Chapter Twelve: Trouble Arrives (Part One) — Third Update

Since the Wei and Jin dynasties, the influence of northern customs had gradually seeped in, leading to a loosening of strict boundaries between men and women; such openness had become almost an elegant ornament in the lives of scholars and gentlemen. Although Zheng Yanqing was young, his talent was extraordinary. To have created a script unlike any seen before in history—would it not lack a certain romantic flavor if he had no charming tales of red sleeves adding fragrance to his work? Thus, Zhang Zhongjian and the other two seemed quite accustomed to such things.

Whether they were inwardly stirred by gossip, Yanqing could not tell.

Sitting inside the carriage, Zheng Shian wore a stern expression. “Yanqing, no matter how great your achievements may be in the future, you must always remember this one thing: speak to no one of Duoduo. Otherwise, you will invite unimaginable disaster.”

“But why?” Yanqing asked, resisting.

Zheng Shian sighed and said gravely, “I once believed Madam Xu and her daughter were simply noblewomen fallen on hard times, so I paid little attention. But now, it appears that is not the case. After reading Xu Mi’s letter, our master—such a high and cautious man—immediately burned it without sharing the contents with anyone. Never have I seen him act so carefully. And the messenger today referred to the girl as ‘Miss,’ which also suggests Xu Mi is not from a ruined noble house but rather…”

But rather what?

Zheng Shian left it unsaid.

Yet Yanqing understood the implication: Madam Xu and Duoduo must be conspirators against the throne!

As a child, he had once overheard Madam Xu and Duoduo discussing the current Pillar of State, Duke Song, and Right Martial Marquis General He Ruobi. Yanqing had vaguely suspected then that Madam Xu must be connected to the traitors.

Now, hearing confirmation from Zheng Shian, the feeling was quite different.

Lowering his head, Yanqing softly replied, “Grandfather, you have my word.”

He neither gave a direct promise nor refuted Zheng Shian, but the old man took it for granted that Yanqing had agreed.

So he did not pursue the matter and changed the subject to Yanqing’s new script.

Though not highly literate, Zheng Shian was a man of broad experience. Yanqing had to be cautious in conversation, careful not to reveal his secrets. Fortunately, Zheng Shian was mainly excited and did not interrogate him too closely. After a while, fatigue overtook the old man.

Age had diminished his energy. Soon he was dozing against the carriage wall, while Yanqing gazed out the window, his thoughts soaring far beyond the clouds…

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At midday, the convoy arrived outside the city of Yanshi.

Zheng Shian ordered Zheng Weishan to set up camp, then took him into the city. Zheng Weishan went to purchase supplies, while Zheng Shian, on orders, went to visit a local magnate. Before leaving, he instructed Yanqing to remain in camp and not wander off.

No sooner had Zheng Shian left than Du Ruhui and Sun Simiao came looking for Yanqing.

“Yanqing, what are you up to?” asked Du Ruhui.

Yanqing was examining his Green Pearl dagger and looked up. “Nothing, just thinking.”

Du Ruhui grinned, his eyes nearly disappearing in mirth. “Thinking about your little sweetheart?”

“Ah!” Yanqing’s face flushed scarlet.

Sun Simiao, annoyed, scolded, “How can you speak so carelessly? Yanqing is surely thinking about his script.”

As he spoke, his gaze unconsciously landed on the Green Pearl dagger in Yanqing’s hand.

At first startled, Sun Simiao asked in surprise, “Yanqing, is that the Green Pearl you’re holding?”

“Huh?” Yanqing nodded. “It’s called Green Pearl. Do you recognize it, Master Sun? Is it famous?”

Sun Simiao said, “I have heard of this divine weapon. In the Taikang era of the Western Jin, Shi Chong spent a fortune to have master craftsmen forge it. He had a favored concubine named Green Pearl, hence the name. Later, Green Pearl leapt to her death, and Shi Chong was killed amid chaos; the whereabouts of this dagger became unknown. Who would have thought it would fall into your hands?”

Yanqing never imagined his Green Pearl dagger had such a history.

Sun Simiao continued, “If it is truly Green Pearl, you must keep it safe. Though not a peerless weapon, it is extremely valuable. If the wrong people find out, trouble may follow. Remember, wealth must not be flaunted.”

“Thank you for the warning, Master Sun,” Yanqing replied, tucking the Green Pearl and the blue-wrapped ‘Farewell Ode’ close to his person.

Du Ruhui grew impatient. “Yanqing, the weather is so fine outside. Why not go for a walk instead of sulking here?”

“But Grandfather said I shouldn’t go out.”

“Steward Zheng forbade you from going alone. Now you’re with us—how could he blame you?” Sun Simiao smiled and nodded.

Indeed, with Master Sun to shield him, what could go wrong?

Besides, it was only a stroll. After being cooped up in the carriage all day, some fresh air would do him good.

