Starlight in the darkness of night — it comes from the heavens, and naturally it must return to the heavens.
The fact that Imperial Astronomer Wu had left behind this letter meant he had long since sensed the danger coming, or that someone had coerced him, demanding that he manipulate the celestial signs to build momentum for a particular narrative.
Pei Shaohuai wished to see the Emperor, but he could not go.
Concealed within the palace was a faction, lurking like shadows beneath a lamp’s light, erasing their traces and hiding their movements. They had managed to evade the Southern Office of Imperial Security’s investigation and set fire to the Palace of Heavenly Purity. They had also extended their reach into the Imperial Observatory. This was not the work of a single day.
Under such circumstances, any superfluous move on his part could startle the prey and let the birds scatter from the nest.
From here on, Pei Shaohuai and the Emperor could only proceed by unspoken understanding.
Back in his office, Pei Shaohuai stared blankly at the lamp on the windowsill. In truth, he was not entirely at ease within himself. For he did not know — if Mars Occupying the Heart truly came to pass, if circumstances left no other choice, what decision the Emperor would ultimately make.
Compared to standing second only to the Son of Heaven, overseeing ten thousand subjects and reigning over a realm at peace, a humble fifth-rank official seemed hardly worth mentioning.
The Emperor had once said that no matter how dark the night, no matter how fierce the wind and snow, there would always be a lantern to see Pei Shaohuai safely out of the palace.
But Pei Shaohuai had rather hoped to carry his own lantern — one called “the rights of the people.” The authority of Heaven deceives people; imperial authority intimidates them; official authority relies upon imperial authority while also checking it, leaving that lantern to survive only in the narrow space between.
In truth, Pei Shaohuai could step back for now — step back, watch from the shore as the fire across the water burned, and wait for the situation to clarify before making his move, thereby preserving himself. But the cost of watching from the shore was that the fire would grow larger and larger, and sooner or later the fish in the pond would suffer too.
“When Qin lost its quarry, the whole realm gave chase” — he could only hope that the “quarry” set loose would be enough to draw out the great serpent lurking behind the scenes.
……
The following day, the Imperial Observatory’s sealed memorial was submitted to the Son of Heaven. Yet the weather was exceptionally clear; long-absent warm sunlight drove away the late spring chill.
Pei Shaohuai returned home early that day and shared the evening meal with his family.
“Elder Brother, you seem preoccupied today?” Afterward, the two brothers strolled and chatted in the courtyard.
Pei Shaohuai smiled and deflected: “What preoccupation? It is nothing more than the unsettled situation at court making me feel somewhat uneasy.” He changed the subject. “How do things stand at the northern frontier these days?”
“We scraped through a long winter without trouble. Military provisions are sufficient, and the tea-horse trade is keeping things in check — all is stable,” Pei Shaojin said. “Why does Elder Brother suddenly ask about this?”
The matter currently commanding the court’s attention was not the northern frontier.
“Don’t let your guard down,” Pei Shaohuai said. “Sometimes, what allows the Tatars to break through the border defenses is not their unstoppable warhorses, but Da Qing’s own internal unrest and an unsteady populace.”
“Elder Brother means that the northern frontier must guard not only against the Tatars’ undying ambitions to push south, but also against disorder arising in the Qin and Jin regions that could cause those territories to fall?” Pei Shaojin’s expression grew serious. He went on: “Steady the soldiers’ hearts, and steady the people’s hearts as well.”
Pei Shaohuai nodded. “The court revised the horse governance policies and reclaimed the pastureland seized by the Prince of Su and the Prince of Jin. We must also guard against them harboring resentment and colluding with our enemies from within.”
The Minister of the Imperial Stud, Lu Yanxue, was Shaojin’s wife’s grandfather; the Minister of War, Chen Gongda, and Grand Secretary Zhang Lingyi both thought highly of Shaojin. Pei Shaojin had always been moving further along the path of military affairs.
“Turn more of your attention toward these matters, and when things arise, consult more with Grand Secretary Zhang and Minister of War Chen. So long as the northern frontier and the eastern sea are held, any upheaval at court will not escalate into outright war.” Pei Shaohuai advised.
“I understand. Elder Brother, put your mind at ease.” For some reason Pei Shaojin always felt that his elder brother’s manner of speaking today was strange. At least on ordinary days, his elder brother would not lay things out so plainly like this — he would only offer a gentle nudge and let him work the meaning out for himself.
