The library was quieter than even the typical library, but such was expected on the day of the Mid-Autumn Festival. It was one of the rare few days imperial civil servants—scholars and physicians alike—could take a day off.
Therefore, left in the middle of that library, within the late hours of the morning, sat two lone people, caught together in the midst of their own shared world.
Tao Hua was hunched, repeatedly reading a few stanzas of a poem, smiling. It wasn't overly excited, nor was it a feeble smile. This smile was peaceful, as if fully immersed in the element of his one true hobby.
While he wrote down most of his thoughts, Shan Si attentively watched him. He wasn't huddled like his counterpart, but instead he was freely situated. His arm spread across the back of Tao Hua's chair and his head tilted inward, toward the other and yearning to keep close.
Every so often, he'd point out a discrepancy; anything Tao Hua might have missed to assure he had everything needed. Other than that, he hadn't bothered Tao Hua in the slightest and let him do his work.
The poem in question was one Shan Si had memeorised word for word, from the many sung by Zhuan. To him, this was the most important, and the poem sang to him often.
Leaning back against Shan Si's arm, enough for it to fold over Tao Hua's shoulders, Tao Hua glanced down at the paper in his hands. "I think I have some of it figured out."
"Recite it," Shan Si replied, his eyes half-lidded, yet focused on Tao Hua. "After, I'd like to see what you got from it."
Tao Hua nodded, a light shade brushing his cheeks. Though he was more adept at stories, he found that poetry was nothing more than a miniature tale packed into a few stanzas, each word holding meaning and more restrained.
The title of the poem, sung by Zhuan in the era of Xingcai was: "Drown the Gold in Peony."
It first struck Tao Hua as peculiar, but the further he read into the more he understood the title.
Thus, he slowly recited each line carefully in that silent space, his voice no louder than a lullaby.
"A caged tiger, coloured in peony
Hidden behind the mask of a lion
Ritualistic Nuo, dance in fealty
A masked tiger, under the autumn stars
Tempted by the Spring of the Peach Blossom
Crippled by the ravaging hands of Mars
Disloyal tiger; gripped sword; braided hair
Free the jade fox; Father's weep in copper
She tramples the flowers in their despair
Roaming tiger, bestowed the golden fin
Crack the mask, enter the clay-potted insect
She whispers: 'Begin, misery of crows' sins.'"
As soon as Tao Hua finished, he placed the paper down and reached for his notes. His voice shook a bit, stuttering a few lines, but there was also a determination hidden within it.
That determination was within the desire to prove himself as capable, and that smile still ever-prominent.
Meanwhile, Shan Si was the opposite. For once, it was his eyes that shook, watching Tao Hua recite the words he'd heard many times before. He wasn't sure what it was that he was feeling, but it was enough for him to tightly grip Tao Hua's shoulder throughout the poem.
It was as if he'd just watched Zhuan recite it, though not as eagerly; it was still a sense of déjà vu. Now, he wasn't confusing Tao Hua for Zhuan—Tao Hua was his own person. Shan Si was feeling something similar to loss and fear, as if he let go, this precious flower would wilt away at a moment's notice.
Exactly like his mother and Zhuan, the two stabilising pinnacles of his youth.
What a weird sensation.
He turned his head away, pressing his hand to his forehead, eyes narrowed against the wooden surface of the table. Tao Hua glanced at him, overcome with a fair bit of concern.
"Did…I do it wrong?" he asked, his smile now falling. Tao Hua assumed with the shoulder, Shan Si was just reminiscing.
Closing his eyes, Shan Si shook his head.
"No. You did it perfectly. I think…I'm just finally starting to understand Weng Jing a bit here," he breathlessly laughed, cringing at the mere idea of complimenting that Daoist freak. From the exhaustion on his face, it was clear why Shan Si barely ever brought these poems up, only speaking about them in passing. "You looked exactly like her. Without the singing, of course."
Tao Hua paused, then he turned back to the paper. He wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing and felt a bit of discomfort. So, he just focused on the task instead for both people's sake.
"It's rich with symbolism, but it feels less like a story and more like history," Tao Hua said. "It's very beautiful but feels incomplete."
"Isn't it? Certainly, it's not done." Shan Si agreed, looking at Tao Hua, hand over his mouth. Slowly, his composure returned, watching Tao Hua agree with a nod of his head. "What makes you think it's not a story? I'd love to hear your thoughts, Tao Hua."
