After all the joyful occasions had passed, life at the Earl’s residence settled back into its calm.
Having become a fourth-rank outer court lady, Lin Shi received an unceasing stream of invitation cards. She would always inquire carefully into which madam had organized the gathering, who else would be attending, and what purpose lay behind the tea and conversation — and only then would she carefully select a few of the invitations to accept.
One reason was that both of her sons now held court appointments, and the entire Earl’s residence was bound together as a single whole. If Lin Shi were to carelessly draw too close to the wives of other officials, she worried she might bring unforeseen trouble upon Shaohuai and Shaojin through no fault of their own.
The other reason was that Lin Shi had once remarked casually to her eldest daughter-in-law during a quiet chat: “A title and a reputation are things that carry weight when kept quiet and understated in daily life. If one is always going out and making a great display of them, over time they come to be worth nothing at all.”
As for Xiao Nan and Xiao Feng — the moment Lin Shi thought of how they would be following Shaohuai and Shiyue south the following year and would be gone for years before returning, her heart ached with longing. Yet even so, she almost never asked for her grandchildren to be brought to her rooms.
After three months in the Hanlin Academy, Pei Shaojin had grown familiar with the many duties of the National History Directorate. As a Compiler, he now needed to begin attending court as the record-keeper on rotation.
That is to say, he was to keep the record of major court affairs and the Emperor’s daily matters.
This being his first time coming so close to the reigning Son of Heaven — and since the Emperor was paying him particular attention on account of his father and elder brother — Pei Shaojin could not help feeling somewhat nervous. The night before his first day of duty, Shaojin went to his elder brother’s study to ask for guidance.
By candlelight, the two brothers sat across from each other.
Pei Shaohuai took a moment to recall the circumstances of his own very first day on duty — when, unfamiliar with the Emperor’s temperament, he had done everything with the utmost caution. But his younger brother’s situation was quite different: the Emperor already had some knowledge of Shaojin and held expectations for him. For this reason, Pei Shaohuai believed that Shaojin could afford to be somewhat bolder and more forthcoming.
Pei Shaohuai said with a smile, “Jin’er need not be anxious. Beyond the record-keeping itself, the Emperor may well ask your views on current court affairs — simply answer truthfully and as you genuinely think.”
When it came to learning and perception, Pei Shaohuai had considerable confidence in his younger brother, since they had studied under the same teacher.
He added, “If there is anything to be mindful of, there are two small matters worth noting.”
“What two small matters?”
Pei Shaohuai mentioned the Emperor’s habit of sharing pastries with his ministers and playing chess with them. “Enjoying pastries is one of your strengths — if the Emperor offers some, just eat them. As for chess — the Emperor’s skill at chess is… well, you will need to let him win a little. Don’t break his position in just a few moves.” He paused for a breath and added, “Let him win by quite a lot more.”
The emphasis fell on the phrase “quite a lot,” to ensure the point was properly made.
Shaojin had an excellent memory, and the ability to memorize chess manuals alone guaranteed his chess would not be poor.
Pei Shaohuai’s tone was very relaxed, while Shaojin listened with full gravity and seriousness. “I understand,” Shaojin replied. “Thank you for the guidance, Elder Brother.”
The autumn wind brought cold into the nights, and the stars shone with a scattered brightness.
When Pei Shaojin left home for court, he had added an extra layer of clothing beneath his official robe, and still found himself shivering in the carriage. The cold had come early this autumn — it looked as though this year would once again be a long winter.
There was nothing of significance at the morning court session. After it was dismissed, a eunuch led Shaojin to take his seat in the side hall of the Qianqing Palace, where he began keeping the record of the Emperor’s daily affairs.
In the main study of the front hall, it happened to be a rare day with no ministers coming to discuss state affairs. The Emperor had been seized by a craving for chess, and he instructed the head eunuch Xiao, “Go to the Six Offices and summon Boyuan for an audience.” He was looking forward to having Boyuan keep him good company through several satisfying games.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Eunuch Xiao had only just reached the doorway when he heard the Emperor say, “Never mind, never mind.” He let out a long sigh and said, “Come next spring he will be heading south to open the seas… We had better start getting accustomed to it now.” Not only Boyuan would be leaving the capital — Chengzhao would be leaving as well.
Eunuch Xiao returned to the Emperor’s side and reminded him gently, “Your Majesty — today the other young Sir Pei is on duty as record-keeper, just in the side hall.” Since both were Sir Pei, Eunuch Xiao could only say “the other one” to distinguish them. The implication being that His Majesty might find himself another chess companion.
“Excellent.” The Emperor understood immediately, and had Eunuch Xiao prepare the chess board at once, then summoned Pei Shaojin into the main hall — a good opportunity to get to know this “student of his” better.
Seated across the chess board from the Emperor, Pei Shaojin sat with considerable discomfort.
The Emperor asked a few questions about current affairs, and Shaojin thought carefully before answering. His words sounded somewhat like a written composition, but the perspective was distinctive and the reasoning sound and well-grounded.
