Before Emperor Hongwu Zhu Yuanzhang proclaimed himself King of Wu, the residence where he lived was the current mansion of Duke Weiguo Xu Da.
The site selection for the Great Ming Imperial Palace was quite strange. Emperor Hongwu Zhu Yuanzhang didn’t choose a conventional location, but instead took a fancy to the vast Yanque Lake, filling the lake to build the palace.
Besides soil, countless giant wooden stakes and stones were also thrown into the lake, forcibly transforming the lake into land to construct the palace buildings.
This was a massive engineering project.
From the palace site selection alone, one could see how stubborn this founding emperor was—daring to make heaven and earth take on a new appearance, turning seas into mulberry fields.
When the main structure of the Great Ming Imperial Palace was completed, Emperor Hongwu moved from his former residence to his new home, and bestowed the old house he had lived in to his most admired founding general Xu Da, renaming it Zhanyuan.
Back when they were filling the lake, craftsmen deliberately left a small lake within the Forbidden City for future garden landscape construction.
However, after Emperor Hongwu ascended the throne, for some unknown reason, he wanted to establish the capital in his hometown Fengyang, even calling Fengyang the “Central Capital.” He halted subsequent construction of the Nanjing Imperial Palace, redirecting manpower and resources to Fengyang to build a palace there, preparing to move to his hometown and relocate the capital.
As a result, the planned imperial gardens and other royal landscapes of the Nanjing Imperial Palace were suspended.
Relocating the capital was a major affair, and all the court officials offered advice and protests to stop this monarch’s crazy idea.
Finally, in the eighth year of Hongwu, Emperor Hongwu abandoned the idea of relocating the capital, ordering construction to stop at the Fengyang palace and restart the Nanjing Imperial Palace projects that had been shelved for many years.
Due to the prolonged construction period, it wasn’t until this year—the thirteenth year of Hongwu—that the rear palace gardens were finally completed.
Emperor Hongwu and Empress Ma both believed that the Yuan Dynasty’s ritual and music systems had collapsed and needed to rebuild the ceremonial system and revise various books, so they built a library to collect books dedicated from various regions.
Books were most afraid of fire, so libraries were mostly built in places with water. This library was built at the center of a winding lake, surrounded by water on three sides, making it convenient to draw water for firefighting.
The palace’s various affairs were shared among the Six Bureaus and One Department, each fulfilling their duties with clear authority and responsibility. However, since the library had just been completed, it hadn’t yet been clearly assigned to any particular bureau’s jurisdiction.
All six bureaus felt that library affairs were complicated and laborious, yet difficult to earn praise from the Emperor and Empress—thankless work—so no one came forward to compete for this assignment.
Moving the collection from storage to the library for classification and organization required female officials who could read and understand literature. Palace Administrator Fan felt that since none of the Six Bureaus and One Department wanted Hu Shanwei, and her family had been in the book business before entering the palace, why not assign her here?
Besides, the library was in a remote location, dealing only with books daily, almost completely isolated from the world. Even if Mu Chun, that troublemaker, came looking again, he couldn’t stir up much trouble or implicate others.
Overnight, Hu Shanwei fell from being a popular candidate to complete obscurity. Her dream of going to the Bureau of Palace Attendants as a head female official was shattered. Hu Shanwei had no chance to touch the empire’s heart—the imperial seal. Her recently rising ambitions for success crashed down from the clouds.
Hu Shanwei tightly gripped the keys to the library and storage warehouse, constantly comforting herself that as long as she had work to do, there would be opportunities to make a comeback.
No matter what she did, she must first do it well, then discuss other matters.
Previously, when copying books in her family’s library, she took no payment. Now, managing the palace library, she received monthly salary and had three meals a day delivered—her basic needs were covered, which was also progress.
No matter what, it was better than being an unpaid servant at home, crouching by the well washing diapers.
Every morning at the third quarter of the fifth watch, when dawn was just breaking, Hu Shanwei would go to the Bureau of Palace Administration’s Key Management Female Official to queue for the keys.
After getting the keys and opening the door of Storage Warehouse “C,” the sky was already bright. Taking advantage of the daylight, Hu Shanwei quickly flipped through each book. The warehouse had four book chests, labeled with the characters for Classics, History, Philosophy, and Literature respectively. After identifying the type of book, she placed them in the corresponding chests for initial sorting.
Classics were Confucian texts and various commentaries.
History included books related to history—various official histories, biographies, county records, commentaries, and so on.
Philosophy covered the various schools of thought, law, agriculture, mathematics, astronomy, medicine, and such.
Literature included various literary collections, Taoist scriptures, and Buddhist sutras.
Whenever a book chest was filled, she would call several young eunuchs to carry the chest to the library. The library had four floors. Hu Shanwei divided each floor according to the four major categories of Classics, History, Philosophy, and Literature. The fourth floor was the Classics section, the third floor was History, the second floor Philosophy, and the first floor Literature.
When she first entered the palace, Hu Shanwei ranked thirty-seventh—a cold stove. Only Mei Xiang was willing to take her as a teacher, guiding her everywhere and sharing knowledge freely.
