The dazzling spring sun of the third month did little to brighten the mood of Qi Shu and the chubby boy as they were punished by being sent to the Imperial Library to copy the “Academy Rules.”
The use of the character “Yu” (Imperial) in the library’s name indicated that the plaque had been bestowed by the founding Emperor Chengzu when the academy was first established. The library housed tens of thousands of volumes, including many lost texts that could only be found here. Students were eager for knowledge, and some rare copies even had waiting lists of several months for borrowing.
The Imperial Library had seven floors. Outer Hall students could only borrow books from the first floor, while Inner Hall students had access to the second through fifth floors. Only Upper Hall students were permitted to borrow books from above the fifth floor.
Thus, the academy’s students formed a hierarchy of admiration: Outer Hall students looked up to Inner Hall students, who in turn admired Upper Hall students. Beyond respect for their scholarship, many hoped to build good relationships with these senior students to borrow books from above the fifth floor of the Imperial Library.
The academy rules were written in classical Chinese, spanning hundreds of articles. Anyone lacking sufficient knowledge would struggle to understand their meaning, as they were comparable to a simplified version of the Dao De Jing.
Qi Shu, who had never written so much in her life, was dizzy from copying.
She had considered asking her palace maid, who was also disguised as a servant boy, to copy for her. However, similar incidents had occurred before, and to prevent students from cheating by having their servants write for them, the teachers now specifically punished them by making them copy in the Imperial Library under the supervision of an Upper Hall student.
Naturally, this student was none other than Gong Sun Yin.
While other Upper Hall students were quite aloof, those punished to copy here were often children of the powerful or wealthy merchants. Offending them too severely might lead to retaliation.
Only Gong Sun Yin, the renowned eldest grandson of the Gong Sun family, was unafraid of such threats. He often spent entire days in the Imperial Library, so the teachers frequently entrusted him with supervising punished students.
It was thanks to this that Qi Shu and the chubby boy were allowed into a private study room on the seventh floor of the Imperial Library.
As Qi Shu bent over her writing, she would occasionally glance up to see Gong Sun Yin sitting casually by the window, holding a book. His white robe pooled on the floor, and his half-tied black hair and clothes were gilded by the slanting sunlight.
He supported his forehead with one hand, his eyes lowered, seemingly engrossed in his book.
Every time Qi Shu stole such a glance, her heart would pound for half the day, and when she lowered her head to continue copying the “Academy Rules,” she hardly felt tired anymore.
Until the chubby boy secretly nudged her elbow and asked, “Brother An, don’t you think the sunlight shining on the book would hurt Gong Sun Brother’s eyes?”
Qi Shu was about to look closer when suddenly an eagle’s cry pierced the air. Gong Sun Yin, who had seemed to be reading with his elbow propped up, nodded off.
He then opened his sleepy eyes, sat up straight, and rubbed his sore neck. His gaze swept lazily towards Qi Shu and the chubby boy, lingering for two breaths as if he had just remembered why they were there. In a tone that was either confused or sympathetic, he murmured, “Not finished copying yet?”
Qi Shu and the chubby boy, holding their writing brushes, were both stunned like a pair of silly geese.
So he had been dozing by the window all along?
Before Qi Shu could think further, a gust of wind blew through the window, scattering the academy rules they had spent the afternoon copying. Qi Shu hurriedly raised her sleeve to block it.
The chubby boy rushed to pick up his scattered papers, crying, “Oh no, my newly copied ‘Academy Rules’!”
Gong Sun Yin by the window also raised his arm to block the incoming leaves and locust tree flowers. Unexpectedly, the diving sea eagle, seeing his raised arm, opened its iron hook-like talons, ready to land on his arm.
Caught off guard, Gong Sun Yin was pushed back several steps by the raptor’s diving force. He bumped into Qi Shu and the chubby boy’s table and was finally tripped by a chair, falling to the ground.
Qi Shu was right next to him. As he fell, her lower leg was hit by the toppled round stool. Amidst the chaos, she felt a weight on her chest – Gong Sun Yin’s elbow had accidentally pressed against her bosom.
Qi Shu was shocked and alarmed. Ignoring the pain in her leg, she immediately pushed him away forcefully.
Gong Sun Yin’s expression also changed slightly. He moved his arm to support himself and sat up halfway, his loose black hair disheveled but still elegant and handsome.
