Chapter 14: Du Fu Was Very Poor

Lu Hu understood, turned and took out two gold ingots from his pack, offering them to Du Fu with both hands. He wore a smile, yet Li Zaixing clearly sensed the twitch at the corner of his eye.

Upon seeing Lu Hu’s expression, Li Zaixing immediately realized: he had given too much.

Li Zaixing originally had no money; all the wealth he possessed now was plundered from Wei Yingwu and his companions. He had about fourteen or fifteen such gold ingots, along with a handful of loose copper coins. He had no idea how much a single gold ingot was worth, but it certainly wasn’t trivial. Along the way, he had followed Li Bi, freeloading meals—a poor meal cost about ten coins, a good one perhaps a hundred or so for wine and meat. Two gold ingots should be enough for Du Fu’s family to eat for some time. It wouldn’t look good to give just a pile of copper coins at their first meeting, especially since he was borrowing Li Bai’s name. Too little would seem insincere, so he simply gave two gold ingots.

But seeing Lu Hu’s pained expression, Li Zaixing knew that not only was it not too little, it was far too much—even Lu Hu felt the sting.

However, Li Zaixing felt no regret. The money was stolen anyway; giving it to Du Fu was, in a way, accumulating good karma.

Lu Hu’s face was expressive, but Du Fu’s was even more so. Holding the gold ingots, he was nearly moved to tears.

“Brother Taibai is truly chivalrous and passionate, thinking of me from a thousand miles away,” Du Fu sniffed, bowed toward the southeast, “Many thanks to Brother Taibai, many thanks indeed.” He then turned and bowed to Li Zaixing, “Thank you... By the way, may I ask your esteemed name?”

Li Zaixing couldn’t help but smile, thinking that this poet sage was truly impoverished to the point of distraction, only now remembering to ask his name.

“I am Li Zaixing, a close friend of the Banished Immortal, a friendship that transcends generations. If you don’t mind, you may call me little brother.”

“Since Brother Taibai and you are such friends, I shall follow suit,” Du Fu said gratefully. “May I ask, little brother, what is your family rank?”

Li Zaixing shrugged, “I was raised by my master. I do not know my parents or siblings, nor my rank. At present, I am alone—if I eat my fill, my whole family does not go hungry.”

Du Fu stifled a laugh, then felt it might be disrespectful and looked at Li Zaixing awkwardly, saying, “Little brother, please wait while I instruct my wife to prepare some tea and food to welcome you.”

Li Zaixing nodded, “Very well, I’ll tidy up, wash my face, and then come to greet your wife and chat with you.”

Du Fu answered repeatedly, and Li Zaixing withdrew to his own room. As soon as he entered, Lu Hu dropped his smile and stood respectfully to the side. Li Zaixing understood, “Too much?”

“Master, do you know how much a gold ingot is worth?”

“How much?”

“One gold ingot is ten taels, worth sixty strings of cash; two ingots, one hundred and twenty strings.”

Li Zaixing inhaled sharply, “That much?”

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“What did you think?” Lu Hu realized his slip as soon as he spoke, raised his hand, and slapped himself, bowing his head. “Master, I spoke out of turn. Please punish me.”

Li Zaixing waved it off, not taking offense. That a single gold ingot was worth sixty strings of copper coins surprised him. In these times, one coin was roughly equivalent to a yuan in later generations, a string was a thousand coins, sixty strings was sixty thousand, two gold ingots was one hundred and twenty thousand. A gift of one hundred and twenty thousand as a meeting present was indeed extravagant—no wonder Lu Hu was reluctant.

But he soon thought of another issue. He had plundered fourteen or fifteen gold ingots from Wei Yingwu’s group—nearly a million? Damn, nearly a million in pocket money; those kids were truly wealthy. Next time he met them, he must rob them again.

“How much does one hundred and twenty strings buy?” Li Zaixing pressed.

“If the two of us were not living in the temple but renting outside, monthly rent would be five hundred to a thousand coins. Each person consumes two sheng of grain per day, twelve dou per month; at current prices, that’s one hundred and eighty coins. Add other expenses, frugally two strings per month would suffice. Te Le Biao eats much, roughly equal to ten people, but it only needs feed, no other expenses—another two strings would be enough. Thus, for life in Chang’an, four strings per month are enough. Their family, two or three adults, a child, no horse, only a thin donkey, expenses are few; three strings per month suffice—one hundred and twenty strings would last them over three years.”

