Zhù Ying stepped out of the Ministry of Personnel. It was not yet the end of the working day; the Imperial City was still full of people coming and going, all of them in a hurry. Year’s end was approaching fast; everyone was busy, and some New Year decorations had already begun to go up. New Year was almost here — the Zhù household still had no decorations, and Zhù Ying was thinking she would need to make the residence look respectable for the holiday.

She wondered how things were back home in Wuzhou…

Lost in thought as she walked, Zhù Ying had not turned toward the Grand Secretariat — the people there were also in the thick of things right now, and since Wang Yunhe was not on duty this evening, going to his home tonight would be more suitable than going to the Grand Secretariat now.

Walking along, Zhù Ying suddenly looked up, and sure enough — not far ahead, someone was coming in her direction. What a coincidence: she knew this person too — Prefect Lu.

Five paces separated them, and the place had changed while the person had too.

Prefect Lu, looking at Zhù Ying dressed in her crimson robes, felt the weight of the past rise up all at once. In the end, everything condensed into a single sigh, and he smiled gently at the young person before him.

Zhù Ying looked at Prefect Lu — five paces, close enough to see clearly that his beard and hair had gone a little whiter. His build was still fairly solid; if anything, he was slightly more portly than before. His subordinates, it seemed, were not as troublesome as her, and his posting was a rather more comfortable one: his days had evidently been quite easy.

Neither had any attendants in the Imperial City. Zhù Ying was the first to bow deeply to Prefect Lu. Prefect Lu immediately stepped forward two paces to return a half-bow and helped Zhù Ying straighten up: “Zichang — it has been a long time.”

Zhù Ying looked up and met his eyes. “You are still well and vigorous — it is genuinely gratifying.”

The two were like a pair of old friends of different generations who had been long apart, speaking of the small matters of life since they last met. Prefect Lu said, “I have grown old — not like I used to be.”

“An old steed in the stable still aspires to gallop a thousand li.” Zhù Ying offered.

Prefect Lu said, “Still, not as good as in one’s prime years.”

Zhù Ying said, “These things — one cannot say.”

Prefect Lu smiled and shook his head. “Do what lies within human power, and accept what Heaven decrees.”

Zhù Ying did not argue with him, and instead asked, “When did you arrive? Has the journey gone smoothly?”

Prefect Lu said, “I have made this trip to the capital many times by now — I manage well enough.”

“Where are you lodging? When do you return?”

Prefect Lu said, “I have a private residence here — how is that? Oh — but you are a native of the capital; you have a place to stay. I hear that Wuzhou — Wuzhou also has a guild hall here now? You must have lodgings sorted then?”

Zhù Ying answered honestly, “Yes — already settled in.” She then asked again after Prefect Lu’s address, and Prefect Lu gave a location.

Zhù Ying said, “That area is good.”

“A bit more lively.”

“It’s safe there — in the entire Metropolitan Prefecture jurisdiction, it’s one of the areas with fewer bad characters. Out of the ward gate and turn left, cross one street, and you have Chancellor Shi’s estate.”

“You truly know the capital like the back of your hand, Zichang.”

Zhù Ying said modestly, “Having lived here long enough, one inevitably picks up a few things.”

The two of them, one in red robes and one in purple, stood chatting in the open courtyard, drawing glances from passersby. Prefect Lu made a gesture; Zhù Ying understood, stepped to the side, fell half a pace behind his shoulder, and walked along with him. It seemed Prefect Lu had no pressing business left in the Imperial City today.

The two walked and talked. Prefect Lu sighed, “The past is past.”

Zhù Ying said, “I, however, can never quite forget it. These days I often reflect on myself: in my younger, more reckless years, I must have stirred up no small amount of trouble.”

Prefect Lu said with a mild smile, “You weren’t the most headache-inducing of the lot.”

“So I was at least a little troublesome then.” Zhù Ying said plainly.

The two exchanged a look and smiled. Outside the Imperial City, both still had their own things to do. Zhù Ying needed to go home and prepare before paying a visit to Wang Yunhe; Prefect Lu also had his own affairs to tend to. They took their leave of each other. Each of their attendants brought horses around; Zhù Ying’s was Xiao Liu, and Prefect Lu’s was a young servant. Zhù Ying waited until Prefect Lu had mounted before mounting herself. The two rode side by side for a short stretch, then parted and went their separate ways.

