Chapter Fourteen: On the State of the World

The next morning, in the Qianqing Palace, within the Southern Study.

Emperor Qiande sat before his imperial desk, dressed in a bright yellow dragon robe, his brows furrowed as he carefully reviewed memorials. On either side stood several high-ranking ministers in their official attire, waiting quietly.

After a while, Emperor Qiande set down his brush and looked up at the ministers before him.

“Minister Wang, what is the purpose of the Western envoys’ recent tribute?”

Wang Renli, Minister of Rites, had hosted the visiting Western diplomatic mission the day before. He bowed and replied, “Your Majesty, the chief envoy from the Red-Haired Nation was very clear in his intentions; he seeks to establish trade with our dynasty. However, there are many matters to be discussed regarding commerce. I have chosen an auspicious day to further negotiate and have come to request your imperial instructions.”

Emperor Qiande’s dragon brows knitted slightly. “If their desire for trade is sincere, it may not be impossible…”

Wang Renli hesitated. “Your Majesty, I have another matter to request your judgment.”

Emperor Qiande glanced at him, speaking coolly, “Is it about the young historian?”

Wang Renli was momentarily surprised but replied, “Indeed!”

Emperor Qiande picked up the memorials on his desk, flipping through them absentmindedly. “You may all withdraw. I will make my own decision.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Wang Renli bowed deeply and withdrew. The other cabinet ministers exchanged glances, then also bowed and left.

“Summon the loyal Prince Shun, Marquis Jing, father and son, and Zhang Changlin for an audience!”

Emperor Qiande suddenly issued his command. The attendant eunuch hurriedly knelt and received the order before exiting the study.

Meanwhile—

Around the hour of the morning, Shi Yi rose from bed with the help of two young maids, washing and breakfasting.

Feeling content, Shi Yi picked up the poetry he had copied the previous night, thinking to seek out Daiyu for another pleasant chat.

After all, yesterday had been a good beginning; today he ought to seize the chance to deepen their connection.

Yet, by etiquette, even in broad daylight, he could not simply barge into a young lady’s private chambers. He was not Bao Yu; he had to maintain some dignity and follow the rules.

Unless Daiyu invited him in secretly, but judging by their current closeness, he was far from such intimacy.

It seemed today he would have to continue reciting poems and conversing across the window, Shi Yi sighed softly.

He rolled the slender manuscript into a tube and slipped it discreetly into his sleeve.

Before leaving, he donned a velvet cap and casually threw on a silver-fur cloak, then hurried out.

No sooner had he reached the courtyard than he encountered Jin Chuan walking from the corridor, smiling, “Master Yi, the master asks you to come to the study!”

Shi Yi’s face darkened. “Why does the second master want to see me?”

Jin Chuan smiled, “I don’t know, but there’s a gentleman named Jia Hua meeting him in the study!”

“Jia Yucun?” Shi Yi’s brows furrowed. “Didn’t he just visit yesterday—why is he here again today?”

He recalled that Jia Yucun had accompanied Daiyu to the capital yesterday and immediately visited Jia Zheng. Soon after, he left for Jinling to take up his post as magistrate. Shi Yi hadn’t expected Jia Yucun to linger in the household after his business.

Jin Chuan shook her head. “Second Master Bao was called in as well!”

Shi Yi smiled knowingly. “Jin Chuan, do me a favor—give this to Sister Lin.”

He handed her the slip of poetry from his pouch.

Jin Chuan was momentarily stunned, barely able to respond before Shi Yi gently took her other hand.

Her cheeks flushed, recalling yesterday’s embarrassing incident, and she tried to pull away, but found a few coins of silver pressed into her palm.

Shi Yi laughed, “This is for your trouble, thank you.”

Jin Chuan shyly withdrew her hand, lowering her gaze. “Master Yi, just say the word, no need for… such gestures.”

Shi Yi smiled awkwardly, “You must accept it; I may need your help again in the future.”

Jin Chuan’s cheeks reddened, and she nodded, scurrying away.

Shi Yi smiled faintly, slipped out the side door and passed along the corridor to the gate of Mengpo Study.

“You’re here too?”

—

Unexpectedly, he ran into a dejected Bao Yu stepping over the stone threshold.

A pale-faced page followed him, grinning and bowing.

Shi Yi looked at Bao Yu, amused. “Did you get scolded by the master again?”

His expression was clearly teasing.

