A wise ruler selects worthy ministers as his aides; a worthy minister chooses a wise ruler to serve.

That silk imperial edict gleamed brilliantly in the candlelight — how could Pei Shaohuai not have seen it? And how could he not have understood the Emperor’s intent and test? He deliberately pretended not to notice, declining to step forward and receive the reward, for he did not wish the relationship of “minister aiding the ruler” to become one of “minister serving the ruler.”

Fortunately, the Emperor had at last sent a lantern out.

Tonight’s chess match had not been played to full satisfaction, yet it made the Emperor understand the state of his heart — preventing suspicion from accumulating like a glacier, only to shatter apart one day.

……

Behind rises the auspicious mountain, its beauty emerging above clouds and mist.

The Forbidden City occupies the position of the Black Tortoise and is naturally built against a mountain, using the mountain as its tortoise-shell shield.

Along the central axis, behind the Forbidden City, stands this round and solid mountain shaped like a tortoise’s back — it is called “Wansui Mountain.” The Observatory of the Imperial Astronomical Bureau was built atop Wansui Mountain, from which one could look up to observe the brilliant starry river above, and look down to take in the glowing lights of the Imperial City below.

Today was blessed with a rare clear sky. Director Wu brought his grandson up to the observation platform, preparing to cast a divination for Pei Shaohuai’s journey south.

They chose the hour of dusk, when the sun had just fallen in the west and night had barely descended, to observe the first stars rising in the east and select this moment for divination — this is known as “twilight sighting.”

As the night deepened and no moon rose, Director Wu faced east into the wind, waiting quietly for the first star to light up. A thread of starlight entered his eyes, and Director Wu was slightly taken aback. Fearing his aged eyes had failed him, he looked again with great care and asked his grandson: “Wu Jianqing, was it Shang Star, the Heart of the Merchant, that lit up first just now?”

The young boy of over ten years of age was named Wu Jianqing. With keener eyesight, he confirmed: “Grandfather, it was indeed Shang Star that lit up first.”

The east belongs to the Azure Dragon; Shang Star sits below the Azure Dragon’s heart — it is the Heart Lunar Mansion among the Twenty-Eight Mansions, also called the “Dragon Star.”

“Grandfather, what does the star omen signify?”

Director Wu did not answer, only saying: “Let us first cast the hexagram.”

“Yes, Grandfather.” After the eight trigrams were determined, the young boy said: “Grandfather, it is the Sun Hexagram.” Sun represents wind, belonging to wood.

Before the words had settled, the young boy spoke urgently again: “No… it is the Lü Hexagram, with the Dui Trigram as the primary hexagram.”

Director Wu let out a breath of relief and said: “Heaven protects Da Qing. A capable minister has appeared in the world; the nation is at peace and the people are prosperous.”

Shang Star at the heart of the Dragon, gleaming brightly in the east — it could signify villains holding power, or it could signify a worthy person aiding the ruler.

Among the sixty-four hexagrams of the Book of Changes, the ones people know best are the Qian Hexagram and the Kun Hexagram, for their image commentaries read: “Heaven’s movement is vigorous — the noble person strives ceaselessly for self-improvement; earth’s bearing is receptive — the noble person embraces all things with great virtue.”

The hexagrams divined tonight also carry image commentaries. The Sun Hexagram reads: “Wind follows wind in the Sun — the noble person spreads commands and carries out affairs.” The Lü Hexagram reads: “Treading on marsh, the Lü — the noble person distinguishes high from low and settles the people’s resolve.” The full text reads: “Heaven above, marsh below — Lü. The noble person distinguishes high from low and settles the people’s resolve.”

“Let us go. We shall enter the palace for an audience and truthfully report the star omens and hexagram readings to His Majesty,” said Director Wu.

On the way down the mountain, Wu Jianqing noticed that his grandfather wore an expression of joy, and so asked: “Tonight’s divination — why is Grandfather so happy?”

Director Wu deliberately stopped walking and said to his grandson with seriousness: “Jianqing, the Son of Heaven is the ruler, so he naturally favors the Sun Hexagram. But for the realm as a whole, the Lü Hexagram is the rarer and more precious one.” He explained: “Lü — to tread and walk — a person treads and walks through the world. How forthright and open! Distinguish high from low, settle the people’s resolve — only then can grace and blessings reach ten thousand people.”

Wu Jianqing was still young and understood only half of it, so he first committed it to memory.

He asked again: “When the hexagram is auspicious, one reports it truthfully. But if the hexagram is inauspicious — contrary to the people, contrary to the realm — what then?”

“It is not common for Heaven to follow the wishes of man. When Heaven does not follow man’s wishes, then it falls to man to make things happen.” Director Wu said: “Jianqing, you must remember — to trust the hexagram completely is worse than not trusting it at all… These star omens are fixed, but people are living.”

“Your grandson has noted it.”

……

“Your humble servant pays respects to Your Majesty.”

“Please rise, Director Wu.”

In the Imperial Study, Director Wu joyfully reported to the Emperor: “The hexagram is greatly auspicious; the people are blessed. Your humble servant has come specially to report this.”

