Shi Yuanping arrived earlier than Shi Huai had expected.
The morning light had not yet fully spread across the sky, and dewdrops still clung to the old locust tree in the courtyard of Shou'an Hall. He was already sitting at the stone table in a gray-blue Daoist robe.
Tangerine was crouched on the stone table, its round eyes fixed on the unexpected visitor.
Shi Yuanping reached out to pet it, but Tangerine let out a “mew,” leaped off the table, and darted to Shi Huai’s feet, rubbing its head against his boots.
Its ingratiating manner was completely different from the way it had behaved moments earlier.
“Uncle, you’re up early.”
Shi Huai sat down on the stone bench.
Shi Yuanping withdrew his gaze from Tangerine.
He pulled a folded sheet of paper from his sleeve and placed it on the stone table. Pressing a finger lightly against the paper, he pushed it toward Shi Huai.
“This is the itinerary I’ve planned for your travels. Take a look.”
Shi Huai unfolded the paper. It was densely covered with place names.
Starting from the capital, the route passed through Hebei, Shandong, Jiangsu, and Zhejiang before continuing south to Fujian.
He would then turn back, passing through Jiangxi, Huguang, and Henan on the way back to the capital. The entire journey was expected to take eight months.
Beside each place name were notes on the approximate number of days to be spent there, people worth visiting, and matters to be mindful of.
“Uncle has prepared everything very thoroughly.” Shi Huai folded the paper and slipped it into his sleeve. Then he raised his head and looked at Shi Yuanping’s unreadable face.
Shi Yuanping picked up the teapot on the stone table and poured himself a cup. He took a sip, set it down, and gently rubbed a finger along the rim.
“When are you planning to leave?”
“In three days. I’ve nearly finished packing.”
Shi Yuanping nodded and fell silent for a moment, as though weighing his words.
“Your father told me about Lin Huaiyuan coming to propose yesterday. You turned him down?”
“I did.” Shi Huai’s tone was calm.
“I’ve never even met the Lin family’s daughter. Why would I marry her?”
Shi Yuanping studied his placid face, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.
“As long as you know what you’re doing. As for the Lin family, refusing them is no great matter. They won’t hold a grudge against you over it.”
For the next three days, Shi Huai was busy packing, bidding farewell to relatives and friends, and taking care of the odds and ends he had not yet dealt with. He was so busy that his feet barely touched the ground.
Qinghe was even busier than he was.
She had to iron every piece of clothing Shi Huai would wear on the road, fold them neatly, and pack them into the trunks.
She had to divide the provisions he would eat during the journey into individual packages and stow them away.
She had to select every book Shi Huai would read on the road and stack them in perfect order.
Nanny Zhou stopped her several times, saying, “You can buy things along the way. There’s no need to bring so much.”
Qinghe agreed verbally, but her hands never stopped. The trunk grew fuller and fuller until, in the end, it could not even be closed.
On the day of departure, Shi Huai opened his eyes and remained lying in bed, listening to Qinghe and Nanny Zhou speaking in hushed voices outside, and to the “mew” of Tangerine as it chased sparrows around the courtyard.
Shi Yuanzhi stood at the entrance to Shou'an Hall, dressed in a dark blue robe, his hair tied up with a bamboo hairpin. He looked several years older than usual.
When he saw Shi Huai walk out of the courtyard, his lips moved as though he wanted to say something, but it seemed as if a wad of cotton had lodged in his throat, and he could not force out a single word.
Shi Huai walked up to him and stopped, then bowed formally.
“Father, I’m leaving.”
Shi Yuanzhi reached out and patted him on the shoulder. “Take care on the road. Have someone send word once you arrive.”
Shi Huai nodded, turned, and walked toward the main gate without looking back even once.
By the time the carriage set off from the gates of the marquis’s residence, the sky was already bright.
Shi Huai leaned against the carriage wall with his eyes closed, his fingers tapping unconsciously against his knee as he went over the route Shi Yuanping had given him.