……

None of the people who had come out with Zhù Ying today recognized Prefect Lu. Xiao Wu had met Prefect Lu before, but Xiao Wu was an official now — having him run errands was one thing, but having him serve as an attendant again would not be appropriate. Whether Hu Shijie or Xiao Liu, they felt nothing in particular. Nobody talked about it on the way back, and so they missed the chance to learn about a chapter of history.

Zhù Ying went home, changed her clothes, and then brought people to the Wang household.

Wang Yunhe was not on duty tonight and was certain to be home. And Wang Yunhe was not the type to close his doors to guests and hole up in a waterside pavilion braising meat; tonight he would certainly be available — unless the Emperor had gone to the Wang household.

Zhù Ying went first to the Court of Dependencies to look in on the young ones, and especially reached out to feel Lang Rui’s forehead. Lin Feng asked curiously, “Godfather, why are you feeling his head?”

Zhù Ying said, “Playing in the snow is easy to get sick from. If you get a fever, you won’t be able to go to the fun places.”

Lang Rui said, “I’m perfectly fine!”

“All right, then play a little less — there’s even better to come.”

“Yes!”

Zhù Ying also asked if anything else had happened over the last few days. Jin Feng said, “The people next door came to the front of our place to look. It’s a pity — we couldn’t understand their words, they couldn’t understand ours, and they can’t even understand the official language!”

The corner of Zhù Ying’s mouth twitched. Those few here — official speech? Su Zhe’s was the strongest, while the others’ all had quite a regional accent. She said, “They come from very far away — speaking fluently is hard for them.”

Seeing they were fine, Zhù Ying gave a few more reminders and then went to Wang Yunhe’s home.

Wang Yunhe’s home was even livelier than others’. His iron-faced uprightness always carried a slight human warmth to it, and many people made their way to his gate. Even Prefects were willing to wait outside a while — just in case. At this time of year, people in green and blue robes could not even get into the queue. Most left a calling card, waited a little while, and then when they saw too many red and purple robes in front of them, they left in regret.

One young official in blue, watching Zhù Ying exchange pleasantries at the gate with the Wang household staff, said enviously, “If I had purple or crimson robes, I would not have to wait so long.”

The Wang household servant receiving cards glanced at him. “Even when she was a commoner, she could still see the Chancellor.”

Zhù Ying’s attendants were provided a small room to warm themselves by a fire and given tea. Zhù Ying herself was shown directly to Wang Yunhe. Zhao Zhen and the others had come along, but they too got only the small room with a fire to warm themselves. Watching as officials in green and blue were not allowed to linger, and servants waited outside in the wind, Zhao Zhen and the others felt a small surge of pride: our lord truly has face!

Zhao Zhen passed Zhù Lian a dish of fruit. “Just drinking tea without anything to eat — you’ll be running to the privy in no time. Here.”

They chatted idly. Zhao Zhen asked Zhù Lian, “You came to the capital with the lord before — do you know what it’s like inside?”

Jing Sheng and the others grew interested and all crowded around Zhù Lian fishing for details. Zhù Lian said, “I was young then and don’t remember too clearly — I only know the elder lord was extremely amiable.”

Jing Sheng and the others sighed admiringly, saying what wonderful luck Zhù Lian had — following Zhù Ying, he had shown his face before a Chancellor. Zhù Lian could not help thinking to himself: it’s a good thing I was able to stay. He looked in the direction of the door; to keep out the wind, the door had been shut, and there was no way to see Zhù Ying.

Zhù Ying had already walked into a small reception room in Wang Yunhe’s estate. This room was one she herself had helped put in order back in the day. So many years had passed, yet the general layout inside remained unchanged; only a number of objects had been replaced with newer ones. The whole room struck a peculiar balance between the new and the old — and did not feel jarring in the slightest.

After paying her respects, Wang Yunhe said, “Sit.”