After Lu Hu finished his calculations, Li Zaixing finally understood how much two gold ingots were worth and why Du Fu had been so moved, even thanking Li Bai from afar. Seeing Lu Hu’s aggrieved face, he comforted him, “It’s fine, there’s still plenty left. What’s done is done.”

“This time it was unexpected wealth, Master. You haven’t found a livelihood yet—shouldn’t you be more prudent?”

Li Zaixing blinked, “Don’t worry, I’ll find money.”

Lu Hu pursed his lips, thinking, You’ll just rob again.

...

After about half an hour, a little servant named A Duan, much like Lu Hu, came to invite Li Zaixing to eat. Li Zaixing was astonished—Du Fu was so poor he could barely keep his trousers, yet he had servants? Seeing Li Zaixing’s surprise, Lu Hu explained that though Du Fu was poor, his family was prominent, and he aspired to officialdom. He could hardly travel without a retinue. This was Chang’an, with its customs; anyone wishing to stand out must follow the rules—proper display was essential.

Li Zaixing then understood: Li Bi had Lu Hu follow him not just as a guide or to lead a horse; for people of status, even in poverty, a servant was needed for chores. Doing everything oneself was for those without prospects.

Li Zaixing once again lamented the evils of feudal society, and followed the little servant A Duan. Du Fu had prepared a meal—not lavish, just a few bowls of vegetables and a pot of millet rice. Yet his son, Du Zongwen, was so hungry he was nearly drooling, gazing eagerly at the entering Li Zaixing, hoping he would sit and start eating.

Du Fu was apologetic, “Little brother, time was short—I couldn’t procure wine or meat, so we must make do.”

Li Zaixing laughed, waving his hand, “This is a temple, a place for monks to cultivate. We’d best not drink or eat meat, lest we anger the Buddha.” He sniffed, exaggerating slightly, “Is this meal prepared by your wife? Though simple, its aroma is enticing—it makes one’s appetite soar.”

Du Fu smiled with a trace of pride, “To be honest, my wife hails from the Hong and Yang families, daughter of the Assistant Minister of Agriculture. Marrying me was a real sacrifice.” He called, “Wife, Brother Li is favored by Taibai, no ordinary man. Today he’s helped us out, and will be a neighbor—come and meet him.”

After a moment’s silence, a young woman with a rounded belly came out, bowed at the door, “I am Yang, may I ask if Mr. Li is well?”

Li Zaixing hurried to return the courtesy, understanding the etiquette.

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“Thank you, sister-in-law, for your concern. I am deeply grateful for your generous hospitality.”

“My skills are meager—please forgive me,” Yang replied with a gentle smile and withdrew.

Li Zaixing sat down, giving Du Fu a thumbs up, “Brother Du, your wife is virtuous—a blessing for you. But marrying you is her blessing as well.”

“Sigh, little brother, you flatter me. I have nothing now, forced to live in a temple, unable to provide for my wife and child—a real hardship for her. Where is the blessing?”

“Not so.” Li Zaixing shook his head earnestly. “Brother Du, you are a late bloomer and a great poet. Your name will be immortalized in history—sister-in-law’s hardships now will surely be rewarded in time.”

Du Fu glanced at Li Zaixing, forced a bitter smile, “Thank you for your encouragement, little brother, but I am somewhat discouraged.”

“Why?”

Du Fu lifted his rice bowl, offering it, “Little brother, though Bodhi Temple is small, it has much to see. You’re new here, so I’ll volunteer as your guide after the meal—shall we?”

Li Zaixing did not understand, but did not press the matter, and picked up his bowl to eat. As soon as they began, Du Zongwen grabbed his bowl, nearly burying his face in it, chewing furiously. In moments, he finished the rice, even licking the bowl clean.

Du Fu was embarrassed, face darkening as he scolded, “Zongwen, what did your father tell you?”

Du Zongwen looked up pitifully, “Father, I’m hungry.”

Du Fu hesitated, then sighed deeply. Li Zaixing smoothed things over, “Brother Du, it’s fine—children are naturally so. My master always said that Buddhism cultivates innocence: eat when hungry, sleep when tired—that is true nature. Zongwen, are you full? If not, eat more—just don’t eat too quickly, it’s bad for your health.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” Du Zongwen replied, clutching his bowl, and dashed off to the kitchen. Li Zaixing saw this and felt a pang of sorrow. Du Fu, immortalized in later generations, was so impoverished, while scions like Wei Yingwu could parade with tens or hundreds of thousands of coins, fighting and carousing at will.

History is not for the faint-hearted.

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