The matter was significant, and Zhù Ying decided to question this village head more carefully.
She said to Li the Legal Registrar: “You’ve worked hard — go change your clothes and come back.”
Li the Legal Registrar, having captured two people in a row — even though the second hadn’t been the main target, he’d still caught the accomplice — was riding high on excitement. Hearing the instruction, he said enthusiastically: “Yes!” He went out of the yamen and got a few curious looks from passersby, then jogged back home and was immediately scolded by his wife: “Where did you go to consort with a loose woman? Let her strip your clothes off you?”
Li the Legal Registrar was wrongfully accused, boiling over with grievance. On top of everything else, he got into a furious argument with his wife, nearly coming to blows.
When the quarrel finally wound down, his wife said with lingering suspicion: “And you still have to go to work today?”
Only then did Li the Legal Registrar’s excitement wear off, and he realized with a start: how is it that I still have to go in to work?
He went out looking crestfallen. On the street he had to hold his head high again, and by the time he crossed the threshold of the yamen gates, his expression was all fervor and resolve — when a superior is working, you had best not play dead in front of her.
He went to see Zhù Ying, and her next sentence made him want to spit blood. Zhù Ying said: “Does the fugitive have any family back home? Brothers? Go bring his brother in.”
He had to run another errand? Li the Legal Registrar put on a show of enthusiasm: “Yes!”
Zhù Ying meanwhile turned her full attention to the village head.
The village head was half scared to death. Nanfu was not sure what good fortune had befallen it, to have such a prefect paired with such a deputy magistrate. The village head considered himself a man of some means; looking at Zhang Jiong was like waiting for the man to hit you at any moment; looking at Zhù Ying, nothing good seemed forthcoming either. He complained miserably: “Daren, I was foolish — he had his old mother crying at me, saying she just wanted one reunion before the year was out, so I thought I would let him stay and report him after the holiday.”
As he spoke and spoke, the village head broke into genuine tears. Who had he offended? He had tried to do a good deed and this ungrateful wretch had burned down his house! If he had known, he would never have let him stay!
Zhù Ying said to the Legal Registrar’s assistant beside her: “Tell him what kind of person gets a wanted circular issued.”
The Legal Registrar’s assistant had been expecting a day off today and had come out early because he heard Li the Legal Registrar had come back in a disheveled state. He had stopped in out of curiosity, only to get conscripted. He had no patience for the village head: “Anyone for whom a wanted circular can be issued has to have at least a murder on his hands!”
Zhù Ying said: “He still wanted to have a reunion? Someone has already been killed by him — they will never have another reunion. Oh — because the dead person isn’t your relative, it doesn’t concern you? I care! It concerns me!”
The village head saw her reaching for a punishment token to hand down blows and was terrified, quickly saying: “I would never dare again!”
Zhù Ying said: “Tell me — where did he go?”
“Into the mountains…”
“Don’t speak nonsense! Did you follow him in? Did you watch him go in?”
The village head hastened to say: “I didn’t see him, but it’s nine chances in ten he went there! He’s done it before — gone into the mountains whenever things got bad. Slippery as they come; even though he’s not what you’d call steady, he can take hardships sometimes, sniff out some mountain goods to trade, make a bit of money to live it up for a while. He has a hideout up there.”
Zhù Ying said: “I’ll take your word for it.”
Just as the village head’s heart was settling, her next sentence snatched it right back up. Zhù Ying said: “If we don’t find him in the mountains, we’ll hold you responsible for producing him!”
The village head collapsed to the ground: “Daren, this is a grave injustice!”
Zhù Ying ordered him taken to the cells to wait. Li the Legal Registrar, in a whirlwind of efficiency this time around, brought the fugitive’s brother back within half a day — fearing that he might be ambushed again in the village, he brought half the yamen’s runners with him and yanked the man out in one move. The fugitive’s old mother chased after them and was intercepted by a runner who shoved her toward the village head’s wife: “Stop making a scene over nothing!”
Li the Legal Registrar brought the man straight back to the city. This time his return was a triumphant one — it was not yet curfew, and he arrived just in time for Zhù Ying to conduct another interrogation that same evening. Zhù Ying saw that Li the Legal Registrar, though his head had been smoking from the running, spoke clearly and coherently, while the runners who had gone with him on two legs were exhausted. She first said: “Ding Gui — tell Director Wang to record a merit for each of them. Tomorrow, all those who went out on this errand get one day’s rest.”
