Tang Dynasty Swordsman

Page 47

Upon hearing this, the scholar's expression changed drastically. He immediately turned away and whispered to his companions. Li Ji, with his keen hearing, vaguely heard—"Last time you came, you played the zither. I racked my brains to write a poem for the zither. Why are you playing the pipa today? This...this is completely unprepared! What should we do?"

Li Ji chuckled inwardly, but refused to gloat or make sarcastic remarks. Instead, he turned his attention back to the dishes on the table. The sound of the pipa was like pearls falling onto a plate, melodious and clear, but in Li Ji's mind, it was far less appealing than the few pieces of lamb chops.

—Of all the dishes served here, this peppered roasted lamb chop is the undisputed champion in terms of both flavor and fat.

A short while later, the music ended, and not long after, someone could be heard reciting poetry in the main room. The voice was quite deep, suggesting it was an elderly person. Li Ji then listened intently again, and heard the poem read:

"Tonight, who asks about the fairy maiden? The five strings resonate with cold, melodious notes. Flying fairies dance together in the clear moonlight, their drunken charm betraying the youthful spirit."

Li Ji couldn't help but chuckle to himself: "Trash."

Chapter 48, A Game

"Tonight, who asks about the fairy maiden? The five strings resonate with cold, melodious notes. Flying fairies dance together in the clear moonlight, their drunken charm betraying the youthful spirit."

After the poem was recited, the crowd erupted in praise, but Li Ji secretly judged it as "rubbish!"

He may not be able to compose poetry, but that doesn't mean he can't appreciate it. If it's a good work with a similar style, such as some of Wang Wei's and Meng Haoran's works, he would have a hard time distinguishing between them; but for those inferior and low-class pieces, he can tell them apart at a glance.

This poem is pure cliché and utterly empty. To sum it up in one sentence: A fairy plays the pipa beautifully, but alas, I am no longer a youth and dare not presume to be worthy of her. This kind of work is basically on the same level as the poems composed by those few idiots in the royal family at the roast meat banquet—and it even lacks a bit of nobility.

As for those who cheered, they were either of equal ability or the old gentleman was of high status and famous, so they had no choice but to echo and flatter him.

Then several more people recited poems, mostly four-line poems of seven characters each, and some four-line poems of five characters each. The best of them could barely pass. It seems that the guests at Zhongqu were only so-so... Judging from the guests, Li Ji was even more convinced that the so-called Wang Wei teaching poetry was just a false advertisement.

After the people in the room finished reciting, they did not hear the evaluation they had hoped for, and then the sound of the pipa began again. This second piece was different from the prelude; the tempo was slightly faster, and the content was more cheerful, interspersed with several tremolos, probably for showing off virtuosity. After this piece was played, it was the turn of the guests in the corridor to compose poems. Among them were several who were obviously merchants or playboys, lacking in learning but with plenty of money, and immediately shouted out—"Two pieces of brocade for Susu to wrap her head," or "A thousand coins as a reward."

Li Ji thought to himself that only those who write good poetry can become his patrons. Those of you who only offer money don't even have a chance. He wondered why everyone was so excited... They probably had the same mentality as many star-struck fans in later generations.

Jia Huai panicked and whispered to Li Ji, "Should we take our leave now... This is a reward of one or two strings of cash! Poverty really limits my imagination—I shouldn't have come here tonight!"

Li Ji ignored him, instead listening to the conversation between the scholar and his companion at the next table: "It seems I won't be able to be Su Su's guest tonight, but I can't just hand in a blank paper and lose face. Besides... I'm really short of money, could you brothers be willing to lend me some?"

Before they could reach a decision, it was their turn. The scholar could only stand up awkwardly and stammer, "My thoughts are not flowing smoothly for the moment... Perhaps I can choose my own topic, and not necessarily use 'Pipa' as the title?"

Everyone burst into laughter, but Lü Miaozhen did not make things difficult for him. She first asked the guests to lower their voices, and then said, "Poetic inspiration sometimes runs dry, and talent sometimes falters; this is common. Since this young man has no interest in the pipa, he may choose another topic—please use whatever is available at this banquet to compose a poem."

Upon hearing this, the scholar was dumbfounded. He hurriedly searched around, but could not find the zither anywhere... This was a real problem. Who could compose a poem in such a short time?

