely again, and their next chance for a heartfelt talk would not come until the cold autumn of the fourteenth year of Zhenning.
Meanwhile, apricot branches were being arranged in vases as the tea ceremony was being prepared.
The Ceremonial Office’s tea ceremony was somewhat similar to the Grand Secretariat’s meetings. Eunuch officials from the twenty-four bureaus, such as those from the General Services Bureau and the Fuel Conservation Bureau who rarely saw He Yixian, took this opportunity to offer pastries and meat dishes to him.
But today, since the regular court session had ended late and He Yixian was still attending to the Emperor’s return to the Hall of Mental Cultivation, Chen Hua first put the offered venison on the fire to roast. The charcoal smoke made the meat emit white vapor, and when spices scattered where the fat was sizzling, the aroma immediately spread. Jiang Shangyi, helping Song Yunqing set the table, saw Chen Hua slicing meat and said: “Jian’er won’t eat this, don’t bother.”
Chen Hua looked toward Song Yunqing, “What’s wrong?”
Song Yunqing bent to put down the chopsticks and said: “Naturally there are better things to be bestowed.”
Just then, He Yixian entered with several secretarial eunuchs from the Ceremonial Office. He Yixian took a breath of the room’s air and said: “When it comes to food, one must look to you.”
Chen Hua stepped forward to help him, “Oh my, the Assistant Director was just saying this servant’s efforts were wasted, saying you had better things to bestow.”
He Yixian sat down in the main seat, and the eunuchs below were about to rise and bow, but He Yixian waved his hand and said: “You’ve got the rules wrong.”
“Isn’t paying respects to you the highest rule?”
He Yixian smiled, “Wait a while longer.”
Just as he finished speaking, an attendant came in to report: “Old Ancestor, Superintendent Deng has arrived.”
He Yixian said: “Raise the curtain, invite him in.”
The sound of chains scraping entered the inner chamber, and everyone raised their heads. Deng Ying entered beneath the curtain with a lowered head, fallen apricot blossoms still on his shoulders.
“You’ve come.”
Deng Ying bowed, “Old Ancestor.”
“Sit.”
Deng Ying sat at the lowest seat, and He Yixian spoke again: “Sitting there, how can they pay their respects?”
Deng Ying raised his head, “I won’t accept their respect.”
He Yixian laughed, “That’s for them to decide.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Zhao, the official from the General Services Bureau, said, “Let us pay respects to the Superintendent.”
A roomful of people knelt on the ground, only Chen Hua remained standing, slow to react. When he finally realized, he hurriedly prostrated himself as well.
Deng Ying looked at the kneeling eunuchs and lowered his shackled hands beneath the table, not looking at He Yixian. “What did the Old Ancestor want to tell me?”
He Yixian said: “So you look down on all these people, Superintendent Deng?”
After speaking, he raised his voice: “Your respects aren’t sincere enough. Straighten up and kowtow three more times.”
No one dared disobey, and the sound of foreheads touching the ground rose and fell.
Deng Ying quietly clenched his hands.
“Old Ancestor…”
“Too light! Kowtow again, until Superintendent Deng considers you worthy!”
He Yixian interrupted Deng Ying and took a sip of tea.