The runners managed tired smiles as they left the yamen. Li the Legal Registrar still had to assist in the interrogation. Sima Zhang, having noticed all the commotion in the yamen, also came over. Seeing the situation, he asked: “The two for whom the wanted circulars were issued — were they found?”
Zhù Ying said: “One. The other just fled, and nearly cost Li the Legal Registrar his life.”
Li the Legal Registrar immediately stepped forward with a flood of high-minded words, as though the person who had run back covered in grime was not him at all.
Sima Zhang said: “Prefect’s methods are brilliant!” Staking out homes over the New Year was a little underhanded, but was also genuinely effective.
Zhù Ying invited him to join in the interrogation. Sima Zhang said: “I will simply observe.”
The fugitive’s brother did not appear to be the criminal sort himself — also with a face full of despondency. Zhù Ying said: “Do you want both brothers in prison with your mother left with no one to care for her, or do you want to look after her and live a decent life?”
The brother did not hesitate long before giving up the fugitive: “He came back on New Year’s Eve, said he’d stay a few days to feel out the situation. I never expected… none of us expected him to be bold enough to set a fire. We were all frightened too.” He still had his own worries — they were all from the same village; burning the village head’s house? How would he manage going forward? If the village head decided to make trouble, where would he turn? Then again, if the fugitive were caught and his sentence resolved, his own culpability would be greatly reduced. At worst, he would face some resentment and hard looks. Otherwise, with the fugitive on the run, all the ill will would fall on him.
He confirmed what the village head had said: his brother was someone who would run into the mountains, because ordinary people would not follow there, and it was easier to hide.
Zhù Ying said: “If you hear anything of his whereabouts, come forward and report it.”
“I wouldn’t dare hide it again! Only, my mother…”
Zhù Ying said: “There is always a way. Go home and talk her around. If not, I’ll have her brought in on charges of harboring a fugitive as well.”
“No no no! Daren have mercy!”
Zhù Ying waved them off, then had the village head brought in too. She scolded both of them: “What were you thinking? He only kills outsiders — is that it? He won’t kill you? I am holding you two responsible: watch carefully, and if he comes back, report to me immediately.”
She could not openly convict them for concealing — they were family, and concealment was understandable, even arguably lawful.
Sima Zhang, once the questioning was over, said: “Would she send men to search the mountain? Too few, and they would be unlikely to catch him; too many, and that might not be appropriate. This criminal is truly cunning!” Because of past events of a certain kind, the court was quite cautious about “entering the mountains.” Catching a criminal in the mountains generally called for a “mountain sweep” — if the local yamen runners were not enough, they could conscript able-bodied local men, gather a hundred or several hundred people with torches and pitch-forks and sticks to search. The mountains near Nanfu were not suited to that: first, the terrain was so vast and the hiding places so abundant that a hundred men going in were like two sesame seeds dropped on the ground; second, the territory had owners, and sending hundreds or thousands of people in might alarm the mountain people who would take it for an act of war, bringing yet another round of trouble.
Zhù Ying said: “Being cramped up like this is not a lasting solution. But making a big commotion really is out of the question. Let me think further.”
She had already thought it through. As for the court’s and the “mountain peoples'” current situation, she had also formed her own assessment. She had previously known only that the court did not want trouble, but observing the interactions between the various tribes and Nanfu, the other side apparently did not dare to start a serious conflict with the court either. Neither side could casually push deep into the other’s territory, and so they muddled along in this foggy impasse. Both sides were no pushovers. The old blood feud — without cutting off every last topknot and sacrificing them all to the heavens, it was simply unresolvable. The current peace meant that the strength was not there. So both sides rubbed along without being able to move decisively against the other.
Zhù Ying said to Sima Zhang: “At any rate, one has already been caught.”
Sima Zhang said: “Exactly! The other will follow soon enough. The deep wilderness — how long can a ruffian last? When he can’t bear it anymore, he’ll come down. In the meantime we must warn the people to be vigilant so he doesn’t cause harm when he descends the mountain.”
Zhù Ying said: “Well said — issue a notice to all counties to be on watch.”
