With that single form of address, Pei Shaohuai established the tone of the entire conversation — even if they shared the same clan, Pei Jue was, in his eyes, nothing more than Minister Pei.

Pei Jue was not surprised by Pei Shaohuai’s attitude. He asked as if he already knew the answer, “Supervising Secretary Pei is just returning from the Imperial Study?” His voice still carried the authority of a Minister, though compared to before, it had softened noticeably.

“If the Minister has something to say, please say it.”

Pei Shaohuai offered neither tea nor a seat, intending to conclude the matter and see him out. He knew Pei Jue was capable and accomplished, and an alliance with him would be of considerable advantage — but Pei Shaohuai was not without options.

Pei Jue’s features bore a five or six parts resemblance to Pei Pu, but years of navigating officialdom had hardened the lines of his face. Even in an ordinary glance, his eyes carried a certain piercing pressure.

Pei Jue looked at Pei Shaohuai steadily. Pei Shaohuai did not flinch from his gaze, and said again, “Please speak.”

“You have remonstrated several times now, and your aim is to open the seas. I can help you.” Pei Jue said in a low, measured tone.

A man capable of proposing the silver tax, of seeing through the flaws in the tribute system, and of standing up to Grand Secretary Lou — that Pei Jue could read Pei Shaohuai’s intent was no surprise.

In Pei Shaohuai’s estimation, he only needed to wait until Pei Bingyuan had finished surveying the farmland and completed the revision of the land registers, and Pei Jue could then retire to his hometown and withdraw with his household intact. Why would he choose to involve himself now?

It was not worth his while.

Pei Shaohuai did not ask what Pei Jue’s terms were, for he had no intention of entering into any arrangement with him. He said only, “Your servant is simply acting on the Emperor’s commands, conducting court business — there is no particular aim beyond that.”

“Even the sky is divided between night and day — all the more so the affairs of court,” Pei Jue said meaningfully, then added, “Supervising Secretary Pei is fortunate — gifted with exceptional talent, blessed with good teachers, and at so young an age already versed in the art of monetary reform, crafting counsel that builds upon itself at every step… And yet this is not enough.”

Pei Jue stepped two paces forward until he was standing side by side with Pei Shaohuai, and said quietly, with a muffled gravity, “Otherwise, how could Grand Secretary Zou have retired so early, withdrawing to Jiangnan in seclusion?” In his view, Pei Shaohuai was merely walking the same road Grand Secretary Zou had walked.

Relying solely on working in the open was not sufficient to accomplish anything.

What he implied was that he could help Pei Shaohuai from the shadows.

Pei Shaohuai remained unmoved. He said in an equally low voice, “The Minister of Personnel knows well that from the moment you looked the other way while members of your household plotted to harm and scheme against the main branch of the same clan — from that moment, the foundation for any cooperation between us was gone. Why waste breath today?”

Half a head of white hair, self-worn and weary in appearance — Pei Jue’s face was sallow and drawn, yet the burn scars stretching from his jaw to his neck were pallid white, jarringly conspicuous.

Pei Jue neither denied nor disputed it.

Were one to enumerate every grievance and entanglement, it could fill days of discussion.

Then Pei Shaohuai continued, “Moreover, what the Minister calls ‘help’ — is it genuine help, or acting on orders? The Minister knows his own heart.” Having been honed into a blade in the Emperor’s hand, there was no longer any room for freedom of will.

Why should Pei Shaohuai forsake the greater for the lesser?

Pei Jue stood motionless for a moment. By his nature, he should have turned away in anger — yet somehow the anger did not come.

Pei Shaohuai indicated that the visit was over: “Minister Pei, please — I will not see you out.” Even if the night ahead were ever so dark, he could always hold his own candle to light the way.

As for the second branch of the family, Pei Shaohuai could only commit to not kicking them while they were down.

Even as he left, Pei Jue could not help leaving behind a few parting words. “Every provincial administrator holds tight control over the ports and maritime trade offices in their jurisdiction. Without dealing with the provincial administration, no matter how many imperial edicts the court issues, they will be nothing but empty words — one upheaval of pirate raids would be enough to send everything back to square one.” He then added, “Allies at court can be a great help — but they can equally become your entanglements and vulnerabilities.”

Pei Jue had climbed up step by step, and had seen more than most — all manner of underhanded dealings.

He reached the doorway and paused, his back to Pei Shaohuai, and said, “If your grandfather had possessed even half your courage and talent, I would not have been nursing this grievance and brooding over it all these years.”