The Emperor was also pleased and asked: “How does Boyuan’s journey look?”

“Shang Star shines brilliantly, signifying that Your Majesty has obtained a loyal and capable minister. The first hexagram is Sun — the minister heeds the ruler’s will. The latter hexagram is Lü — the capable minister serves the people.”

Director Wu gave a detailed account of the Sun Hexagram, mentioning “loyalty and virtue” numerous times in passing. When speaking of the Lü Hexagram, he skimmed over it briefly.

The Emperor was greatly pleased — but what Director Wu had not anticipated was that the Emperor actually said: “This ‘Lü Hexagram’ is the primary hexagram; it must not be overshadowed by the guest.”

He then ordered the Imperial Astronomical Bureau to publicly announce the hexagram readings at the early court assembly the following day, to be shown to all ministers.

“Your humble servant receives the imperial command.”

……

On the other side, the Earl’s residence was in a state of busy activity, bustling and striving to prepare Pei Shaohuai’s belongings for his journey south.

All manner of daily utensils, clothing, and medicines were attended to with meticulous care. The most extraordinary was the clothing and toys for Xiao Nan and Xiao Feng — everything they would need from age one to age ten had been prepared in full, and these two children’s things alone had filled two entire carriages.

Lin Shi was still worried that the preparations were insufficient. She said to Pei Shaohuai: “This carriage contains items that several elder aunts sent for Zhengguan and Yunci — each one carefully selected, and all will be used after the journey south; they must all be brought along. The other carriage is what I and your mother-in-law prepared together… If only the time were not so short, the preparations could have been made even more thorough.”

Each time she spoke, she inevitably found herself unable to hold back the reddening of her eyes.

Pei Shaohuai repeatedly offered comfort: “Though the road is far, all travel arrangements have been properly made, and Commander Yan will lead troops to accompany us. Mother need not worry.” He also said: “Along the way, your son will send a letter from each relay station reporting safe arrival. Mother, please be at ease.”

Fearing that her son would have no one reliable to rely on in the south, Lin Shi also arranged for Shen’er’s household and the Zhang household steward’s family to follow and travel south together.

The Yang family residence did the same — worried that Yang Shiyue was young and had insufficient experience caring for children, they specially arranged for servants to travel along.

Right up until the day before departure, carriages continued to come and go without end between the Pei family and their relatives’ residences. The elders repeated their words of instruction over and over again, fearing they might be forgotten.

……

During the Grain Rain season, the snow and ice on the south-north Grand Canal had fully melted and the waterway at the ferry crossing had opened.

It was also, by fortunate coincidence, an auspicious day.

Pei Shaohuai and Yan Chengzhao set out on their journey south. The words of farewell to family had been spoken before they entered court; the two changed into their new official robes and departed from the palace today.

Before the Hall of Supreme Harmony, a grand and imposing scene unfolded. The Ministry of Personnel read the imperial edict aloud, calling out in a resounding voice: “By the mandate of Heaven and by imperial decree… let Tong’an and Nan’an Counties be combined into a directly governed prefecture under direct court jurisdiction, to be named Shuang’an; let the Zhongluo Thousand-Household Station be renamed Jiahe Guard.”

Pei Shaohuai was appointed as the Governor of Shuang’an Directly Governed Prefecture, additionally granted the title of “Commissioner of Maritime Opening.” Yan Chengzhao was placed in provisional command of Jiahe Guard, concurrently serving as Guard Commander.

“Open the Meridian Gate, the Central Gate, and the Gate of Heavenly Appeasement —”

Three gates aligned in a single line. Pei Shaohuai and Yan Chengzhao exited the palace through them. Four years had passed, and Pei Shaohuai had not expected that he would once again “enjoy” the honor of exiting the palace through these three gates.

A fifth-rank official assigned to an external post, yet able to receive such an extraordinary honor — of all of Da Qing, this was surely the only instance.

One civil, one military, walking side by side out of the palace, Yan Chengzhao remarked with a rare touch of humor: “Thanks to Governor Pei’s good fortune, Yan has had the chance to exit the palace through the central line.” It was evident that this cold, reserved Commander Yan was in quite good spirits at this moment.

“Is this Commander Yan’s first time?”

“Naturally.” Yan Chengzhao replied. Without a matter of great significance, the three gates of the Meridian Gate, Central Gate, and Gate of Heavenly Appeasement would not be opened casually, nor was it something any minister could simply walk through.

“Pei is of modest talent — I walked through once when I became Zhuangyuan, and this is already my second time,” said Pei Shaohuai with a perfectly serious expression, speaking words of unmistakable arrogance, then added: “There is nothing particularly special about it.”

Yan Chengzhao fell silent.

“Compared to this, I am still more envious of Commander Yan’s ability to climb over the palace wall — coming and going as he pleases.” Since they were about to work together for several years, it was better to speak more freely.

“…”

At the ferry crossing, the official vessel heading south gradually sailed farther away, fading into the river mist of spring until it disappeared from sight. In the Imperial Study, a dish of Suzhou-style pastries sat on the Emperor’s desk, their fragrance inviting. The Emperor sat before his desk, staring fixedly at the pastries in a daze, motionless for a long while.