Oh, the saying goes, "One can compose a poem in seven steps," and there are indeed great talents in the world, but unfortunately, it's not me...

Wanting to start afresh, he tried to improvise a poem, but amidst the laughter of the crowd, his mind went completely blank, and he couldn't even remember the rhymes... He could only stand there awkwardly, occasionally glancing at his companions for help.

Finally, one of his companions, unable to bear it any longer and unwilling to contribute money, leaned on the table, slightly drunk, staggered to his feet, and asked, "May I compose a poem for you?"

Su Su was the top courtesan of Lü Miaozhen's household, so she naturally valued her status and would not allow all the guests to flock into her "boudoir" and sleep with her all at once... However, if the guests competed with each other, they would be afraid of losing harmony and causing trouble, which would be detrimental to the Lü family; therefore, it was stipulated that each guest only needed to compose a poem or pay a sum of money.

So what this guest meant was: if my poem happens to catch Miss Susu's eye, could it be attributed to my companion, so that he can get close to Miss Susu?

Lü Miaozhen considered for a while—Li Ji couldn't see her, and she probably consulted Su Su's opinion—before replying, "This is a one-time exception—I wonder if my lord will still compose a poem on the pipa, or on something else?"

The guest pointed to the table and said, "Your 'Golden Bone Crispy Roast' is quite delicious..."

Li Ji turned his head and looked in the direction the man was pointing. It turned out to be the plate of pepper-roasted lamb chops. "You also think this is the best, right?" He couldn't help but feel a sense of kinship.

Then the guest recited a poem about roasted lamb chops: "The meat is tender and the bones are soft, the flavor is delicious, pepper enhances the aroma of the fat. Who took away the loyal servant of the North Sea and gave him to the cook to accompany with millet and sorghum?"

Laughter filled the room, but Li Ji couldn't help but secretly cheer.

Actually, this poem isn't exactly a masterpiece, but its language is simple and easy to understand, its rhythm is brisk and lively, and the last two lines seem to have a hidden ambition, posing a question based on an object, and expressing feelings based on that question. It uses lamb chops as a theme, yet it doesn't adhere strictly to that theme. It could barely be considered a good piece. It's just a pity that its cleverness was misunderstood.

The Kaiyuan and Tianbao eras, hailed as a golden age, fostered a decadent literary style, with works like Li Bai's "Qingping Diao" being widely praised and imitated. Occasionally, some scholars witnessed the decline of morals and sensed an impending crisis, but lacking practical skills, they were mostly helpless and could only protect themselves, turning to nature for solace. Thus, the styles of Wang Yangming and Meng Haoran flourished. Military styles, such as those of Yan Wu and Gao Shi, were actually quite marginalized.

Li Ji believed that after this upheaval, the golden age would be over, and the poetic style of the Tang Dynasty would undergo a significant change. The ornate and beautiful style would be short-lived, while the ethereal and escapist approach and the pragmatic and engaged approach would diverge into two extremes. Unfortunately, due to the disruption of transportation and communication caused by the turmoil, many realistic works reflecting on current affairs and focusing on people's livelihoods may have already been produced, but Li Ji has yet to read them.

However, it is clear that everyone present today is only superficially skilled in poetry—except for this one who wrote about lamb chops—and is still indulging in old-fashioned styles, only capable of piling up flowery words and indulging in pointless lamentations. They cannot appreciate the simple and straightforward beauty of "the meat is tender and the bones are soft, the taste is delicious," let alone understand the grief and helplessness of "who will serve the loyal ministers of Beihai?" Therefore, the boos from the audience are quite understandable.

Li Ji himself couldn't help but glance at the guest a few more times. He looked to be no more than twenty years old, dressed in a white robe with black trim, somewhat like a student of the Imperial Academy. The man chuckled but wasn't annoyed. He simply glanced sideways at the main room and asked loudly, "Is this suitable?"

Lü Miaozhen replied, "Of course it's suitable..."

The man laughed and said, "A suitable match is fine. I don't aspire to be a member of the inner circle, but there's no need for extra gifts either." He then pulled his friend, who was still awkwardly standing next to him, and they sat down side by side.

The guests laughed again, then turned their attention to Li Ji and Jia Huai at the end.

Jia Huai shrank back, instinctively avoiding everyone's gaze. Li Ji, however, smiled, neither turning his head nor rising, but loudly proclaimed, "I've come here today only for fine wine and food, with no intention of entering into any entourage..."

