Chapter 25: The Youthful Xining

When Lu Qing and Eunuch Guo were seized by Yang Jun of the Wanquan Military Command, a young boy of fifteen or sixteen was squatting on the ground more than a hundred miles away in Huailai, holding a tree branch in his hand. Not far from him, dozens of soldiers were assembling a large tent.

The tent was enormous and tall, its canopy crowned with a bright yellow spire, far grander than the others nearby. Yet, precisely because of its size, the soldiers had struggled for half an hour and only managed to assemble half of it, leaving the officer in charge beside himself with anxiety.

Everywhere, people bustled back and forth without pause. In the distance, a sea of heads stretched as far as the eye could see, black with the press of bodies. Flags of every color fluttered everywhere, dazzling the eye and making it impossible to discern which belonged to whom.

There were simply too many people, and just as many horses. The shouting of men and the neighing of horses mingled into a deafening din. To seek a quiet spot in such chaos was hopeless. Yet, no matter how loud the commotion around him, it seemed not to disturb the boy. He remained quietly squatting, silently confirming in his mind the strokes of the character he wished to write. Then, without hesitation, he used the branch to inscribe a word on the ground: “Nation.”

Gazing at the flawlessly written character, a smile finally broke across the boy’s face. Just as he was about to practice it a few more times, a familiar voice called from behind, “Xining, what are you doing here?”

At the sound, Xining quickly tossed aside the branch, sprang to his feet, turned, and bowed respectfully to the newcomer. “Master, I was practicing my writing—just the character for ‘nation’ that you taught me,” he replied.

The newcomer was an old man with white hair, dressed in a splendid scarlet robe, his kindly face and benevolent eyes giving him the air of a venerable elder. The whisk he held lent him a further touch of ethereal grace. Behind him trailed several eunuchs in red robes and a dozen or so in green, but none could compare in bearing to the old man; they followed him meekly, as humble as servants.

“Oh?” The old man’s interest was piqued at the mention of writing. Striding up to Xining, he looked down and indeed saw the character for “nation” written on the ground. He nodded in satisfaction, noting with delight the strength and character in the strokes. Yet amid his pleasure, he could not help but feel a pang of regret for the boy. If only this child were Han Chinese, he thought, and not a Jurchen! With such intelligence and eagerness to learn, he could have been sent to the Imperial Academy and cultivated for a few years, to become truly useful in time. But alas, the Jurchen were forbidden entry to the Academy by edict of the late Emperor Xuanzong, and though he held the Seal of the Directorate of Ceremonies, he could not break the rules set by the late emperor.

Ah...

Still, though the boy was not of the Academy, his talent could not be allowed to go to waste. The old man had taught scholars in his youth and the emperor in his old age; now, when time permitted, he would instruct this boy as well, to ensure him a good future. After all, he had taken a liking to Xining.

With these thoughts, the old man felt at ease. Looking at Xining, he praised, “You’ve made great progress lately, and it pleases me very much. Not long ago, while in the capital, someone gave me a fine Duan inkstone. I have no use for it; I shall reward it to you.”

“Truly?!” The prospect of receiving the inkstone filled Xining with delight. He had long coveted such a fine piece, but though he served the emperor closely, he was neither a eunuch nor a junior supervisor, holding no rank or title. To outsiders, he was but a lowly attendant, and those seeking favor in the palace would never bother to send him gifts. Unable to rely on bribes, he could never afford such a costly inkstone himself. Now that the master had promised to give him one, how could he not be overjoyed?

Seeing Xining leap with happiness, the old man laughed heartily. This child’s unaffected manner was a large part of why he favored him. Unlike other young eunuchs, who cowered in fear at his approach and would not speak a word even under threat, Xining was lively and open.

When his laughter subsided, the old man’s face grew serious. “But you must not become complacent. You need to keep practicing. To make your way in the palace, you must be literate, and your writing must be good! Look at the supervisors—who among them cannot read, or cannot write well? Who enters the Directorate of Ceremonies, and what sort of men does the emperor favor? Whom does the Grand Secretariat prefer to work with from our inner court? Think carefully, ponder well. Your days in the palace are long ahead of you—your vision must be long as well. Don’t think that just because you serve the emperor closely, your future is assured. You are still young; learn all you can and endure hardship—it will do you no harm, understand?”

At these words, Xining’s smile faded. His nose tingled with emotion, and he bowed deeply again. “I understand! Please rest assured, Master. I will not disappoint your hopes, nor will I fail to live up to your teachings. I will study hard, learn my characters well, and one day stand out from the crowd—to become someone as useful as the Grand Eunuch Sanbao and you!”

Hearing himself mentioned in the same breath as Grand Eunuch Sanbao, the old man was momentarily taken aback, then rather pleased. “Good, good—I shall watch over you. Do not let me down. Now, I have matters to report to His Majesty. When the emperor has driven back the Tartars and we return to the capital, I shall find time to instruct you again.” Then he asked, “By the way, where is the emperor?”

“His Majesty is still in the carriage and hasn’t come down yet,” Xining replied, pointing helplessly at the tent still under assembly. “They haven’t finished the imperial tent.”

“Why are they so slow?”

More than half an hour had passed, and still the tent was unfinished. Were they deliberately keeping the emperor suffering in the carriage?

The old man was greatly displeased and waved to one of the eunuchs accompanying him. “Go and tell them to hurry! The emperor has jolted along the road all day—at this rate, when will he have rest? If they don’t care for His Majesty’s comfort, I do!”

The eunuch hastily replied, “Yes, Master, I will urge them at once!” With that, he led several junior eunuchs off toward the imperial tent, bristling with irritation.

“They have grown too accustomed to peace—useless at war, useless on the march, and now they can’t even pitch a tent! If not for my insistence on the emperor leading the campaign himself, these soldiers would all be good for nothing after a few more years!”

Thinking of the incident with the Third Battalion on today’s march, the old man shook his head in exasperation and led his retinue to meet the emperor.

...

Author’s note: Eunuch Xining was a Jurchen, so after his later defection, his actions should not be called “Han traitor,” but perhaps “Ming traitor” would be more fitting.

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