Chapter 28

28

Seven in the evening.

Baoshan Road, Romantic Western Restaurant.

Shen Po arrived as agreed.

There was still half an hour until the appointed time.

According to Young Master Shen’s usual style, he would certainly be the very last person to arrive.

Arriving fashionably late was the true mark of a big shot.

But today was different.

Shen Po’s heart pounded like a drum, more nervous than when he had asked out a girl for the first time.

Though he arrived early, the others were not late either.

Just as Shen Po took his seat guided by the waiter, Asai Sui arrived with Zhang Ming.

He glanced at his wristwatch: 7:08.

Asai greeted him with a smile, “Student Shen, you’re here so early.”

“Hello, Teacher Asai.” Shen Po deliberately avoided looking at Zhang Ming. “I was worried my grand-uncle would be kept waiting, so I came early. He has so much on his plate and often forgets things, so let’s wait a bit. If he hasn’t arrived by seven-thirty, I’ll call and check on him.”

Perhaps having never experienced being ignored like this, Zhang Ming’s expression darkened slightly.

Asai did not mind at all and waved his hand. “He is a venerable elder of high prestige. It’s only right for us to wait. There’s no rush.”

Shen Po waved over the waiter to bring out the drinks and appetizers first.

Asai opened the conversation, “Student Shen changed majors deliberately, so you must usually be very fond of literature?”

Instead of asking about Zhang Yuanji, he began making small talk with Shen Po.

Shen Po asked Wen Yan, 【Is he anxious, or is he not?】

Wen Yan: 【He values this meeting greatly, otherwise he wouldn’t have come so early. But he can’t appear too eager, or it would backfire. From what I see, this Asai is quite particular.】

Shen Po scoffed, 【Particular? He’s just afraid of exposing his true face!】

Shen Po’s internal banter with Wen Yan didn’t stop him from answering Asai’s question.

“I do like it quite a bit. Lately, I’ve been reading 《A Midsummer Night’s Dream》. The poignant, tragic love between a man and a woman is quite touching.”

Wen Yan facepalmed. 【Did you remember the title wrong? Isn’t 《A Midsummer Night’s Dream》 a comedy? Where did you get tragic love from?】

Shen Po: 【Huh? Didn’t the two die for love in the end?】

Wen Yan: 【…Aren’t you talking about 《Romeo and Juliet》?】

Shen Po: 【Right, right, right! No wonder I thought the length of the titles felt different.】

Wen Yan: 【…】

Sure enough, when Shen Po said that, Asai Sui paused slightly, while Zhang Ming’s expression instantly took on a subtle sneer.

Shen Po quickly covered for himself, “Excuse me, I misspoke. It was 《Romeo and Juliet》. Both are Shakespeare’s works. I’m not very familiar with foreign literature and am more interested in our own national culture. Teacher Asai, I heard you mention the Song Dynasty in class, so you must be quite familiar with Su Shi and Huang Tingjian as well?”

Asai Sui smiled, “I do indeed admire Scholar Su’s erudition, especially his poetry. Looking back across several millennia of Chinese history, to be able to write in both the heroic and the graceful styles as he did, in my personal opinion, only Li Taibai of the Tang Dynasty could match him.”

Shen Po lightly tapped the table, “‘Straw sandals and bamboo cane are lighter than a horse. Who is afraid? In a misty rain cloak, I live out my life!'”

Asai Sui laughed, “Oh? I didn’t expect that someone from a wealthy background like you would like this poem by Dongpo Jushi. It doesn’t seem to fit your personality.”

Shen Po raised his chin. “Teacher Asai might be underestimating me. Even though I have no worries about food and clothing, in my heart, I still yearn for Su Dongpo’s spiritual world.”

“‘Spiritual world?'” Asai Sui mulled over the words and nodded slightly. “That’s quite an interesting way to put it. It seems you truly do like his work.”

Shen Po secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Naturally, these words were not his own; Wen Yan had fed them to him in real time.

In short, he was now Wen Yan’s simultaneous interpreter.