Nanping County had its share of mountains; going further west, there were more. The Liji people lived there. On the border between Nanping and Sicheng County, and on Sicheng County’s western side, there was a stretch where the boundary touched Liji territory. The situation was the same as the previous “borderland” between Fulu County and Asu County — the boundaries were not clearly drawn. Both counties would need to be alert.
Zhù Ying also calculated: the two sides — that is, herself and the neighboring tribes — were essentially evenly matched, with small frictions between them, and neither would want to let things escalate. Judging from the situation of mutual raiding, enslaving, and kidnapping, alongside the continued presence of tribal merchants at the market, it was all small-scale posturing; things would not generally spiral out of control. It was not a matter of sitting there absorbing blows without fighting back. A fugitive running into the mountains could not simply be left there without being apprehended.
Only it required a great deal of skill in how she handled it.
She did not dispatch Li the Legal Registrar on another errand — he had run himself ragged, and what came next was her own business. Li the Legal Registrar let out a great sigh of relief; he had been dreading that Zhù Ying would send him into the mountains, which he would have preferred rolling around on the yamen floor to doing. Since he was not dispatched, he also sped away in a hurry, afraid Zhù Ying might think of something else.
……
Zhù Ying did not send Li the Legal Registrar on another errand. First, the man was already run ragged; and second, what came next was her own affair.
That very day, she made no move. That evening, Gu Tong, Xiang An, and Xiang Le — those who had gone home for the New Year — all returned. Su Zhe was to stay at home a while longer and had not come back yet. They each brought gifts to hand out; Gu Tong had brought particularly many. Xiang An was thorough as always — not only did she have something for each person, she had also specially prepared a new dressing case for Hu Shijie.
Qiao’er came back that evening, bringing a great many home-made foods. It made Widow Lin and the others sincerely suspicious of whether Qiao’er’s father had been helping himself to the yamen kitchen.
On their return, there was a pleasant benefit as well: Zhù Ying had instructed Master Tang to make a good quantity of sugar, and gave everyone a packet to enjoy.
Gu Tong sucked on a piece of sugar and said: “I knew it — there’s always something good when I come back! Teacher, what are we doing tomorrow?”
Zhù Ying said: “You — starting tomorrow, begin teaching Xiao Wu some literary composition.” Xiao Wu’s official documents were passable, and the man had a kind of oily cleverness about him; for memorials requiring real style, he would need a bit more schooling.
Gu Tong said: “He’s busy with duties in the daytime — I’ll teach him in the evenings. What are we doing in the daytime?”
“Going to the market,” Zhù Ying said.
The next day the yamen officially resumed business. With half her people on leave, Zhù Ying did not stir things up, simply saying: “Tidy up and prepare to get back to work,” and dismissed the officials and staff. She then summoned Director Wang and reminded him again to record the merit for Li the Legal Registrar and the others who had worked the case over the New Year.
Then she went to the rear quarters, changed her clothes, and without sending anyone else, personally took Hammer and Stone to the market herself. This attracted no particular suspicion from anyone — who didn’t go out with a couple of servants?
Xiang An and Xiang Le followed along, and Gu Tong naturally kept close at her side. Seeing the two small children, he thought: Teacher finally has a couple of small attendants following her — no one can say she’s being careless anymore.
Zhù Ying had brought the two children for better dealings. This day, the market had fully reopened. Because of the Crown Prince’s situation, certain transactions were still suspended. Zhù Ying had come for two purposes: first, to personally assess — small businesses dreaded unsold stock and stagnant capital; if small traders had accumulated too many goods, the yamen would use public funds to buy it at cost, to be resold the following year, giving them working capital. Second, she was here about the “mountain peoples.”
There were Liji traders at this market, and Qixia traders as well, along with a few others. Zhù Ying had to see it for herself before she could form a real impression.
She first took the two children to Qiu Wen’s shop. Qiu Wen’s face glowed with pleasure. Zhù Ying said: “The market has reopened — auspicious beginnings!”
Qiu Wen clasped his hands: “Auspicious! Auspicious!”
He had had a mixed New Year — good in that his whole family had spent it in the prefecture city, which felt safer than past years, with none of the usual ruffians and pickpockets making trouble. Not so good in that he had cut off ties to the mountain and had no close friends in the lowlands, no one to visit, which left things a little quiet and lonely.
With the market open, life returned to its rhythm, and Qiu Wen was quite cheerful.