He didn’t seem to notice anything unusual and said, “I accidentally fell on you, Brother An. Are you hurt?”
Qi Shu was still young, and her chest was tightly bound. Hearing his question, she assumed he hadn’t realized she was a girl. She immediately responded in a gruff voice, “No! A man can handle a little pressure!”
Perhaps feeling guilty, she even thumped her chest forcefully.
A flicker of something passed through Gong Sun Yin’s eyes, but he looked away and only said, “That’s good then.”
The sea eagle, realizing it had caused trouble, chose not to land on Gong Sun Yin’s arm. Instead, it folded its wings and perched on the writing desk, tilting its head and observing the two with its bead-like round eyes.
After standing up, Gong Sun Yin lightly tapped the eagle’s head with his folding fan twice. “You never learn, do you? How many times have you caused trouble here?”
The sea eagle cocked its head and let out a “Goo?”
Its iron hook-like claws, however, tore through a page of the “Academy Rules” that Qi Shu had just copied.
Qi Shu’s heart bled, and she cried out in dismay, “My copied ‘Academy Rules’!”
The sea eagle fixed its bead-like eyes on her and lifted one of its feet as if asking if this was all right.
Gong Sun Yin rubbed his temples in exasperation. “That ‘barbarian’ has truly raised Xue Luan to be increasingly wild.”
He then said to Qi Shu, “How about this? I’ll consider all you’ve copied here in the Imperial Library today as passed. You can come back another day to finish the rest.”
The chubby boy, hugging a stack of “Academy Rules” he had picked up from outside, asked pitifully, “Brother Gong Sun, what about me?”
Gong Sun Yin’s long eyes lowered slightly, the last rays of the setting sun falling on the slightly upturned corners of his mouth. He looked incredibly gentle and spoke in an accommodating tone, “The same applies to you.”
On their first day of copying the “Academy Rules,” Qi Shu and the chubby boy were allowed to leave early, with all their work for the day deemed satisfactory. On the way to the dining hall, the chubby boy couldn’t stop praising Gong Sun Yin, saying he wasn’t as strict as everyone claimed.
After all, when the teachers checked, if the handwriting wasn’t neat or there were errors or omissions, they would have to recopy everything.
Qi Shu, however, remained quiet the whole way, only to suddenly break into an inexplicable smile as they walked.
The chubby boy was puzzled by this. “Brother An, what are you smiling about?”
Qi Shu quickly straightened her face. “I… I’m just happy that today’s punishment assignment is over.”
The chubby boy nodded in approval, clasping his hands together. “I’m happy too. Truly blessed by the God of Wealth!”
Qi Shu’s mouth twitched slightly. “Why the God of Wealth?”
The chubby boy explained, “My family is in business. My father says, no matter what happens, just pray to the God of Wealth.”
Qi Shu: “…”
That night, Qi Shu lay in bed, tossing and turning.
This eldest grandson of the Gong Sun family, known as the “Wise One of Hejian,” seemed quite different from the rumors.
Perhaps only someone with such a casual and unrestrained nature could write those strikingly unconventional articles that left people in awe.
Qi Shu couldn’t suppress her rising smile. She pulled the blanket over her entire body as if to cover all the girlish thoughts of that March.
Later, after classes, she and the chubby boy would still go to Gong Sun Yin’s private study room in the Imperial Library to copy the “Academy Rules.” The chubby boy copied faster and faster, while Qi Shu became slower and slower.
She feared that once she finished, she would no longer have a legitimate reason to come here.
While they copied, on sunny days, Gong Sun Yin would sometimes nap by the window, sometimes read obscure ancient texts alone or play chess, and sometimes explain and solve problems for Upper Hall students who came to seek his guidance.
He was always easy-going and carefree, never putting on the airs of other Upper Hall students, yet everyone felt a sense of distance from him.
At least in this academy, Qi Shu had never seen him being overly close with anyone.
The sea eagle, however, often came. He seemed to have a good relationship with the person who sent him letters.
On the last day of copying the “Academy Rules,” Gong Sun Yin happened to be playing xiangqi (Chinese chess) by himself by the window. Qi Shu made an extremely bold decision – she spoke up while he was contemplating his next move.
There was a clear surprise in Gong Sun Yin’s eyes. “Brother An, you know Xiangqi as well?”