Seeing that Asai Sui actually approved of Shen Po, Zhang Ming felt a trace of dissatisfaction.

She stared at Shen Po, trying to find some trace of his ignorance, but to her surprise, Shen Po and Asai were conversing about Su Dongpo with growing rapport. Little did she know that Shen Po had an expert backing him: Wen Yan was using a perspective spanning over a century to converse with Asai Sui from a hundred years prior.

When had Young Master Shen, who was speaking nonsense just moments ago, become so articulate and quick-witted?

Zhang Ming felt a bit puzzled.

But this did not change her aversion to Shen Po.

She loved studying, and thus looked down on young masters and ladies who idled away their days relying on their family backgrounds.

Driven by ambition, her gaze naturally fixed upon advanced nations like Europe, America, and Japan, rather than a homeland currently ravaged by ceaseless warlord skirmishes.

In Zhang Ming’s eyes, Asai was the very embodiment of erudition. Her rose-tinted view of advanced, powerful nations was concentrated entirely on him. As for her own country, it was not that she lacked love for it, but rather that her feelings stemmed from a deeper lamentation over its weakness and misfortune. Shen Po’s very existence reminded her of how rife the wealthy class was with people like him, sitting on exceptional resources yet accomplishing nothing, people who could do nothing yet still live better than most simply by relying on their families.

Zhang Ming instinctively despised playboys like Shen Po. She could almost see the entire nation made up of such “dregs,” becoming increasingly lifeless and hopeless. She desperately wanted to break free, to embrace the splendid and radiant New World.

This mentality actually represented a large group of people in this era.

In troubled times, everyone sought their own way out with their own private thoughts; human nature was intricate and complex, something that could not be fully captured in a few simple words.

Had he not met Wen Yan, Shen Po might indeed have remained the kind of person Zhang Ming detested.

Just as Zhang Ming was lost in thought, Zhang Yuanji arrived accompanied by Zheng Sheng.

Shen Po instinctively looked down at his watch: exactly seven-thirty.

This old gentleman had an incredible sense of punctuality. Fortunately, he had arrived early today.

He had originally prepared himself for the possibility that the old gentleman would stubbornly refuse to come, in which case he would simply drag things out until the library caught fire. He hadn’t expected Zheng Sheng to actually persuade Zhang Yuanji. He immediately stood up to greet them.

“Grand-Uncle, you’re finally here! Please, have a seat!”

Zhang Yuanji leaned on his cane and walked slowly, not because he was infirm, but as if he wished to weigh every upcoming word with each deliberate step.

He glanced at Shen Po and pointed a finger at him with his other hand, wearing the slight scolding look of an elder, seemingly chiding him for taking matters into his own hands.

Shen Po’s skin had long been toughened by his family’s constant scoldings, so he paid no mind to such harmless rebukes. Grinning cheekily, he guided the old gentleman into the seat of honor and clapped his hands to signal the waiter to serve the food.

Taking advantage of an angle where no one was looking, he winked and made faces at Zheng Sheng.

Zheng Sheng understood. The message was clear: Now it’s up to you.

It had clearly been Shen Po’s idea, so how had it turned into his task? Zheng Sheng felt a touch of helplessness.

He did not know that Shen Po had nearly driven the conversation into the ground. Although Wen Yan was answering on his behalf from the side, Asai seemed intent on testing Shen Po’s literary knowledge, asking increasingly profound questions. Shen Po could barely understand them and felt that Asai was deliberately making things difficult for him. Had the conversation continued, his young master’s temper would have flared up.

Fortunately, Zheng Sheng had arrived.

Old Master Zhang had come as well, however reluctantly.

After the incident where Hayashishita had asked for calligraphy, Zhang Yuanji now understood that the Japanese viewed The Commercial Press like a savory, mouth-watering piece of braised pork. Refusing them once or twice would only provoke them; if they turned around and resorted to underhanded methods, working in secret and denying everything, the consequences would be far worse.

His once-firm resolve never to lend out materials had begun to waver. Before coming today, Zhang Yuanji had started pondering how he would respond if they asked to borrow books again.

