A Poet’s Haunting Memories in Old Age

In 1205, the renowned Song Dynasty poet Lu You gazed at his reflection in the mirror, shocked to see an 80-year-old man staring back. The once-vibrant scholar who had dazzled courts with his literary brilliance now confronted the inevitable march of time. His thoughts, as they often did in his twilight years, turned to Shen Garden – that sacred space near Shaoxing where youthful passion and lifelong heartache intertwined.

Each visit to the city became a pilgrimage as Lu You would climb the city walls to gaze toward Shen Garden, the site where he had first loved and lost Tang Wan, his cousin and first wife. Though their marriage lasted merely three years before his mother forced their separation, their bond endured across decades. Now, in his dreams, Lu You wandered those familiar paths again, hoping against hope for one more glimpse of his beloved. But only the plum blossoms and flowing streams remained to greet visitors; even the famous poem “Phoenix Hairpin” they had exchanged on the garden walls had faded with time.

Waking with tear-stained cheeks, the octogenarian poet poured his sorrow into verse, composing two poems that would immortalize his undying affection. These works capture the essence of a love that transcended social conventions, family pressures, and even death itself – a testament to emotional fidelity that would resonate through Chinese literary history.

The Arranged Marriage That Sparked True Love

The story begins in 1144, when two retired officials arranged a marriage between their children. Twenty-year-old Lu You, already celebrated for his literary talents, became engaged to his seventeen-year-old cousin Tang Wan. Their union represented a typical elite marriage of the Southern Song Dynasty period, where family connections and social standing often determined marital matches.

What made this pairing extraordinary was the genuine, passionate love that blossomed between the young couple. Contemporary accounts describe them as inseparable – roaming the countryside, composing poetry together, and reveling in each other’s company. In an era when marriages primarily served social and economic functions, their romantic devotion stood out as remarkable.

Lu You’s mother had initially approved the match, seeing Tang Wan as an appropriate bride from their own social circle. However, as the young couple’s intense bond became apparent, his mother grew increasingly concerned. She worried that their passionate attachment would distract Lu You from his scholarly pursuits and civil service examination preparation – the traditional path to success for educated men of the scholar-official class.

The Painful Separation and Its Consequences

After just three years of marriage, Lu You’s mother made the fateful decision to force a divorce. She invoked the most socially acceptable justification available – Tang Wan’s supposed infertility, playing on the Confucian principle that “there are three forms of unfilial conduct, of which the worst is to have no descendants.” This reasoning, while harsh, protected family honor and prevented public scandal.

The young poet initially resisted, even attempting to establish a separate household with Tang Wan. But in twelfth-century China, filial piety and parental authority ultimately prevailed. Lu You eventually capitulated to his mother’s demands, signing the divorce papers that would separate him from his true love.

Both remarried – Lu You to a woman from the Wang family who bore him sons, Tang Wan to Zhao Shicheng, a member of the imperial clan. They might have lived out their lives in separate contentment had fate not intervened years later at Shen Garden.

The Fateful Reunion at Shen Garden

In 1151, a melancholy 27-year-old Lu You wandered into Shen Garden, the site of so many happy memories with Tang Wan. By chance (or perhaps destiny), he encountered his former wife there with her new husband. The emotional impact of this unexpected meeting reverberated through both their lives.

In a remarkable display of grace and understanding, Tang Wan’s husband allowed her to offer Lu You a cup of his favorite wine as a gesture of closure. This simple act of courtesy unleashed a torrent of emotion in the poet, who responded by inscribing his famous “Phoenix Hairpin” poem on a garden wall. The poem’s heartbreaking refrain – “Wrong, wrong, wrong!” and “No more, no more, no more!” – expressed his profound regret over their forced separation.

When Tang Wan later discovered this poem, she composed a response in the same form, revealing the depth of her own suffering. Her verse spoke of the “cold morning wind” drying tears and the necessity to “swallow sorrow and feign happiness.” These paired poems represent one of Chinese literature’s most poignant dialogues of lost love.

The Tragic Consequences of a Broken Heart

The emotional toll of this reunion proved devastating for Tang Wan. Already weakened by years of suppressed grief, she fell seriously ill shortly after her garden encounter with Lu You and died in 1156 at just 29 years old. Her death marked Lu You profoundly, becoming the defining tragedy of his long life.

Meanwhile, Lu You faced professional setbacks that compounded his personal sorrows. His outspoken patriotism and opposition to appeasement policies toward the Jurchen Jin dynasty made him enemies at court, including the powerful chancellor Qin Hui. Despite his literary brilliance, Lu You repeatedly failed the imperial examinations due to political interference, thwarting his ambitions to serve the nation.

Shen Garden as Living Memorial

For the remaining six decades of his life, Lu You returned repeatedly to Shen Garden, transforming it into both personal shrine and creative inspiration. His visits produced some of Chinese literature’s most moving poems about love, loss, and memory.

At 63, receiving a chrysanthemum pillow reminded him of crafting similar pillows with Tang Wan in their youth. At 67, seeing the fading “Phoenix Hairpin” inscription on the crumbling garden wall stirred new verses. Even at 85, the year before his death, Lu You composed one final poem about Shen Garden, acknowledging that while his “beautiful one” had long returned to earth, their connection remained vibrantly alive in his heart.

The Enduring Legacy of a Song Dynasty Romance

The story of Lu You and Tang Wan transcends its historical context to speak universal truths about love and loss. Their paired “Phoenix Hairpin” poems became literary classics, studied for their technical brilliance and emotional power. Shen Garden evolved into a pilgrimage site for lovers and poets alike, its walls bearing witness to one of China’s most famous romances.

Beyond its cultural impact, their story illuminates important aspects of Southern Song society – the tension between individual desire and family duty, the precarious position of women in marital arrangements, and the role of poetry as emotional outlet in a constrained social world. Lu You’s prolific output (over 9,000 surviving poems) ensures that his voice, and through it Tang Wan’s memory, continue to resonate nearly a millennium later.

In an era when marriages served practical functions, the persistence of Lu You’s devotion to Tang Wan across eight decades stands as extraordinary testament to the power of human connection. Their brief union and lifelong separation remind us that some bonds, though severed by circumstance, remain unbroken by time. As Lu You himself wrote in his final years at Shen Garden: “The flowers bloom as splendidly as ever/Half of them remember the young man I was.” Through his poetry, both the young man and his love remain forever alive.