another high-ranking official sent forward his name as a 'distinguished scholarof exceptional merit', Lu realized that his continued refusal would be construedby the Court as an open slight, with fatal consequences for himself and perhapshisfamily.Accordinglyhehadhad himselftonsured(thoughnotinfact withany intention of becoming a real monk), whereupon the Government officialswere finally convinced of his determination and ceased urging him to come outofhisretirement.Gu Yanwu's enthusiasm for Lu's somewhat pedestrian couplet sprang from thefact that it contained a hidden message. In Chinese the word for 'cool' is qing(the word chosen by the Manchus for their new 'Chinese' dynasty) and theword forbright' is ming (the name of the old Chinese dynasty they hadsupplanted). So the couplet Gu had recited could be understood to mean:The Qing wind sways not me, how e'er it blow; For me the Ming moon stillshines everywhere.In other words, 'I will never bow to the Manchus, however they may threatenand cajole.Formethe Empireis still theMingEmpire,whoseloyal subjectIremain. Although the poem in which these lines occurred could not bepublished, they were familiar to all the like-minded scholars of Lu's wideacquaintance, and Huang, hearing them recited now by Gu, responded to thechallenge by raising a wine-cup in homage.'Yes, it is a very good poem,' he said, and drained it off at a gulp.Thank you both, but it doesn't deserve your praise,' said Lu Liuliang.Chancing to glance upwards at that moment, Gu Yanwu found his attentioncaught by a large painting which was hanging on one of the walls. It must havemeasurednearenoughfourfeetfromtoptobottomandwell overthreeyardshorizontally. It was a landscape, so magnificently conceived and boldlyexecuted that he could not forbear a cry of admiration. The sole inscription onthis enormous painting was the phrase This Lovely Land' written in very largecharacters atthetop.'From thebrushworkI should saythis mustbeErzhan's work,'he said.'You are absolutely right, said Lu.This Erzhan's real name was Zha Shibiao. He was a well-known painter in the late Ming, early Manchu period and a good friend of thethree men present
another high-ranking official sent forward his name as a 'distinguished scholar of exceptional merit', Lu realized that his continued refusal would be construed by the Court as an open slight, with fatal consequences for himself and perhaps his family. Accordingly he had had himself tonsured (though not in fact with any intention of becoming a real monk), whereupon the Government officials were finally convinced of his determination and ceased urging him to come out of his retirement. Gu Yanwu's enthusiasm for Lu's somewhat pedestrian couplet sprang from the fact that it contained a hidden message. In Chinese the word for 'cool' is qing (the word chosen by the Manchus for their new 'Chinese' dynasty) and the word for 'bright' is ming (the name of the old Chinese dynasty they had supplanted). So the couplet Gu had recited could be understood to mean: The Qing wind sways not me, how e'er it blow; For me the Ming moon still shines everywhere. In other words, 'I will never bow to the Manchus, however they may threaten and cajole. For me the Empire is still the Ming Empire, whose loyal subject I remain.' Although the poem in which these lines occurred could not be published, they were familiar to all the like-minded scholars of Lu's wide acquaintance, and Huang, hearing them recited now by Gu, responded to the challenge by raising a wine-cup in homage. 'Yes, it is a very good poem,' he said, and drained it off at a gulp. Thank you both, but it doesn't deserve your praise,' said Lu Liuliang. Chancing to glance upwards at that moment, Gu Yanwu found his attention caught by a large painting which was hanging on one of the walls. It must have measured near enough four feet from top to bottom and well over three yards horizontally. It was a landscape, so magnificently conceived and boldly executed that he could not forbear a cry of admiration. The sole inscription on this enormous painting was the phrase This Lovely Land' written in very large characters at the top. 'From the brushwork I should say this must be Erzhan's work,' he said. 'You are absolutely right,' said Lu. This Erzhan's real name was Zha Shibiao. He was a wellknown painter in the late Ming, early Manchu period and a good friend of the three men present
