Song of the Spring Moon Waning (2 page)

Dressed and at least a little more fed, Wen Yu tied his hair up into a sloppy topknot and sat at his desk to begin paging through his notes. It would be classics and mathematics this morning; he'd take a little time off to see to his mysterious note when he was done, and then it would be time for calligraphy practice. He felt his brush strokes were still too plain and bold, fine for taking notes but not nearly good enough for the upcoming examination. Just thinking the word 'examination' sent his pulse racing, and he pushed away all thought of how little time he had left. Wen Yu turned his full attention to his notes.

A breeze blew through the open window, rustling the papers on his desk. He noticed the air was not as cold as it had been; spring was definitely coming.

The sun was high in the sky when he set aside his papers. The practice essays he'd written that morning sat to one side of his desk as their ink dried, while his older notes were stacked on the other end. Wen Yu stood and stretched, trying to work out the kinks in his neck. By the time he passed the examination, his back was going to be twisted up like an old man's from the years of bending over a study desk, but such was the life of a student. Not that he was particularly young, though still considered old enough that he should have a wife and children by now. Maybe if he passed the examination he'd ask Shi Fei to marry him—if she wanted, of course.

He walked to the sleeping mat and reached for the note, tucking it into his tunic, pulling on a lightweight jacket, open down the front with wide, flowing sleeves. Donning his boots, he headed for the door. His was one of numerous tiny apartments rented out to students who flooded into the Imperial City every three years to study for the examination. The building where Wen Yu rented his apartment was an old, crumbling thing, and he suspected it was on the verge of falling down. Wen Yu's room was at the top of the building, which fortunately meant he had a window; unfortunately, it also meant his ceiling was more likely to leak.

The street his building stood on was quiet, but the wide, stone-paved main streets off of it teemed with people. Wen Yu darted around carts pulled by oxen and people bent double under loads of the wares they hoped to sell. There were street vendors and shops selling all manner of food, each with a cloth banner hanging down from the eaves of the roof, announcing what it was they sold. Wen Yu found his mouth watering at the idea of beef over rice. He couldn't afford beef right now, so he settled on noodles instead. Anyway, Zhi Ping who owned the noodle shop was a horrible gossip. If anyone would know which of the students had written his note, it would be Old Man Ping.

Wen Yu ducked into the noodle shop, nodding to the several haggard-looking students who were already there before heading for where Zhi Ping stood behind a low wooden counter next to the vats of broth.

"Fried noodles today, I think," Wen Yu told him, and Zhi Ping nodded.

"In broth?"

"Yes, please." Wen Yu dug out some of his precious coin and slid it over the counter. "And I have a question for you."

Zhi Ping raised one eyebrow, ladling broth into a bowl. "Oh?"

"Do you know who Liu Yi is?" Wen Yu took out the note and unfolded it for Zhi Ping to see. "He seems to have sent me a note last night which I do not understand the meaning of."

Zhi Ping stroked his beard thoughtfully. He set the bowl of noodles and broth in front of Wen Yu. "Not one of the students who live around here, I think, but I can ask my sister; she is friends with the wife of a paper merchant who sells to most of the students who come for the examination, not to mention a fair number of the Imperial bureaucrats." Zhi Ping touched the edge of the note with the tip of one wizened finger. "He does nice brushwork, though. A scholar for sure."

"Yes. Yes, he does." Wen Yu reached for his chopsticks, feeling a pang of guilt that he wasn't back in his room studying calligraphy right then.
After I eat
, he promised himself, and turned his attention to his noodles.

*~*~*

"I don't have anything to tell you," Zhi Ping said a few days later as Wen Yu huddled over a bowl of noodles. "My sister said she asked her friend who asked her husband, but neither of them know of a student by that name, or a scholar, for that matter."

Zhi Ping wiped his hands off on a rag.

"Fine as ever, thank you for asking." Wen Yu smiled and slid money across the counter.

