
As the sun rose lazily, the fog hanging over the pond dissipated like dissolving ink. From time to time, he would write a letter for some family or read an official notice in the teahouse in exchange for half a chicken or a bowl of dumplings.īut that was not how he really made his living.

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Unlike most in the village, Tian knew how to read and write, but as far as anyone knew, he never passed any level of the Imperial Examinations. His robe was patched all over, though his under-robe still showed through innumerable holes. An accident in youth had lamed his right leg, but he preferred to shuffle slowly rather than using a cane. He was gaunt, sallow, his queue as thin as a pig’s tail, and his breath often smelled of the cheapest rice wine and even cheaper tea. Tian Haoli was in his fifties but looked ten years older. not unlike the owner and sole inhabitant of the cottage, actually.
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The bamboo grove around it was wild and unkempt the wooden walls crooked, rotting, and full of holes the thatching over the roof uneven, with older layers peeking out through holes in the newer layers. Everyone agreed-as they visited each other in their vacation homes and sipped tea-that he was the best Emperor of the Qing Dynasty: so wise, so vigorous, and so solicitous of his subjects! And as the Qing Dynasty, founded by Manchu sages, was without a doubt the best dynasty ever to rule China, the scholars competed to compose poems that best showed their gratitude for having the luck to bear witness to this golden age, gift of the greatest Emperor who ever lived.Īlas, any scholar interested in this cottage must be disappointed for it was decrepit. Indeed, having such a country lodge was the fashion among the literati in the lower Yangtze region in this second decade of the glorious reign of the Qianlong Emperor. The tiny cottage at the edge of Sanli Village-away from the villagers’ noisy houses and busy clan shrines and next to the cool pond filled with lily pads, pink lotus flowers, and playful carp-would have made an ideal romantic summer hideaway for some dissolute poet and his silk-robed mistress from nearby bustling Yangzhou.