Being looked at like this by him, Qi Shu’s heart started racing uncontrollably. She forced herself to remain calm and answered, “I know a little.”
And so, after their first match played across space and time in the wind and rain pavilion of Guangling Temple months ago, they had their second encounter over xiangqi in the seventh-floor study room of the Imperial Library.
That day, they played from the afternoon until the first lanterns were lit. Only when the old teacher in charge of the Imperial Library came to chase away visitors did they reluctantly pause their game.
It was also the first time Gong Sun Yin actively invited her to come back to the Imperial Library the next day to continue their game.
That night, Qi Shu once again buried herself under her blanket, so excited she could barely sleep. At the same time, she felt a bit disappointed – he didn’t seem to remember the girl he had played Xiangqi within the wind and rain pavilion.
Because of their chess games, she became thoroughly acquainted with Gong Sun Yin. Even those Upper Hall students who had previously looked down on her as someone who had entered the academy through connections stopped giving her the cold shoulder, thanks to Gong Sun Yin.
Another day, while she was playing Xiangqi with Gong Sun Yin, the sea eagle landed on the wide-open window sill. Its massive wings, almost half a zhang long, made the window frame seem small.
For the first time, Gong Sun Yin didn’t avoid her. He directly took a scroll of paper from the iron message tube on the sea eagle’s ankle, read it, and tucked it into his sleeve. He then called for a page boy waiting outside the tower and asked him to take the sea eagle to the kitchen for some chopped meat.
Qi Shu couldn’t help but ask curiously, “Is this sea eagle yours?”
Gong Sun Yin had just picked up an Xiangqi piece. Hearing her question, he smiled, seemingly in a very good mood. “That’s not a bad idea. I should think about how to swindle Xue Luan away from that ‘barbarian.'”
It wasn’t the first time Qi Shu had heard him mention that “barbarian.” As she carefully placed a piece, she asked, “Is Xue Luan’s owner a foreigner?”
There were indeed many skilled falcon trainers from foreign lands.
Unexpectedly, Gong Sun Yin nearly laughed to tears upon hearing this. As Qi Shu was at a loss, she heard Gong Sun Yin say, “Although he’s not a foreigner, he is indeed a barbarian – wild as a wolf and fierce as a bull.”
Qi Shu imagined a three-headed, six-armed, blue-faced, fanged figure from a mural painting in her mind. Her hand shook as she placed her piece, unable to understand how someone as refined as Gong Sun Yin could be friends with such a crude person.
Due to this distraction, she quickly lost the game.
Gong Sun Yin asked, “Brother An, you seem preoccupied?”
Qi Shu hastily made up an excuse: “In my childhood, I once saw a xiangqi manual called ‘The Mysterious Strategies,’ but it was only a fragmentary copy. Many of its brilliant chess positions were lost. I heard that this Imperial Library has over ten thousand books, so I wanted to find a complete copy of ‘The Mysterious Strategies,’ but I haven’t been able to.”
Gong Sun Yin’s hand, which was holding a chess piece, paused slightly. He replied, “There isn’t one in this Imperial Library, but there is a complete copy in the Gong Sun family’s library. Unfortunately, it’s one of my grandfather’s treasures and cannot be lent out.”
It was the first time Qi Shu realized the depth of the Gong Sun family’s resources. Even books that weren’t included in many royal libraries, including the imperial Wenyuan Library, could be found in complete editions here.
The Xiangqi manual she mentioned was widely believed to be extinct. She had only seen fragmentary copies in the Wenyuan Library before. She hadn’t expected the Gong Sun family’s library to have a complete copy. As for other rare books, they must be countless.
She was stunned for a moment before hastily replying, “A gentleman doesn’t covet others’ treasures. Especially for such a rare chess manual, it’s only natural for the elder to cherish it.”
Gong Sun Yin, however, let out a laugh. Qi Shu looked up to see a few birds’ shadows flitting across the sunset-reddened sky. He sat cross-legged by the window in his white robe, one knee raised with his elbow resting on it. His eyes reflected the thin glow of the setting sun as he said with a lazy smile, “If it can’t be lent out, I’ll copy the missing fragments for you.”
Her heart skipped a beat again. At that moment, she didn’t know that the day she would receive his copied chess manual would also be the day of their parting.