A group of students came in, laughing. They ordered as a group and sat together at one of the tables. Wen Yu looked away, feeling a slight pang of loneliness. He missed his sisters, missed Hao Wu and Shi Fei. He hadn't made any friends since being here, too focused on studying and the upcoming examination. There were also other reasons to keep the people here at bay, not the least of which his father's secret and the need to preserve it.

His father had given Wen Yu a lecture when he left for the capital, as his father always did when Wen Yu traveled somewhere alone. He was not to become close with anyone, his father had said. Wen Yu would be disqualified from the examination immediately, his name and scores struck from the records of all his previous examinations, and his family dishonored. The shame had been evident in his father's voice as he'd spoken of the secret; just remembering it made guilt and loathing lodge like a heavy, cold stone in Wen Yu's stomach. He looked down at his noodles, suddenly no longer hungry.

Being here made for a lonely existence; he missed the people back home.

Shi Fei would probably scold him for missing an opportunity to make possibly valuable political alliances. Hao Wu would just laugh, throw an arm around Wen Yu's shoulders, and suggest they take a bottle of plum wine down by the pond and relax.

From behind him at the table of students, someone laughed loudly in a way that made Wen Yu's chest ache and heart clench. Wen Yu pushed his empty bowl over to Zhi Ping and stood, heading for the doorway.

That night, he was awakened from where he'd been dozing, bent over his writing desk, by a scraping noise coming from just outside his door. Wen Yu jerked upright, blinking back sleep, his ears straining for any sound. The sun was beginning to creep above the horizon, bathing the room in pale light. The noise came again, a low scrape, and then a piece of paper was pushed under the door.

Wen Yu stood quickly, straightening his tunic and stumbled towards the door, wrenching it open. A young man in expensive-looking clothes looked up, startled, and Wen Yu gripped him by the collar of his long tunic and hauled him through the door.

"All right, then, why are you skulking about, putting notes under my door?" Wen Yu tried to sound stern and not like he'd been drooling all over his notes a moment ago.

"Apologies, honorable student. I was sent to give you this note, since there had been no reply to the last one." The young man looked down meaningfully at the note on the floor.

"You were sent by Liu Yi?" Wen Yu let go of the young man and rubbed one hand across his eyes. "Wait here for a moment."

He went back to his desk, grabbing a brush and an ink stone, and reached for the first note, turning it over and scrawling across the back.

Many apologies, but I do not know of the thrush that you speak of. Once more, I must beg a thousand apologies for causing you any inconvenience.

He signed it and handed it over to the young man, who bowed and turned to go.

"Tell Liu Yi I hope he finds whoever has made off with his songbird," he called after the young man.

The sun was high enough now that Wen Yu thought he should probably eat some rice and start on the day's studies. As he went to heat the water for tea, he hoped this would be the last of the business regarding birds.

Many hours later, when the sun was going down, Wen Yu was startled out of his studies by a rapping on the door. He stood, wondering who it could be, and moved across the room to open it. The young man from that morning stood on the other side. Without speaking, he held out yet another note to Wen Yu, who took it and opened it.

Are you certain, honorable student, that you do not have my song thrush and have not simply misplaced it? I am quite sure that the address to which I have been directing these letters is correct. Are you claiming that you are not the honorable student, Wang Boa?

Wen Yu reached for a brush and turned over the note.

I am quite sure I do not have your thrush,
he wrote.
Nor I am the student Wang Boa. I am honorable student Wen Yu. I have not lived in this apartment long, though, so it is possible the Wang Boa of which you speak lived here before me. I send my deepest sympathies for the loss of your bird.

He handed the note back to the young man, who bowed and left again. Wen Yu massaged the back of his neck and went to find something to eat.

The incident with the tortoise happened two days later.