Jia Bao Yu pouted, “You’ll get the same soon enough. Let’s go, Ming Yan.”

Watching him leave in a huff, Shi Yi couldn’t help but sigh.

Bao Yu was like a little emperor in the mansion—pampered when angry, accompanied while sleeping, assisted while bathing; whenever his head itched, he could call someone to scratch it.

Such privilege was fortune earned over lifetimes; his starting point was far above ordinary folk. With a bit of effort, he could rise even higher.

If not for this, he wouldn’t have ended up in ruin, his family exiled and himself wandering the streets.

Yet he was terrified of his father, Jia Zheng.

It seemed all the Jia sons feared their fathers; perhaps this was some kind of tradition!

Shi Yi chuckled, shook his head, and stepped over the threshold into the study.

When Jia Zheng saw him, his expression was grim and he snorted, “Come, pay your respects to Mr. Jia.”

Shi Yi hadn’t spoken yet, but Jia Yucun stood up, clasped his hands, and smiled, “Yesterday, when I visited, I happened to meet Young Master Yi. Meeting again today must be fate.”

Jia Zheng shook his head. “Enough with the ‘Young Master’—call him Yi, it’s less pretentious. Sit.”

Shi Yi and Jia Yucun sat down together.

He scrutinized the face before him, with its smile of a cunning man.

He was surprised; yesterday he had shown Jia Yucun no favor, yet today Jia Yucun was unfazed, smiling and courteous.

Jia Zheng regarded Shi Yi, pondering, “I heard you were negligent toward Mr. Jia yesterday?”

Shi Yi secretly laughed—so this was what it was about?

Jia Yucun hurriedly stood and bowed, “Uncle Jia, you exaggerate. It was my own rashness, nothing to do with Yi.”

Jia Zheng waved his hand. “No need to defend him. Last month he was reprimanded for misbehavior, and his bad habits haven’t changed.”

He then turned to Shi Yi. “Your father sent word yesterday that he hopes you will enter the civil service through the imperial exams. He’s asked me to instruct you these days, to temper your temperament. Do you object?”

Shi Yi frowned. “I have no objections, but I wonder if you wish me to continue memorizing the Four Books and Five Classics?”

Jia Zheng stroked his beard. “You must not neglect them. First, familiarize yourself with the Analects, then we’ll discuss others.”

Jia Yucun chimed in, “Judging from Young Master Yi’s intelligence, equal to Master Bao, a little effort will suffice for the imperial examinations—it is not so difficult.”

A flattering remark that praised even the absent Bao Yu.

Shi Yi, however, sneered inwardly, “Second meeting and you already claim to know my abilities? You’re more insightful than a thousand-mile gaze.”

Jia Zheng smiled, “Rain Village overstates it. These two are equally troublesome; the path of imperial exams is not easy.”

Jia Yucun sighed, “Uncle Jia need not worry. As the saying goes, the river’s waves push the old, the world changes—new faces replace the old.

Consider, I have read the classics for half my life, endured twenty years of hardship, finally entered the scholar’s hall, received official rank, devoted myself to the people. Yet I offended a petty man and was falsely accused…

If not for your help, I would have been ruined… alas!”

Jia Zheng sighed as well, encouraging, “When heaven assigns great responsibility, Rain Village, do not be anxious. If I did not know your talent, even with Brother Lin’s recommendation, I would not be so eager.

An official should worry for the nation and people—you have upheld integrity, which is rare; even after being wronged, your resolve remains. Your prospects are limitless.”

Jia Yucun bowed deeply. “Thank you for your praise, Uncle Jia—such kind words, in the future I will repay your great kindness however I can!”

He bowed deeply in gratitude.

Jia Zheng was pleased, gesturing, “No need, Rain Village. Promoting talent is our duty as ministers.”

Watching the two banter, Shi Yi wanted to laugh; he felt like an outsider.

After some further discussion, Jia Zheng turned to Shi Yi. “From today, come to my study daily to read. No more Analects—memorize the Book of Rites. I’ll test you each day after court. Is that clear?”

“Why the sudden change?”

Shi Yi was startled, hesitated a moment, then said, “Uncle, I really have no interest in the Four Books and Five Classics. Please, could you tell my father not to force me—my ambition is to earn merit on horseback, to be a general like Li Mu or Huo Qubing.”