Having failed to forge a partnership, Pei Jue still made his request known. “My line has no future in officialdom. But Shaowen is lost in his studies for the examinations, dispirited and listless — I only wish to fulfill a hope of his.” He asked for nothing as grand as a post in the capital — only that his grandson be allowed to take the civil examinations as a normal candidate.

With that, he departed.

Still moving with his customary authority, maintaining the full bearing of a Minister of Personnel — as though the one moment he had shown any yielding, he had left behind only in Pei Shaohuai’s office.

As evening drew near and the hour came to return home, Pei Shaohuai’s colleagues from the Office of Scrutiny called out to him to join them for drinks at Hexiang Tower, but Pei Shaohuai declined politely, saying, “There are matters at home — enjoy yourselves, everyone.”

Along the several li of road from the offices back to the Earl’s residence, the carriage wheels rumbled along. Pei Shaohuai settled his mind — whatever the day had held, whether busy or idle, joyful or trying, by the time he arrived home at his courtyard, he was always composed and warm.

First, he changed out of his official robes. Then he came before his wife and asked the nanny, “Has the young mistress had a good appetite today?”

The nanny smiled and answered, “The young mistress has been eating better these past few days, and the vomiting has lessened somewhat.”

Yang Shiyue was with child — in these first few months, she had suffered from terrible morning sickness and had grown pale and wan, which had caused Pei Shaohuai no small amount of worry.

In the past few days, she had finally begun to recover some color.

“You need not worry, husband — Fourth Sister said that suffering more in the early months is normal,” Yang Shiyue said.

She had the nanny bring out the ceremonial robes for the capping ceremony and said to Pei Shaohuai, “Husband, try on these robes — see if any alterations are needed.”

“I told you not to trouble yourself with these things — rest properly.”

“I am not troubling myself,” Yang Shiyue said, coaxing him along. “The sisters helped with most of it — I only added a few stitches here and there for my own amusement… Besides, would my husband truly have me lying idle in the room all day with nothing to do?”

Pei Shaohuai changed into the ceremonial robes himself and turned slowly in a full circle before his wife.

Yang Shiyue reminded him, “Husband, do not forget to take leave a few days in advance.”

“I know.”

Spring grew warm in the third month, the scenery vast and new beyond all limits — and on the day of Pei Shaohuai’s birthday, the capping ceremony was held without great fanfare, only close elders and teachers in attendance, conducted simply according to propriety.

The teacher bestows the courtesy name — today it fell to Master Duan to do so for Pei Shaohuai.

Courtesy names follow certain principles. There is the complementary method, where the courtesy name reinforces the given name. Take his elder brother-in-law Xu Zhan — his courtesy name was Qianli, meaning “a thousand li”: the character for “gaze into the distance” evokes looking far from a height, while “a thousand li” extends that far-seeing vision.

Then there is the antonymous method, where opposites balance each other, like yin and yang. For Pei Bingyuan — the character “yuan” can also be read as “complete and full,” and so his courtesy name was Xunfang, meaning “seeking what is square,” to balance the round.

There is also the moderating method, so the given name does not seem too presumptuous. Take Xu Yancheng — “to speak and accomplish” was too grand a claim, and so his courtesy name was Ziheng, meaning “steadfast and enduring.”

Only through steadfast perseverance could one truly accomplish what one set out to speak.

Both Xu Zhan’s and Xu Yancheng’s courtesy names had been chosen by Master Duan — each imbued with deep meaning and thoughtful care. Now that it was the Pei brothers’ turn, the same would naturally apply.

Pei Shaohuai gathered his hair, put on his cap, and donned his embroidered robe. He held the brush with both hands, raised it before the teacher, and said, “I ask the teacher to bestow a courtesy name upon this student.”

The name is given by one’s parents; the courtesy name, by one’s teacher.

Master Duan took the brush and dipped it evenly in the ink, then said, “Huai — on the left, the water radical; on the right, the character ‘zhui,’ meaning a small bird with melodious, pleasant song. Water that is murky cannot yield such pleasant sound. Only water that is utterly clear and pure can be called ‘huai.'”

Master Duan was expounding on the original meaning of the character “huai” — water of purest clarity.

He continued, “In bestowing this courtesy name today, your teacher hopes to add a deeper dimension: that you hold to your true nature, so that this clear water may one day become a deep and still pool.”

The brush moved across the paper, leaving two characters: Bo Yuan.

“Bo” indicated Pei Shaohuai’s birth order among his generation; “yuan” — meaning “deep and still” — was the teacher’s hope for him. That the character “bo” was used implied that Master Duan had already thought of a courtesy name for Shaojin as well.

Pei Shaohuai replied, “I hear and accept the teacher’s words, and shall shape my character by my name.”

The ceremony was complete.

