On the day Yang Yuhuan departed from Shu Prefecture, Huang Mengliang arrived to bid her farewell. Overcome with emotion, he wept openly, tears streaming down his face, his teeth clenched so tightly they chattered. Gazing skyward, he vowed solemnly, “I shall find a means to journey to Luoyang swiftly and seek her uncle’s blessing for Huan’er’s hand.”

　　Yang Yuhuan gently untied the sachet that she always kept close to her and handed it to Huang Mengliang, her voice barely above a whisper. “Today, we must part ways, and I cannot foresee when we shall reunite. Brother Huang, please do not grieve excessively. This sachet has been my faithful companion. Accept it as a memento.” Her words caught in her throat as she struggled to contain her emotions.

　　Huang Mengliang stood transfixed, his gaze fixed on the carriage bearing Yang Yuhuan as it receded into the distance. For a long while, he remained motionless. Then, as if consumed by a sudden madness, he sprinted after the carriage, pursuing it relentlessly for much time.

　　After a lengthy and arduous journey by boat and carriage, Yang Yuhuan and her entourage finally arrived at Luoyang, the Eastern Capital. Their carriage passed through the imposing Dingding Gate, and as Yang Yuhuan lifted the curtain, she gazed up at the city gate tower. She marvelled at its intricate details—grand platforms, majestic gateways, palace structures, soaring galleries, well-trodden horse paths, and intricately designed water channels. To her surprise, the main thoroughfare of Dingding Gate spanned a remarkable four to five hundred feet in width.

　　Upon entering the inner city, Yang Yuhuan found herself surrounded by an array of exquisite gardens and opulent mansions, each more splendid than the last. The air buzzed with the lively sounds of vendors and hawkers. Along the bustling streets and in front of shops, vibrant clusters of peonies bloomed abundantly, living up to the adage, “Luoyang’s soil yields the finest flowers, with peonies reigning supreme.”

　　Her third uncle, Yang Xuanguo, held the esteemed post of Military Officer in Henan Province, overseeing diverse craftsmen and their arts. Under his roof, Yang Yuhuan enjoyed leisurely days listening to musicians and singers ply their talents. It was a tranquil and idyllic period for her.

　　With the arrival of summer came the auspicious day of Princess Xianyi’s wedding to Yang Hui, son of Yang Xuanguo, both esteemed descendants of the Yang family of Hongnong. Naturally, the grand occasion summoned the entire Yang Xuanguo clan to attend.

　　On the day of Princess Xianyi’s wedding, Yang Yuhuan moved gracefully among the gathered women, her demeanor demure and her gaze lowered. Despite her modesty, her exceptional beauty radiated unmistakably, confirming the rumours that she surpassed all others in loveliness.

　　Princess Xianyi’s mother, Empress Wu Huifei, was greatly taken by Yang Yuhuan’s extraordinary beauty. Noting Yang Yuhuan’s age was comparable to that of her son, she began contemplating a union between them. Thus, she addressed Emperor Xuanzong, saying, “I have a request, Your Majesty.”

　　Emperor Xuanzong turned to his beloved consort and replied, “Speak freely, my dear.”

　　Empress Wu Huifei gestured with her silk fan towards Yang Yuhuan and proposed to Emperor Xuanzong, “Your Majesty, behold. Among the ladies of the Yang family, the one dressed in yellow exudes both dignity and beauty. She is of similar age to Qing’er (Li Mao, originally named Li Qing). Why not betroth her to Qing’er as his principal consort? I am curious to know Your Majesty’s thoughts on this matter.”

　　Emperor Xuanzong raised his gaze and contemplated inwardly, “This woman possesses a voluptuous figure, bright eyes, and dazzling teeth—truly like a celestial descending to earth. Despite her modest attire, she stands out like a crane among chickens, remarkably beautiful.” A warm smile graced his features as he remarked aloud, “A talented young man matched with a woman of such beauty! Splendid! Splendid!”

　　Empress Wu Huifei, brimming with delight, bowed gracefully and expressed, “Thank you, Your Majesty, for granting my humble request.”