Pei Shaohuai went on to speak of coastal defense, and asked Shaojin: “When Elder Sister came back last time, didn’t she mention that her husband Yancheng had gone to Hejian Prefecture to deal with the envoys from the Japanese realm?”
“That is indeed what happened.”
“The next time you see Elder Sister’s husband and Yancheng, remember to pass along this reminder.” Pei Shaohuai said, “The Japanese realm may study the rites and culture of our Da Qing, but they cannot change their greedy and brutish nature. They are inherently given to admiring the strong and preying upon the weak. When dealing with them, do not be taken in by the compliance and reverence they display on the surface.”
Moving on to the subject of eastern coastal defense, Pei Shaohuai said: “The Yangtze and Huai River waterway systems are the lifeblood of Da Qing’s Grand Canal transport. With three great officials — the Inspector-General of the Yangtze Operations, the Governor of Yingtian, and the Governor of Fengyang — stationed there as guardians, each answering directly to the Son of Heaven, it is very difficult for outsiders to interfere or infiltrate. Therefore, if any southern unrest is to spread all the way to the capital, it can only come by way of the eastern sea, pushing northward. The Five-Army Naval Forces should be deployed in strict readiness at sea.”
“Why does Elder Brother suddenly bring all this up today?” Pei Shaojin asked, puzzled.
“It came to mind, so I mentioned it.” Pei Shaohuai kept walking, continuing to pace forward.
Without realizing it, the two brothers had made their way to the southeast corner of the estate. As the saying goes, “A house sitting north faces south, with the gate set to the southeast” — the Pei family’s residence was a classic north-facing, south-fronting layout, with the main gate positioned at the southeastern “Wind” corner.
As a household of noble distinction, the Pei estate had built the kind of grand formal gate befitting their rank — with two lacquered red pillars standing before and behind the gatehouse, solidly bearing the weight of the crossbeams, supporting the roof above, its tiles laid in a ridged peak.
It is because there are houses in this world that there are gates; and because there are people within those houses that there is such a thing as “lineage and standing.”
Pei Shaohuai paused at the gate. The setting sun’s last light slanted across the tiles, turning their slate grey to burnished gold. His gaze came to rest on the two eaves columns, and with genuine curiosity he asked his younger brother: “Does Younger Brother know why two eaves columns are set before the gatehouse, rather than one?”
“Naturally, because each must bear one end, so that the ridge of the roof can be properly supported,” Pei Shaojin said without hesitation.
“Younger Brother makes a good point. Each bearing one end — that is what keeps this great gate standing firm and unshaken.” Pei Shaohuai murmured the words to himself. Without him, there would still be Shaojin to hold up the Pei household.
Pei Shaojin felt more and more that his elder brother was behaving strangely today. Not only was there something weighing on his mind — beneath that smiling face there was also a worry that was difficult to name or describe. He was about to speak and ask, but heard Pei Shaohuai say: “The hour is getting late. I ought to go back to the study and check on Zhengguan and Yunci’s schoolwork.”
Watching his elder brother stroll with hands behind his back toward the study, that unhurried ease made Pei Shaojin think perhaps he had been overthinking things.
……
Pei Shaohuai first stepped into Zhengguan’s study.
The young boy was pacing about the room, reciting from memory, his posture straight and upright, his shadow moving with him, fully absorbed in the passage he was learning.
In truth, both Xiao Nan and Xiao Feng had temperaments much like Pei Shaohuai’s — only that Xiao Nan had inherited his father’s steadiness and careful attention to detail, while Xiao Feng had inherited the bold and daring side his father kept hidden within, along with just a touch of spirited audacity.
Zhengguan was reciting with complete absorption; Pei Shaohuai was watching with equal absorption.
About a quarter of an hour passed before Xiao Nan finally noticed his father at the door. He quickly set down his scroll and, with some effort, shifted the chair’s position to face him, inviting his father to sit, and prepared himself to recite and answer his father’s questions.
The ancients said that a father and son ought not to be overly familiar and intimate. But today, Pei Shaohuai reached over and lifted Xiao Nan up, setting him down on his knee.
“Father is not checking my studies today?”
Pei Shaohuai shook his head and said gently: “Tell Father where you went to play today.”
“I accompanied Grandfather today to the National Academy and saw so many students there reading and practicing their writing.” Xiao Nan scratched his head, looking somewhat puzzled. “But…”
“But what?”
