Several days later, Ying Jie’er returned home for her first visit as a married woman, accompanied by her husband.

Her hair was bound up in the style of a married woman. On top she wore a pale yellow jacket, and below, a light-colored painted skirt that rippled softly as water when she moved, its color as luminous as moonlight.

Though she was now a wife, the bright and lively girlish charm of former days was still there — which made it plain that the Marquis Household had treated her exceedingly well over these past few days, and had not let any tedious rules and conventions wear away Ying Jie’er’s natural spirit.

Standing before Ying Jie’er, Chen Xingchen was as if basking in a warm spring breeze — a faint blush on his cheeks, yet with an added touch of settled composure about him.

After the customary rites had been properly observed, Lin Shi took her daughter back to her room for an intimate talk.

Lin Shi, knowing well that the Marquis Household had treated her daughter kindly, was deeply gratified at heart. She counseled her daughter: “In all things, there is a give and take. The more your elders favor you, the more you must keep an inner measure of yourself — do not lose your sense of propriety. You must know how to respect your elders and show concern for them, so that they feel you are worthy of their goodwill… Hollow formalities may be dispensed with, but certain proprieties truly cannot be set aside.”

“Your daughter understands.”

Lin Shi then asked after Ying Jie’er’s father-in-law and mother-in-law. Ying Jie’er replied: “The court has already issued the decree — Father-in-law has been appointed to continue for another term. Like Father, he will set out once the Spring Festival has passed. My mother-in-law and young brother-in-law will all be going along with him.”

Lin Shi thought it over and advised her daughter: “Then you must make a point of helping them prepare and pack their things. Choose some fine items from your dowry and have them packed to bring along… The Marquis Household has a large and prosperous establishment, and naturally lacks for nothing — but this would be your gesture of goodwill as their daughter-in-law.”

“Your daughter has already been selecting things these past few days.”

Ying Jie’er thought of something and said: “These past few days, the aunts and the first and second sisters-in-law of the Marquis Household have all been angling to ask me about younger brother’s marriage prospects. I deflected them.”

Pei Shaohuai would be turning sixteen after the New Year — he was no longer young.

A fifteen-year-old Provincial First Scholar, from a noble hereditary household in the capital — he was naturally a highly sought-after match.

“I had originally intended to look into prospects on his behalf, but his heart is entirely devoted to his studies, and he has no thought of marriage yet. I may as well follow his wishes and leave the matter to be discussed a few years later.” Lin Shi replied.

After a pause she added: “But if something good and suitable happens to come along, one might keep an eye on it for your younger brother.”

Ying Jie’er nodded.

In the back garden herb plot, Chen Xingchen was directing the servants to carefully lift the potted medicinal plants one by one, loading them onto a cart to be moved back to the Marquis Household for tending.

His sister had been married out, and with her the herb plot was gone — the more Pei Shaohuai thought about it, the more aggrieved he felt.

Chen Xingchen raised an eyebrow at Pei Shaohuai with a smug look, and said: “So many medicinal plants — quite a number of them were ones I brought over in the first place, and now I am taking them back again. I truly feel a bit awkward about it.”

“You are benefiting at others’ expense and then making a show of embarrassment about it. If you hadn’t sent those medicinal plants over, do you think you would have been able to marry my sister?” Pei Shaohuai said indignantly. “Now I finally understand why you have such a particular fondness for mathematics.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Because Fourth Brother-in-law keeps a mental abacus inside his heart, and it never stops clicking away, calculating every move to a clear profit.”

Chen Xingchen said: “You cannot blame me for that — it was brother-in-law himself who said that Elder Sister was missing a few plants, and told me to find them as an apology.”

The Great Cold.

As the poem goes: “The old snow has not yet melted, when new snow again piles against the door. Before the steps the silver couch of ice is frozen, from the eaves hang icicles like stone pendants.” The chill was at its most extreme — the coldest time of the entire year.

Master Duan had spent long years in his wheelchair, and in winter his whole body suffered particular discomfort; during the Great Cold it was always worst.

On this morning, Pei Shaohuai had Nanny Shen slow-stew a whole brazier of mutton, and also had someone fetch the finest yellow rice wine from He Xiang Lou. Then he brought Shao Jin along to the Xu Family residence, planning to sit with the Master and enjoy a hot pot with some yellow wine to drive away the cold and warm the body, all the while discussing scholarship to distract the Master’s attention and ease his physical discomfort.

Arriving at the Xu residence, Yancheng came out to meet them with a smile: “I just knew you two would come.” The group went together to the Master’s courtyard.

They had just stepped through the courtyard gate when they saw Old Adu pushing the Master out from inside the house. Coming to a gentle slope, Old Adu accidentally stepped on a patch of ice, lost his footing, and tumbled down. Watching the wheelchair being flung forward, Old Adu did not stop to pick himself up — with one hand he seized the wheel of the wheelchair and steadied it, shielding Master Duan from harm.