The Emperor gave a satisfied nod. “You bear quite a resemblance to your elder brother’s manner in his early years.” He then smiled and reassured Shaojin not to be nervous — just to treat it as an ordinary game of chess — and teased, “Your elder brother, when playing chess, never stood on ceremony with Us.”
Seeing the Emperor speaking in such an elder’s manner, and with his elder brother’s guidance from the night before to draw on, Pei Shaojin gradually relaxed.
“Boyuan said your chess is better than his?”
“Marginally,” Shaojin replied modestly.
And so the Emperor sat up straight and composed himself, his expression growing a degree more intent. He raised a white piece in hand and began laying out his strategy with careful deliberation, considering each move with full gravity.
Pei Shaojin dutifully followed his elder brother’s instructions and began quietly yielding — only to find that in a moment of inattention, he had captured over a dozen of the Emperor’s white pieces. He hesitated, then began letting through much more.
By the time the game had reached its halfway point, Pei Shaojin’s black pieces had accidentally encircled a whole cluster of white ones.
From that point on, every black piece he placed required long deliberation — just how much should he yield, and in what way?
It was not until the game concluded, with Shaojin having “narrowly won” against the Emperor, that the full meaning of his elder brother’s words — “let him win by quite a lot more” — became apparent to him after the fact.
The Emperor had enjoyed the game thoroughly. “Your Excellency’s chess truly surpasses Boyuan’s,” he said with pleasure. On ordinary days when he played with Boyuan, the wins and losses had tended to be roughly even.
“I thank Your Majesty for the kind words,” Shaojin replied with a rather sheepish expression.
Fortunately, a minister happened to request an audience at just that moment, allowing Shaojin to make his escape. As he retreated back to the side hall, he was already wondering how he ought to play chess going forward — perhaps he ought to go home and study up on children’s chess tactics?
The following morning at court, a fine misty rain fell on the parasol trees, adding further to the autumn chill.
Two consecutive autumns of early cold had drawn not only Pei Shaohuai’s attention but also that of the newly appointed Ministers of Personnel and of War.
Both men the Emperor had chosen were of the practical, results-driven type, with concrete achievements to their names.
After Zhang Lingyi had entered the cabinet, the position of Minister of War had been taken over by Chen Gongda, formerly the Left Vice Minister of War. Chen Gongda had served in succession as a Bureau Secretary, a Senior Bureau Secretary, and Prefect of Anqing, then as Regional Inspector of Huguang, and later as Supreme Commander of the Jizhou-Liaodong region, before being recalled to the capital and given renewed responsibilities within the Ministry of War. During his tenure as Supreme Commander of the Jizhou-Liaodong region, Chen Gongda had reformed and strengthened the frontier defenses, bringing relative stability to the Liaodong border. Upon returning to the capital, he had also coordinated the administration and military affairs of the capital garrison.
After Pei Jue retired from office, the Emperor transferred Grand Preceptor of the Heir Apparent Wang Gaoxiang into the Ministry of Personnel to oversee its affairs on a provisional basis, and the previous month had issued an edict formally appointing him as Minister of Personnel. Wang Gaoxiang had begun his career as an elite Hanlin scholar, and his official experience was even more extensive — he had once been sent to supervise military affairs in Liaodong and construct the border wall, had served as a Censor overseeing the affairs of the Censorate, and had received the Emperor’s particular trust, entering the Eastern Palace to be responsible for the instruction and supervision of the Crown Prince.
What the two men had in common was that both had at some point administered frontier military affairs.
At the morning court session, an autumn wind swept outside the great hall while the civil and military officials stood in solemn rows within. The two new ministers appeared to have conferred beforehand and stepped forward one after the other to present their counsel.
Minister Chen reported: “Your Majesty, the winters of Da Qing have been growing sharply longer. North of the nine frontier garrisons, the lands of the Tatars are likely experiencing the same, and very probably to a greater extent. A bountiful snowfall in winter can bless Da Qing with a rich harvest, but it will also leave the Tatar tribes of the northern frontier short of grass and grain, with their cattle and sheep struggling to survive — and this will drive the various Tatar tribes to push southward. The court ought to make advance preparations in military affairs to meet this threat.”
Da Qing was at the height of its national strength, yet external threats remained. There were two principal ones: the coastal menace of the Japanese pirates, and the threat of the Tatars on the northern frontier.
Minister Wang Gaoxiang of Personnel seconded the motion.
Minister Chen’s ability to reason from the change in winter conditions to the threat of Tatar incursions — to anticipate trouble before it arose — did reflect genuine insight. But the measures he went on to recommend were ones Pei Shaohuai could not entirely agree with.
Minister Chen advised: “From the reports reaching me out of the nine frontier garrisons, the administration of the border passes has grown considerably lax. The private trading between soldiers, civilians, and merchants on our side and the various Tatar tribes has re-emerged — and in some places is rampant. Grain and sea salt from Da Qing flowing into the territory of the Northern Yuan — is this not feeding the tiger that threatens us?”
He continued: “The nine frontier garrisons have border walls and battle ramparts stretching for thousands of miles, shielding the interior and keeping one region secure and stable. But the border walls, built from whatever materials were at hand — sometimes stone, sometimes packed earth — collapse and crumble in large sections whenever heavy rain falls. Years have passed since the last major work, and the time has come when they can no longer be left unrepaired.”