When Zhù Ying arrived, he was sharing things out with the neighboring stalls. Zhù Ying said: “Generous of you.”
Qiu Wen said: “These are things that didn’t sell before the holiday — once the market closed, I set up a small stand along one of the side streets for a few days to sell off odds and ends. Didn’t sell much, so better to just give them away.”
This was a custom in many places: though the market was closed, one particular street in the city would become a “stall street” during the holiday, with all sorts of vendors setting up small stands — country people bringing a few homemade trinkets or the last bit of produce from their homes to sell. People coming in from surrounding villages to do their New Year shopping also bought things here. Generally it ran for three days. Nanfu was no exception.
Zhù Ying bought two small carved wooden figures, one for Stone and one for Hammer. She also made a circuit of the market and said: “Anyone experiencing market disruptions can come and tell me.”
Qiu Wen said: “Things have been quite good already.”
Zhù Ying nodded. Qiu Wen was particularly warm toward Hammer and Stone; seeing this, Zhù Ying said: “Since you’re fond of these two, let them play at your stall for a little while.” She herself walked over to the shop opposite. The game stall across the way had also opened.
Qiu Wen watched Zhù Ying enter the shop opposite, then asked Hammer and Stone: “How did you come to be at Daren’s side?”
Stone said: “Daren took us.”
Qiu Wen saw that Stone couldn’t explain clearly and asked Hammer instead.
Hammer thought there was nothing in his own origins that could not be spoken of, so he told the story. Qiu Wen suddenly became even warmer: “Is that so? You — be quick on your feet, do whatever Daren says, and if you can stay, never go back.”
“I won’t go back,” Hammer said.
“Exactly! The mountain means nothing but hunger and slaughter — what’s good about it?”
Hammer was still young, and after chatting for a while and having his ears filled with the “senior’s lessons,” he began thinking of his own small difficulties. He ventured to ask this “senior’s” advice. He had two worries at present. The first was what Qiu Wen had just mentioned — “staying.” Living in the household with Su Zhe, and after their fight, he felt vulnerable, fearing he might be driven away. The second was that he wanted a “lowland name.”
“Su Zhe has a name, and I don’t. I’m different from the others in the household,” Hammer said.
Qiu Wen listened carefully: “Then just ask Daren directly for a name! Whoever gives you your name will be more closely bonded to you! Don’t pay attention to others — just follow Daren. Daren teaches you to read and write, same as everyone else, doesn’t she?”
Hammer thought: I was already planning to ask Daren for a name. The two of them were in full agreement, and Qiu Wen stuffed a large packet of roasted chestnuts into Hammer’s and Stone’s hands: “Go quickly, stay close to Daren, be quick and diligent.”
Hammer decided to handle this immediately. Clutching the chestnuts, he dragged Stone and ran straight across to the other side.
Across the way, Zhù Ying was chatting with the elder. The elder had family and looked to be in good spirits. The mountain people’s calendar differed from the lowlands’, and it was not currently a mountain festival; with the lowland market closed, he had gone back to the mountain to stay with his children and grandchildren for a while, returning when the market reopened.
Zhù Ying smiled and asked: “No longer afraid of danger?”
The elder said: “It’s not a major festival, and there’s no great cause — no need for my head.”
Zhù Ying said: “There might be other dangers, though.” She seemed to recall something and asked the elder: “Your son on the mountain — is he only a hunter? Does he ever venture alone into the mountains? Please remind him to be very careful.”
The elder said proudly: “He is the finest hunter! Every time the headman organizes a hunt, he brings in the most. The girls all like to sing with him.”
Gu Tong said: “While you were away, there was a criminal here who seems to have fled into the mountains. When you see your son, please tell him to take care.”
The elder asked quickly: “Is he very dangerous?”
“He has killed before.”
The elder was slightly taken aback: “Thank you for the warning.”
Zhù Ying then, as if it were an afterthought, asked: “Would your family have any standing with the headman of your village? If so, please tell him — if you happen to encounter this person, capture and turn him over to me, so as to prevent him from becoming a menace in the mountains. Even if it is not convenient to capture him on my behalf, please do not take him in.”
The elder hastily said: “Of course.”
Zhù Ying patted Hammer’s head and said: “Your son is a fine hunter. I’d like to meet him sometime — and I’d like to ask him to teach this child.”