'How is it thatsofine a paintinglacks a signature?'saidHuang.Lu sighed. The painting had a message, 'he said. 'But you know what a stolidcareful person Erzhan is. He wouldn't sign it and he wouldn't write anyinscription.He painted it forme on a sudden impulse when he was stayingwith meamonth or so ago.Whydon't youtwo write afewlines on it?Gu and Huang got up and went over to examine the painting more closely. Itwas a picture of the Yangtze, the Great River, rolling majestically eastwardsbetween innumerablepeaks,with a suitablegarnishingof gnarled pines andstrange misshapenrocks:a very beautiful landscapewere it not for theall-pervading mist and cloud which seemed calculated to create an oppressivefeeling of gloom in anyone looking at it.Thislovelyland undertheheelofthebarbarian!'saidGuYanwu.And wehaveto swallow our humiliation and go on living in it. It makes my blood boil. Whydon't you do an inscription, Liuliang-a poem that will give voice to whatErzhan had in mind to say?''Very well, said Lu Liuliang, and he took the huge scroll carefully down fromthewall and spread it out onthe desk,whileHuangZongxi setabout grindinghim some ink.Hepicked up a writing-brush and for some minutes could beobserved muttering to himself in the throes of composition; then, writingstraight on to the painting and with pauses only for moistening the brush, hequickly completed the following poem:Is this the sane of Great Song's south retreat,This lovely land that hides its face in shame?Or is it after Mount Yai's fateful leap?This lovelyland then scarce dared breathe its nameNow that I seem to read the painter's mind,My bitter teardrops match his drizzling rain.Past woes I see reborn in present time:This draws the groans that no gag can restrain
'How is it that so fine a painting lacks a signature?' said Huang. Lu sighed. The painting had a message, ' he said. 'But you know what a stolid, careful person Erzhan is. He wouldn't sign it and he wouldn't write any inscription. He painted it for me on a sudden impulse when he was staying with me a month or so ago. Why don't you two write a few lines on it?' Gu and Huang got up and went over to examine the painting more closely. It was a picture of the Yangtze, the Great River, rolling majestically eastwards between innumerable peaks, with a suitable garnishing of gnarled pines and strange misshapen rocks: a very beautiful landscape were it not for the all-pervading mist and cloud which seemed calculated to create an oppressive feeling of gloom in anyone looking at it. This lovely land under the heel of the barbarian!' said Gu Yanwu. 'And we have to swallow our humiliation and go on living in it. It makes my blood boil. Why don't you do an inscription, Liuliang—a poem that will give voice to what Erzhan had in mind to say?' 'Very well,' said Lu Liuliang, and he took the huge scroll carefully down from the wall and spread it out on the desk, while Huang Zongxi set about grinding him some ink. He picked up a writing-brush and for some minutes could be observed muttering to himself in the throes of composition; then, writing straight on to the painting and with pauses only for moistening the brush, he quickly completed the following poem: Is this the sane of Great Song's south retreat, This lovely land that hides its face in shame? Or is it after Mount Yai's fateful leap? This lovely land then scarce dared breathe its name. Now that I seem to read the painter's mind, My bitter teardrops match his drizzling rain. Past woes I see reborn in present time: This draws the groans that no gag can restrain
Methinks the painter used poor Gaoyu's tearsTo mixhis colours and his brush towet'This Lovely Land'was commentary enough;No need was there for other wordsto fret.Theblind would see, the lame would walk again,Could we but bring, back Hong Wu's glorious days. With what wild joy we'dlookdown fromeach height And see thelandscapefreeofmistandhaze!*He threwthe brush on the floor as he finished and burst into tears.'It says all there is to say,'said Gu Yanwu. Masterly!''It lacks subtlety, ' said Lu. 'In no way could you call it a good poem. I merelywanted to put Erzhan's original idea into writing so that anyone looking at thepicture in days to come will know what it is about.''When China does eventually emerge from this time of darkness, ' said Huang,'we shall indeed "see the landscape free of mist and haze". When that timecomes, we shall gaze at even the poorest, meanest, most barren landscape witha feeling of joyful liberation. Then, indeed, we shall look down with "wild joy ..from each height"!Your conclusion is excellent,'said Gu.'when wedoeventuallyrid our countryof this foreign scum, the feeling of relief will be infinitely greater than thesomewhat arid satisfaction we get from occasionally uncorking our feelings aswedonow.'Huang carefully rolled up the painting.You won't be able to hang this up any more now, Liuliang, ' he said. 'You'dbetter put it away somewhere safe. If some evil-intentioned person like WuZhirong were to set eyes on it, you'd soon have the authorities round askingquestions and the consequences could be serious not only for you but probablyfor Erzhan as well.:That vermin Wu Zhirong!' said Gu Yanwu, smiting the desk with his hand. 'could willingly tear his flesh with my teeth!