Zhù Ying sat down easily. Wang Yunhe asked some routine questions about when she had arrived and what she had been doing these past days. Zhù Ying answered each in turn: “The audit has been completed. After the New Year, the Ministry of Finance and other offices will likely still want to discuss things with me — setting the coming year’s tax figures. Once that is agreed, it will be about time to go back. I am hoping to set out by the end of the first month. I won’t make it back for the winter wheat harvest, but I should catch the tail end of spring planting.”

Wang Yunhe asked, “The audit went smoothly?”

“It did.”

“And His Majesty summoned you before you went to coordinate with the Ministry of Personnel.”

Zhù Ying’s eyes curved in a smile. “His Majesty may have had a slight misunderstanding about me. I explained; it should be fine.”

Wang Yunhe raised an eyebrow. Zhù Ying said, “If I didn’t get beaten, then there shouldn’t be a problem.”

Wang Yunhe then asked her in more detail about Wuzhou’s affairs. Zhù Ying’s answers were more detailed here than what she had told the Emperor, and nothing like the simple information-checking format she used at the Ministry of Personnel or Ministry of Finance. She said, “The sugar works are running reasonably well; each household has opened branch operations, so there is no danger of one merchant getting a monopoly. There is also a government-run sugar works that can stabilize prices and prevent private operators from running wild. Letting the government step in completely kills the trade; staying out of it entirely and it goes to the sky. I am still experimenting.”

Wang Yunhe said, “Your heart was just starting to take hold of agriculture and silk production, and now it’s shifted to industry and commerce? That’s too much to focus on at once. The nation rests on the people, and the people’s foundation is food and clothing. Getting the sugar works running is fine, but things must be balanced.”

“Yes. In fact, there is another reason for emphasizing commerce and industry. I said the same thing during my imperial audience — I say it wherever I go: if Wuzhou wants to keep its people, farming alone is not enough. The land is limited, yet more people are wanted. How do you feed them? If you just barely feed them, yet the land is already not enough to farm for so many extra people — you can’t just let the extra population idle.”

Wang Yunhe quickly grasped the point and nodded.

Zhù Ying said, “Moreover, commerce has another use: when it comes to dealing with the various ethnic groups at the border, it starts with two things — war and trade. War —”

Wang Yunhe shot her a look. Zhù Ying laughed. “Isn’t that right?”

Wang Yunhe nodded. He asked, “Are the Ying, Meng, and Jin tribes still doing well? I hear you’ve brought people with you this time? All young people?”

“And two small children. Lang Rui is the youngest — seven years old.”

Wang Yunhe certainly knew about this; he could be said to handle ten thousand things a day, but Zhù Ying was someone he had high hopes for, and so he followed her affairs more closely. Zheng Xi had mentioned it just yesterday as well. Wang Yunhe asked, “Hostages?”

“Students. I have also set up a school for the various ethnic groups. It still requires a little investment from the prefecture for now, but it’s worthwhile. These people — after studying for a few years in the ethnic school — I do not intend to keep them in the lowlands. They are better sent back. If the only point were to have a few more literate people, why go to the expense of supporting them? They are only useful if they go back.”

Wang Yunhe said approvingly, “Well done. If more of them go back, and one or two from among them wish to stay, you need not drive all of them away.”

“How many more years do I have left in Wuzhou? Whatever comes after — future people will have to deal with that.”

At these words, Wang Yunhe felt a weight settle in his heart. He looked at Zhù Ying and let out a sigh. “You’ve been out long enough!” When he had sent Zhù Ying and the others out in that generation, his thinking had been about training, preserving talent, and — in part — letting the tide wash away the driftwood: whoever could make something of themselves in the provinces would be cultivated further.

Looking at it now, the most exceptional of that generation was Zhù Ying by far. The majority of the group had failed to earn even a crimson robe in ten years; Zhù Ying had made herself a Prefect.

The sifting had worked. The preserving, however…

No one had predicted that the Emperor would live so long, the Crown Prince would die so young, and Zhù Ying would be so capable. In a blink, she could not remain in Wuzhou much longer. Even if she did not come to the capital, she would need to move to a different posting — one closer to the capital, with another promotion on top of that. Then the opportunities for dealing with the various factions would multiply.

Promoted too quickly, and it would be impossible to shield her. With the succession still undecided, the Prefects from various regions would inevitably face pressure to take sides.

Somewhat alarming.