With this in mind, Yanqing stood up. “Master Sun, Master Du, isn’t Brother Zhang coming?”

“Zhongjian?” Du Ruhui laughed. “He can’t sit still. He just finished setting up camp and went straight into the city to see a friend. Let’s not meddle in his affairs. We’re just wandering nearby and won’t go far.

“Speaking of which, there are some lovely places around Yanshi. Not far from here is the site of the old Imperial Academy from the Eastern Han. Your ancestor, Master Zheng Xuan, once lectured there. Since you are a member of the Zheng family, you ought to visit and pay your respects. Master Sun, what do you think of my suggestion?”

Sun Simiao nodded gently. “Ruhui makes a good point.”

Since Master Sun agreed, Yanqing did not object further. The three left camp together, Sun Simiao holding Yanqing’s hand while Du Ruhui joked alongside, making their way toward the ruins of the Imperial Academy.

Early spring weather is ever changeable.

When they left camp, the sun was shining brightly, but before long, the sky darkened and a fine drizzle began to fall.

The rain was cold, striking their faces and making them shiver.

Fortunately, Du Ruhui had brought two bamboo umbrellas. Sharing them with Sun Simiao, the three did not let the weather dampen their mood. In the gentle rain, the countryside was shrouded in a mist as thin as silk, blurring the world into a painting.

Willows by the roadside swayed in the breeze and rain, lending the scene a poetic charm.

“Strolling in the rain has its own special flavor,” Du Ruhui remarked, clearly relishing the atmosphere, speaking to Sun Simiao.

In such a scene, tinged with mystery, Sun Simiao nodded in agreement. Still, for all the talk of “spring outings,” there was little green in the fields, which was rather a pity.

The Imperial Academy of the Eastern Han was founded in the fifth year of Jianwu, and expanded several times thereafter.

By the twenty-seventh year of Jianwu, its lecture hall was already thirty meters long and nine meters wide. In the sixth year of Yongjian, Emperor Shun further enlarged it, and by the time of Emperor Zhi, there were more than thirty thousand students—an impressive scale.

During the Cao Wei era, the Academy was revived.

In the second year of Zhengshi, that is, 214 AD, twenty-eight stone classics were carved at the Academy. Because they were inscribed in large seal, small seal, and clerical scripts, later generations called them the “Three-Script Stone Classics.” The texts included the Book of Documents, the Spring and Autumn Annals, the Book of Changes, and the Gongyang Commentary, for students to study and copy.

After the Western Jin, the Han-Wei system was revived at the Academy. In the second year of Xianning (276), the National Academy was established outside the Imperial Academy, and the two coexisted. Emperor Hui of Jin decreed that sons of fifth-rank officials could enter the National Academy, while sons of sixth-rank and below attended the Imperial Academy.

Sadly, following centuries of chaos among the Five Barbarians, the once-glorious Imperial Academy of the Eastern Han had become a ruin.

“Since Yanqing has copied the works of Censor Cai, you must know that he once inscribed the Xiping Stone Classics here in clerical script… Too bad those classics were lost in the wars, and now we can only pay our respects to their memory,” Du Ruhui sighed, as if speaking to Yanqing, or perhaps just to himself.

“Ruhui, do you have any ambitions in life?” Sun Simiao suddenly asked.

Du Ruhui paused, then replied softly, “I have no great ambitions—only that one day, I might assemble all forty-six Xiping Stone Classics.”

“Oh?” Sun Simiao frowned, while Yanqing was utterly astonished.

He had never expected that Du Ruhui—later ranked third among the twenty-four legendary ministers of the Lingyan Pavilion—was, at this moment, just an enthusiast, dreaming only of collecting a set of stone classics. This hardly seemed heroic.

Yanqing had thought Du Ruhui would boldly declare his aspiration to govern the country and bring peace to the world.

But this answer hardly matched the fame he would earn in later generations. Could it be that this Du Ruhui was not the same Du Ruhui of history?

But then, on reflection, Yanqing understood.

It was still the reign of Emperor Wen of Sui. Since the founding of the Kaihuang era, the Sui Empire remained prosperous. Domestically, though not entirely harmonious, there were no great troubles; abroad, Emperor Wen had firmly defeated the Turks, Tuyuhun, and other northern tribes. Although the campaign against Goguryeo in the second year of Renshou had failed, the state remained strong.

At such a time, most people had yet to conceive thoughts of rebellion.

So it is said: the times make the hero, and it is in chaos that great deeds are accomplished.

Du Ruhui was the son of high officials—his grandfather was Minister of Works, his father was Prefect of Changzhou, both fourth-rank officials, making the family prominent at court. His ambitions might not be lofty, but talk of rebellion would be unrealistic.

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End of the third chapter. Please bookmark and recommend!

Alas, my results are dismal…