The Emperor listened with a grave expression that also suggested he had already long since given the matter prior thought — Boyuan had once analyzed the matter of consecutive cold winters with him in the imperial study.
He asked, “What do Our two Excellencies believe ought to be done to prepare military affairs?”
Minister Wang said, “In this minister’s view, the frontier garrisons and their forces ought to be reformed and placed in strict compliance with Da Qing’s statutes, with private trading between soldiers, civilians, and merchants on our side and the Tatar tribes strictly prohibited. Any who violate this shall be beheaded and publicly displayed as a warning.”
Minister Chen presented his counsel in favor of conscripting corvée labor to repair the border walls. “Last year the ship taxes at the Taicang docks were highly productive, and Da Qing’s grain revenue also increased by two tenths, making this a time of full treasury reserves. What is more, more than ten years ago, in the wake of the great victory at the Red Salt Lake, forty thousand soldiers and civilians repaired the Yulin border wall in the Ordos region, securing ten years of peace for the people there — demonstrating that constructing border walls brings benefits for generations. This minister earnestly requests that Your Majesty open the treasury and rebuild the border walls.”
No sooner had the two ministers finished speaking than officials from both the Personnel and War ministries stepped forward to second the motion.
In less than half a year’s time, Pei Shaohuai would be heading south to open the seas. In recent weeks he had rarely presented counsel at court and had no intention of stealing the thunder of others. The two ministers were not treacherous or malevolent men — they had genuine insight and they looked at the problem from the court’s perspective. It was not at all strange that they had arrived at this counsel; in fact, most officials at court would agree with what the two ministers had said, including the grand secretaries — all of them had grown up in this age and served within the court.
Cutting off trade, rebuilding the border walls, holding strictly within their defenses, and suppressing the Tatar tribes with a heavy military force — perhaps this truly could sustain a period of peace.
But it was not a long-term solution.
Pei Shaohuai could not remain silent today.
The Emperor also asked, “Do any of Our Excellencies have other views?”
Amid the chorus of agreement, Pei Shaohuai stepped forward and declared with a clear and resonant voice, “This minister respectfully dissents,” drawing every eye in the hall.
In the corner where he was on duty keeping records, Pei Shaojin listened as his elder brother spoke with upright composure: “Both Minister Wang and Minister Chen have administered frontier military affairs, and their deduction that two cold autumns foreshadow Tatar incursions is entirely persuasive.” He first affirmed their assessment.
Then he heard Pei Shaohuai continue: “However, resisting the Tatar invaders from the north does not lie in unyielding passive defense. To hold out with fortified cities and unyielding defense will always end in eventual collapse. In this minister’s view, to resist the northern enemies, the key lies in vigilantly preventing the various Tatar tribes from uniting their forces.”
He analyzed: “In former years, the Northern Yuan fragmented into three parts — not just the Tatars alone. On the Onan River there is the Tatar tribe; on the Khovd River, the Oirat tribe; and on the Xiliao River, the Uraankhai tribe. If these three unify their forces, no matter how high the border wall, it will be trampled beneath the hooves of their cavalry.”
This statement immediately stirred the indignation of many military officers at court — was this not boosting the enemy’s morale while diminishing the prestige of their own forces?
Minister Chen, who had a hot temper, pointed at Pei Shaohuai and berated him: “You — a wet-behind-the-ears youngster who has never even set foot in a frontier city — what do you understand about military defense strategy? This is not something one can just open one’s mouth and talk about recklessly.”
Pei Shaohuai paid no attention to this, but continued to the end of what he wished to say: “But if the three tribes are mutually wary and suspicious of each other, none of them individually is a match for Da Qing.”
He also said: “If their tribespeople come to depend upon Da Qing, then even without a border wall, it will be difficult for them to assemble an army.”
All of this he had already said to the Emperor in the imperial study.
But Minister Chen was in the heat of anger and had not listened carefully, presenting himself with every appearance of wanting a quarrel.
Both ministers — Chen and Wang — had been personally selected by the Emperor for their positions as heads of their respective ministries, and Pei Shaohuai was the young minister the Emperor most admired. He naturally would not allow these two sides to red-facedly argue on the court floor. He pressed his hands downward, signaling for the ministers below to quiet themselves, and said: “In Our view, what all Our Excellencies have said comes from concern for the court and for the soldiers and civilians of the frontier — all of it a wholehearted loyalty. Contentious wrangling today will not only fail to persuade anyone, it will also harm the spirit of cooperation. Therefore let this be done: each Excellency is to return home and reflect carefully, and in five days’ time present the matter for discussion at court again.”
No good strategy could emerge from the heat of anger.
In his corner, Pei Shaojin was recording every word and sentence of the day’s proceedings, while in his mind he thought back to the day his elder brother had taken him to the marketplace, where in a small alley there had been a Northern Yuan man selling frozen mutton — and his elder brother had walked past without a glance.
His elder brother had said: if one could borrow the force of the “market,” one could win without fighting, and spare the common people the suffering of war.