At a time of transition between old and new, mere cleverness alone was not enough to navigate.

Wang Yunhe’s thoughts moved like lightning; his voice, however, said simply, “Seventh Zheng said those children’s etiquette is more or less ready — they won’t burst out crying during the court presentation, I trust?”

“I’m keeping a close eye on them. I’ll also have them watch each other. Nothing will go wrong.”

“Mm. And what is that matter with the Wuzhou guild hall about?”

“The Prefect’s office established it with working funds. Merchants rent space, and both sides benefit. It would be improper for the government to engage in commerce directly, yet you still need to eat. Relying on merchants to run themselves back and forth, those who follow the law get shortchanged, those who break it run rampant. The guild hall provides a small measure of oversight — we know what they’re getting up to. If you’re asking about the sugar business — I’ve heard the ballads too. I brought a shipment of sugar here to help stabilize prices. Shang Peiji has stirred up popular anger; if they’re left to go on fighting it out, both sides will end up badly. There needs to be a limit. If he doesn’t know when to stop — I’ll help him stop.”

Wang Yunhe nodded.

Zhù Ying reported to him in ever greater detail. Except for the affairs of the mountain peoples, which could not be spoken of, she said everything that could be said. Of the mountains themselves, she said one sentence: “Trade with the three tribes — same principle. I’m keeping watch over that as well; I cannot let it run unchecked.”

Wang Yunhe said, “Agreed. And in your judgment — who would be suitable as the next Prefect of Wuzhou?”

Zhù Ying said, “Hard to say. When Shang Peiji came, I thought to myself: at last, a proper person has arrived. Wuzhou won’t need to be held together by officials who rose up through the clerks anymore. Hmph — he spent his parents’ estate building a memorial arch to honor himself. If it had worked out to some fame, he could at least have been called a dutiful son.”

Wang Yunhe lost his composure and burst out laughing, pointing at Zhù Ying: “You! That mouth of yours!”

Zhù Ying laughed too: “Then shall we say something nicer? I sent a book earlier — have you had a look at it?”

Wang Yunhe’s smile shifted to something different. He said, “Excellent — Old Liu was very pleased.”

“The paper was made from sugarcane pulp; the woodblocks were carved by artisans I hired — all made in Wuzhou. At one go I can print a hundred copies. The textbooks for the ethnic school are done this way. I have already arranged for every season, a hundred copies to be sent out, funded from a twentieth of the paper works’ profits — dedicated to exactly this. Across all of Wuzhou — as long as a newborn child is registered in the census records, when they turn seven years old, they will receive one copy. The classical texts and histories are too difficult, but this one is easy enough: learning characters from the beginning is not hard. Even if there is some shortage of teachers, there is no shortage of textbooks. Even if everyone ends up using them to start fires, stuff walls, or wipe themselves — if one or two impoverished children learn to read because of it, it was worthwhile. Workshop apprentices — one copy each; they must be literate.”

Wang Yunhe’s jaw dropped slightly. Then he gave the table a sharp slap. “Well done!”

Zhù Ying said, “Giving the poor a little breathing room might help things.”

Wang Yunhe said with a quiet sigh, “The intention is good, but you must also know — a poor child is never going to be an equal match for a rich man’s son. You can’t have a teacher, and schools can’t base their examinations on a song for learning characters.”

Zhù Ying said, “It’s a bit of a wild dream, I know. But never mind — what little money I have, I can still spend on this. Let’s trial it first. I saw that blind-name testing in the examinations and nobody objected — so isn’t that already perfect?”

“You still haven’t forgotten that?”

“Me — I have an excellent memory for certain things.”

Wang Yunhe laughed again. Zhù Ying said, “There’s one more thing.”

“Say it.”

“The extra copies I print each season beyond the hundred — can I sell them?”

“Hmm? Who said you couldn’t sell them?”

“Much cheaper than hand-copied books! I would absolutely not hoard them to inflate the price! Cost plus a little for transport and labor, and a small margin on top. And this was written by the Elder Liu! If we take out the preface and postscript I wrote and replace them with — well, yours — and you help arrange for those children to have a brief audience with His Majesty, and I have them recite a passage for him, and then present a copy — there needs to be a little stir before things sell well…”

“Even so, not many people with a genuine desire to read will emerge.”

