No one can remain young forever, yet there are always young men in the full bloom of their time. If the flame is passed on without ceasing, then this spirit of youth carries on without end.

Along the plank walkways by the ancient pines, those descending the mountain offer words of advice to those still climbing — earnest and unhurried. In its own way, it is quite a sight to behold.

……

At the Taicang docks, the night lay dark and heavy. The last northerly wind of late spring met the moisture rolling in off the sea, and the waves were considerable.

The sea air was thick with mist. The moon above was blurred and hazy. Along the shore, only the sound of the tide advancing and retreating could be heard — seeing any distance was impossible. Deep in the third watch of the night, the yamen runners and militia on duty at the docks kept their spirits sharp, going to investigate the slightest unusual sound to ensure all was well.

When dawn was not far off, someone said they had faintly heard cries for help. As those cries grew gradually louder, everyone became alert.

Before long, a fast-oared rescue boat sent out to investigate returned, bringing back several waterlogged survivors in a wretched state. They had been adrift at sea for a full day. Fortunately, the rising tide had pushed them to the nearshore waters here, and they had been given a chance at life.

The survivors knelt and kowtowed, calling out “Your Honor” again and again in boundless gratitude. By their accents, they sounded to be from the Yangzhou region.

When questioned, they said only that their vessel had struck a hidden reef and that everyone on board had met with disaster — they were the lucky ones who had managed to cling to a plank and were thus saved. When asked which ship it was, where they had come from and were headed, and what business had brought them out to sea, the survivors were still in a daze, their answers halting and inconsistent, full of gaps and contradictions.

The yamen head noticed that their clothing was of fine fabric — not the coarse hemp robes of fishermen — and sensed something was amiss. He immediately ordered: “Take them to the yamen and await the Prefecture Magistrate’s judgment.”

The men collapsed to the ground, pleading for mercy without cease.

Inside the Taicang Prefecture Yamen, the survivors were separated and subjected to rigorous questioning. One by one, their stories unraveled. The truth of the matter was eventually brought to light. It turned out these men were cloth merchants from Yangzhou who, under cover of darkness, had slipped out of an unauthorized Yangzhou river crossing and set sail, intending to transport a shipload of silk fabrics to Japan for trade. The vessel was traveling along a well-worn route, yet for reasons unknown it had struck a reef. With its keel broken and seawater flooding in, the great ship slowly tilted and sank.

At present, only Taicang Prefecture and Songjiang Prefecture were permitted to trade by sea. Departing from an unauthorized crossing elsewhere and traveling privately to foreign nations for trade was a violation of Da Qing’s laws.

“Your Honor, how should these men be dealt with?” the yamen head asked.

Pei Bingyuan rose and paced back and forth inside the yamen office, deliberating for a long while.

Da Qing’s laws stated that “not a single plank may venture out to sea.” Trading with foreign nations on ships with three masts or more could be judged as conspiring with pirates and enemies, punishable by public beheading, with the entire family banished to serve as military dependents.

Under the lure of great profit, there were those willing to take the risk and sneak out in secret.

Since Taicang Prefecture had opened to maritime trade, this policy had been considerably relaxed — even those who were caught faced only minor punishment, nothing so severe as beheading or exile.

Pei Bingyuan was not a cruel official, and had no wish to take these men’s lives. Under ordinary circumstances, he would certainly have handled such a matter lightly.

But this was not an ordinary time — he had other concerns.

After dismissing the yamen head, his deputy turned to Pei Bingyuan and advised: “My lord, your six-year term of service is nearly complete and a promotion is within reach. At a moment like this, you must not let a moment of soft-heartedness give others cause to impeach you. If you do not act in accordance with Da Qing’s laws, there will certainly be those who submit a memorial accusing you of flouting the law and governing as you please.”

Although Pei Bingyuan had entered officialdom through the tributary student track, his achievements in governing Taicang Prefecture were considerable, and there was every reason to promote him further. Whether to Songjiang Prefecture or Suzhou Prefecture as a prefectural magistrate, or to be recalled to the capital for an important post — all of these were possibilities.

Seeing the Magistrate’s face clouded with hesitation and indecision, the deputy added: “If my lord does not wish to carry out the punishment personally, you may have them escorted to the Yangzhou Prefectural Yamen and leave the matter to those authorities to handle.”

To make such a display would seal these men’s fate — the outcome would be the same.

The deputy assumed that Pei Bingyuan’s hesitation was over his upcoming evaluation and promotion. But what was truly on Pei Bingyuan’s mind was his eldest son’s letter — Shaohuai had written that he was preparing to submit a memorial urging the full opening of the seas.

If he released the men and handled the matter perfunctorily, it would be just as his deputy said — he would inevitably invite criticism. The remonstrating officials at court would not let it rest, and it would cause trouble for Shaohuai.

