Along the River (19 page)

“What are they doing, Gege?”

“They’re going to practice the
san jue
(three perfections) together: painting, calligraphy and poetry. Each will create an image or a verse to match and bedazzle the rest. Shhh! Quiet now! I want to hear what they’re saying.”

“I hear His Majesty wants to encourage the arts,” says a balding, middle-aged man with a heavy beard and mustache.

“That’s Vice Director Liang of the Ministry of Personnel,” Gege whispers, and I marvel at his remembering all their names and positions.

“They say His Majesty aspires to be a latter-day sage-king, like King Yu the Great of the Xia Dynasty, three thousand years ago,” Baba says with reverence.

“His Majesty is interested in many projects,” an elderly man with a long sparse beard and high, squeaky voice replies. Gege nudges me excitedly and reminds me that I’ve seen him before. He’s the famous Tong Guan, part Palace eunuch, part military general.

“Tell us more,” Commissioner Ye says eagerly to Tong Guan. “You are the only one who lives in the Palace with His Majesty, therefore you probably know the most about Him.”

“His Majesty will soon create a special Advisory Office to make changes,” Tong Guan announces.

“What changes?” Baba asks.

“His Majesty intends to establish schools throughout the country to give more children an education, so they can compete in the Imperial Examinations. He also wishes to build public hospitals and cemeteries for the poor.”

“How will He pay for all these benefits?”

“His Majesty will impose a special tax on salt and on tea. Any merchant selling salt or tea will have to pay this tax.”

“Great changes!” Baba says approvingly.

“His Majesty was only seventeen when He came to the throne four years ago,” Tong Guan says. “At that time I was already forty-six years old, having served first the Sixth and then the Seventh Emperor in the Palace before they died. The Eighth Emperor is entirely different from His father and older brother. Being a younger son, He never expected to be Emperor, so He learned to paint from an early age. He loves music, calligraphy, painting and poetry and has a passion for rocks. He recently founded China’s first
Han Lin Hua Yuan
(Royal Academy of Art) and plans to make drawing one of the compulsory tests for the Imperial Examination. He says painting and writing have different names but possess the same body. I predict that, under His reign, artists will play a major role in the government.”

“Is it true that His Majesty is planning to build a grand pleasure park full of precious rocks and rare plants?” Commissioner Ye asks.

“His Majesty loves rocks, especially odd-shaped ones,” Tong Guan replies. “He has commissioned the famous architect Li Jie
to design a special garden to be named Genyue
The centerpiece of this new garden will be an artificial hill the height of twenty men. A waterfall will cascade down the mountain and drain into a pool full of rare stones, goldfish, geese and ducks. Monkeys and deer will roam freely among the trees and flowers.”

“We need to recruit as many talented artisans as possible to help create the Emperor’s vision,” Liang remarks.

“What about that barbarian boy-sculptor of yours?” Tong Guan says to Baba suddenly. “The one who carved that jade dog for His Majesty’s birthday. Is he still working for you?”

“Yes, he is.”

“What’s his name again? I’ve forgotten.”

“He used to call himself Li, based on his father’s barbarian birth name, Levy. You may remember His Majesty granting him the use of the imperial surname, so nowadays we call him Ah Zhao.”

“He might be a suitable candidate for you,” Tong Guan says to Liang.

“Would you mind if I hired him away from you, to work in my Ministry of Personnel?” Liang asks Baba.

“It’s entirely up to Ah Zhao… He’s young and his whole life is ahead of him. He’s free to consider offers and make his own decisions for his future.”

“Does he have any relatives? Parents? Siblings? Wife?” Liang asks.

“No one. The boy is an orphan.”

“Does he like working with rocks?”

“There’s nothing he enjoys better than hacking into a mountain with hammer and chisel. I’m constantly being surprised by his prowess. He’s capable of cutting, carving and polishing the hardest granite or jade into sculptures of the utmost beauty and poetic suggestion.”