“But at least some people who want to read won’t have to crouch under someone’s window listening in secret, never even seeing what a book looks like, and then get chased off by a dog. Whether it’s useful or not — I scatter this seed. If I don’t spend the money here, where do I spend it? A few books like this don’t amount to what a wastrel loses in a single night of gambling.”

She straightened the collar of her robe: “This — it’s enough to subsidize a hundred printed books and leave some left over. One less garment can subsidize a great many copies.”

Wang Yunhe stopped smiling and gave a slow nod. “I’ll arrange the audience with His Majesty. Have your people ready.”

“Excellent!” Done — the children’s New Year audience was settled!

Wang Yunhe said, “Old Liu will be very pleased. Your preface and postscript — do not take them out. I will write another one for you!” He was energized. He said he would also pull in a couple more people to write pieces.

Zhù Ying said, “That would be wonderful. You write; I’ll take it back and print it, and by next summer you’ll have the sample copy.”

Wang Yunhe laughed too. “You scatter money so freely — are you not thinking of your own living?”

“I have enough to eat.”

……

Zhù Ying returned home from Wang Yunhe’s in high spirits, having accomplished several things at once. That evening, she told Xiao Wu to go to Prefect Lu’s private residence the next morning to deliver a calling card along with a gift.

The very next morning, she still had to attend the court session, but by counting the days, it would not be many more days before everyone could have their holiday.

The New Year atmosphere grew thicker by the day. The officials who had come to the capital were gradually finishing their public business. Most of them were like students who had passed their exams — growing more and more relaxed.

Some were calculating what sort of gifts the Emperor would give for the New Year, and how much they might expect to receive.

Wang Yunhe did not raise the matter of Su Zhe and the others in court. After the session was dismissed, he specifically called out Luo Sheng’s name, asking him to stay behind — there would be words for him at the Grand Secretariat shortly. Luo Sheng had no idea why and simply agreed.

When the Emperor and Wang Yunhe were meeting on business, the Emperor asked what he was keeping his son-in-law behind for. Wang Yunhe said, “Following convention, there are sometimes disputes about the ranking order of the various tributary peoples — I wanted to ask about it.”

The Emperor summoned his son-in-law and asked. Luo Sheng had no reason to lie, and there was no reason to lie about this matter anyway; he told the whole story straightforwardly, including the brawl, adding: “It has been settled. Among themselves, they all know who is stronger and who is weaker.” Wang Yunhe then asked about the merchants who had come with the various foreign missions — foreign tributary envoys carried a habit of bringing merchants along with them. Sometimes the merchants even impersonated diplomatic delegations. The court on this side often saw through it quite clearly but largely chose to look the other way, tolerating it for the sake of the appearance of universal submission.

Luo Sheng said, “The merchants are housed in a separate area, not mixed with the general population.”

The Emperor said, “Good.”

Zheng Xi, as if it were a passing thought, asked, “The children weren’t frightened, were they?”

“What children?” The Emperor was immediately alert, thinking Zheng Xi meant his own grandchildren — children of the Yongping Princess, for instance. He was fond of the Yongping Princess, and naturally fond of her children too.

Zheng Xi said, “The ones from the south — a few children arrived, and some people have been arranged to teach them etiquette. I kept forgetting to ask.”

Luo Sheng said, “Oh! Them — they’re fine. They watched the brawl and didn’t get involved; they’re still diligently studying their etiquette.”

The Emperor impatiently asked, “Who are you talking about?”

Luo Sheng quickly explained. The Emperor said, “Children?”

Luo Sheng said, “Yes.”

The Emperor had been thinking, when looking at Zhù Ying, only in terms of “ten years of operation,” and had overlooked entirely the fact that she had brought people to pay their New Year respects. Hearing this now, he grew curious again and asked, “How is their etiquette coming along? Do they speak the language?”

Luo Sheng said, “They do.”

“Summon them.”