A courtesy name could express one’s moral character, and made it easier for others to address one properly.

After Pei Shaohuai’s capping ceremony concluded, Grandfather Pei said to Master Duan, “The household’s second grandson, Pei Shaojin, will also reach his twentieth year soon. He is away traveling and studying in Jiangnan and has not been able to return. I ask that Master Duan bestow a courtesy name upon him as well.”

Pei Shaojin was not quite a full month younger than Pei Shaohuai.

Master Duan agreed and picked up the brush again, saying, “The Spring and Autumn Annals state: ‘From the nine tributaries, the sun rises at the banks.’ The morning sun appears as though rising from the great river’s edge.” Master Duan deliberately drew on this Spring and Autumn interpretation to explain the character “jin.”

“Positioned at the river’s edge, one can see what others cannot.” Master Duan said, and wrote on the paper the two characters: Zhong Ya.

“Zhong” indicated Shaojin’s birth order — the second son. “Ya” — meaning “at the shore’s edge” — was the teacher’s expectation for him.

Grandfather Pei received the paper, sealed it in a letter, and had it sent by swift courier to Taicang.

After the capping ceremony, few outside the close circle knew of Pei Shaohuai’s courtesy name, and even fewer called him by it.

One day, the Emperor suddenly asked, “Beloved Subject Xiao Pei must be past his twentieth year — how is it that We have never heard his courtesy name?”

“Your Majesty, your servant received his courtesy name just a few days ago.”

“What is it?”

“Bo Yuan.”

“Profound learning, righteous character, and wealth of scholarship — a heart bright and steadfast as cinnabar. A fine name indeed!” the Emperor exclaimed, then added, “There are quite a few at court named ‘Beloved Subject Pei’ — calling you Bo Yuan will be more fitting.” Otherwise, a single “Beloved Subject Pei” might draw three or four men at once.

And so, what had been a name known to very few, became, with the Emperor’s single utterance of “Bo Yuan,” known to every soul at court.

Taicang.

Spring plowing could not be delayed — it was the busiest season of the year. Yet the people of Taicang no longer depended solely on their fields for their livelihood. The fields were planted with seedlings as before, but the wharves remained lively at all hours.

Ships from Yangzhou and Huzhou raced to catch the last gusts of the northern wind before setting sail southward out to sea.

Vessels in and out of the harbor came in a steady, unbroken stream.

In little more than two years, multi-story buildings had already risen along the waterfront. The various shops did a brisk and flourishing trade, and merchants from the north and south, on arriving here for the first time, had often mistaken the place for Yangzhou.

Pei Shaojin and Xu Yancheng had spent the past half year at the Taicang wharf’s tax supervision bureau on a practical training assignment. In summer, they inspected the merchant ships sailing in from their voyages, and all manner of goods they had never seen before, along with the seafarers’ tales of life beyond the horizon, had broadened their understanding enormously.

In autumn, they tallied the ship tax revenues — and the figures had astonished them both. Such a small port, yet the tax silver rivaled that of an entire provincial administration.

In winter, merchants from every region converged on Taicang, waiting for official permission to set sail — and the sheer volume of them nearly choked the great river mouth.

On this particular day, Xu Yancheng said with feeling, “The more you witness the vitality of this wharf, the more you admire Shaohuai — ah, I mean Bo Yuan. The two of us have only been doing our training here at the tax supervision bureau, and we are already overwhelmed every single day, feeling there is far more to learn than we can take in — and yet Shaohuai traveled and studied in the south for two years, opened a wharf and built a shipyard on top of that…”

He said with another sigh, “Master Nanju was right — the Taicang wharf is the fastest place to broaden one’s understanding. The ships coming and going, the most varied kinds of people, the countless goods, the inexhaustible stories.”

He asked Shaojin, “Shaojin, why aren’t you saying anything?”

“I am reading Big Brother’s letter.” Shaojin said, his eyes focused intently.

Xu Yancheng leaned in to look. The letter read: “…The opening of the seas is difficult yet inevitable. When pirates rise, strike them down; when the people grow restive, govern them. If the world had several more Taicang wharves, the people’s livelihoods would multiply severalfold at minimum…”

“…Yet by human nature, when merchant ships go to sea, there will always be those who evade ship taxes. If this flaw is not resolved, the court’s revenues will decline year by year, the opening of the seas will not last, and official merchants will certainly seize the chance to suppress it. You, my younger brother, are at the edge of the great sea — perhaps you may feel something and arrive at a solution…”

This was a letter Shaohuai had written to his younger brother — and a problem left for him to solve.

“The problem Shaohuai has set is no easy one,” Yancheng said with feeling.