Hammer’s small face was filled with tension; he was deeply uneasy, and inched closer to Zhù Ying’s side. The elder looked at Hammer, thinking of the story he’d heard — that this child had also come from a mountain village.
The elder handed Hammer a small top and said nothing more.
Zhù Ying appeared to have said it only in passing. She took everyone on a further stroll, and by the time she returned to the yamen, half a cart’s worth of small trinkets came back with her. Some edibles were left for the kitchen for Qiao’er and Widow Lin to sort out; the rest were distributed among everyone. There were some crudely made hairpins, some ancient-looking carved figurines, small floral patterned cloth kerchiefs, and the like.
After distributing everything, Zhù Ying returned to her study and unrolled a map for careful study. It had been compiled from sketches and intelligence provided by Zhao Su and Su Mingluan, supplemented by information drawn from Huang the Twelfth and the Liji servants’ accounts, cross-referenced against some court records, to produce a rough map of the surrounding area. Zhù Ying focused her attention on the sections concerning the Liji people.
Like all maps, this one was not particularly precise — no detailed surveys had ever been conducted. The Qixia people’s descriptions of the Liji were vague, and the Liji servants, being illiterate, could only offer comparisons like “seven hilltops that belong to the same family.” The most specific data, paradoxically, came from a few bold merchants, who could at least mark down certain products. But even that was imperfect. Mountain paths wound and doubled back; “three days’ mountain travel, at thirty li per day” did not translate straightforwardly into an estimate of the area’s actual size.
Everything was approximate.
Better something than nothing. She had drawn a rough map as best she could.
The Liji territory had some interesting geography. To its north lay a great river, with sheer mountain cliffs on both banks — making it a natural and unmistakable boundary separating it from the court’s territory to the north. The same river, turning a bend, was then channeled and cut to supply part of the canal waterway that Zhù Ying had traveled by boat on her journey to the capital.
In a sense, these “mountain peoples” were walled off from the “human world” by water and mountains.
Zhù Ying reached out and traced a finger over the map, drawing a long narrow circle over one patch. She asked Gu Tong: “Are there any good dogs in Nanfu?”
Gu Tong started: “Teacher means…”
“I haven’t had a free moment until now — I’d like to go on a hunt this year.”
Gu Tong laughed: “There are! Over toward the mountain areas there are hunters too! Hire a few and you’d have everything you need — they can set traps as well! After the wheat harvest, before spring planting, no risk of trampling the crops, the weather will have warmed, and the animals will be out — perfect timing for…” He paused. “Hm? Hammer?”
Hammer had been trying to slip quietly into the doorway but was spotted by Gu Tong. Zhù Ying asked: “What is it?”
Caught in the act, Hammer came out boldly, and stepping to one side, pulled Stone out with him. Both entered the study. Stone was somewhat bewildered and somewhat bashful, and kept looking at Hammer. Hammer swallowed hard and gave Zhù Ying a bow, then said: “Daren — I have something to ask.”
“Come in and say it.”
Hammer reached to one side and produced Stone. The two of them went in together. Stone looked blank and a little uneasy, glancing at Hammer constantly. Hammer took a forceful swallow, bowed to Zhù Ying, and said: “Daren — could you give us names? Like, well, like the proprietor Qiu.”
Zhù Ying looked at him with interest. She had always felt a natural fondness for Hammer, but she had judged by her own standards and had not arranged too much for him on her own initiative. Now that Hammer had raised it himself, he had clearly been influenced by Qiu Wen. Qiu Wen’s background, looking more closely, did not seem to be from the poorest stratum of the Liji people — he had suffered harm within the tribe and had thus come to find certain mountain customs truly reprehensible.
Qiu Wen also had a sharp mind: literate, capable in business. A man like that — his potential in the Liji people should not be limited to being a merchant. Given that Qiu Wen and Hammer were of the same tribe, their closeness was natural, and Qiu Wen’s views would have some influence on Hammer, prompting this request.
Zhù Ying said: “Is this your own idea, or did Qiu Wen tell you to do this?”
“I was already thinking it myself — he said it was a good idea too.” Hammer’s heart was tense. He did not want to go back to the mountain, and he did not want to leave Zhù Ying.
Zhù Ying said: “Be honest — is it because of Su Zhe?”