When studying palace regulations and etiquette at the Palace Administration Department, Hu Shanwei’s records became the model. The night before the major examination, all the female officials gathered in her room for mutual testing, transforming her from a cold stove to a hot one. Everyone felt that Mei Xiang had a keen eye for recognizing talent.
But after the peach blossom powder incident, Hu Shanwei went from hot stove back to cold stove. She had entered the palace to become a female official, but all Six Bureaus and One Department avoided her like a snake or scorpion—no one wanted her.
Now, with Hu Shanwei managing the remote library, she had become completely cold—an “ice-cold stove”!
Initially, the young eunuchs would shirk responsibility with each other, too lazy to bother with Hu Shanwei’s instructions, refusing to help carry the heavy book chests.
Later, Mu Chun stepped in. No one knew what he said to those young eunuchs, but afterward, without Hu Shanwei even having to ask, they all competed to help carry the chests.
Every morning, Hu Shanwei selected books in the warehouse. After lunch at noon, she would come to the library to begin copying and compiling the book catalog. Following the dozens of subcategories detailed in the “Book of Sui’s Bibliography,” she would further subdivide the collection, placing books in their corresponding positions.
Except for transporting books, everything was completed by Hu Shanwei alone. Occasionally, when Mei Xiang wasn’t on duty, she would come help, sometimes having someone deliver snacks.
Hu Shanwei was very moved. In this world of changing fortunes, Mei Xiang remained consistent toward her.
At dusk, Hu Shanwei would inspect the library’s doors and windows, confirm they were closed, then lock up and deliver the keys for both the library and warehouse to the Bureau of Palace Administration’s Key Management Female Official for safekeeping.
In the formerly bustling row of corridor rooms, only Hu Shanwei’s room had light, appearing particularly desolate.
In the evenings, Hu Shanwei would explain the “Book of Songs” to Mei Xiang by lamplight until the second watch before resting.
The next morning at the third quarter of the fifth watch, Hu Shanwei would again queue at the Key Management Female Official for keys and begin work.
Day after day, the cycle repeated.
This time the Bureau of Court Rites held classes again. Thirteen-year-old champion Wu Qionglian became an instructor—known by everyone in the palace and the most sought-after female official.
Mei Xiang was too old to be selected, but every year-end, the Bureau of Court Rites instructors would set examination questions that anyone could register for. Those who passed the exam were called Female Scholars, thus escaping purely physical labor and able to assist female officials in the Six Departments and One Bureau with palace affairs, beginning their path to advancement.
Logically, Hu Shanwei’s library work should have had several Female Scholars assisting, but she was an “ice-cold stove”—no Female Scholar was willing to come help.
She didn’t belong to any of the Six Bureaus and One Department, with no “Shang” (Director) level female officials above her to speak up and fight for assistants. So Hu Shanwei worked quietly in the library, almost forgotten by everyone.
Hu Shanwei wasn’t discouraged. Her goal was to help Mei Xiang pass the year-end Female Scholar selection exam and gradually work their way out of this predicament.
While copying the catalog, Hu Shanwei wore down three brushes. Carrying a ladder, she flitted like a swallow among the rows of tall bookshelves.
When Storage Warehouse “C” was nearly empty, the library’s bookshelves were already half-filled, arranged neatly like soldiers awaiting a general’s inspection. The copied catalog index already filled five drawers.
Busy days always passed quickly, and summer quietly arrived.
Hu Shanwei’s regular clothes changed from silk to light, thin gauze fabric.
Mei Xiang finished studying the “Book of Songs” and began learning the “Analects.”
The ink-dot-like little tadpoles in the lake had also grown into frogs. At dusk, when Hu Shanwei closed the library doors and windows and prepared to deliver the keys to the Bureau of Palace Administration, she could hear the chorus of frogs.
On the road, a small pebble struck her skirt hem.
Without looking back, she knew it was Mu Chun.
Mu Chun stood under a cherry tree, clusters of ripe, red, sweet cherries hanging temptingly above his head.
Seeing his rare serious expression, Hu Shanwei knew the result. “Didn’t find anything?”
Mu Chun nodded. “Mao Qiang is too cunning. I couldn’t get any information about Wang Ning from the Imperial Guards.”
Hu Shanwei’s eyes dimmed. “I understand. Thank you. I need to deliver the keys now. Farewell.”
Mu Chun called out to stop her. “Are you giving up?”
Hu Shanwei turned sideways and said, “If someday I can have a position similar to Palace Administrator Fan’s—capable enough to oppose Mao Qiang directly—at that time, I’ll find out myself why Mao Qiang drove me out of the palace.”
The peach blossom powder incident had made her fall from the clouds to the depths. Mao Qiang was the true culprit. Mu Chun was just taking the blame.
Mu Chun watched Hu Shanwei’s retreating figure thoughtfully. He casually picked a cluster of red cherries above his head and stuffed them whole into his mouth. Mm, so sweet, except the pits were too hard and hurt his teeth.