　　After all the guests had settled into their seats, Yang Yuhuan couldn’t help but admire the lavish spread laid out for the wedding feast. Even the appetizers were extravagant, featuring golden jujube cakes, walnut pastries, Jiangmi bars, and honeyed samdado.

　　The main course was none other than the renowned Luoyang water banquet, a grand affair comprising a total of twenty-four dishes. These included eight cold dishes, four main delicacies, eight intermediate dishes, and four table-pressing dishes, providing a harmonious blend of hot and cold offerings, meats and vegetables, sweet and savory flavors, as well as spicy and tangy tastes.

　　The serving order was meticulously planned. Initially, they presented eight cold dishes as appetizers, each plate featuring a combination of three types of dishes, totalling sixteen varieties. These were intended to accompany the drinks.

　　After three rounds of toast, the hot dishes were served. First came the four main delicacies, with each followed by two intermediate dishes, known as “Belted Attendant Style.”

　　Finally, the culmination of the feast arrived with the presentation of the four table-pressing dishes, one of which was the egg soup, often referred to as farewell soup, symbolizing the conclusion of the grand meal.

　　Accompanying the hot dishes were soups designed to complement and enrich the flavours. These soups featured a plethora of ingredients, including chicken, duck, fish, seafood, mushrooms, and seasonal vegetables, prepared in diverse styles such as shredded, sliced, strips, chunks, diced, fried, stir-fried, braised, and grilled. This ensured a rich and varied dining experience, where every dish contributed to the overall culinary delight.

　　The menu boasts an enticing array of dishes: “Peony Swallow’s Nest”, “Braised Carp with Scallions”, “Veiled Fermented Tofu Pork”, “Colorful Sea Shrimp”, “Five-Spice Fish”, “Tender Fish Fillet”, “Diced Chicken”, “Crisp Crane Breast”, “Floral Shark Fin”, “Golden Monkey’s Quest”, “Squid Blossoms of Spring”, “Emerald Umbrella Dumplings”, and countless more—an endless feast for the senses.

　　Shortly after Princess Xianyi’s wedding, Consort Wuhui sent the eunuch Niu Guier to the household of Yang Xuanzhen, bearing betrothal gifts. Niu conveyed Consort Wu’s intentions clearly: she had taken a liking to Yang Yuhuan and wished to have her as a daughter-in-law.

　　Yang Xuanzhen, a minor seventh-rank official, was overjoyed at the prospect of forming such a prestigious connection with Consort Wu. Unable to hide his delight, he gladly accepted the proposal.

　　Upon learning of the arrangement, Yang Yuhuan grew troubled and confided in her third uncle and aunt about her childhood love, Huang Mengliang, who was soon to propose marriage.

　　Yang Xuanzhen sought to console her, saying, “You and Huang Mengliang may share a mutual affection, yet he is still far away in Shu Prefecture. Though he once promised to come swiftly to Luoyang to seek you, his father may not necessarily approve.”

　　Her third aunt also offered words of comfort: “Moreover, Huang Mengliang has no title or distinction. Even if he journeys alone to Luoyang to find you, what would you both live on once his travel funds run dry? You’d be without shelter, with not a foot of land to call your own—surely you wouldn’t want to end up sleeping in the streets? Prince Shou, on the other hand, is handsome and refined, nearly your age, and his mother, Consort Wuhui, is deeply favoured. Who’s to say he might not ascend to the throne one day? If you marry him, you might one day become the empress, with a boundless future before you”.

　　Yang Yuhuan lowered her head in thought. She wondered whether her dear Huang could even make it to Luoyang, and if he did, what then? Her uncle and aunt’s words held truth—how could two young souls, both under seventeen, survive in a place like Luoyang? What does a woman seek in life, if not a good marriage? Besides, as she was already dependent on others for shelter, perhaps it was wiser to marry sooner, to make a proper match and become the Princess Consort of Shou.

　　Not long after her marriage, one day Yang Yuhuan thought of Huang Mengliang. With a pang of nostalgia, she took up her pipa in the back garden of Prince Shou’s residence, playing and singing softly:

　　As the sun fades, flowers sigh in the haze,

　　The moon shines like silk, sleepless in sorrow.