After his fight with Su Zhe, the child had been carrying a certain anxiety about him, and since Su Zhe left, over these past New Year days he had been like a bird released from a cage, boundlessly energetic, his laughter harder to stop than to start.
Hammer’s tension surfaced faintly: “No — well — not exactly…”
“I wouldn’t drive you away even if you used your old name.”
Hammer said: “I still want one.”
Zhù Ying did not want to make things difficult for a child, and said: “All right. A name it is.”
Gu Tong naturally assumed that Hammer’s name should be given by Zhù Ying, and laughed: “Teacher should grant him a name. Hey, Hammer — what is your surname?”
Hammer said: “I… take Daren’s surname. And — and Stone too; both of us together — we agreed.”
Gu Tong found no issue with this. Servants taking their master’s surname was common enough and showed closeness. A child raised from small — truly useful.
Zhù Ying said: “You don’t remember your own family name?”
Hammer shook his head. He had no real memory of it. Zhù Ying said: “All right, then.”
She had once considered taking Hammer on as a student, and giving him a name while keeping him in her household was not out of place. She thought for a moment, then said: “For Stone, let’s choose a character with few strokes.”
Keeping some trace of their old names in the new ones, Stone would be called Zhù Shi — the character for “stone,” homophonous with an auspicious word, a most fortunate sound. Hammer’s name, she looked at the two of them and thought: he’s a quick learner, so a few more strokes wouldn’t hurt.
“Tempered through a hundred trials.” Zhù Ying said to Hammer. “Young as you are, you have already endured much hardship. Let that hardship not be wasted.”
She wrote down both names, one on each sheet of paper, and let them copy them down. Zhù Shi was slow with characters but recognized his own, and accepted the paper with delight. Hammer — now Zhù Lian — held his paper and studied it carefully, then nodded with great solemnity.
Zhù Ying patted both their heads and said: “Can you relax now?”
Zhù Lian smiled slightly. Zhù Ying crooked her little finger and held it out to him: “There — you two work hard and study hard, and stay home properly.”
Zhù Lian felt a great relief settle over him. He held out his small finger and hooked it around hers. Zhù Shi also quickly held out his own little finger: “And me too.”
The three of them linked fingers, as if sharing a small secret. Zhù Ying said: “Go and memorize your lessons.” At her own age she had wanted most of all to be able to read and study, and so it was only natural she would have Hammer study. As for Stone — she admitted she had perhaps somewhat neglected him. Hammer had already memorized all the character songs; now he was working to fix them in his memory. She planned to introduce history texts for his foundational education rather than the canonical Five Classics. And she would not go through the history in order — instead picking out several passages, a few stories, letting Hammer draw moral lessons from them. Together with some arithmetic and the six arts, and after a few years of this, she would then have him read the canonical texts.
For Su Zhe, she intended to teach her the same way. The first text she had already chosen was the “Biographies of Chen She.” Teach them all to be model Confucian subjects, and what would she be there for? In her hands, the very first lesson had to be: “Kings and nobles — is their nobility born in them?”
When Su Zhe returned from the mountain, these two little creatures would be classmates! As for seniority and generation — let each work that out on their own terms.
Zhù Lian happily pulled Stone along and left. Gu Tong said: “That little one has real luck — Teacher took a liking to him.”
Zhù Ying said: “He’s the one who puts in the effort. But speaking of you — half a year has gone by. You’ve touched on all the departments. Do you feel confident enough?”
“Heh heh — as a student, still a little short.”
Zhù Ying said: “Don’t smirk. I’m speaking seriously — you can’t stay by my side forever.”
“But Teacher still needs someone reliable for written work. Xiang Er and his sister and Hu Niangzi are all good for martial matters — for documents and correspondence, you need someone to run them, don’t you?”
Zhù Ying said: “All right. Keep reviewing your books, and in a few days come with me to observe the prefectural school’s selection examination.” She hoped to see Gu Tong placed into an official post during her tenure as prefect. Gu Tong was a proper scholar; starting as a formal official, and young, his prospects would be better. As her first “student,” she would give him special attention.
A local official’s duties extended beyond the six departments — schools also required attention. Gu Tong had previously only been a student and had no experience in administration. Zhù Ying brought him along to the prefectural school.