Heart pounding, Tao Hua immediately obliged. "Wan Mie mentioned Zhuan betrayed Shandi, so the stanza about disloyalty feels a bit too similar to just be a coincidence. Then…"
Tao Hua stopped momentarily, deciding whether to mention it. However, Shan Si trusted him, so he needed to do the same.
"When I factor in Fang Jian's history with her, and considering beauty is often compared to jade, then it starts to make sense," Tao Hua said. Peerless and jade beauty were two phrases he'd heard time and time again back in Siyue Town, typically paired with good-for-nothing or invalid.
Funny how his awful past started to become rather useful.
So, he continued, "While I feel the fox represents the jade's circumstance. I've read a folktale on it before…the nine-tailed fox. They're creatures who tempt men—wouldn't that represent the brothel, like you mentioned before? That's where she saved Fang Jian and Wu Mi after being sold off for money; 'father's weep in copper.' She ruined their income and trampled the innocence daughters gave fathers."
"You're so smart," Shan Si smiled, brushing along Tao Hua's cheek with the hand still propped over his shoulder. "I also believe it's a testament to her life. But I could only ever understand that single stanza as a kid. This is the first I've decided to analyze it since."
"So she's the tiger? But why would a woman compare herself to a tiger?" Tao Hua glanced over at Shan Si.
During their training, Shan Si often had him study, and when the tiger was mentioned, it was often related to yang. Yang was masculine, while feminine energy was often referred to as yin. There had to be more to it.
"Do you think it's a statement?"
"Zhuan was capable of besting any man with intelligence incomparable; it's certainly a statement," Shan Si replied. "Don't forget, Father couldn't ever find a cultivator strong enough to end her."
Tao Hua's brows furrowed. Back to the sheet of notes, he skimmed before reaching for the paper with the poem, written by Shan Si. "You don't have any clue what the other stanzas mean?"
"Honest—not a test. I sincerely don't." Shan Si shook his head. "Perhaps it's in relation to Shendi, but do you really think Father allowed me that much? War, don't forget. All I know of Shendi is their ruthless ways. Without you, I wouldn't of known about her betrayal."
He let out a playful groan. "This is why I need my Little Flower to do the work."
Hesitating a bit, Tao Hua considered mentioning Wan Mie as a source, but held it back. Given Shan Si's disinterest in speaking of such pasts, it was obvious he rarely brought it up with the others.
Maybe he was being selfish, but he wanted to keep this between the two than tarnish it with potential toxins.
He couldn't help but enjoy the feeling of being wanted or needed.
"Can I keep this?" Tao Hua asked, motioning toward the poem. "To look at later?"
Coyly, Shan Si tilted his head, his lips curling into a smirk. "My hard work, all for free? Tsk, It'll cost you, My Dear Flower."
Whipping his head, Tao Hua gawked at him helplessly. All of his costs typically relied on Shan Si, so he hadn't a single copper to his name! But the more he stared at the growing smirk and knowing stare, the more he realised.
A ploy.
Lips pressed together into a straight line, Tao Hua's eyes pleaded with Shan Si, but the pale gaze just wouldn't relent. Thus, Tao Hua slowly lowered the paper. With a shaking hand, he pushed himself up by just a margin, enough to twist his body toward Shan Si.
All of these awkward and jerky movements were simply observed by Shan Si, sat in place, waiting for his payment.
Then, knee crooked between Shan Si's legs, Tao Hua placed his hands on the other's shoulders weakly, his body leaning in and brushing a kiss on his lips. It was possibly the lightest and most innocent kiss possible.
Why not take advantage of it?
Shan Si grabbed the back of his head, and swiftly, he deepend it before breaking them apart, lest anyone see. This left Tao Hua dizzy, captivated in fervent as an arm wrapped around his waist.
Pushing the chair back and rising to his feet, Shan Si grabbed the poem on the table and passed it to Tao Hua, who just hazily glanced at it. "Transaction complete. Let's go grab the books you wanted before we begin your itinerary. The city awaits your admiration, Little Flower."
Everything slowly came back into focus as Shan Si removed himself from Tao Hua, packing up the books to bring back to the shelves.
There was no point in trying to find those "books" anymore. What kind of person would Shan Si think of him? So, folding up the paper and stuffing it into his sleeve, Tao Hua just rushed after him, appealing his choices in begging whispers.
Chapter end.