569. Daily Life (3): A Birthday Present

Translator: DragonRider

The children got him some wood carvings. There were five of them in total: Yuwen Tong, Ling Zhang, Yuwen Qi, Yuwen Lin and Yuwen Yue – all five members of the family.

It had been Yuwen Qi that had done the wood carving; Yuwen Lin had drawn the pictures; Yuwen Yue had supervised them on the side. These wood carvings, the fruits of the collective efforts of the three teenagers, had been beautifully wrapped up in a big gift box.

“No wonder a couple of days ago Mr. Mu told me in private that Qi asked him for some vulnerary ointment, that I’d better find out what it was about. After I returned here, I asked Qi about it, but he wouldn’t tell me, and you dissuaded me from persisting with my questioning. His behavior was rather abnormal in those days. Now it turns out he was doing this.” Ling Zhang fingered the five wooden figurines, a tender look in his eyes. Knowing that his son had carved these stroke by stroke and even hurt his hand, Ling Zhang felt a sense of mingled heartache and warmth.

Yuwen Tong said, “Those were a token of the kids’ affection for you, and I felt obliged to give them an opportunity to finish them.”

Ling Zhang chuckled and, after fingering the five wood carvings caressingly for a few moments, ranged them on top of the headboard. The boy’s techniques of sculpture were poor and his works looked rough, but what mattered was the efforts he had put into this. Besides, this kind of natural style of simplicity imparted a novel flavor to this room full of exquisite furnishings.

“They’re beautiful,” beamed Ling Zhang, paying his son’s work an unsparing compliment.

Seeing that he was happy, Yuwen Tong said, “I got you a gift as well. Check it out.”

Ling Zhang turned to look at him. “What is it?”

Yuwen Tong did not reply but told him to open it to see for himself. Ling Zhang found among the pile of presents the one sent by Yuwen Tong. It was in a casket, which was not very eye-catching, so he had not noticed it sooner.

Ling Zhang, his curiosity now piqued by the shroud of mystery that Yuwen Tong cloaked the gift in, sat down and attempted to open the casket.

After a few moments’ exertion of strength, he found that the casket would not open.

Ling Zhang was confused. Was it because he was not doing it right? He exerted more strength, but the casket was still tightly shut.

“Is the lock broken?” he asked. What other explanation was there? Surely Yuwen Tong would not make trouble for him by tampering with the gift box?

Yuwen Tong smiled but made no reply.

Ling Zhang, ” … ”

Feeling that his intelligence was being challenged, he picked up the casket and scrutinized it.

He spotted the problem almost immediately. The lock of the casket was actually a red herring. It could not be opened in a conventional way.

Ling Zhang, having developed a certain level of proficiency in Formations over the years, found without much difficulty the correct way to open it.

Click.

A crisp sound was heard.

After he slid back the fine clasp, the lid of the casket spontaneously sprang open and with that a flow of pleasant clinking issued from it. This was a music box!

The pleasant clinking was a beautiful melody. There was a revolving cylinder in it. Every time the cylinder moved a notch, a note was sounded. The mellifluous tune lightly resounded through the imperial bedchamber. Ling Zhang had never heard anything like this before.

He gazed at it in amazement. He had once heard his grandfather mention this kind of music boxes. It was said that in the Xia Dynasty, a craftsman of genius had made a music box and presented it to the then emperor, which had caused a sensation that had lasted some time, but hardly any music boxes had been made ever since!

“Th–This is a music box? The fabled kind? Where did you get it? And when did you bring it here? Why didn’t I find out about it sooner?” Astonished, Ling Zhang asked a battery of questions, goggling at the box, a manifestly curious, excited and searching look in his eyes.

Seeing that he was happy, Yuwen Tong came to know that the trouble he had gone to to prepare this gift had been worthwhile.

“You like it?”

“Yeah!”

Who wouldn’t like this amazing thing?

“Don’t prolong the agony. Where did you get this?”

Seeing that Ling Zhang was eager to know, Yuwen Tong slowly replied, “I bought it from a descendant of that master craftsman. Actually I have your uncle to thank for that. He was the one who wrote me a letter and told me about it before I sent some men to make contact with that artisan.”

“My uncle?” Ling Zhang was surprised.

Yuwen Tong nodded.

The descendant of that master craftsman lived in an area which used to be southern Wan Kingdom. He led a fairly secluded life, worked as a carpenter and was quite famous in that prefecture.

But nobody could have bargained on him being a descendant of that master craftsman of the Xia Dynasty. Ling Zhaowen, when dealing with a case that the artisan had been involved in, had struck up a relationship with him, found out about this secret afterward and come to know that the man possessed a duplicate of that music box which took one of his elders over ten years to finish.

After being informed of it, Yuwen Tong had not tried to force the artisan into selling the music box. He had just made a deal with that man. Having got the box, he had planned to give it to Ling Zhang at their tenth wedding anniversary, but at that time the music box had had a glitch and the artisan had been trying to fix it. The box had not been delivered back to the capital city before the anniversary, so Yuwen Tong had decided to wait until Ling Zhang’s birthday to give it to him.

When Ling Zhang had heard the story, he stroked the edge of the music box and, listening to the slow melody, asked, “How long could this tune go on?”

Yuwen Tong said, “If you don’t close the lid, it’ll keep playing until it can’t continue.”

In fact the tune was not complex, and it would repeat itself when it ended. Beautiful as it was, it would no doubt become boring some day, but this was a birthday present from Yuwen Tong, so Ling Zhang, though having heard the tune several times now, found it as charming as always. Worried that the box might malfunction if it played for too long at a time, he reluctantly closed the lid and the clasp after listening for another few moments.