The examination had been delayed and was only now proceeding. Zhù Ying, following her own approach, had reserved quota spots for each county, with the remaining places open to examination. To this end she had taken pains to persuade the students of Nanping County. It was a pity Jing Gang had already left; otherwise he might have come along to grade papers.
Candidates gathered first in the prefecture city, some arriving early, some only by the day of the examination. The examination itself followed Zhù Ying’s previous method: names concealed, graded on each category. Final scores were calculated in aggregate.
Zou Jinxian and the others were quite happy to accept the concealed-names system — they had always believed that the students of the prefecture city, i.e., Nanping County, outperformed those of the other three counties in genuine ability. Once the names were revealed, it was indeed their group that dominated. Zou Jinxian and the others felt a great deal of self-satisfaction.
Likewise, students from the other counties who came in through examination rather than quota felt it was easier to be accepted by their peers this way.
What surprised Zou Jinxian was that among the Fulu County students, two had made it in through the general examination, in addition to their reserved quota spots. Zhao Zhen beside him said proudly: “The seeds Teacher planted in Fulu County have borne fruit!” And he went on boasting for a good while.
Zhù Ying shot him a glance and he quickly ducked his head.
Zhù Ying’s policy toward the prefectural school students mirrored what she had done with Fulu County school students: performance-based stipends. She set new rules: examinations determining a ranking, with the first place receiving a certain amount of money and cloth, the second place receiving less, the third less still; one first place, two second places, three third places. Bedding was also provided; paper and brushes were supplied each season. Similarly, the management rules were stricter, and the rules for expulsion more stringent.
There would be no harvest season holidays for prefectural school students.
By the time all this was settled, the first month had passed and the new academic year formally began in the second month.
At this point, the elder from the market brought his son to find their way to the yamen one morning at the start of the second month, saying they had come looking for Hammer and Stone. The two children, though they now had new names, were still called by their old nicknames within the household. On hearing someone was looking for them, they were directed to the rear quarters.
Zhù Lian came running out. The elder said: “You’ve grown taller again.”
Zhù Lian stood on tiptoe. The elder’s son stroked his beard with a smile — a ruddy-faced middle-aged man, with a full beard. The elder said: “The message you asked us to pass on, Daren — we passed it on. There is a reply. Daren has been busy these past few days and hasn’t been to the market, so I’ve come in person to report.”
Zhù Lian said: “I’ll go report to Daren!”
He came trotting in and then trotted back out: “Daren asks you to come in and speak.”
Zhù Ying received them in the office and spoke to them in the Liji language. She was meeting the elder’s son for the first time; watching his gait and posture from a distance, then looking him over close up from head to toe, she formed a preliminary impression. She had seen the poor and enslaved in Asu’s mountain village, and the Liji’s situation was likely similar — which meant that this middle-aged man, like Qiu Wen, lived a modestly comfortable life by mountain village standards.
She said: “You’ve taken the trouble.”
The other side exchanged a few pleasantries in return. Zhù Ying asked the middle-aged man’s name. The man’s name meant “wolf.”
Wolf-brother had brought the headman’s words. The headman had said “each household manages its own affairs.” Wolf-brother relayed to Zhù Ying: “The headman says he will manage his own village.”
Zhù Ying thought: so they won’t extradite him. Very well — I already passed the message. She said: “That is all right, then.” She had gifts of money and cloth brought out to give to the father and son as thanks.
The father and son would only accept a small portion of the cloth. The elder said: “He walked a long way. One pair of shoes would be enough.”
Zhù Ying gave him two bolts of cloth: “We haven’t caught the criminal yet — you may need to make another trip.”
She then had Gu Tong and Zhù Lian escort the two of them out.
Gu Tong returned with Zhù Lian, and both looked at her with expectant eyes. Zhù Ying said: “What are you staring at me for? This isn’t like hitting someone — where you’d hear the crack the moment your palm landed. Patience is needed.”
Zhù Lian said: “Then… I’ll go write my characters.”
Gu Tong saw that Zhù Ying looked as though she were about to write a memorial and quickly stepped forward to lay out ink and paper: “Teacher — are you submitting a memorial about the Liji people to the court? Are you opening a trading market for them first, like before? The way they sound, they don’t seem very keen on the idea. Isn’t it a bit early?”
“Not them,” Zhù Ying said.