Yet Asai was exceedingly polite, even more so than at the cultural salon last time. He did not mention borrowing books at all, instead engaging Zhang Yuanji in discussions centered around the collection at the Commercial Press.

This made Zhang Yuanji feel as if the Commercial Press were a granary constantly circled by a covetous rat that simply refused to take a bite.

Playing this waiting game was more agonizing than outright rejection.

Shen Po fell silent and buried his head in his food, occasionally asking Zhang Ming if she liked this dish or wanted some of that one, playing the part of a playboy showing interest in a young woman. Zhang Ming was trying to focus on the conversation between Asai and Zhang Yuanji; pushed to the brink of her patience yet unable to lose her temper, she could only suppress her irritation and shake her head again and again.

【Look at her face, it’s like she’s about to jump up and bite me!】 Shen Po was thoroughly amused as he communicated with Wen Yan.

Wen Yan: 【Be careful not to take it too far.】

Shen Po: 【I won’t. She wouldn’t dare ruin her image in front of Asai. I saw through her long ago. Ha, a fake foreign devil^[1]!】

Wen Yan: 【I think she genuinely believes Japan is more advanced than China, rather than deliberately acting like the fox borrowing the tiger’s might behind foreigners. There is a difference between the two. The former can still be corrected, but the latter is beyond saving.】

Shen Po: 【I don’t understand all your intricate reasoning. All I know is that she looks down on me and I don’t like her either, so the mutual dislike suits us just fine.】

While he grumbled back and forth with Wen Yan, Zheng Sheng was struggling on the other side to smooth things over and play peacemaker between Zhang Yuanji and Asai Sui, utterly exhausted.

But as their topic deepened, Shen Po could not join in, leaving only Zheng Sheng to barely hold the ground.

Zheng Sheng inwardly cried in distress. He had to keep his grandfather from losing his temper while also mediating the atmosphere so the conversation wouldn’t freeze up. Pity him, a mere student, for having never dealt with such a thing before.

Seeing Zheng Sheng so exhausted, Shen Po felt a bit of schadenfreude, though he couldn’t let it show. He discreetly glanced down at the time.

Eight-thirty.

An hour had passed since the dinner began, and the agreed-upon time for their plan was drawing near.

Shen Po lost the mood to laugh at Zheng Sheng’s plight. His heart grew anxious, wondering whether, once this scheme went into motion, things could still wrap up as they had anticipated.

Zhang Yuanji patiently conversed with Asai Sui. The man was undoubtedly learned, but the more they talked, the more certain Zhang Yuanji became that these Japanese, from Asai to Hayashishita, all harbored designs on The Commercial Press. They wanted to unearth treasures from that vast sea of books. Ostensibly, they spoke of borrowing books and rubbings, but in truth, once such “borrowed” items crossed the sea, getting them back was not simply a matter of asking.

His stance had shifted from steadfast refusal at the start to wavering now.

Zhang Yuanji knew well that no one could take being slapped in the face again and again, least of all the Japanese, who fancied themselves a great power. If Asai were rejected once more, no one knew whether he might take desperate risks and resort to force.

Thus, when Asai finally could not resist mentioning the rare Song and Yuan editions in the Oriental Library once more, Zhang Yuanji softened his tone.

“I have heard that Mr. Asai is quite knowledgeable about Ming dynasty culture as well. I have a batch of early Ming books on hand, but due to their age, it is hard to distinguish the genuine from the fake. If Mr. Asai has time another day, perhaps you could help me authenticate a few.”

Sensing the implication in Zhang Yuanji’s words, Asai Sui was overjoyed.

An elder like Zhang Yuanji had no shortage of profoundly learned friends in his circles, so why would he need him to help with authentication? It simply meant that his own “sincerity had prevailed,” and the other man was finally opening a crack, willing to let him get involved.

And after authenticating them, borrowing books would follow naturally as a matter of course.

Right at that moment, a tremendous boom shook the ground, rolling from across the street straight toward them and turning everyone pale with shock!