Methinks the painter used poor Gaoyu's tears To mix his colours and his brush to wet. 'This Lovely Land' was commentary enough; No need was there for other words to fret. The blind would see, the lame would walk again, Could we but bring, back Hong Wu's glorious days. With what wild joy we'd look down from each height And see the landscape free of mist and haze!* He threw the brush on the floor as he finished and burst into tears. 'It says all there is to say, ' said Gu Yanwu. 'Masterly!' 'It lacks subtlety, ' said Lu. 'In no way could you call it a good poem. I merely wanted to put Erzhan's original idea into writing so that anyone looking at the picture in days to come will know what it is about.' 'When China does eventually emerge from this time of darkness, ' said Huang, 'we shall indeed "see the landscape free of mist and haze". When that time comes, we shall gaze at even the poorest, meanest, most barren landscape with a feeling of joyful liberation. Then, indeed, we shall look down with "wild joy . . . from each height"!' 'Your conclusion is excellent, ' said Gu. 'When we do eventually rid our country of this foreign scum, the feeling of relief will be infinitely greater than the somewhat arid satisfaction we get from occasionally uncorking our feelings as we do now.' Huang carefully rolled up the painting. 'You won't be able to hang this up any more now, Liuliang, ' he said. 'You'd better put it away somewhere safe. If some evil-intentioned person like Wu Zhirong were to set eyes on it, you'd soon have the authorities round asking questions and the consequences could be serious not only for you but probably for Erzhan as well.' That vermin Wu Zhirong!' said Gu Yanwu, smiting the desk with his hand. 'I could willingly tear his flesh with my teeth!
'You said when you came that you had something serious to discuss with me,said Lu, 'yet here we are, like typical scholars, frit-* Note to Reader:Lu's impromptu poem is full of politically dangerous allusions to the shame ofoccupation by the Tartars (both Mongol and Manchu).Thefirst lines refer tothe thirteenth century and the dying days of the Southern Song dynasty, whenthe last Emperor, carrying his infant son, was hounded southwards by theMongols, and finally flung himself and his son into me sea from the cliffs ofMount Yai. Hong Wu (towards the end of the poem) was the reign tide of aperiod during the heyday of the Ming dynasty (when China was still ruled byChinese),'to which these Loyalist scholars looked back with such nostalgia.taring our time away on poetry and painting instead of attending to business.What was it, exactly, that brought you here?''It has to do with Erzhan's kinsman Yihuang, ' said Huang. The day beforeyesterday Gu and Ilearned that he has now been named in connection with theMing History affair.Yihuang?'said Lu. You mean he's been dragged into ittoo?''I'm afraid so,'said Huang.'As soon as we heard, the two ofus hurried as quickly as we could to his home in Yuanhua Town, but he wasn'tthere. They said he'd gone off to visit a friend. In view of the urgency, Yanwuadvised the family to make their getaway as soon as it was dark. Thenremembering that Yihuang was a good friend of yours, we thought we'd comeand look forhim here,''No,'said Lu, 'no, he's not here. I don't know where he canhave gone.''Ifhehadbeenhere,hewouldhaveshownhimselfbynow,'saidGu.'Ileftapoem for him on his studywall. If he goes back home,he will understand whenhe reads the poem that he is to go and hide. What I'm afraid of, though, is thathe may not have heard the news yet and may expose himself unnecessarilyoutside and get himself arrested. That would be terrible
'You said when you came that you had something serious to discuss with me, ' said Lu, 'yet here we are, like typical scholars, frit- * Note to Reader: Lu's impromptu poem is full of politically dangerous allusions to the shame of occupation by the Tartars (both Mongol and Manchu). The first lines refer to the thirteenth century and the dying days of the Southern Song dynasty, when the last Emperor, carrying his infant son, was hounded southwards by the Mongols, and finally flung himself and his son into me sea from the cliffs of Mount Yai. Hong Wu (towards the end of the poem) was the reign tide of a period during the heyday of the Ming dynasty (when China was still ruled by Chinese),'to which these Loyalist scholars looked back with such nostalgia. taring our time away on poetry and painting instead of attending to business. What was it, exactly, that brought you here?' 'It has to do with Erzhan's kinsman Yihuang, ' said Huang. The day before yesterday Gu and I learned that he has now been named in connection with the Ming History affair.' 'Yihuang?' said Lu. 'You mean he's been dragged into it too?' 