What she was writing was a request to the National Academy for additional quota spaces. The reactions of the prefectural school’s students had reminded her: if she tried to carve out reserved quota spots from within existing allocations, people would immediately object. So now she was thinking bigger — have the National Academy expand its intake! The existing quotas would be left largely untouched.
The densely populated prefectures governed counties directly; nationally there were around nine hundred counties, with fewer than a hundred prefectures and administrative units at that level. If each county got two spots, the numbers would be enormous. But on a prefecture-by-prefecture basis, two places per prefecture would mean roughly two hundred additional students — a number the court could likely accept.
Her reasoning was already prepared: bringing the distant frontier into the embrace of civilizing influence. She would invoke the example of Fulu County — before her time, even the textbooks there had contained errors. What kind of “transformation by civilization” was that? What loyalty could such a place feel toward the court?
She also intended to continue writing to Wang Yunhe, reiterating her position: “Only through participation can genuine feeling be cultivated.” With no direct connection to the court beyond tax payments — and often ending up in arrears on those — why would anyone develop affection for it?
She also wrote separately to Zheng Xi and others — both to keep them informed, and to make her request. Now that Zheng Xi was Minister of Rites and his brother-in-law was still at the National Academy, this fell right into their hands. Why wait?
She also wrote to Chen Luan and others setting out her thoughts, and directed Zhao Su to be prepared — in case anyone asked, he should have a response ready.
This memorial took Zhù Ying several weeks of careful word-by-word revision through three drafts before she was satisfied.
When it was done, she was in no hurry to dispatch it to the capital — the wheat harvest had begun!
Zhù Ying paid close attention to this wheat harvest. The winter wheat in Nanfu had been planted across three-quarters of the total grain land: nearly all of Fulu and Sicheng counties, and just over half of Nanping and He’dong. Now was the time to reap. She set aside everything else and devoted herself entirely to coordinating the harvest across all areas. Whether it was the reaping, drying, storing, or anything else — any problem could be fed back to the yamen at any time.
When the harvest was complete and the counties reported their per-acre yields, the figures were close to Zhù Ying’s projections. She first submitted a memorial reporting the harvest results; this autumn Nanfu would be able to plant the winter wheat in full, and if she could see through to the harvest next year without problems, things would be essentially secure.
The memorial reached the capital, and Xian Jing was overjoyed. Three-quarters — that was practically equivalent to a full planting! Heaven and earth knew how many years he had been waiting for this. If things had not come through soon, he would have been transferred out of the Ministry of Finance to watch someone else reap the credit!
Wang Yunhe and Shi Kun were also delighted — the two of them actually jumped up. Shi Kun laughed loudly: “All those years of sending people out from the capital, and finally there is fruit!”
The newly appointed Chief Minister Zhong Yi, watching this, stroked his beard and smiled, thinking: who would have imagined that wretched poor child would become a pillar of the court.
For their part, Zheng Xi and the Leng Marquis were also very pleased. Zheng Xi was pleased that Zhù Ying had braved hardship and produced results; the Leng Marquis was pleased because his son Cold Yun had also submitted a report — with Nanfu’s success, combined with the other two prefectures, it amounted to Cold Yun’s half-success. Director Dong had, after all, been thorough; he had been watching over Cold Yun and noticed that the land slightly further south was not very suited to wheat, and had filed a request to trial two rice harvests per year. That was his own initiative, which made the Leng Marquis even happier!
Even the Emperor found himself in a rare moment of pleasure: “Good — things have gone fairly smoothly!” He issued an edict rewarding Zhù Ying with brocade garments, a court belt, and other gifts.
The reward was still on its way when Zhù Ying’s letters and new memorial arrived at the capital. She was requesting two additional quota spots for every remote prefecture and region across the realm.
Needless to say, there would be debate at court. This was the kind of matter that could drag on for a year and a half; passing it even the following year would be considered fast.
She submitted the memorial and put the matter aside. She said to Gu Tong: “Let’s go! We’re going hunting!”
Gu Tong had assumed they would be going to the outskirts of the city to bag a few rabbits and wild chickens. He had not expected Zhù Ying to bring tents and camping gear, walking further and further until the mountains came into view.
Gu Tong was astonished: “Teacher — where exactly are we going hunting?”
Zhù Ying smiled: “Into the mountains.”