He was making his way back from the paper shop, a slim bundle of new sheets in his arms. Wen Yu was in such a hurry to get back to his rooms and make up for the lost time in his studies that he almost walked right by it. Catching sight of something amiss in the space between a low building of student apartments and a dumpling shop, he doubled back. The tortoise stood on the packed-down earth of the alley next to a small puddle of brackish water. It was not a large tortoise, actually on the smallish side, and it was a dull green, its head cocked and alert as it scanned the area.

"What are you doing here?" Wen Yu wondered aloud, stopping in front of the small space and crouching down. "You should be by the river, not here on this busy street."

"I am waiting for you," the tortoise said. "You are honorable student Wen Yu, are you not?"

Wen Yu stared down at the tortoise, his mouth open for a long few moments as his brain refused to work. Too many hours memorizing the words of Confucius, Wen Yu thought distantly, had turned his brain to mush.

"Are you quite all right, honorable student?" the tortoise asked. Its voice was deep and melodic, with a certain measured quality that reminded Wen Yu of the eldest of his tutors.

Wen Yu began to shake all over. "No, I don't think I am."

"I would suggest you go back to your room and drink some medicinal herbal tea," the tortoise told him. "You will need your strength. Have you ever heard of the Moon Poems, honorable student?"

Wen Yu's mind collected itself enough to realize the name was not familiar to him then it shut down again in protest. He shook his head.

The tortoise slowly moved its head from side to side, regarding Wen Yu. "You will, soon enough. You have been chosen to translate them, honorable student."

Coming from a person and not a tortoise, Wen Yu would have been elated. Literature was his specialty, after all. Since the news was in fact coming from a talking tortoise, he just stared at the creature, wondering when he was going to wake up and realize he'd rolled into the wall again.

"I must go now." The tortoise blinked at him. "You would do well to drink some medicinal tea, I think, Wen Yu."

With that, it turned and made its way back down the alley while Wen Yu watched, open-mouthed.

When he was young, he and Shi Fei had often played together near a small pond on Shi Fei's father's property. There had been turtles in the water, and they had often watched them swim and sun themselves on stones. None of them had ever spoken to him; they'd been normal turtles and had only done normal turtle things. Then again, Wen Yu had almost no experience with tortoises. He was fairly certain, though, that they didn't talk any more than turtles did. How would Shi Fei react to all this, talking tortoises and the like, Wen Yu had no idea. She'd probably say something practical and arrange for him to see the best doctor money could buy.

Still, perhaps it was because of the tortoise that Wen Yu dreamed of the pond that night.

The sky was blue above his head, clear and bright with only a few wisps of clouds. Far off, the row of trees rustled in the breeze. The branches of the willow by the pond gently swayed as the wind picked up, brushing along the surface of the water and causing it to ripple. A bird sang from the tree, its voice clear and sweet. Wen Yu found himself walking towards the pond. He wasn't dressed in his trousers and tunic any longer, but the long, flowing robes of a scholar bureaucrat. He ran his fingers over the fine silk, wondering if this was some sort of a sign. Perhaps his future was bright after all.

As he approached the pond, he caught sight of a tortoise sunning itself on a rock beside the water. Wen Yu's boots crunched on the stones surrounding the pond, and the tortoise turned towards him. With a start, Wen Yu realized it was the same tortoise as from early that day in the alley.

"Honorable student Wen Yu," the tortoise greeted him, its deep tone unmistakable. "Or should I say honorable scholar Wen Yu?" He sounded both pleased and slightly amused. "I hope you are feeling better, for it is almost time for you to do that which you were chosen for."

"He's coming." A sweet, high voice rang out, and Wen Yu looked up to see a dark form flutter from the branches of the willow. It was a thrush, and it landed on the gravel quite close the tortoise. "He'll be here soon, although he's taking his own sweet time about it." The thrush ruffled its feathers, cocked its head at Wen Yu, before turning to look at the tortoise. "So you found another one."

"He is a scholar." The tortoise blinked slowly. "He will be able to translate the Moon Poems."