“Why did you close it?” Yuwen Tong asked.

Ling Zhang said, “Because I want it to stay in working order for a longer time.”

Yuwen Tong caught on to the undertone contained in Ling Zhang’s words. This music box was a present from him, so Ling Zhang wanted it to be in good shape forever.

“If you like this kind of stuff, I’ll have the Ministry of Works send some men to learn from that artisan. No matter how long it’ll take – one year, two years, three years or even a decade, I’ll make sure someone masters the skills necessary to make this kind of music boxes.”

Ling Zhang said, “Those skills are like family heirlooms. He won’t easily agree to impart them to other people.”

“If that’s the case, I’ll make a deal with him,” said Yuwen Tong.

Ling Zhang put the music box beside the wood carvings from his children, turned around and said to him, “This is the only one I want.”

Yuwen Tong lifted his eyebrows, walked over, put his arms around Ling Zhang’s waist and rocked from side to side with him for a moment. “My gift really means so much to you?”

Ling Zhang also raised his eyebrows, looking back at him. “If I’d acted like it meant little to me, you would have got angry at me by now.”

Yuwen Tong said, “I’m not that kind of person.”

Ling Zhang gave a little snort. Not that kind of person? He knew very well what kind of person Yuwen Tong was.

“I got you a music box. What will you give me when it’s my birthday?” Yuwen Tong, complacent about his stroke of genius, asked about his future birthday present.

Ling Zhang intentionally furrowed his brows and said, “You’re an emperor, and you still want a gift?”

Yuwen Tong looked at him quietly for a moment. “Presents from you are special to me.”

“Ooooh,” said Ling Zhang, “but I think it’s too much trouble, so I think I’ll pass.”

Yuwen Tong lapsed into silence, his face falling, but his arms were still around Ling Zhang’s waist.

Ling Zhang snickered and gently scribbled on Yuwen Tong’s chest with his fingers. “There, there! Stop sulking. You’ll know what the present is when your birthday arrives. If I tell you right now, it’ll ruin the surprise. Be patient.”

It was after hearing these words that Yuwen Tong relaxed and said, “I will.”

Ling Zhang slightly shook his head. They had been married for so many years, but Yuwen Tong was still like this.

However, though on the surface he was complaining, the gleam of happiness in his eyes was ill-concealed.

Naturally, Yuwen Tong was not really mad at him. Even if Ling Zhang would not prepare any gifts for him, he still would not be angry with Ling Zhang. He had feigned anger only to play along and have some fun.

Yuwen Tong had never played the emperor card in front of Ling Zhang. They had been married for over ten years, and sometimes even Ling Zhang himself found it amazing that he always had an urge to hug Yuwen Tong whenever they were together, that he began to miss Yuwen Tong even if they had parted for only a very short time. No wonder people said that the two of them were unbelievably gooey over each other, that it was astounding the two of them still had such feelings for each other after being married for ten years.

Ling Zhang on occasions wondered what it would be like if some day the chemistry between them waned.

The very thought of that struck him as insupportable.

He could not bear Yuwen Tong no longer clinging to him like this, or Yuwen Tong cold-shouldering him, or Yuwen Tong stopping showing him all this affection and love that he had been showing all these years. When they had got married, he had thought that he could always leave the palace if things did not work out, but now, he felt that he might be reduced to doing something horrible if some day that did happen.

Yuwen Tong felt Ling Zhang’s arms around his waist tighten and also perceived the subtle change in Ling Zhang’s mood. “What’s wrong?” he immediately asked.

Ling Zhang raised his head and looked deep into Yuwen Tong’s eyes, making no reply.

It struck Yuwen Tong that the expression in Ling Zhang’s eyes was somewhat uncharacteristic, but before he could take a closer look, Ling Zhang averted his face and buried it in Yuwen Tong’s chest, lightly rubbing his cheek against it. “Ten years, twenty years, thirty years … You’ll always be mine.”

Yuwen Tong was momentarily astonished before he got a shrewd idea of what this was about. His lips curving in a faint smile, he looked down at Ling Zhang and said, “Thirty years is too short. We have a lifetime.”

With that he scooped Ling Zhang up. “Come on. Last night you promised me you’d be my model so that I could finish my picture. Let’s get started.”

At these words, Ling Zhang instantly extricated himself from those emotions, all his miscellaneous thoughts vanishing. “What picture?” he asked vigilantly.

“What do you think? The picture you undertook to help me finish last night.” Yuwen Tong carried him into the side hall, where there was a private study of theirs.

The night before Ling Zhang had got drunk, and he did not remember much about what had happened. In addition, he and Yuwen Tong had fooled around all night. He could only vaguely recall that Yuwen Tong had wheedled him and requested him to help him finish some picture. At that time he had been giddy due to the intense pleasure and thickly agreed.

And now, having sobered up, Ling Zhang had a hunch that Yuwen Tong was up to no good, that he would sure as hell play tricks on him.

“Last night I was drunk. What could I possibly have agreed to do for you? Don’t you dare take advantage of me. I’m not helping you draw any pictures!” Ling Zhang refused.

Yuwen Tong, having sat him onto a desk already, said to him, “You will. You made me a promise and you will honor it.”

With that he reached out a hand to undress Ling Zhang. Ling Zhang’s foreboding proved right. “Why the hell are you taking off my clothes?!” he demanded.