Before the others could laugh, he added, "Since we don't have to use the pipa as the theme, let me just make up a few lines to make you laugh."

Jia Huai looked at Li Ji in surprise—You can write poetry? I've never heard of that before… Let alone writing poetry, we traveled from Fengxiang to Suiyang, a journey of nearly half a month, talking every night, and you didn't mention a single word about related poems or articles.

Li Ji certainly couldn't write poetry, but he had a vast repertoire of poems. Although he had long since given up on the delusion of making a name for himself by copying poems, he was now here tonight, unexpectedly encountering a prostitute who used poetry to secure her clients. He didn't want to be like Jia Huai, a timid and cowardly country bumpkin. He had initially thought that these guests were all unknown figures, and none of them would recognize him. Would copying a famous work even get out and cause him trouble?

Upon hearing his neighbor recite a poem about lamb chops, Li Ji had another idea: "Let me copy a poem that you ignorant fools can't appreciate—just like the poem about lamb chops—so that I won't lose face or lose face."

So let me state first, I have no intention of soliciting a prostitute, I'm not going to compete with you, and since there's a precedent, I'll set my own topic—speaking of which, the few pipa poems I have in my belly are all too elegant, what if I accidentally win first place?—Then I picked up a chopstick, pointed to the leftovers on the table, and tapped my wine cup as a rhythm before reciting in a melodious voice:

"When I hoe the field at noon, my sweat drips down to the ground. Who knows that every grain of rice on the table is the result of hard work?"

This poem, "Sympathy for the Peasants," was one Li Ji had learned in his elementary school Chinese textbook in a previous life. He assumed it was impossible for anyone in this world to write it—the author, Li Shen, might not even have been born yet—and thus felt free to copy it without hesitation. The key is that the poem's language is extremely colloquial, and being in the ancient style, it doesn't adhere to the tonal patterns of regulated verse. Like Li Bai's "Bright Moonlight Before My Bed," to a layman, it's practically indistinguishable from a rhyming jingle. Even if Li Bi were present, he probably wouldn't have suspected it was plagiarism.

Li Bi would most likely say, "Although this poem is not elegant, its meaning is profound. It is clear that Chang Wei is not without poetic talent, but simply has not studied it—would you like to learn poetry from me?"

Li Ji would often counter with, "Brother, where would your poetic talent rank in our time? How does it compare to Gao Shi? How does it compare to Yan Wu?"

As expected, after the recitation ended, everyone burst into laughter again, and someone said, "Stop making fun of him. After all, it can barely be called 'poetry.' Who says that rural leisure songs are not included in the 'Airs of the States'?"

Only the one who wrote about lamb chops seemed to glance at Li Ji a few more times.

Ignoring the crowd's discussions, Li Ji leisurely pulled out a silver ingot from his bundle, slammed it onto the table with a "snap," and asked, "Is this suitable? If not, this ingot will be the reward."

The laughter subsided slightly—even if the person at the end of the table had no poetic talent, he was at least rich, and dressed in a long robe, so he was either a wealthy merchant or a wealthy scholar… Could he be some uneducated rich kid?

Then Lü Miaozhen said, "Although it is appropriate, since you have bestowed it upon me, it would be impolite to refuse." Who cares whether your poem is good or not? Now that the money has been offered, there is no reason for you to take it back!

He immediately ordered his servants to collect the silver ingots and also served an extra pot of fine wine.

However, Li Ji had eaten and drunk quite a bit, and had devoured about 80% of the dishes—unlike Jia Huai, who was nervous and hesitant, unable to eat or drink freely even with the food in front of him. So he casually drank two more cups of wine, and then devoured all the remaining dishes, whether meat or vegetables, hot or cold. After listening to Su Su play the third pipa piece, he put down his chopsticks and stood up.

Jia Huai had been wanting to run away for a while. Given the family's expenses, he really couldn't afford to stay overnight—even though he was paying Li Ji. It didn't seem to be the time for the streets to quiet down yet. He was thinking about how to drag Li Ji to a cheap brothel to sleep in when he saw Li Ji get up, so he quickly got up as well.

The two put on their boots under the eaves and strolled towards the courtyard, but the gate remained closed, and no servants came to lead the horses. Li Ji frowned slightly, then turned around abruptly, startling Lü Miaozhen, who had just followed.