Zhù Ying had had no idea Wang Yunhe would move this quickly! Her plan had been to visit the Court of Dependencies during the day, and then call on some old acquaintances; that evening she intended to go to Chancellor Shi’s residence to pay her respects. Whether she saw him or not was another matter, but she had to go. If she could see him, she would. If not, she would go to Pei Qing’s and take the opportunity to discuss with Pei Qing whether he would be willing to accept a donation of five hundred copies of the literacy primer. The capital was wealthier than elsewhere; people who could mostly fill their stomachs were more numerous here. Even household servants of wealthy families were more presentable if literate.

The capital was easy to set trends.

She had barely arrived at the Court of Dependencies and seen Su Zhe holding a silver bowl inlaid with turquoise when she stopped and spent a little more time there. “You went out shopping?”

“No — I exchanged it with the neighbors. I was brewing tea, sent them a little, they came to ask, and traded this for some. Their things are not bad — it’s just their speech is a bit hard to understand. All I know is they come from the west.”

“You’re all going through ‘double-translation.’ Of course the meaning gets muddled.”

Su Zhe immediately asked, “What is double-translation?”

“It means the translation goes through two stages. Qixia speech gets translated into the official language, and then the official language gets translated into the western peoples’ tongue. The ‘west’ is relative to us and to the capital — in terms of them, they are more to the north.”

They were in the middle of a geography lesson when a messenger arrived from the palace. Zhù Ying accompanied the young ones in receiving the imperial envoy. This envoy was not a familiar acquaintance, only a face she knew vaguely. The envoy announced the imperial edict, then said to Zhù Ying, “The Chancellor requests that the Lord accompany them inside — to answer any questions that arise.”

Zhù Ying said, “Yes.”

Jin Yu jumped up: “We get to see the Emperor?”

Zhù Ying said, “You say ‘His Majesty.'”

“Oh! His Majesty!”

Zhù Ying said, “All of you put on your best clothes. Then we set off.”

She loaded the young ones into a carriage, rode horseback herself, and escorted the carriage with the imperial envoy toward the palace. When they arrived, the sun was warm. Zhù Ying led a string of heads tall and short into the great hall. As the children entered the palace city, they grew more and more astonished — their eyes did not know where to look, uncertain whether to feel nervous or excited. The small eunuchs all had to suppress their laughter.

Almost at the great hall, a small eunuch reminded her: “My lord — please do keep the little ones in check.”

Zhù Ying said, “Understood.”

The small eunuch went ahead to announce their arrival. Zhù Ying snapped her fingers at the young ones: “Wake up! We’re seeing His Majesty! Do you know what to do?”

“We know!” They said in unison.

Zhù Ying took Lang Rui’s hand. “All right then — let’s go.”

……

The young ones were a little nervous. Zhù Ying patted each of their heads in turn: “All right! Walk!”

Inside the hall, she went first to demonstrate, and the young ones followed along. Their mouths said the words: “Your subject pays respects to His Majesty,” and so forth. The exact phrasing differed slightly from what the Ministry of Rites had taught, but the Emperor was not particular about it.

The Emperor was more interested in these people’s appearances. “Their clothing —”

Zhù Ying said, “Wuzhou is hot; even in winter, snow is almost unheard of.” So the few children wore capital-style winter clothes, and from all appearances could pass for the children of wealthy families outside. Only their features revealed a slight difference from the central plains. But these were all headmen’s children, well-nourished and raised carefully — their bearing was clearly above average.

Ruler and officials were willing to trust Zhù Ying precisely because of this. One’s manner is shaped by one’s environment; few people carry a bearing noticeably different from their own origins.

The Emperor spoke with them; within a few exchanges it was apparent they truly were “headmen’s” children.

Su Zhe, though she still called her mother “A’Ma” rather than “your subject’s mother” or “this one’s mother,” could nonetheless project a sense of “one of us” when answering questions. For example: “A’Ma sent people down the mountain to study.”

The Emperor was very pleased. He said, “Your official speech is very good — how long have you been learning it?”

Su Zhe said, “I’ve studied the longest; they started later. Uncle is even more recent — he just learned the character songs, and he still writes characters wrong!”

Lang Rui thought this referred to his father Lang Kunwu and was unhappy: “My father studies beautifully! He never gets them wrong! If you’re going to say so, show your evidence.”

“Pfft…” Zheng Xi stifled a laugh.

None of the young ones paid him any attention. Su Zhe said, “I wasn’t talking about your father — I was talking about Feather Uncle.”

