West of the village those hills steepened rapidly and forest covered much of them. The journey remained long and ever more difficult to yonder frontier, to the realms of the Tibetans and Mongols and other barbarians, but already here civilization began thinning out and one treasured it as perhaps no one quite could in its heartland.
“Beautiful are the procession of seasons
Bequeathed us by the gods
And the procession of ways and rites
Bequeathed us by the ancestors—” but broke the old poem off and went back through the gate. Ordinarily he would have continued to his house and waited inside. To receive an Imperial envoy he placed himself and his sons, robed in their best, on the porch. Servants flanked me direct way to it across the outer court; elsewhere shrubs made a kind of maze conducting attention to a goldfish pond. Women, children, and menial workers were tucked away in other buildings of the compound.
Stamp, rattle, and clang announced the advent. An equerry did so more formally, dismounting and entering, to be met halfway by the subprefect’s chamberlain. They exchanged bows and necessary words. Thereafter the inspector appeared. The servants prostrated themselves, and Yen Ting-kuo gave him the reverence due from a nobleman of lesser rank.
Ts’ai Li responded courteously. He was not of the most impressive, being a short man and rather young for one of such stature, whereas the subprefect was tall and gray. Even die emblems the inspector had donned upon leaving his vehicle showed signs of hard travel. However, many generations of closeness to the throne lived on in his quiet self-assurance. It was to be seen that host and guest took a quick liking to each other.
Presently they could talk alone. Ts’ai Li had been conducted to his quarters, helped to a bath and a change of raiment. Meanwhile arrangements were made for his entourage, assistants and attendants quartered according to rank in the compound, soldiers among the villagers. Savory odors drifted about, a banquet in preparation, spices, herbs, roasting meats—fowl, suckling pig, puppy, turtle—and liquors gently warmed. Sometimes a twang of zither or chime of bell came audibly loud from the house where singers and dancing girls rehearsed.
The inspector had intimated that before thus meeting local officials he wished a confidential talk. It took place in a chamber almost bare except for two screens, fresh straw mats, arm rests, a low table whereon waited wine and rice cakes from the South. Still, the room was bright and airy, its proportions pleasant; the paintings, of bamboo and of a mountain scene, and the calligraphy on the screens were exquisite. Ts’ai Li expressed proper admiration, sufficient to show he appreciated, not enough to require they be given him.
“My lord’s slave returns humble thanks,” Yen Ting-kuo said. “I fear he will find us a somewhat poor and uncultivated lot in these remote parts.”
“Not at all,” replied Ts’ai Li. Long, polished fingernails gleamed as he brought cup to lips. “Indeed, here seems to be a haven of peace and order. Alas, even near the capital bandits and malcontents are rife, while elsewhere there is actual rebellion and doubtless the Hsiung-nu beyond the Wall look hungrily our way once more. Thus I must perforce have my escort of soldiers.” His tone registered his scorn for that lowliest of the free classes. “By the favor of Heaven, no need for them arose. The astrologers had indeed found a propitious day for my departure.”
“The presence of the soldiers may have helped,” said Yen Ting-kuo dryly.
Ts’ai Li smiled. “So speaks the bluff old baron. I gather your family has provided this district with its leaders for a goodly time?”
“Since the Emperor Wu-ti appointed my honored ancestor Yen Chi after his service against the Northern barbarians.”
“Ah, those were the glorious days.” Ts’ai Li breathed forth the least of sighs. “We impoverished heirs of them can only strive against a rising flood of troubles.”
Yen Ting-kuo shifted on his heels, cleared his throat, looked straight across the table, and said, “My lord is surely at the forefront in that effort, having made such a long and arduous journey. In what may we help further his righteous purposes?”