“On the way back, I saw many boys and girls older than me. Some were roughhousing and kicking stones in the alleys; others were helping their parents with work; some were leaning over the walls of the National Academy, pointing and laughing at the students inside…I asked Grandfather, and Grandfather said that the chance to study is rare and precious, and that not every child in the world can receive an education.” Xiao Nan said.
“So you wanted to know why they don’t study?”
Xiao Nan nodded. He had not yet encountered much of the broader world, and in his own world, he had perhaps always assumed that studying was the ordinary course of things. When he discovered that others lived differently, it was only natural for him to feel curious. He said: “Did Father not say that studying allows a person to broaden their knowledge and discern right from wrong?”
If studying is a good thing, why does everyone not pursue it?
This question could have been brushed aside easily enough with the answer that “their families don’t have enough money to send them to school.” But Pei Shaohuai saw a light in his son’s eyes — that clear, unclouded brightness that had not yet been dimmed by the ways of the world.
Was it only their temperaments that Xiao Nan and Xiao Feng had inherited from him?
Xiao Nan asked: “Is it that there aren’t enough books?”
Pei Shaohuai shook his head.
“Not enough schools and teachers?”
Pei Shaohuai shook his head again.
“These are reasons, but they are not the most important one.” Pei Shaohuai explained. “The most important reason is this: once a person has learned to read and write, has seen and heard a great deal of the world, the wishes they hold in their hearts will no longer be satisfied by merely having enough to eat and wear.”
“Is that wrong?” Xiao Nan was more puzzled than ever.
“No. That is absolutely right.” Pei Shaohuai said, “Only, there are those who wish for people to remain ignorant.”
“Those people are terrible.”
Pei Shaohuai said what needed to be said and left the rest for his son to ponder as he grew older. He asked: “Does Zhengguan wish that everyone could study?”
Xiao Nan nodded.
“Then Zhengguan must first study well himself.” Pei Shaohuai said. “This is a difficult and long undertaking. Do you remember what Father told you about the mayfly that is born at dawn and dies at dusk? If a person stays in one place forever — never leaving home, never going beyond the fields they plow — they are like the mayfly. So first, we must see to it that everyone has enough to eat and wear, and can walk out their front door, leave their home village, and go see the rivers and mountains and trees of places beyond — only then will it be possible for everyone to study.”
Eradicating illiteracy was not a matter of building a few schools and teaching a handful of people to read. It was an arduous and magnificent undertaking.
Xiao Nan hopped down from Pei Shaohuai’s knee, landing steadily on his feet, and picked up his scroll again. “Then I’ll keep studying, Father. Go to Elder Sister’s study now.”
Pei Shaohuai could not quite say why he had spoken to his son of all these things. Perhaps he feared that if he had wagered wrongly, there would be no more opportunity to properly guide his son — that was all.
……
That night, in the bedchamber.
Pei Shaohuai kissed his wife’s forehead and asked: “Are you cold?”
“The wind has picked up tonight, so yes, a little cold.” Yang Shiyue answered.
Pei Shaohuai pulled the blanket higher and said: “Then move a little closer to me. Haven’t you always said I run warm?”
Once Yang Shiyue had moved over, Pei Shaohuai spoke in a calm, measured tone: “The situation at court is unsettled right now. If something should happen to me, or if the Pei family finds itself in peril, take Zhengguan and Yunci back to the Yang household with you…”
The Yang estate was a family of distinguished standing going back six dynasties. Not many among them currently held high posts at court, but their reputation was far-reaching.
Even in the worst possible outcome — even if dynasties changed — a new ruler seeking the world’s recognition would first need to secure the endorsement of the old noble clans. The Yang household was very much among them.
“Husband… what do you mean?” Yang Shiyue’s voice suddenly filled with fear.
“I am speaking of hypotheticals,” Pei Shaohuai reassured her.
“Why speak of such hypotheticals out of nowhere?” Yang Shiyue’s thoughts were more sensitive than most.
“I have never kept the situation at court from you. The Emperor’s intentions are difficult to read; the Empress and the Prince of Huai have made their ambitions in the succession struggle plain for all to see. How is any of that ‘out of nowhere’?” Pei Shaohuai deflected, then gently stroked his wife’s back in comfort. “Don’t overthink it. I was only saying it in passing… let’s rest together now. There is morning court tomorrow.”