　　Zhao’s zithers rest upon phoenix pillars,

　　The Shu lute yearns to play lovers’ strings.

　　This tune has meaning, yet none to hear;

　　I wish to send it on spring’s breath to Yanran.

　　I think of you, so distant beyond blue skies.

　　Those eyes once bright as rippling waves—

　　Now turned to weeping springs.

　　If you doubt my broken heart,

　　Return to see me before my mirror.

　　Her voice was soft and lilting, filled with lingering sorrow, as if each note carried a piece of her soul.

　　Though Prince Shou discerned the hint of longing for a past love in her song, he did not feel anger; instead, he stood transfixed, utterly enraptured. Reflected in the water, her graceful figure was like a lotus poised upon the surface; her delicate features, framed by distant hills, bloomed like flowers amidst a lush meadow. She seemed as a peony swaying in the breeze, a crabapple blossom opening tenderly with morning dew. The pipa’s melody plucked at his heartstrings, each note stirring a deeper affection, each sigh invoking a lasting yearning.

　　As Prince Shou listened, he instinctively reached into his sleeve, drawing out a bamboo flute adorned with a fragrant sachet, and began to play softly alongside her melody. Yang Yuhuan, having come to the garden to ease her longing for Huang Mengliang through song, was startled by the gentle strains of the flute. She quickly ceased her singing and playing, and upon turning, saw Prince Shou standing behind her. Flustered, she hastily rose and greeted him with a respectful bow.

　　Prince Shou and Yang Yuhuan continued to converse, exchanging thoughts on music and dance. Only then did Yang Yuhuan realize that Prince Shou, too, had a deep appreciation for music, and gradually, a fondness for him began to blossom in her heart.

　　Meanwhile, ever since Yang Yuhuan had left Shu, Huang Mengliang had pined for her day and night. Unable to bear the separation any longer, he left home and, in the spring of the twenty-fourth year of the Kaiyuan era (736 AD), finally arrived in Luoyang.

　　Huang Mengliang asked the innkeeper’s young servant about the whereabouts of Yang Xuanzhen’s residence in the Henan Prefecture. The servant, grinning mischievously, replied, “Ah, sir, I can tell by your accent that you’re from Shu, so you must be a relative of General Yang, yes? I suppose you’ve heard that General Yang’s niece married Prince Shou and are here to seek refuge with them, aren’t you?”

　　Upon hearing this, Huang Mengliang’s mind buzzed, and he nearly fainted in shock. He could hardly believe that the woman who had married Prince Shou was the Yang Yuhuan he had so longed for. Desperately, he asked the young servant again, “Which niece of General Yang are you talking about? Do you know her maiden name?”

　　As the young servant wiped the table, he casually continued, “I don’t know her maiden name, but I’ve heard some rumours. This niece is the daughter of Yang Xuanyan, the Controller of Accounts of Shu Prefecture. Her father passed away early, and General Yang brought her to Luoyang to raise her. Truly, as the saying goes, don’t rejoice over having a son nor grieve over having a daughter—look now, this daughter has become the very cornerstone of the family”.

　　Huang Mengliang, unwilling to believe such a startling claim, decided to go to the residence of General Yang in Henan to get to the bottom of the matter. However, before he could reach his destination, he was intercepted by one patrolling imperial guard, who halted him and began to check his household registration.

　　On the tenth day of the first month that year, the imperial court issued a decree: “All fugitives across the realm, hear this—those who surrender within this year shall return to their native villages if they possess ancestral land; those who do not shall await further instructions. Anyone who fails to comply within the given time will be hunted down by special envoys and dispersed to various military camps”.

　　Huang Mengliang had left home without authorization, and according to the imperial decree, commoners were not permitted to flee their native regions. If they did not voluntarily surrender and were caught, they would be sentenced to exile and sent to the military camps.

