Twists of Misunderstanding

The physician examined Du Fu's jade pendant carefully. It was indeed a rare and precious piece, undoubtedly worth a considerable sum. Without hesitation, he agreed.

After settling Li Bai, Du Fu happened to meet Chen Yage on the street. Chen Yage was holding Qin Qin by the arm; she had chased him across three streets and five alleys before finally catching him. When Du Fu saw the pleading look in Qin Qin's eyes, he thought of Li Bai. He was now eighty percent certain that Qin Qin had stolen the silver for Li Bai's sake. Thus, he felt Qin Qin was not a bad child. Stealing was wrong, but it was understandable.

“Let him go, Yage,” Du Fu said, his face turning serious, abandoning his usual smile.

“He stole your silver,” Chen Yage protested, as if she couldn’t believe her ears. She wanted to remind Du Fu that the little rascal in his hands was no good.

“He’s only a child,” Du Fu replied, approaching Chen Yage. He rescued Qin Qin from her grasp, knelt down, and patted Qin Qin's head like an older brother. “What’s your name?”

Qin Qin looked at Du Fu in fear, but saw only genuine kindness in his eyes. Gradually, his guard lowered, though his voice was still timid. “Qin Qin.”

Du Fu smiled gently, approachable. “If you’re unwell, you need to seek treatment. There’s a medical clinic not far ahead. Let’s have a look.”

Qin Qin stared blankly at Du Fu, not quite understanding his words. But since Du Fu had let him go, he couldn’t let the opportunity slip by. He glanced nervously at Yage, then at Du Fu’s smiling face. His courage suddenly swelled, and he dashed off, disappearing at the end of the street.

“So this time you played the good guy. I help you recover your silver and become the villain. Why not be a true benefactor and give me some silver as well?” Chen Yage said in a huff, extending her hands to Du Fu. Unexpectedly, Du Fu—whose updates at Listening Tide Pavilion were always the fastest—pulled out a notebook from his robes. Chen Yage opened it and found it full of poetry, all original works by Du Fu.

Du Fu saw Chen Yage’s delight and smiled with satisfaction. “I thought you wouldn’t like poetry and verse.”

“Who says I don’t? With a turn of the hand, clouds rise; with another, rain falls. Why fuss over fleeting things? Do you not see Guan and Bao’s friendship in poverty? Yet now this path is abandoned, treated as dust.”

Chen Yage recited Du Fu’s “Song of Friendship in Poverty” with pride. Du Fu’s eyes widened. He had written the poem last year but never shared it. It was recorded only in this book, and he had not seen Chen Yage open it. He was deeply curious. “I’ve never mentioned this poem to anyone. How did you know of it?”

“Oh, I know plenty. I know astronomy above and geography below. Be it dream interpretation or astrology, I dabble in all,” Chen Yage boasted, painting herself as a moon bright enough to illuminate the whole world.

Du Fu chuckled. “If you’re so remarkable, why not divine what I’m thinking right now? If you can, I’ll believe you. If not, you must stop telling tall tales.”

Chen Yage imitated fortune-tellers from television, pinching her fingers as if calculating. It was all for show. She occasionally glanced at Du Fu, who watched her with an amused expression.

“What’s wrong? Has your magic failed? Can’t figure it out?” Du Fu teased.

Chen Yage shot him a glare, then realized she didn’t have to actually calculate anything. If she didn’t, what could he do? She decisively changed the subject. “I remember there was a man in white lying in that shabby house. Yes, a man in white. Don’t tell me he’s dead?” She feigned fear.

“Don’t jinx it. He’s alive and well, why would he be dead?”

“How do you know he’s well? Did you go in and see him? Do you know him? Who is he? Why is he with that little rascal?” Chen Yage peppered Du Fu with questions.

Du Fu saw no reason to keep anything from her and walked ahead, hands behind his back, toward the direction where Qin Qin had disappeared.

Chen Yage followed, full of questions, but she guessed Du Fu wouldn’t answer, so she kept silent, waiting for him to speak.

For the first time, Du Fu didn’t question Chen Yage, and for the first time, he walked a long way in silence. Chen Yage felt a vague unease. She resolved not to ask directly, and simply followed quietly behind him.

Du Fu led Chen Yage into the pharmacy where Li Bai was being treated. She wandered hesitantly outside the door, unsure why Du Fu had brought her here. She assumed he was there to fetch medicine, but she didn’t recall Du Fu being ill.

The physician, seeing Du Fu return, thought he had come for the jade pendant and looked at him anxiously. Du Fu perceived his worry and explained, “Don’t worry, I’m not here to reclaim the pendant. I just came to check on my friend. How is he now? Has his fever subsided?”

“Your friend? He’s ill? I never heard you mention him. Where does he live? Is he a man or a woman?”

“Does it matter whether he’s a man or a woman, or where he lives?” Du Fu countered Chen Yage’s question.

Chen Yage followed Du Fu, guided by the physician, into the back room. Du Fu entered, but Chen Yage lingered at the doorway.

“Why don’t you come in?” Du Fu turned, looking at Chen Yage leaning against the door, then glanced at Li Bai lying on the bed. He reached out to touch Li Bai’s forehead, then his own, relieved the fever had passed.

“Why should I come in? I don’t know him. How he fares has nothing to do with me. Didn’t you just say that? So quickly forgotten? Your memory is truly poor,” Chen Yage said, looking up at the sky, speaking in a huff to Du Fu, but seeing before her only the white robes of Li Bai.

“Qin Qin isn’t a bad child. He had his reasons for stealing. If not for the man on the bed suffering from a relentless fever, I believe Qin Qin wouldn’t have stolen the money,” Du Fu said, feeling a strange affection for Qin Qin, perhaps moved by that beseeching gaze.

“Stealing is wrong, no matter what the excuse. An excuse is just refusing to admit your mistake,” Chen Yage remembered clearly how, in elementary school, she broke a classmate’s marble and secretly took her mother’s money to buy a replacement. She was soundly scolded by her parents, and her father said meaningfully, “No matter what, stealing is wrong. Excuses are just a refusal to admit your fault. If you don’t repent, you’ve never truly recognized your mistake.”

Since then, Chen Yage never took things without permission, nor did she make excuses for her own misdeeds. When wrong, one must bear responsibility; excuses only lead to repeated mistakes.