Lü Miaozhen hurriedly asked, "Where are you two gentlemen going?"

Li Ji said, "We have eaten and drunk our fill, so we should take our leave—please bring us our mounts."

Lü Miaozhen laughed and said, "Why is Li Lang in such a hurry to return..." She beckoned a maid carrying a lantern over and said, "Take Li Lang to Su Su's room."

Li Ji asked blankly, "What do you mean by this, Lady Lü? I had no intention of staying the night, and my playful antics just now were hardly worthy of your approval." He thought to himself, "You're not thinking I'm being generous, so you're planning to rip me off again, are you? While silver ingots are rare, their value probably doesn't even exceed the rewards those people just gave me..."

Oh, they are both generous and refined scholars. Could it be that this is what aroused their greed?

Lü Miaozhen moved closer and took Li Ji's arm. Li Ji felt a strong fragrance waft towards him and involuntarily shrank back slightly. He heard Lü Miaozhen whisper, "Li Lang's work is like uncut jade, perfectly natural, seemingly common yet truly elegant, beyond the comprehension of ordinary people. My Su Su, however, is different; she has indeed studied poetry under Wang Wei..."

Li Ji thought to himself, "Here we go again? Wang Wei's poetic style is not the same as Li Shen's. I don't believe that Wang Wei's disciple could agree with Li Shen's work."

"...I have already secretly decided that Li Lang will be my guest. Does Li Lang not want to? Is he worried about the cost of 'continuing the candle'? The silver ingot I just gave you is enough for the two of you tonight."

Li Ji then understood that "Ji Zhu" meant to stay overnight.

Before he could answer, Jia Huai pointed to himself and asked, "Am I involved too?"

Lü Miaozhen laughed and said, "The two gentlemen came together. Do you mean to keep only Li Lang and ask Jia Lang to return home? It's just that Su Su and Jia Lang are not destined for each other, so I will send another maid to serve Jia Lang."

Li Ji keenly noticed the words "servant"—it meant a maidservant, not a fake woman, which clearly showed that he still looked down on Jia Huai, who was dressed as a commoner.

Jia Huai stared intently at the maidservant holding a lantern and waiting nearby, drooling as he said, "This... is very good..." He then urged Li Ji, "It's rare to see such sincerity from Lady Lü and such deep affection from Su Su. Brother Li, how can you refuse? Why don't you..."

Li Ji shook his head and said, "I had no intention of doing so." He turned to leave. Jia Huai grew anxious and quickly lowered his voice, asking, "Brother Li, what are you afraid of? Have you never experienced the pleasures of a woman?"

Li Ji thought to himself, "You vulgar bastard, trying to provoke me with virgin boys again? Li Changwei has never been provoked in his life!"

Just as he was about to retort, he suddenly heard a drumbeat from the watchtower in the distance...

Chapter 49, Trial Donation and Past Disputes

The night is divided into five watches, and each watch is further divided into five points. According to custom, a curfew is imposed at 3:00 AM of the first watch (around 8:00 PM) and lifted at 3:00 AM of the fifth watch (around 4:00 AM). During this period, unless there are special reasons—such as illness, childbirth, death, etc.—neither soldiers nor civilians are allowed to walk on main roads. Otherwise, it is called "breaking the night curfew" and will be punished with flogging.

Since Li Ji transmigrated to this world, he has basically never gone out for a stroll in the city late at night, so he is not very good at judging time. He thought he could still make it back to Daningfang, but before he left Lü Miaozhen's house, he heard the sound of the evening drum from the watchtower in the distance... It seems that, let alone going back to Daningfang, even if he ran to the neighboring Chongrenfang, he would probably not make it in time.

Jia Huai was overjoyed and immediately spread his hands, saying, "This is Heaven's will to keep our guest here. Brother Li, please don't be so stubborn."

Li Ji was at a loss for what to do. He thought to himself, "Fine, then I'll go and meet that Miss Su Su from the Lü family—am I afraid she'll eat me alive? I can ask her what she thinks is so good about my poem 'Sympathy for the Peasants.' Perhaps I can expose this brothel's hypocrisy of loving talent but actually loving money."

I really hope I don't run into a talented woman who can shut me up with just a few words... But it's not that bad, I do have some talent in my own mind. As long as I don't have to compose a poem on the spot, especially one on a given topic, I'll be fine.

