Chapter Thirty-Five: Difficulties

At the Flower-Pinning Banquet, the students who had just been silent and reserved began to show their true colors. Each was more eager to display his talents than the next; whenever the elder spoke, the students would echo his words, and some even spoke so well that Li Zisheng himself glanced their way, though only briefly before turning away again.

Li Zisheng was not particularly fussy about food, yet he would never let good fare slip by. Since arriving in the Great Tang, his meals had been simple and bland, just enough to fill his belly. Now, the delicacies before him awakened taste buds dulled for years, and so he ate heartily, his hands and mouth busy without pause.

In contrast to Li Zisheng’s unrestrained feasting, the students seated nearby looked at him as though he were a fool, shifting in their seats to distance themselves from this uncultured youth. “This one is greedy for food and drink; he’ll never amount to much. What a waste of a chance to attend the Flower-Pinning Banquet at Three Flavors Hall—mud that can’t be sculpted into anything.”

The elder paid Li Zisheng little heed. Amidst the banquet’s endless toasts, poetry, and debates on societal ills, Li Zisheng merely smiled in silence, his gaze fixed with keen interest on the food before him.

The banquet lasted quite some time, but it was clear that aside from those seated near the main table who were chosen by the elder, the rest of the students left empty-handed, their faces drained of any excitement.

When the elder departed with those select students through the tunnel, he passed Li Zisheng’s table, shook his head, and said nothing more. Only as he left did he remark, “Such a young lad, and yet such a hearty appetite. Rare, truly rare.”

It was obvious the elder spoke to himself, and Li Zisheng was wise enough not to answer. After finishing his meal, he rinsed his mouth with clean water, patted his stomach, and let out a deep, satisfied burp.

Li Zisheng cared little for the true purpose of the banquet at Three Flavors Hall. Without the proper rituals—the flower-pinning ceremony, the homage to the sages, the walk through the forest—it was but an empty shell, lacking any real substance. In truth, it was mere pretense.

The banquet itself was peculiar, but at least he enjoyed a fine meal. Since it was meant to entertain the students, it was lavish and generous, which pleased Li Zisheng immensely.

The banquet began mysteriously and ended just as abruptly. After the elder departed, the young maidservants brought tokens—like souvenirs—to each student.

Li Zisheng’s gift was a gold ingot wrapped in a silk pouch, which he did not bother to take out.

Baliang, being a servant, received only a common silver ingot, weighing about five taels. Yet Baliang was delighted, his earlier indignation forgotten as he gazed at his silver with a broad smile.

Seeing Baliang so happy, Li Zisheng felt at ease. Baliang had eaten nothing during the banquet, so this reward was welcome. Li Zisheng chuckled; as the banquet drew to a close, he guessed the elder would soon reappear, say a few words, and then dismiss everyone.

“Gentlemen, I am greatly gratified by your presence at this Flower-Pinning Banquet I have specially arranged. I have prepared these small gifts for you; please accept them.”

As Li Zisheng predicted, the elder soon returned and spoke of the gifts, making it clear the banquet was ending.

The students responded eagerly, repeating how honored they were to attend.

Guided by the maidservants, the students prepared to leave. Originally, the cave had only one passage, but by some miraculous gesture from the elder, sixteen passages opened at once, each seemingly leading somewhere different. It was a wondrous sight.

Even Li Zisheng was astonished, let alone the others. The wisdom and skill of the ancients truly impressed him.

He was led by a maidservant down the passage he had first entered.

As he was about to leave, the elder approached Li Zisheng, said little, handed him a book, and offered a few words of encouragement. Li Zisheng was somewhat confused but did not dwell on it.

The other students, however, showed obvious envy. One, a plump youth, even threw a chopstick at Li Zisheng.

In the Great Tang, to throw tableware at someone was a grave insult, a clear sign of contempt.

The chopstick hit Li Zisheng’s clothing squarely.

Before Li Zisheng could react, Baliang was incensed. His master had been treated unfairly enough, and now someone dared to provoke him further—too much! Baliang made to rush at the fat scholar, ready for a brawl.

Li Zisheng raised a hand and stopped him, glancing at Baliang and shaking his head, signaling not to stir up trouble or fall into another’s trap.

Li Zisheng showed no anger. He bent down, picked up the chopstick, and looked at the fat student before him, his eyes smiling.

“Brother, you dropped your chopstick,” Li Zisheng said lightly, causing the fat scholar to stumble, surprised by Li Zisheng’s quick wit. It was, in a way, a subtle insult.

“Brother, the sages of old taught us to observe propriety and respect the rites. This Flower-Pinning Banquet is a grand affair, rich in ceremony. If you cannot uphold its etiquette, then perhaps I must speak out and admonish you.”

With that, Li Zisheng placed the chopstick back gently, aligning it with care. His expression was solemn, not at all jesting.

The surrounding students took notice. Even the departing elder watched from somewhere unseen. Those about to leave paused, waiting to see how Li Zisheng would resolve this small predicament. Yet, given Li Zisheng’s youth and the poor impression he had left with his gluttony, none expected much from him.