landscape by Wang Wei, and I would be impressed were it not for the unfortunate circumstance that ice melts."
The Courtier bowed. "So will your power."
Kuo-chung refused to be annoyed. It was too much exertion when there was no necessity. After all, he was firmly entrenched at the Palace. Nevertheless, he said, "Wang Wei paints snow and his fame endures."
"But he sets it down on paper or silk ere the snow melts. Even after the snow is gone, the landscape remains, frozen reality."
Kuo-chung yawned. Sustained argument was always exhausting, so he turned away. He knew that vanquished or not, he would always be victor while his cousin graced the Emperor's bed. Nor was his confidence imprudent for during the ensuing weeks his position at court increased in importance as his illustrious cousin, Yang Kuei-fei, continued to smile upon him. She had a sincere affection for him, despite his having wasted his youth in riotous living. Though she confided in nobody, she was planning even greater things for him at the opportune moment.
It was a far cry from the day when the Emperor had mounted his throne in humility, for now the Court was the most colorful in all the world. Countless were the gay affairs at the Palace when beautiful women in sheen of pearls and satins glided through the fantastic measures of "The Rainbow Skirt and Feather Jacket," while Yang Kuei-fei watched excitedly, her cheeks glowing
with color, star-dust in her eyes, the joy of composition
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