Having made up his mind—and having no other options, he needed to find a place to sleep—he smiled at Lü Miaozhen, then turned to the maid carrying the lantern: "Lead the way."

Jia Huai seemed to want to follow as well, but Lü Miaozhen stepped in between them and said with a smile, "Young Master Jia, please come this way." Jia Huai could only wave to Li Ji and say, "Brother Li, let's meet again at dawn."

Li Ji thought to himself, "This guy patted his chest and said he'd treat us, but he ended up spending all my money. And he even got the chance to patronize underage girls... In later years, that would be a serious crime! I'm never going out with this guy again."

He followed the maid, winding his way through the courtyard to the back. He had assumed Su Su's residence was in the courtyard, but the maid led him to the back door instead. She then handed the lantern to another maid who was already waiting there, turned around, and hurried away. The new guide didn't even look at Li Ji; she simply waved to him before pushing open the back door and walking down the main street.

—Although we left the Lü family compound, we were still within the neighborhood. Even after the streets were quieted, we could still move freely within each neighborhood. Although there were soldiers patrolling, they would not bother us unless they witnessed someone committing a crime.

The two walked south along the street, one after the other, and passed two more intersections. Li Ji couldn't help but ask, "Where are we going? How much further?" The maid didn't answer, but simply pointed ahead.

Li Ji clicked his tongue and stopped in his tracks: "Does Minister Cui also have such refined tastes that he's staying overnight in Pingkang? I wonder if he'll be able to get to his office in time tomorrow morning?"

Upon hearing this, the maid's back trembled slightly.

Li Ji thought to himself, "Stop pretending. Even though you deliberately turned your face away and refused to speak, I have a very deep impression of your back."

The maid slowly turned around, revealing half of her face in the lamplight. She glanced briefly at Li Ji—it was indeed that little girl Cui Qi—before speaking, she said, "My master has a villa in Pingkang Ward."

In the vast Pingkang Ward, only the three bends eastward inside the North Gate were the red-light district; the other bends were mostly occupied by ordinary families. Therefore, it was quite reasonable for Cui Guangyuan, the then Minister of Rites, to have a residence there. Ever since seeing through Cui Qi's disguise, Li Ji knew that she would definitely lead him to see Cui Guangyuan, which conveniently saved him from the embarrassing situation of facing that prostitute, Su Su.

Although Cui Guangyuan was considered a henchman of Li Fuguo, Li Ji wasn't really afraid that he would set a trap for him. If he had any ill intentions, he shouldn't have sent Cui Qi. That fellow had other extraordinary people or ordinary servants under his command. If it were a stranger who insisted that Susu didn't live in the Lü family's residence and that her house was quite far away, he probably wouldn't have any suspicions.

As they continued south, Li Ji assumed that Cui Guangyuan was also there to patronize prostitutes. He found him in a brothel in Nanqu, but little did he know that Cui Qi was leading him to the Cui family's villa further south.

Now that he had revealed the other party's identity, Li Ji stopped pretending and took the lantern from Cui Qi's hand. He didn't mean anything by it, but in his previous life, whether they were boyfriend and girlfriend or not, helping women carry their bags and light their way when they went out together was a habit ingrained in his bones. In the end, Li Ji didn't have any distinction between master and servant, and he never regarded Cui Qi as a servant inferior to himself.

The two then changed from leading and following each other to walking side by side, and Li Ji asked, "Why did Minister Cui summon me?"

Cui Qi shook his head: "How would I know? You should ask my lord yourself."

Li Ji then asked, "When did you find out that I had returned to the capital?"

Cui Qi didn't hide anything and replied, "You found out as soon as you entered the Sixteenth Prince's residence."

Li Ji thought to himself, "Just as I expected. I had anticipated that Li Fuguo's spies would be everywhere inside and outside the Sixteenth Prince's residence—was his 'Inspection Hall' just for show? Was it only for targeting officials and commoners, and would he easily let the imperial family go? However… Cui Guangyuan is a man of great ambition, and he habitually 'goes alone'—for example, he sent Cui Qi to infiltrate the Luoyang Imperial Palace without informing Li Fuguo before—perhaps he also has spies near the Sixteenth Prince's residence, and this summons of me might not necessarily be at Li Fuguo's behest…"

Li Ji originally thought that Li Fuguo wanted to warn him but didn't dare to confront him directly, so he sent Cui Guangyuan instead. But if it was still Cui Guangyuan acting on his own initiative, why would he want to see him? This mystery is quite worth exploring.