“Are you all right, sir?” / “Are you all right, Adu?” — the master and servant asked each other at the same moment.

“I am fine — it is you, sir, who has been given a fright.” Old Adu scrambled to his feet, affecting an easy manner as he brushed the wet snow from his body, then smiled lightly and said: “Just now I didn’t see the patch of ice under my feet — careless of me.”

Master Duan did not believe him. Such a hard fall could not have left him unharmed. With a grave expression he said: “I will have my nephew’s wife find a physician to examine you. Don’t go hiding your injuries and enduring the pain quietly.”

Yancheng and Shao Jin were both eager to go over, but Shao Huai held them back, saying: “What would be the point of going over now? Old Adu’s nature is exactly the same as the Master’s — going over at a moment like this would only make him feel more uncomfortable inside.”

Pei Shaohuai quietly steered Yancheng and Shao Jin away from the courtyard and said: “Let us wait until the Master has dealt with things properly, and then go in.”

The scene he had just witnessed left Pei Shaohuai full of quiet feeling and emotion. Spring’s warmth, summer’s heat, autumn’s wind — time moved all too swiftly.

In the blink of an eye, he and Shao Jin had been studying under the Master for ten years. In those ten years, he and Shao Jin had grown into young men of refinement and bearing, while Master Duan had grown older still.

Old Adu had grown older too.

In Pei Shaohuai’s memory, Old Adu was robust and capable — able to do anything. He could brew sweet wine and prepare fine dishes, could climb the mountain to pick wild fruits for the Master to taste something fresh, and could even occasionally interject with a scholarly remark or two.

All these years, the Master’s collar had always been neat and tidy without a single crease — all thanks to Old Adu’s devoted care.

And now the Master’s hair had gone white, and Old Adu’s hair had gone white along with him. From here on, there would always be moments when one’s strength was no longer equal to one’s will.

Xu Yancheng said: “A while ago, Grandfather said he wanted to assign a few more servants to help the Master, but the Master refused. Old Adu explained that having unfamiliar people in the rooms made the Master feel unsettled and unable to rest comfortably, and so Grandfather had no choice but to let the matter drop… Who could have imagined that something like this would happen today.”

All these years, Master Duan had indeed found a kind of peace with his situation, but the scholar’s pride still made him reluctant to be seen in his undignified moments by those outside the inner circle.

Once the physician had examined Old Adu and confirmed there was nothing seriously wrong, the Master let out a breath of relief.

Only then did the three of them enter the courtyard and go inside to bow in greeting to the Master, pretending not to have witnessed what had happened earlier.

It was just the hour for the midday meal. A charcoal brazier was set up to warm the wine, and with a mutton hotpot to enjoy, the room became warm and cozy.

“In the Great Cold, one ought to stay close to the fire and not go out without reason — that saying is truly well-founded.” Master Duan remarked, his spirits lifting a little.

Shao Huai, Shao Jin, and Yancheng each in turn reported to the Master on their recent progress in their studies. The Master listened and then offered guidance, back and forth, and as the time passed, the teacher and students talked with great pleasure and ease.

Seeing that the Master’s expression had eased considerably, Pei Shaohuai came to the Master’s side, pointed to a spot on the wheelchair where the lacquer had worn away, and said: “The Master’s ‘steed’ has lost its lacquer. Shall this student go back and make the Master a new one?”

Master Duan counted quietly to himself and smiled: “This wheelchair you made for me, I have already used for eight years — a bit of worn lacquer is quite normal. Have Adu apply a fresh coat, that will do.” He told Pei Shaohuai not to go to any great trouble.

He added: “It is made of pear wood, and is very sturdy. I have grown quite used to it.”

Master Duan assumed the matter would be dropped there and then. Who could have known that half a month later, Pei Shaohuai returned.

Pei Shaohuai had found five or six carpenters and had a new wheelchair completed before the year’s end.

It was the same wood and the same design as the old one, with not a single dimension altered. But Pei Shaohuai had taken care to add a few small improvements.

He introduced them to the Master: “When someone pushes it forward, the ‘steed’ moves along without obstruction. But if the pushing force is suddenly lost, a locking mechanism automatically drops down to catch the wheels, so the ‘steed’ will not roll forward on its own. Inside the wheel axles, this student has added steel bearings — as long as they are oiled from time to time, it takes considerably less effort, and the Master may propel the wheels with just his own hands and move forward with ease.”

Pei Shaohuai wheeled the new chair up before the Master and said: “Master, please do try it.”

Old Adu tried it himself first and said with delight: “Master, it truly is much lighter and smoother — going uphill, there is no more fear of the wheelchair rolling backward.” He went on to praise: “Young Master Huai truly possesses great ingenuity, to think of such a clever design.” With such a wheelchair, the Master would be safer — of course Old Adu was pleased.

Master Duan accepted it and said: “Shao Huai, you have gone to a great deal of trouble.” This gift was meaningful not only for its ingenuity, but for the thoughtfulness it represented — the Master could appreciate that.