His first stop would be Zhen Ding Prefecture in Hebei. He had heard that Longxing Temple there housed a thousand-armed Guanyin statue more than twenty meters tall—the largest cast-bronze Guanyin statue in the country. He had wanted to see it for a long time.
The journey from the capital to Zhen Ding Prefecture took about five days by the official road. It was neither too far nor too near, making it a good distance for slowly getting used to life on the road.
Once the carriage left the city, the road grew rough. Though the official road had been built by the imperial government, it had fallen into disrepair over the years, and the potholes made the carriage jolt violently.
Qinghe suffered terribly from motion sickness. Her face had gone pale as she leaned against the carriage wall with her eyes closed, her forehead covered in sweat.
Shi Huai handed her the waterskin and had her take a few sips. Then he soaked a handkerchief and placed it on her forehead. Only then did she feel somewhat better.
“I told you not to come with me, but you insisted. This is only the first day, and you’re already like this. How are you going to endure the next eight months?”
There was a trace of helplessness in Shi Huai’s voice.
Qinghe opened her eyes and glanced at him. Her lips were pale, and though her voice was weak, her stubbornness remained as strong as ever.
“If this servant doesn’t come along, who will look after Young Master? I don’t trust outsiders.”
Shi Huai looked at her, clearly suffering terribly yet still forcing herself to be brave. He said nothing more. Instead, he stuffed a cushion behind her back so she could sit more comfortably.
Tangerine poked its head out from one of the trunks. Its round eyes moved from Qinghe to Shi Huai, and it let out a “mew,” as if saying, “The two of you, stop arguing and let me have some peace.”
Shi Huai reached over and flicked it on the head. “You certainly know how to find yourself a good spot.”
Tangerine narrowed its eyes from the flick. Not only did it refuse to come out, it curled back into the trunk, leaving only its tail outside, swaying back and forth.
The five-day journey took six days because Qinghe’s motion sickness was so severe that Shi Huai had no choice but to stop for an extra day in a small town along the way.
The town was not large, with only a single main street. It took less than the time it took an incense stick to burn to walk from one end to the other.
There were two inns, three restaurants, and a number of general stores along the street, but business was sluggish everywhere.
Shi Huai chose an inn that looked reasonably clean and took three rooms—one for himself, one for Qinghe, and one for the coachman.
The innkeeper was a genial old man in his fifties. When he saw Shi Huai jump down from the carriage, he froze for quite some time.
The abacus beads in his hands scattered across the floor with a clatter. As he bent down to retrieve them, he struck his head against the counter.
Shi Huai helped gather the beads and returned them to the counter.
The innkeeper thanked him repeatedly, but his gaze remained glued to Shi Huai’s face, unable to pull itself away.
“Are you heading to the capital, honored guest?” the innkeeper asked, stating the obvious.
Shi Huai smiled. “No. I’m traveling to broaden my learning.”
The innkeeper nodded. At last, he shifted his gaze away from Shi Huai’s face and lowered his head to rattle the abacus a few times.
The next few days passed fairly smoothly. The carriage continued south along the official road, passing through one town after another and encountering all manner of people.
Whenever Shi Huai arrived somewhere, he would stay for a day or two to visit the local scenic sites and historic monuments, call on renowned scholars and learned men, and learn about the local customs and culture.
He recorded everything he saw and heard each day with pen and paper. Sometimes he wrote at length, sometimes only briefly, but he never once failed to keep up the habit.
Qinghe carefully collected the notes page by page, placing them in a small trunk prepared specifically for that purpose. She locked it and kept the key close to her at all times.
Tangerine, meanwhile, was living in comfort throughout the journey.
Every day, it slept soundly in the carriage. Once it woke, it would sprawl beside the window and watch the scenery, occasionally stretching out a paw to swat at butterflies flying past.
When it failed to catch one, it did not get upset. It simply changed positions and continued lounging by the window.
One evening half a month later, Shi Huai and his companions arrived at a place called Qingyang Town.
