Chapter 24

What’s not worth it?

Wang Yang felt utterly bewildered and did not sit down hastily; the chubby boy thought Wang Yang was ignoring his advice and pleaded earnestly:

“I’m telling you, someone’s already tried this trick. The Yin family of Chen Commandery—Yin’s fifth son—did exactly what you’re doing, changed clothes and went to bump into the carriage. What happened? His legs were broken! He even got dragged to court! Don’t say his father was the Governor’s Chief Clerk—just being an Yin family son meant he shouldn’t have been beaten without cause! But what happened? He got beaten anyway and thrown in jail for six or seven days!”

Wang Yang immediately realized there was a misunderstanding—the chubby boy must have seen his plain clothes and heard the black-haired man call him “Young Master,” so he assumed Wang Yang had deliberately changed attire. But he didn’t know what “bumping into the carriage” meant.

He was about to inquire about the Jingzhou gentry, so he said nothing, sat down instead, and feigned shock: “The Chief Clerk is a senior assistant!”

In the Six Dynasties, local prefectural officials were divided into upper and lower assistants; the Chief Clerk, the Military Supervisor, the Assistant Governor, and the Chief Clerk were all top-ranking officials under the Inspector, also called “upper assistants,” holding great prestige.

Lu Su once evaluated Pang Tong: “Pang Shi Yuan is no mere local official; only when placed in the roles of Chief Clerk or Assistant Governor can his true talent be unleashed.” “Chief Clerk” here refers to “Chief Clerk from the Office.” He oversaw all administrative documents and ranked just below the Assistant Governor.

“So what? I’m from the Le family of Yuyang, son of the Jingzhou Assistant Governor—and still I can’t get near her!” The chubby boy shook his head, drank his wine, and sighed: “Heaven knows, I’m no seasoned rake like Yin the Fifth. I truly admire Xie Niangzi! I’ve carried a letter in my bosom for two months, yet I’ve never even had the chance to hand it to her!”

“Niangzi” was a respectful term for women at the time, akin to “Miss” in later eras.

Wang Yang found the chubby boy’s forced maturity and sighing demeanor amusing and asked curiously: “Who is this Xie Niangzi?”

The chubby boy grew angry: “I’m trying to help you—I stopped you, told you the inside story—and now you’re pretending ignorance? If you want to go, go! No one’s stopping you!”

This chubby boy seemed straightforward.

Wang Yang wanted to ask for details, but if he claimed he was just passing through and had nothing to do with this, the boy might not want to talk to him anymore.

First, if he were just passing through, there’d be no reason for him to change clothes. Even if the boy was kind-hearted, he was still gentry—would he really chat with a commoner?

Second, if he had nothing to do with this, why should the boy talk to him? And wouldn’t all the boy’s earlier efforts to warn and explain be wasted?

Wang Yang lowered his voice, his eyes filled with sincerity:

“Brother, don’t be angry—I truly didn’t know. I’m not from here; I lost a bet and came here. Thanks to your warning, I’d have been badly fooled today!”

Seeing only a pot of wine, a dish of flat beans, and a dish of walnut kernels on the table, Wang Yang said:

“I’ll treat you to this meal—to thank you!” Then he called out: “Waiter! Bring two more dishes to go with the wine!”

The black-haired man flinched in alarm—he barely had enough money, hadn’t even bought clothes, and now the Young Master wanted to treat someone!

Sigh—he had nothing to do with this anyway. If the Young Master wants to treat, let him. If he can’t pay, I’ll fight Du Sanye to the death. I must find a way to destroy the contract before I die—don’t let him get dragged down with me.

“No need, no need—what’s worth eating here? Unless you’re lucky with the location, who’d come here to dine? After we see Xie Niangzi, let’s go to ‘Juding Xiang’ for a real meal.” The chubby boy bowed to Wang Yang: “Yuyang Le Pang, courtesy name Zigao.”

Wang Yang also bowed: “Langya Wang Yang, courtesy name Zhiyan.”

Le Pang was startled: “You’re from the Langya Wang clan! Who is Wang Tai to you?”

“Just fellow clansmen,” Wang Yang replied briefly, then steered the conversation back: “So, what exactly is this Xie Niangzi about?”

“You’re from the Langya Wang clan and don’t know about Xie Si Niangzi, whose talent and grace rival Xie Daoyun of the Jin era? Don’t you live in Jiankang?”

Jiankang was today’s Nanjing, capital of the Southern Qi, the gathering place of the highest aristocratic families.

Wang Yang thought quickly and said: “I’m a distant branch of the Wang clan—I can’t afford to live in Wuyi Lane.”

Wuyi Lane was where the Wang and Xie families resided in the capital during the Eastern Jin and Southern Dynasties; their descendants were called “Wuyi Zhulang” or “Wuyi Zidi.”

Wang Yang meant to indicate he was a marginal branch of the Wang clan. But he knew only half the truth: the Wuyi Lane Wang lineage was not even the most prestigious within the Langya Wang clan—it was only second-tier.

Still, even the “second-tier” Langya Wang clan dwarfed most other clans. Even in the Tang dynasty, Liu Yuxi still lamented: “The swallows that once flew on the halls of Wang and Xie now nest in commoners’ homes,” using the departure of the swallows to symbolize the end of the golden age of the top aristocratic families.