“Well, let’s take a look at the boy now,” Liang says to Baba. “Artisans who know how to work with rocks are hard to find.”

Baba claps his hands to send for Ah Zhao.

Gege looks at me with a sober expression. “This meeting may change Ah Zhao’s future,” he says. “I hope he doesn’t mess it up.”

“Ah Zhao always knows what to say,” I retort, and my stomach ties itself in a knot at the thought of Ah Zhao leaving us.

Ah Zhao enters the courtyard behind Ah Wang with his head bowed and his shoulders bent. He falls to his knees in front of Baba and touches his head to the ground three times.

“Old Master Zhang!” he says. “How lucky I am! I was begging Ah Wang for a chance to see you. He refused, but to my surprise, you sent for me! Thank you.”

“Why did you want to see me?” Baba asks.

“I wanted to express my gratitude to you for the many kindnesses you have shown me. Your two precious children commissioned me to do a painting of a dragon for your birthday. I spent many months trying to render the image of a fantastic beast onto paper, but finally I gave up on the dragon. Instead, I decided on this simple sketch of a dragon-shaped rock painted on silk, which I now present to you. I hope it will please you.”

He kowtows again before presenting a small oblong box he is holding in both hands. Baba opens the box and takes out a silk painting rolled into a scroll, twice as long as it is wide. As he lays down Ah Zhao’s birthday gift and slowly unrolls it, a collective gasp escapes the lips of the men round the table.

Instead of the frightening beast he has been painting, Ah Zhao has drawn a single black rock. We are too far away to see the image in detail, but it must be amazing because all of Baba’s friends are speechless with admiration. They clap their hands in spontaneous applause. Many call for wine, to drink a toast to the young artist. They point out to one another the rock’s jagged profile jutting proudly against the brown silk background; the perforations in the stone captured by many ink washes, patiently applied, tone on tone; the subtle patterns of the rock’s dark and light surfaces; and the sprig of hardy green leaves sprouting delicately from the hollows.

“Did you give this painting a name?” Baba finally asks.

“Your worthless servant was thinking of calling it
Dragon Rock,”
Ah Zhao replies, still kneeling.

“Excellent name!” Commissioner Ye says. “I see you have left space for an inscription on the left side of the rock. Why don’t you stand up, come to the table and write a dedication to Magistrate Zhang. We’ll help you compose a suitable verse.”

“I am illiterate, Your Honor,” Ah Zhao says humbly.

“I know His Majesty’s likes and dislikes,” Tong Guan suddenly interrupts. “I think He will be very impressed by this painting. I suggest I take it with me when I go back to the Palace tonight. In the morning, I’ll ask His Majesty to write a few words in His distinctive
shou jin
(slender gold calligraphy). That would really make this painting famous and immortal!”

“Will you do that for me?” Baba asks, his eyes shining.

“Of course!” Tong Guan says. “One more question, Ah Zhao. Did this painting come from your imagination or were you inspired by a particular rock?”

“Your Honor, I came across this particular stone lying by itself in the ravine at the back of my master’s house one year ago. I thought it was special, and would visit it from time to time. It seems to be related to the earth from which it sprang and yet it stands alone. By painting it, I meant to release its spirit and set it free. I’m so glad everyone likes my painting.”

“Why do you like rocks?” Liang asks.

“Rocks are full of meaning, don’t you think? They are direct links to the essence of who we are. I love to work on pieces of stone with hammer and chisel. When I tap on a rock, I hear an echo and it reminds me of who I am.”

Liang nods his head, and I know he is impressed, as is everyone else.

“You may go now, Ah Zhao,” Baba says after a while. “Thank you for your birthday gift. You have done a wonderful painting. I like it very much.”

“One more thing before you go,” Tong Guan adds. “How big is this piece of rock on which your painting is based?”

“It’s big. About
ba chi
(over eight feet) tall and
liu chi
(over six feet) wide.”