Yu bows before you. I trust Father and Mother are both in good health. As the twelfth month draws near, I ima…
Yu bows before you. I trust Father and Mother are both in good health.
As the twelfth month draws near, I imagine the mountain paths must soon be covered in frost and ice, slick with mud and hard to walk. Mother, whenever you go to Yao Guang Pool to observe the stars and chart their courses, you never seem willing to miss a day. I only beg you to remember to dress warmly and not let the cold sink into your bones.
Mother always said the mountain boots I made before were too troublesome, and seldom wore them. Now that you are both growing older, and I am a thousand miles away with no way to attend on you, I can only hope those boots may still be of some use. Mother is quick to act, and if she takes a notion to go out, she will do so whether she is ready or not. Father, I ask that you stand firm and stop her when you must. In this one matter, you must not yield.
Though far from home, I too spend my days at the academy observing the heavens and drawing star charts. I often think of the four of us wandering together in years past. Beneath the River of Stars, once our charts were finished, we would play verse games. Now we are scattered, and such games can no longer be played. It leaves me full of longing.
The food and drink beyond the mountain are plentiful enough, though they soon grow dull. There are all manner of noodles here, Lily Bulb Noodles, Radish Noodles, Fresh Fish Noodles, Chicken Noodles, and many more besides. The wines too are many, River All Red, Spring's Sip, Parting Tears, and countless others. Yet they are only fresh at first. After three or five tastings, one quickly tires of them. None can compare with Father's home-cooked dishes, nor with Mother's Sweet Slumber.
In the past, I was forever finding fault with the food and drink at home, quick with some careless remark, always thinking there was room for improvement. Only now do I understand that the meals of home may be eaten a thousand times, ten thousand times, and still never lose their savor.
And now that I think on it, several years have passed in the blink of an eye since I left home. For several years now, I have not tasted a meal from home, nor drunk a cup of wine brewed at home.
Yet life at the academy has its own pleasures.
Xu'er and I came here in the name of teaching, yet in truth we have gained much ourselves. There are many truly learned people here. Trade and farming, histories and classics, all may be discussed, and with great delight. Just the other day, Xu'er came to know several disciples of Lone Cloud, all highly skilled in mathematics. I had meant only to exchange a few thoughts on celestial calculation, yet somehow I found myself drawn into one of their debates, on how the weight of feeling between a man and a woman might be measured. I could not bear to treat what lies between Xu'er and me as though it were some cold thing to be weighed and reckoned, so I said nothing. Yet by saying nothing, I was somehow judged the victor, and rewarded with no small number of mathematical texts.
There are many more such amusing incidents, too many to set down one by one.
Only after leaving the mountain and coming here have I truly understood how vast Heaven and Earth are, and how small a single person is within them. It is like a mayfly gazing upon the sea, no different from when, as a child, I lay in the courtyard in the evening cool and counted the stars.
Ah, but the River of Stars alone remains unchanged. Though we are far apart, we may still look up at the same sky. Is that not some comfort?
And when one day we are together again, we may compare which chart was drawn at what time, set them side by side, and speak of the longing of these years apart. Would that not be a joy?
This sheet is small, and household trifles too many to tell in full. When the day comes that we are reunited, I shall sit with you by candlelight and tell you everything.