Along the River by Adeline Yen Mah

career.
    At the university, he makes a new friend. Cai Youis eight years older than Gege and gifted in music. He teaches Gege to sing, compose songs and play the qin , a zither consisting of a wood frame and seven strings of twisted silk. Gege asks me for help in writing the lyrics. I do so gladly because a song is really a poem set to music, and I love writing poetry. I’m thrilled to hear my words being sung loudly, by my brother, for everyone to hear.
    Gege shows Cai You my lyrics and he’s delighted. Cai’s father, the newly appointed Prime Minister Cai Jing, persuades Emperor Huizong to create a special Da Cheng Yue Fu (Bureau of Music of Great Brilliance). It includes a Wan Qin Lo (Pavilion of Ten Thousand Zithers) and is staffed by one Da Si Yue (Musician-in-Chief), two Dian Yue (Music Managers), one Da Yue Ling (Music Officer), four Xie Lu Lang (Composers) and two hundred performers and dancers.
    Huizong announces that Confucius and He both believe that Ya Yue (Proper Music) is beneficial and nurturing, whereas Yin Yue (Improper and Licentious Music) is corrupting and destructive. When asked the definition of Proper Music, His Majesty replies that Ya Yue consists of two kinds of music written and produced at the Bureau of Music of Great Brilliance: heavy and solemn music, or light and entertaining music. The former is to be performed at sacrificial rites and other official Confucian ceremonies, whereas the latter may be played during dinner parties, banquets and other informal gatherings.
    Some time later, Huizong receives an unexpected fan letter from a distant land. Apparently, Emperor Yejong of the Korean Court of Goryeo has heard of the Chinese Emperor’s growing reputation as a patron of the arts. After expressing his admiration, the Korean Emperor begs Huizong for guidance in the purchase of musical instruments from China. Filled with pride and gratification, Huizong immediately orders dozens of zithers, horns, flutes, cymbals, chimes and bells to be sent to Yejong as a goodwill gesture. Not long afterward, Huizong follows with an even larger gift of four hundred and twenty-eight musical instruments.
    Since Gege is increasingly preoccupied with his studies and classmates from the university, Ah Zhao and I are left more and more to our own devices. We talk for hours about nothing and everything—painting, sculptures, rocks, ghosts, history, family intrigue, court gossip or Ah Wang’s bossiness. But mostly we talk about the meaning of art.
    Ah Zhao believes that the goal of a great artist is to strive for artistic Truth, not just to make things look realistic. He thinks loving art will improve a person’s quality of life—any person’s life.
    “An artist,” he says, “is in touch with Heaven. In fact, he’s an instrument of Heaven. Look at the trees, flowers, shrubs and rocks around us. How orderly Nature is! I feel that the source of our sense of beauty comes from Nature. A true artist is engaged in a spiritual quest. He’s searching for his private Heaven.”
     
     
    One afternoon, Gege returns home from classes earlier than usual and comes into the playroom carrying a thick roll of silk. He plonks it down on the table and says to Ah Zhao, “There you are!”
    “That’s a long piece of silk!” I exclaim.
    “Just over one and a half zhang long.”
    “It looks narrow,” Ah Zhao says. “What’s its width?”
    “You told me to get as long and narrow a piece of silk as possible for our painting. This is only seven and a half cun wide.”
    “Length and width are perfect!” Ah Zhao replies. “The color is great too. Not too yellow. Not too white. Somewhere in between.”
    “What are you going to do with it?” I ask, full of curiosity.
    “Remember the day the three of us were together on the bank of the river at Qing Ming?” Gege says. “Ah Zhao promised to help me paint the view of the capital from the Longevity Gardens.”
    “It’s going to be a magnificent picture!” Ah Zhao’s