Chapter Thirty-Eight: Biyou Manor (Part Two)

Zhao Mingfeng led Fang Guohuan on a leisurely stroll through Bixiao Mountain Villa. As they walked, Zhao Mingfeng pointed to Wild Goose Lake and said, “This lake is home to more than a hundred species of aquatic life, most of which my father had brought here from various rivers and lakes. For instance, the famed ‘Three Treasures of Tai Lake’—silverfish, meijiu shad, and white shrimp—as well as crucian carp and bian fish from Dongting Lake, can all be found here. Some years ago, a giant carp weighing over seventy pounds was caught here.”

Fang Guohuan exclaimed in admiration, “Wild Goose Lake is truly a treasure! What marvelous waters!” Zhao Mingfeng replied, “This lake does indeed harbor more species than most, but it has cost my father considerable effort. Take, for example, the yellow eel from Dongting Lake, which had to be introduced four times over three years before it finally settled and began to thrive here. Yet, there are still some puzzling things: for instance, we have tried to introduce soft-shelled turtles from more than ten different water systems, but none survived. Eventually, my father gave up. However, in the Lotus Pond, which is connected to the lake, we can keep five or six species of turtles without issue. Who knows why?”

Fang Guohuan mused, “If it’s not the water, then perhaps it’s the ground itself.” Zhao Mingfeng nodded, “That might well be. Later, I’ll have someone net a few fresh fish from the lake so we can enjoy them with our wine.” Fang Guohuan laughed, “But when such delicacies are transplanted, can their original flavor truly be preserved?” Zhao Mingfeng smiled, “Raising them in different waters inevitably brings some change, but with the skill of our kitchen masters, I believe they can compensate for any loss, and the taste will be as authentic as ever.” Fang Guohuan nodded, laughing, “That would indeed be extraordinary!” He added, “I suspect your esteemed father had more in mind than merely enhancing the scenery by bringing these aquatic treasures here?”

Zhao Mingfeng replied, “Perhaps he only wished to indulge my palate.” At this, the two men burst into laughter.

As they wandered, they occasionally encountered servants or maids strolling about. Seeing the young master entertaining a guest, the staff kept their distance, not daring to disturb them. Soon, Fang Guohuan noticed a white tower half-hidden among the trees atop a small hill ahead—the highest point in the garden.

Zhao Mingfeng said, “That is the White Stone Pavilion, where I studied as a boy. Let’s go up and take a look.” He led Fang Guohuan up the hill and into the building. The pavilion, constructed entirely of white marble, gleamed smooth and spotless in the light. It rose three stories high, containing nine rooms lined with books, all immaculate, and furnished with elegant simplicity—a true scholar’s retreat.

Zhao Mingfeng brought Fang Guohuan to the top floor. From the window, the view opened wide—the White Stone Pavilion stood by Wild Goose Lake, with willows at its back, truly a lofty vantage. Zhao Mingfeng gestured, “What you see here is but a fraction of the villa’s beauty—the hills and woods conceal much from view. To the right of the lake, half-hidden, is the ‘Serenity Garden’ within the garden; to the left stands the solitary peak of Liganshan, with a spring halfway up that pours into a waterfall, shrouded in mist morning and evening—a wondrous sight. In the distance, you can barely make out the ‘Night Light Pagoda,’ built of thirteen tiers of granite, with a tip of luminous stone that glows at night—truly a marvel…”

Fang Guohuan looked around as Zhao Mingfeng indicated, full of awe. “This earthly paradise is so vast! How many years did it take to build such grandeur?” Zhao Mingfeng answered, “My father inherited the family business at a young age and became a successful merchant. At eighteen, he chose this site and began building bit by bit. Ten years later, the villa had taken shape—only to be mostly destroyed by a great fire.”

Fang Guohuan could not help but sigh, “What a pity! What a loss!”

Zhao Mingfeng smiled, “As the saying goes, old things must fade for new sights to come. Later, the grounds were expanded and rebuilt, with new additions every year. It took over fifty years to reach its present scale.” Deeply moved, Fang Guohuan felt a profound respect for Zhao Mingfeng’s father, Zhao Chen, wondering what sort of extraordinary man could create such a home.

From the White Stone Pavilion, the views of Wild Goose Lake were complete. Fang Guohuan noticed a large island in the middle of the lake, surrounded by water on all sides. It lacked any pavilions or buildings and seemed rather desolate, out of place among the meticulously designed scenery. Pointing, he asked, “Brother Zhao, that island stands alone in the lake, shrouded in mist, quite unusual, doesn’t it?”

Zhao Mingfeng paused, then smiled. “That is the Heart of the Lake Island, accessible only by boat. It’s the most mysterious place in the villa.” “Oh?” Fang Guohuan gazed at it thoughtfully.

Zhao Mingfeng continued, “In the past fifty years, aside from my father, who visits once or twice a year, no one in the household—including myself—has ever set foot on that island. My father set a strict rule: no one may approach or land on the island, and violators are severely punished. Boats are forbidden on the lake, except for a few old servants who occasionally fish for the household’s table.”

Fang Guohuan was astonished. “It’s so secluded—surely your father has a special purpose for it. Perhaps he’s hidden all his lifetime treasures there?” he joked.

Zhao Mingfeng shook his head. “Hardly. My father is not a miser; there would be no need for such precautions. Though only he may go there, and always alone, returning by dusk, I’ve not seen anything out of the ordinary. What secrets the island holds, I do not know—it remains a mystery.” Fang Guohuan was left even more intrigued.

Descending from the White Stone Pavilion, Zhao Mingfeng led Fang Guohuan to other elegant spots like the Purple Smoke Pavilion and the Flowing Cloud Tower, before finally arriving at the Hundred Flowers Hall. This hall was a collection of exotic blooms, tended by specialized gardeners, and many varieties were unfamiliar to Fang Guohuan, leaving him amazed.

A head gardener hurried forward as Zhao Mingfeng approached. Zhao Mingfeng asked, “Lu Gui, have you gathered the flower petals the young mistress needs for brewing her Hundred Flowers Wine?”

Lu Gui replied, “Yes, young master. I have followed the young mistress’s instructions precisely. Would you and this gentleman care to enjoy some Hundred Flowers Tea in the hall?” “Hundred Flowers Tea?” Fang Guohuan echoed in surprise. Zhao Mingfeng laughed, “You know my taste for fine food, but I am no less discerning in the art of tea.” Fang Guohuan smiled, “Whatever passes the lips deserves care and attention—that is the mark of your character, Brother Zhao.” Zhao Mingfeng accepted the compliment with a laugh, and invited Fang Guohuan into the hall.

The Hundred Flowers Hall was a bright and airy chamber, sparsely decorated with a few pots of rare plants. The doors and windows stood open, letting in waves of delicate fragrance. Zhao Mingfeng and Fang Guohuan took their seats, and servants brought in the tea service. Before pouring, they plucked a few fresh petals from the garden outside and placed them in the cups, then filled them with tea. The infusion turned a delicate pink, unlike any ordinary tea.