But if he followed Da Qing’s laws to the letter and steeled himself to have these men beheaded, or had them escorted back to the Yangzhou Prefectural Yamen — that course was even less acceptable. Other remonstrating officials would use it as grounds to attack and impeach Pei Shaohuai, arguing: “His father had those who ventured to sea without authorization beheaded, personally upholding the ancestral prohibition on maritime trade — yet his son openly advocates for opening the seas. What manner of loyalty, filial piety, or adherence to proper rules is this?”

In that case, Shaohuai’s memorial would not be able to advance a single step.

Pei Bingyuan had no wish to drag Shaohuai down, and even less desire to be used as a weapon against him. He vaguely sensed that the emergence of such a situation at precisely this moment was no accident — someone had arranged it deliberately.

“Stand down for now. Allow me to think this through further,” Pei Bingyuan said.

The deputy could not understand what there was left to deliberate over, and withdrew with an awkward expression.

Pei Bingyuan sat alone in the yamen office, pondering for a long while, yet no good solution presented itself. The window cast layer upon layer of shadows on the floor. His mind drifted back to that year by the study window, when he had seen his two young sons earnestly copying out the “On Governance” Chuan Cheng – Chapter of the Analects — the moment that had moved him to enter government service through the tributary student track.

In the blink of an eye, both sons had grown into men of remarkable talent.

He had already gone farther than he had ever imagined. Why hesitate now? At fifty, one comes to understand heaven’s will. Since there was no solution that preserved both outcomes, he would settle for the lesser good and protect whichever he could.

Pei Bingyuan sat down and took up his brush. He wrote two letters: one addressed to Shaohuai, and one submitted as a memorial to the court.

……

Meanwhile, in the capital city, spring had come and the snow had melted away. By day and night, the streets grew gradually lively.

But within the manor of the Prince of Anping, sorrowful weeping filled the air. Yan Chengjin was finally setting out, taking his wife and children on the long journey to Ganzhou in the northwest, there to care for the elderly Prince of Fuping and attend to his final years.

If no imperial edict recalled him, he would likely never return to the capital again for the rest of his life.

Shortly afterward, the Son of Heaven issued a decree, conferring upon Yan Chengzhao the title of Heir Apparent of the Anping Prince’s Manor, with the announcement that he and the County Princess would wed on an auspicious day.

This County Princess of a different surname was born Zhao. She came from a family of military distinction, with generations of loyal men guarding the strategic fortress of Xuanfu on the frontier.

Years ago, the Northern Yuan had been struck by a locust plague that devastated the grasslands. Driven by the resulting food shortage, the people of the Northern Yuan had rallied, gathering the forces of the various steppe tribes and concentrating their strength in an attempt to break through Xuanfu and strike directly at the capital.

The Zhao family’s army fought to the last soldier, defending the northern gate of the imperial capital and repelling wave after wave of Northern Yuan assaults.

By the time reinforcements arrived, fires of battle still burned in all directions, and the city of Xuanfu lay in ruins. The rescue teams rushed to search the Zhao General’s residence, and in the woodshed of the rear courtyard — on the verge of collapse — they found a battered wooden chest. Inside it lay a baby girl of three or four months, and tucked into her swaddling clothes was the tiger tally of the Zhao family’s army.

That baby girl was none other than today’s County Princess — the only County Princess of a different surname in all of Da Qing.

……

Several months later, Pei Shaohuai finally encountered Yan Chengzhao again within the palace.

It was Yan Chengzhao who came to find Pei Shaohuai at the Office of Scrutiny.

“We have not seen each other in several months. Allow me first to offer my congratulations to Commander Yan on his recent marriage — may you enjoy the warmth of spring together,” Pei Shaohuai said.

Yan Chengzhao was now the Heir Apparent, and most people addressed him by that title. But Pei Shaohuai still called him Commander Yan.

Pei Shaohuai added: “My congratulations as well to Commander Yan on taking command of both the Northern and Southern Offices of the Embroidered Uniform Guard — another step forward.”

In the past, Yan Chengzhao had been trusted and valued by the emperor despite his status as an imperial relative, because of his personal abilities and the fact that he stood alone. Now he was trusted and valued all the more — because he no longer stood alone.

This turn of events helped Pei Shaohuai understand something more clearly: the emperor, beyond the side of him that flicked silver coins and ate green bean cakes, had another face entirely.

Yan Chengzhao cupped his hands in acknowledgment of Pei Shaohuai’s congratulations, then said: “I am heading out of the palace. His Majesty asked me to stop by on the way and let you know — come to the Imperial Study this afternoon for two rounds of chess with him.”

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of Yan Chengzhao’s mouth, and he added with a touch of mockery: “My thanks to Censor Pei for sharing the burden.” It was evident that Yan Chengzhao too served as one of the emperor’s regular chess companions. “To my knowledge, Censor Pei is the first official who has ever dared to win against His Majesty.”