Upon hearing Wang Yang admit he was a distant branch of the Wang clan, Le Pang instantly warmed to him:

“I’ve never been to Jiankang either. But I’ve heard Xie Si Niangzi is famous there. She’s the only daughter of Xie Fei. You know Xie Fei, right? He was just promoted to Minister of the Central Secretariat this year.”

Wang Yang, eager to encourage Le Pang’s enthusiasm, chimed in: “So she’s the chancellor’s daughter.”

During the Northern and Southern Dynasties, apart from the Three Excellencies, the heads of the Ministry of State Affairs and the Central Secretariat were both called “chancellors.” The Minister of the Central Secretariat was the head of that office.

Fortunately, the political system of the Wei-Jin and Northern-Southern Dynasties remained largely unchanged; otherwise, Wang Yang’s ignorance of Southern Qi history would have made conversation impossible.

The chubby boy loved this topic and exclaimed excitedly:

“Exactly! Otherwise, even if she were from the Chen Commandery Xie clan, the Yin family wouldn’t have swallowed this humiliation! But her fame isn’t because she’s a chancellor’s daughter—it’s because of her peerless beauty and unmatched talent, making her one of the ‘Three Beauties of the Imperial Capital,’ alongside the daughter of the Marquis of Xichang and the sister of General Shen!”

“It’s said the Northern barbarians’ Princess of Pengcheng, famed for her beauty, once sent a painter with her diplomatic mission to secretly sketch the three women. When the mission returned, she saw the first portrait and lost her smile; the second, and she grew listless; the third, and she lost her appetite, refusing to speak for days!”

Le Pang, carried away, forgot the customary prefix “false” before “Princess of Pengcheng” from the Northern court. But since this was casual gossip, no one would care.

Wang Yang found the story utterly unbelievable—he suspected the tale was invented to “boost national pride,” casting the three beauties as crushing the princess’s vanity. Still, the fame of the Three Beauties was undeniable.

Le Pang gazed upward, as if lost in fantasy: “If I could see the Three Beauties, I’d gladly accept a fourth- or third-grade rank from the Nine-Rank System!”

The Nine-Rank System, Wang Yang thought silently. So the chubby boy hadn’t yet been rated—and thus held no official post.

“Too bad—the Marquis of Xichang’s daughter keeps to herself, and General Shen is now Inspector of Yingzhou, surely taking his sister with him—I’ll never get to see them.”

No sooner had Le Pang sighed than someone in the tavern cried out: “Here she comes!”

Everyone instantly fell silent, straining their necks toward the window. Le Pang forgot Wang Yang entirely, fists clenched, eagerly peering out.

Wang Yang followed the crowd’s gaze and saw a small, elegant ox-drawn carriage parked at the mouth of a side alley. Though modest in size, its canopy was made of fine, plain silk, with tassels and jade ornaments hanging from each corner.

The carriage body bore exquisite carvings, their lacquer glinting softly in the sunlight.

Four men stood outside the carriage, dressed in blue robes and small caps, short sticks at their belts, alert and watchful.

After waiting a while, the carriage didn’t move—it was a false alarm; Xie Niangzi hadn’t yet stepped out.

Everyone sighed in disappointment, feeling cheated, and began angrily hunting down the liar who had raised the alarm.

Wang Yang watched Le Pang and the other youths all lamenting together, barely suppressing a laugh.

In truth, it was understandable: ancient times lacked modern audiovisual technology—you couldn’t just look at any beauty you wanted. In those days, even catching a distant glimpse was hard, so it was no wonder these “fanboys” were so fervent.

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Note: ① The term “Miss” originated in the Song dynasty, originally referring to women of low status. It was not until the mid-to-late Yuan dynasty that it came to denote unmarried daughters of wealthy families. During the Northern and Southern Dynasties, such women were usually called “Niangzi,” “Nülang,” or simply “[Family]’s daughter.” But surviving colloquial records from the Northern and Southern Dynasties are extremely scarce; perhaps other terms existed then that we no longer know.

② Some scholars argue that “Niangzi” before the Song dynasty exclusively referred to unmarried women, but this is not necessarily true. Liu Zongyuan’s “Eulogy for My Niece Cui” begins: “Uncle Zongyuan offers this sacrifice to the spirit of the Twenty-Sixth Niangzi”—this niece was married. Likewise, the “Collection of Anecdotes from the Court” records: “Liang Renyu, General of the Imperial Guard, once favored a maid; his wife Li was jealous and cruel, binding the maid and striking her skull. The maid cried out: ‘I am lowly, powerless—Madam, you bind my neck, how cruel your torment!’” Here “Niangzi” is the maid’s term for her mistress—also a married woman. But these examples are from Tang texts; evidence from the Northern and Southern Dynasties is insufficient to determine whether “Niangzi” then exclusively meant unmarried girls.

③ The Book of Rites states: “A man receives his courtesy name at twenty.” This was the ideal Zhou ritual. But even in the Spring and Autumn period, people often ignored it; by the Wei-Jin era, it became mere formality, with children under ten receiving courtesy names, and even infants being given them. For example, the Book of Jin’s biography of Ruan Fu records: “When Fu was born, his aunt took the line from Wang Yanshou’s ‘Ode to the Lu Guang Palace’—‘Barbarians gather in awe before the upper pillars’—and used it as his courtesy name.”