Jia Zheng’s expression darkened, his voice stern, “Keep such words for your father. Today, either stay and study or do not come again.”

“So rigid, so stubborn,” Shi Yi thought helplessly.

Sensing the atmosphere tense, Jia Yucun quickly interjected, smiling, “It is fortunate Young Master Yi has such ambition. But throughout history, the greatest generals were also learned.

—

Master Sun Wu, the Sage of War, was steeped in the classics, composing The Art of War, undefeated in battle.

General Wu Qi of Wei mastered military, legal, and Confucian thought, never lost a campaign, and his treatise influenced countless generations—thus, the importance of reading.”

Jia Zheng stroked his beard in agreement. “Rain Village speaks wisely.”

Shi Yi laughed inwardly, “So all this was just to prove your last point?”

He simply disliked the Four Books and Five Classics, not military texts.

Shi Yi didn’t want to argue further and smiled, “From what Rain Village says, he must be well-versed in military strategy?”

Jia Zheng said nothing.

Jia Yucun replied confidently, “I have a modest understanding.”

Shi Yi raised his brows, smiling, “Then may I ask, with the northern tribes stirring, a major force rising—what are your thoughts?”

Jia Zheng’s expression soured, about to admonish.

Jia Yucun smiled, “The northern raiders are suffering natural disasters, short on supplies, and the tribes are killing each other for resources. It’s normal, nothing to worry about.

They are scattered; it’s impossible to unite and invade our empire soon.

If I were the court, I’d use open trade as bait, announce that the strongest tribe may trade with us, accelerating their mutual destruction.

When the time comes, our army can advance and annihilate the remnants—the vast northern lands will become our territory.”

He spoke with enthusiasm.

Jia Zheng praised, “To win without fighting, first ensure invincibility, then defeat the enemy—excellent.”

Shi Yi chuckled, “Military strategy says, ‘Know yourself and know your enemy, a hundred battles without peril.’

As I know, the new leader of the Dzungar tribe, Galdan, is both brave and cunning—the strongest in the north.

On the steppe, strength rules. If trade is used as bait to trick them, it’s too simple.

If it fails, resentment against the court will grow, and Galdan might persuade the other tribes to unite quickly and invade, threatening our borders—the suffering will fall on the people.”

Jia Zheng’s face darkened, snorting, “Just empty talk. Rain Village’s plan is practical. If you disagree, what would you do?”

Shi Yi smiled, “Simple—support the weak and suppress the strong, balance the tribes, never let a single power emerge. Whoever rises, strike them! Second—”

He was cut off by Jia Zheng, “Nonsense! War is not child’s play.”

Jia Yucun objected, “Our dynasty has suffered disasters this year—floods in Jingchu, droughts in Qilu, locusts in Hanzhong, not to mention bandits. If we send the army beyond the frontier, it will drain resources. Victory is fine, but defeat would shake the nation’s foundations and cause greater calamity.”

Jia Zheng scolded Shi Yi, “That is foresight—commanding armies is not a game. Strategy is not mere talk. You need to study more, instead of shirking your duties. Stay here and read.”

Shi Yi smiled helplessly, not arguing. They simply had no common ground.

Jia Zheng seemed diligent with others’ affairs, but lax with his own son.

Shi Yi pondered how to persuade this stubborn, old-fashioned man; he could not waste time reading useless classics.

Just then, a matron entered to announce that Marquis Jing had arrived; his carriage was at the gate, and Shi Yi was to go immediately.

Jia Zheng was surprised, and on inquiry, learned it was an imperial summons.

He hurriedly urged Shi Yi not to delay.

Shi Yi rushed out, his mind a torrent.

It was normal for the emperor to summon his father, Shi Ding, but why include him?

The more he thought, the more puzzled he became, until he reached the gate of the Rongguo mansion.

A carriage with four-cornered blue trim waited at the door.

“Get in quickly!”

A sharp voice came from inside; Shi Yi pursed his lips, stepped onto the stool, and lifted the curtain.

As soon as he settled, the driver tugged the reins, and the carriage sped toward the imperial palace.

Shi Yi looked at the stern-faced middle-aged man before him and asked with a smile, “Father, why does His Majesty summon me as well?”

Shi Ding, dressed in a marquis’s robe with nine serpents and four claws, shook his head, “Once inside the palace, do not look around, do not speak, do not ask.”

Three don’ts—Shi Yi nodded blankly.