Her cousin Jin Yu was displeased. “It must have been the Doctor who said that.”

Zhù Ying gave a cough, and the young ones stood properly again.

Among the younger generation of the “Liao people,” the young were learning the official language and reading books — the Emperor himself was pleased by this. He asked Jin Yu with interest, “Which character was it?”

Jin Yu said, “Just that seventh lesson! You can’t really blame me — two characters look like brothers. Elder brother and younger brother — what difference is there?”

Su Zhe added: “The other character is in lesson nine.”

The Emperor asked, “What lesson is this?”

Jin Yu reluctantly recited the opening lines: “Just this lesson.”

“And what is the ninth lesson?”

Jin Yu had no choice but to recite a few lines of that one too, saying, “I can recite it — the characters just look too similar.”

The character-learning songs had rhythm built into them — they were sung while learning and chanted while reciting. The Emperor felt he had only heard a small portion and wanted Jin Yu to recite the whole thing. Jin Yu had no fear of singing and performed two sections for the Emperor. The Emperor tapped his knee with one finger, keeping time: “Not bad, not bad.”

One character was “already” and one was “self” — they did look rather alike. Everyone noticed that the little girl and this young man were relatives, and the little girl also seemed to be relatives with that small boy. Relatives intersecting — quite consistent with marriage alliances.

Wang Yunhe said, “Old Liu showed mercy — he didn’t put ‘self,’ ‘already,’ and ‘oneself’ all on one page.”

The Emperor laughed. “Oh yes, I remember now! That character-learning song? You had mentioned it before, hadn’t you?”

Lang Rui said loudly, “Yes!”

The Emperor did not take offense — Lang Rui was only six or seven years old, still small. Su Zhe pulled from her sleeve a thin booklet: “Just this one.”

The book was presented just like that.

The Emperor said, “Let me have a look.”

Su Zhe hesitated slightly. Zhù Ying said, “I’ll give you a new one when we get back.”

Only then did Su Zhe hand the book to a eunuch, who took it and gave it to the Emperor. The Emperor opened it: inside were scribbled drawings of cats and dogs, and scattered rough notes.

Both Liu Songnian’s and Zhù Ying’s names were inscribed on it; the first lesson was a praise of the dynasty.

The Emperor flipped through it quickly, closed it, and said to Zhù Ying, “Give her a new copy.”

“Yes.”

Neither Zhù Ying nor Wang Yunhe mentioned the matter of distributing the books for free. The Emperor had looked at this book, kept it — that was enough.

The Emperor was in excellent spirits and bestowed upon the several children paper, brushes, and the like, along with winter clothing and gold coins. Zhù Ying calculated: five people together received slightly more than what she herself would be given by the Emperor this New Year.

It appeared the Emperor was quite pleased.

After a while, the Emperor grew a little tired. Lan Xing quietly caught the eyes of the Chancellors. Shi Kun accordingly said, “Your Majesty — shall the matters agreed upon today be handled as arranged?”

The Emperor nodded. “You may go.”

Zhù Ying brought the young ones, trailing the rewards, and the whole party returned to the Court of Dependencies. The young ones were quite excited, looking over each other’s things. Su Zhe was a little put out and said quietly, “Why was I not given a blade? Why bolts of silk?”

Zhù Ying said, “They were not given silk.”

“That’s not right,” Su Zhe said softly. “A’Weng treats me the same as them — and being given silk is less than being given a blade.”

Zhù Ying said, “Then I’ll go find you a fine blade.”

“Yes!”

Zhù Ying told their attendants to put the gifts away carefully: “Don’t let anyone steal them.”

They stayed at the Court of Dependencies for the midday meal. The young ones, full and warmed by the charcoal brazier, grew drowsy. Zhù Ying told them to each rest, and she went out. She found Dian Ke Cheng of the Court of Dependencies’ Court of State Ceremonial, which was housed inside: “Is there an interpreter available?”

Dian Ke Cheng was startled. “But those few speak the official language — and you know it even better than they do.”

“The western peoples next door — is there a spare interpreter?”

“You’re asking about —”

Zhù Ying said, “They are too close for comfort. I need to know what they’ve been saying.”

“Oh, of course — yes, there is one!”