'I'm afraid so, ' said Huang. 'As soon as we heard, the two of us hurried as quickly as we could to his home in Yuanhua Town, but he wasn't there. They said he'd gone off to visit a friend. In view of the urgency, Yanwu advised the family to make their getaway as soon as it was dark. Then, remembering that Yihuang was a good friend of yours, we thought we'd come and look for him here, ' 'No, ' said Lu, 'no, he's not here. I don't know where he can have gone.' 'If he had been here, he would have shown himself by now, ' said Gu. 'I left a poem for him on his study wall. If he goes back home, he will understand when he reads the poem that he is to go and hide. What I'm afraid of, though, is that he may not have heard the news yet and may expose himself unnecessarily outside and get himself arrested. That would be terrible,
'Practically every scholar in West Zhejiang has fallen victim to this wretchedMing History business, ' said Huang. The Manchu Court has obviously got it infor us. You are too well known. Gu and I both think that you ought to leavehere-for the time being, at any rate.Find somewhere awayfrom here whereyou can shelter from the storm,'Lu Liulianglooked angry.'Let the Tartar Emperor haveme arrested and carried off to Peking! he said.'IfI could curse him to his face and get rid of some of the anger that is pent upinside me, I think I should die happy, even though it meant having the flesh cutslice by slice from mybones!''I admire your heroic spirit, ' said Gu, "but I don't think there's much likelihoodof your meeting the Tartar Emperorface to face. You would the at the hands ofmiserable slaves. Besides, the Tartar Emperor is still a child who knowsnothing about anything. The Government is in the hands of the all-powerfulminister Oboi. Huang and I are both of the opinion that Oboi is at the back ofthis Ming History affair. The reason they are making such a song anddance about it and pursuing it with such ferocity is that he sees in it a means ofbreakingthe spirit of the Southern gentry''T'm sure you are right,' said Lu.'when the Manchu troops first came inside theWall, they had pretty much of a free run in the whole of Northern China. Itwasn't till they came south that they found themselves running into resistanceeverywhere. The scholars in particular, as guardians of Chinese culture, havegiven them endless trouble. So Oboi is using this business to crush theSouthern gentry, is he? Humph! What does the poet say?The bush fire cannot burn them outFor nextyear'sspringwill seethem sprout.-Unless, that is, he plans to wipe out the lot of us!''Quite,'said Huang.'Ifwearetocarryon the struggleagainstthe Tartars, we need anyone who can be of use to stayalive.Indulging in heroics at this juncture might be satisfying, but would
'Practically every scholar in West Zhejiang has fallen victim to this wretched Ming History business, ' said Huang. The Manchu Court has obviously got it in for us. You are too well known. Gu and I both think that you ought to leave here—for the time being, at any rate. Find somewhere away from here where you can shelter from the storm, ' Lu Liuliang looked angry. 'Let the Tartar Emperor have me arrested and carried off to Peking!' he said. 'If I could curse him to his face and get rid of some of the anger that is pent up inside me, I think I should die happy, even though it meant having the flesh cut slice by slice from my bones!' 'I admire your heroic spirit, ' said Gu, 'but I don't think there's much likelihood of your meeting the Tartar Emperor face to face. You would the at the hands of miserable slaves. Besides, the Tartar Emperor is still a child who knows nothing about anything. The Government is in the hands of the all-powerful minister Oboi. Huang and I are both of the opinion that Oboi is at the back of this Ming History affair. The reason they are making such a song and dance about it and pursuing it with such ferocity is that he sees in it a means of breaking the spirit of the Southern gentry.' 'I'm sure you are right,' said Lu. 'When the Manchu troops first came inside the Wall, they had pretty much of a free run in the whole of Northern China. It wasn't till they came south that they found themselves running into resistance everywhere. The scholars in particular, as guardians of Chinese culture, have given them endless trouble. So Oboi is using this business to crush the Southern gentry, is he? Humph! What does the poet say? The bush fire cannot burn them out For next year's spring will see them sprout. —Unless, that is, he plans to wipe out the lot of us!' 'Quite,' said Huang. 'If we are to carry on the struggle against the Tartars, we need anyone who can be of use to stay alive. Indulging in heroics at this juncture might be satisfying, but would