“It is all that this student should do.” Pei Shaohuai said. “The Master delights in viewing new scenery, and has said that new scenery brings new states of mind. This student thought that perhaps a new object might also bring a new state of mind.”

Taking advantage of the Master’s good humor, Xu Yancheng also said: “Master, Grandfather has had two rooms added to the outer wing of the courtyard, and plans to assign two servants to live there. They will not enter the courtyard in their daily routine — they will simply wait at Old Adu’s call at any time… What does the Master think?”

This time, the Master did not refuse. He said: “You have all given this genuine thought.”

The Master asked Pei Shaohuai what his plans were going forward — whether he intended to enter the Imperial Academy for further study, or to travel south to study through experience.

Pei Shaohuai replied: “Travel ten thousand li of road; read ten thousand scrolls of books. This student intends to travel south with Father to study through direct experience.”

The Master nodded and said: “You are right.”

“The capital, for all its splendor, always offers a limited view. By going to the Jiangnan region, you will be able to learn far more.” The Master explained: “Writing flows from the brush; what flows from the brush is rooted in what one has seen. What the scholars of the south have witnessed differs from what we have seen, and so their writing differs naturally. Since the Da Qing dynasty was founded, the southern scholars have historically held the advantage in the imperial examinations, with writing that surpasses that of the north — known for being at once delicate and incisive. This shows that the south has scenery worth beholding. Only after seeing it can one come to understanding. In this journey of yours, perhaps you will come to grasp the reason for this… Take the best of what you find and learn from it, complementing your own strengths where you have weaknesses. It will be of great benefit to you in the Imperial Examinations three years hence.”

The autumn provincial examinations were held separately for the Northern Metropolitan Region, the Southern Metropolitan Region, and the various provinces, while the spring Imperial Examinations gathered scholars from the entire realm to the capital to compete with their writing. Pei Shaohuai did not merely need to know his rivals — he needed to learn from them, and only then could he surpass them.

The Master continued: “Very well then. Lord Pei is taking up his post in Taicang Prefecture. Once Shao Jin and Yancheng have passed the provincial examinations and taken their degrees, they too will need to travel south and gain experience of the wider world — and they will now have somewhere to go. The path that the three of you, and Yan Gui, are destined to walk will be far longer and wider than the one walked by the generation above you.”

What the Master said was no empty remark.

Lord Xu had come from a humble family and started late on his path, yet had risen all the way to a second-grade post as Minister — he had been exceedingly fortunate in his official career. To advance any further and enter the Grand Secretariat as an advisor would likely offer very little chance. Pei Bingyuan had come up through the tributary student path, and had not entered officialdom until past forty. With achievements in governing and educating the people, and the status of an heir apparent, he had been able to rise to the junior fifth rank, and with this posting — whether for three years or a consecutive six — being promoted to the senior fifth rank would likely be near his ceiling. Advancing to the fourth rank would require producing accomplishments capable of convincing all the civil and military officials of the court.

Pei Shaohuai replied: “This student will make every moment of observation count, striving to understand and absorb everything deeply, and commit it all to written form.”

Master Duan’s wrinkles smoothed as he smiled and said: “You have always been steady and composed — I have complete confidence in you.” He then reminded him: “Before you leave, do not forget to pay your respects to your various examination teachers — they deserve your gratitude for having recognized your talents and shown you favor.”

“This student understands.”

Pei Shaohuai submitted a visiting card to Minister Zhang of the Ministry of War. The Minister’s residence sent a reply the very next day, saying Lord Zhang would be at home the following day.

Zhang Lingyi, like Lord Xu, had served as chief examiner for the provincial examination and had distinguished himself in bringing talented candidates forward — he had since been promoted to the position of Minister.

The following day, Pei Shaohuai brought gifts and called at the Ministry’s residence to pay his respects to his examination teacher.

“You are going south to study through experience?” Minister Zhang first appeared surprised, then revealed a trace of regret, then thought it over, and finally felt it was only as it should be. He said: “Within the Ministry of War there are several officials transferred from the Hanlin Academy — men of profound learning who can produce excellent policy-question answers. I had originally been thinking that once you entered the Imperial Academy, I would have you seconded to the Ministry of War for practical training, and have those men guide and instruct you properly, so that you would have a greater measure of confidence in the Imperial Examinations three years from now.”

“But you are right.” Minister Zhang said again. “Knowledge gained from books ultimately feels thin and shallow — if one follows in everything only what the books prescribe, it is armchair strategy, a cardinal error by any military principle. You are already a fine young talent; being confined within a single city is not conducive to broadening your knowledge. Going south to see the farming and mulberry cultivation, the water conservancy, the maritime customs — it will benefit you.”

A look of mild concern crossed Minister Zhang’s face. He said: “There is only one thing I worry about — when you return from Jiangnan, having become a great talent, will this old man still be able to claim you before others do? Outstanding young men of ability are the most difficult to hold onto… By the way, has your family arranged a marriage for you yet?”