That afternoon, Pei Shaohuai went to the Imperial Study to see the emperor. What had been agreed upon as two rounds of chess stretched on and on into five or six, until the head eunuch Xiao lit the lamps in the Imperial Study and the emperor finally realized that the entire afternoon had slipped away.

Pei Shaohuai was at last able to “escape.” He returned to the Earl’s manor and found that two letters had arrived from Taicang Prefecture.

The first was Shaojin’s reply, which raised the suggestion of vessel permits. Pei Shaohuai felt the idea was workable, so he tucked the letter back into its envelope and set it aside for future reference.

The second was a letter from his father. He had barely read a few lines when Pei Shaohuai’s brow furrowed deeply. The matter called to mind something Pei Jue had once said — factional power struggles were an undercurrent of treacherous schemes, and the opposing faction had no shortage of underhanded means.

Since Pei Shaohuai was regarded highly by the emperor, the opposing faction found it difficult to move against him directly, so they had turned to his family and close associates, slowly eroding his support.

Fortunately, his father had been alert enough to catch it.

Time was pressing. Pei Shaohuai needed to submit his memorial urging the opening of the seas as soon as possible. Once the seas were opened, the crime of “unauthorized overseas trade” would no longer exist, and his father would be freed from his impossible dilemma.

He took out a blank memorial sheet and on the hard cover wrote the title: “Memorial on Opening the Seas to Prepare for Far-reaching Strategy and Secure the Realm’s Stability.” The title alone conveyed the gist of the memorial’s argument — opening the seas was a matter of far-sighted strategy, beneficial to the people’s livelihood and the realm’s stability.

Within the memorial he wrote: “…Even the clever hare knows to dig three burrows, so as not to trap itself within a single warren. There is also a folk saying: ‘A source of trouble is like a rat’s hole — best to leave one.’ If every opening is stopped up entirely, then even the benefits are destroyed…”

“…Da Qing is vast, and those who dwell along its coasts are beyond counting. Those born by the sea live off what the sea provides. Forbidding the sea is like cutting off their food supply, driving them to band together with bandits and pirates — which is why coastal cities so often breed unrest. When the sea is open and trade permitted, the people have a means of clothing and feeding themselves, and pirates transform into merchants. When the sea is closed and trade forbidden, the people have no means of clothing and feeding themselves, and the people take desperate risks to survive…”

In the space of a few hundred words, two full hours had passed. When Pei Shaohuai set down his brush, the night was already deep.

……

Before Pei Shaohuai could find an opportunity to present the memorial to the emperor, another matter arose the very next day.

He had only just returned to the Earl’s manor when Yang Shiyue called him into the room and closed the door behind them.

“My younger female cousin’s coming-of-age ceremony is in a few days. I had someone go to the bookshop and buy a set of the Illustrated Exemplars of Female Virtue. The books have arrived, but there is something unusual about them,” Yang Shiyue said cautiously.

The Illustrated Exemplars of Female Virtue was a compilation edited by the court’s Ministry of Rites, recounting the deeds of virtuous mothers and wives throughout history, intended to guide women in cultivating moral virtue.

It was therefore common for noble households to present this work at coming-of-age ceremonies for young women, as a mark of womanly virtue and refinement.

Because the book bore such heavy marks of its era, Pei Shaohuai was not particularly fond of it. He leafed through it briefly and found nothing amiss, so he asked: “Shiyue, what seems to be wrong with this book?”

Yang Shiyue turned to the last few pages and handed the book to her husband: “The original text has only twenty-four chapters, but this copy has been expanded to thirty-six. Twelve additional chapters have been added, drawing on women from various dynasties — all virtuous consorts and concubines — beginning with Empress Mingde of the Eastern Han dynasty, and ending with the Chuan Cheng – Chapter on Imperial Noble Consort Zhou of Da Qing.”

“Imperial Noble Consort Zhou?” Pei Shaohuai had not yet grasped the significance of that detail. He knew little of the inner palace — the consorts of Da Qing were all commoner women.

He therefore had no idea who this Imperial Noble Consort Zhou was.

He read the opening summary of the final chapter, and immediately understood why Yang Shiyue had been so alert. He said: “This Imperial Noble Consort Zhou — she is the birth mother of the Prince of Chu?”

Yang Shiyue nodded.

During the reign of the previous emperor, Imperial Noble Consort Zhou had been showered with affection, and the previous emperor had commissioned texts praising her virtue on multiple occasions. Her renown among the common people had even surpassed that of the Empress of that time.

And yet, even so, she was nowhere near qualified to be ranked alongside Empress Mingde of the Eastern Han — let alone to be written into the Illustrated Exemplars of Female Virtue.

This was clearly the deliberate work of someone.