　　Huang Mengliang thought to himself, “I’ve come to Luoyang after so much hardship just to see Yang Yuhuan. Now I hear she has already married Prince Shou, but I don’t know if the news is true. I haven’t figured it out yet, but I absolutely cannot be caught and sent back to my hometown, let alone be exiled to the military camps!”With that, he turned and fled. The imperial guard pursued him relentlessly. New to the city and in a panic, Huang Mengliang ran without thinking, heading towards the northern part of Luoyang, beyond the Li neighbourhood. The imperial guard, however, showed no mercy and quickly closed the distance.

　　After fleeing into the Li neighborhood, Huang Mengliang dashed from De Fang to Ji Shan Fang, and then continued running further north. Suddenly, he saw ahead a group of several hundred Uyghurs engaged in prayer. The women of the Uyghur tribe were dressed in black robes, their faces concealed by black veils, leaving only their eyes exposed.

　　Seeing this, Huang Mengliang quickly devised a plan. In a moment of desperation, he snatched a still-damp black woman’s robe and veil from the Uyghur’s clothesline and hastily donned them. He then knelt down and pretended to join in their prayer, hoping to blend in unnoticed.

　　The imperial guard arrived at the scene but could not find Huang Mengliang. After a moment of thought, the guard reasoned, “The young man we were chasing must have blended in with the Uyghurs. The Uyghurs are a tight-knit group, and I’m alone without any backup. If I rashly enter and start searching the women one by one, I might offend them. If a commotion were to arise, it would do us no good. It’s better to let it go for now.” With that, he decided to abandon the search.

　　After a while, seeing that the imperial guard had left, Huang Mengliang lifted the veil from his face and was about to remove the black robe. At that moment, an Uyghur woman grabbed hold of him and shouted loudly, “Catch the thief! Quick, catch the thief, someone has stolen my clothes!”

　　Huang Mengliang was surrounded by the Uyghur women, unable to escape. In a panic, he quickly explained, “Please, listen to me! I had no intention of stealing your clothes. I was being pursued by the guard just now, and in my haste, I borrowed these clothes to disguise myself as one of you, so I could evade their pursuit. I was just about to return them.”

　　The Uyghur women were unwilling to listen to his explanation. Without a word, they bound Huang Mengliang tightly and handed him over to their leader, the Imam.

　　The Imam, showing no interest in Huang Mengliang’s plea, sternly declared, “The clothes of the Uyghur women have been tainted by you, a filthy Han man. They can no longer be worn, and you must compensate for them.”

　　Several burly Uyghur men advanced, searching Huang Mengliang thoroughly. They stripped him of all his belongings, including the little money he had, before finally releasing him.

　　As night fell, Huang Mengliang walked dishevelled through the Li neighbourhood. Having been on the run all day, he was famished, and now, with no money left, he realized that he would likely have to endure a night of hunger and sleep on the streets.

　　He reached into his pouch and, to his relief, found that he had brought along his bamboo flute instead of the more valuable jade flute. The bamboo flute was of little worth and had not been taken by the Uyghurs.

　　Huang Mengliang thought to himself, “I never imagined I would end up as a beggar on the streets, reduced to this pitiful state. How tragic! How lamentable!”

　　He took off his hat and placed it on the ground, then pulled out the bamboo flute and began to play in the corner of the street. The mournful and soulful notes resonated with his deep longing for Yang Yuhuan and his bitter predicament, capturing his emotions perfectly. Passersby stopped to listen, and before long, several copper coins had been dropped into his hat.

　　At that moment, several ragged beggars shuffled over, approaching the crowd of onlookers. “Don’t just stand there, don’t watch anymore”, they called out. “Move along, move along! The Beggar Clan is at work here. Quickly disperse, and mind your own business!”

　　The common folk, fearful of the Beggar Clan’s power, quickly dispersed. The leader of the beggars was dressed in tattered clothes, his teeth black and yellow, and a long scar ran across his face. He walked straight up to Huang Mengliang and said, “Boy! You must be new here. Don’t you know the rules of Luoyang? This area is the territory of the Beggar Clan’s Da Yong branch. If you want to beg here, you need to pay the customary fee. Do you understand?”

　　To find out what happens next, please stay tuned for the next chapter.