I asked casually, "It's been several months since we last met. How have you been?"

Cui Qi seemed surprised that Li Ji would greet him, and was slightly taken aback before nodding: "It's alright."

"But you rushed back to Chang'an immediately after we parted in Luoyang?"

Cui Qi did not answer, but instead quickened his pace.

Li Ji thought to himself, "Maybe you were ordered by Cui Guangyuan to carry out some special mission, and you dare not reveal it?" But at least you could have made some attempt to smooth things over, said a few perfunctory words, and the conversation could have continued. What kind of nonsense is this, cutting off the conversation like this? It makes it impossible for me to speak anymore; it's so awkward…

Silently, they walked several dozen steps and finally arrived at a large house. Cui Qi knocked on the side gate, led Li Ji inside, circled around twice, and arrived at a corridor. Then he reached out and snatched the lantern from Li Ji's hand, bowed to the inside and reported, "Young Master Li has arrived."

Inside the corridor was a two-story building. A middle-aged man's voice rang out from upstairs: "Please invite Li Zhiguo upstairs."

Li Ji winked at Cui Qi, as if to say, "Aren't you going to lead me in?" Cui Qi, however, didn't even look at him, simply raising his hand in a "please" gesture. Helpless, Li Ji had no choice but to take off his boots and climb onto the veranda, then enter the small building through the half-open door.

The first floor was dimly lit, with several maids sitting there. Upon seeing Li Ji enter, they all bowed and then pointed to the side. There was a wooden staircase to the side of the room. Li Ji climbed the staircase and reached the second floor, where the room instantly brightened up.

The main room upstairs had its doors wide open, revealing an elegant interior. Although there weren't many decorations, they were all clearly expensive and exquisite. Directly opposite the door were carved window frames, and to the side stood a landscape screen—it seemed there was no place to hide behind it. In front of the screen was a large couch, on which sat a man, with two maids in brocade robes kneeling and serving him below.

This was the first time Li Ji had seen Cui Guangyuan, the Minister of Rites and newly enfeoffed Duke of Ye. The man appeared to be in his forties, with refined features, a vigorous spirit, and a flowing beard. Cui Guangyuan was dressed in casual attire, wearing a black gauze square hat, a blue short-sleeved shirt, and a plain brocade half-sleeved garment. He was leaning against a couch, his right knee bent, and his right arm resting on his knee.

Frankly speaking, this kind of attire and posture is extremely impolite for entertaining guests.

But as soon as Li Ji frowned, Cui Guangyuan smiled at him and said, "I have long heard of Li Changwei's name. Today I finally meet you. You are indeed extraordinary and heroic." He patted the edge of the couch and said, "Please come up and sit down."

If he were to point to the low table beside him and order Li Ji to sit, or even make him stand while he speaks, Li Ji would immediately leap up in anger—even though our statuses are vastly different, I am still wearing a ceremonial robe, and there is no one in the world so rude! He could even leap over and punch Cui Guangyuan in the face a couple of times without fear of causing any trouble—after all, it is the other party who is in the wrong.

However, when Cui Guangyuan disregarded the difference in status and invited Li Ji to his bed, the situation changed. It went from being improper to being unrestrained by etiquette. Unrestrained means not being bound by rules, because I am close enough to you that I don't need to put on airs in front of you. Similarly, you don't need to keep the hierarchy in mind. Just do whatever makes you comfortable.

Therefore, Li Ji did not refuse and stepped into the room. He approached in a few steps and sat down directly beside the couch with his legs hanging down. Upon seeing this, Cui Guangyuan nodded slightly, then reached out and pulled over a small table from the couch, placed it between the two of them, and pointed to the table: "The drink is still warm, please eat, no need to be polite."

Then he waved to the two maids, who bowed and backed away to leave the room, closing the door behind them.

Li Ji was indeed a little thirsty, and without any ceremony, he picked up the porcelain cup and drank it all in one gulp.

The term "yinzi" originally referred to a decoction of traditional Chinese medicine, but it gradually took on a food-like form, similar to the herbal teas and health drinks of later generations. The yinzi that Cui Guangyuan bestowed upon him had almost no herbal taste and contained a large portion of goat milk, making it resemble milk tea in later generations—much tastier than real tea of ​​this era.