“Your Majesty, the pastries have grown cold. This old servant will bring a fresh dish.”

The Emperor came to his senses and replied: “No need.” He had no appetite at all.

The Emperor looked southward through the main gates and murmured with a self-deprecating laugh: “Both chess enthusiasts have gone south, leaving only this one chess enthusiast alone in the palace…”

…… ……

The vessel traveled south along the waterway, with fair winds the entire way, smooth and unobstructed.

They paused for two days at various points along the river, going ashore to see the local scenery and customs of different places, which made the long journey somewhat less tedious.

Xiao Nan and Xiao Feng were over one year old. They ran about everywhere each day and never seemed to tire. Even aboard the ship, they found everything new and fascinating.

One day, Xiao Feng ran back to the cabin to find Yang Shiyue and said in her soft, childish voice: “Mother… it is time for the meal.”

Yang Shiyue heard her daughter’s words and felt something was a little strange, though she could not quite say what. She asked: “Is Xiao Feng hungry?”

Xiao Feng nodded.

Nearby, Xiao Nan raised his head and also chimed in: “Mother, Mother, Xiao Nan… is likewise.”

Yang Shiyue burst out laughing. She realized — wasn’t this exactly the way their father habitually spoke and carried himself? It occurred to her that Xiao Nan and Xiao Feng were at just the age for learning to talk, and Pei Shaohuai, with nothing to do on the ship, naturally spent every day playing with the children. Back and forth like this, Xiao Nan and Xiao Feng had picked up their father’s bookish manner of speaking and doing things.

She found it both funny and a little exasperating all at once.

That same day, the official vessel had moored at the bank, and Yan Chengzhao came over from the other ship, intending to have a casual chat with Pei Shaohuai. After having someone announce him, before Pei Shaohuai had even walked out, two little round bundles came tumbling out of the room. Upon seeing Yan Chengzhao’s cold expression, the little bundles were visibly startled for a moment.

But immediately —

“Who goes there?” said Xiao Feng.

“State your name,” said Xiao Nan.

Yan Chengzhao could not help laughing out loud. He was still thinking of how to respond when Pei Shaohuai happened to come out, crouching down to teach the two children: “Xiao Nan, Xiao Feng — call him Uncle Yan.”

“Uncle Yan.”

Yan Chengzhao smiled and responded to the two little bundles, then “teased” Pei Shaohuai: “Surely Magistrate Pei has not already been teaching the children poetry and verse?”

Pei Shaohuai was puzzled and asked: “Whatever gave Commander Yan that idea?”

Hearing the phrase “whatever gave you that idea,” Yan Chengzhao understood — there was no need to specifically teach, for this Magistrate Pei always spoke this way naturally.

Scholars truly were something else.

Yan Chengzhao first took his leave, and shortly after, went back and brought his daughter over.

The little county princess had been born into a family of generals. Her brows and eyes originally carried a hint of heroic spirit, yet what her eyes revealed was a gentle warmth — one could even guess that she had once tread carefully through life. Such a face paired with such a temperament gave the little county princess an air of quiet, restrained coolness about her.

Perhaps due to too much past pretense and false pleasantries, after marrying Yan Chengzhao, she wished only to live quietly, rarely visiting other residences, which added a few shades of mystery to her as well.

Yang Shiyue had perceived something of the little county princess’s temperament, and when interacting with her, they addressed each other as “Madam Pei” and “County Princess,” maintaining a respectful distance without being overly familiar. Only when children were involved did they use “Aunt” and “Auntie.”

In this way, their conversations were instead more at ease and comfortable, and they had grown somewhat closer.

That evening, a rug was spread in the cabin, and the three little ones played upon it. Little Yi’er held a piece of pastry in her hand and sat quietly to one side. Watching Xiao Nan and Xiao Feng chase and tumble about, she laughed happily along.

When Xiao Feng had run herself tired and sat down beside Yi’er, Yi’er generously held the pastry out toward Xiao Feng and said in a small soft voice: “Sister, eat.”

An ordinary exchange and gesture between small children, yet it left the little county princess gazing with a faraway look — the every smile and frown of one’s children always captivates new parents until they are thoroughly absorbed, making everything feel fresh and new. This was only somewhat more pronounced in the little county princess’s case.

She smiled again, with a look of quiet contentment.

The following day, the two families gathered again, and upon parting, the little county princess had someone bring out a small sandalwood box and said to Yang Shiyue: “I have never been skilled in poetry and verse, nor in needlework — I have nothing presentable to offer. The only thing I have is that, during my childhood in the palace, I once took up jade carving to pass the time, which is perhaps fit to show others… Inside is a jade hairpin I carved. I hope Madam Pei will not think it unworthy.”

Not a trace of haughtiness — she was even somewhat over-modest.

Yang Shiyue accepted it graciously, and a few days later, wearing this jade hairpin, she brought little Yi’er a beautifully crafted small hat.

And so they continued, going back and forth like this.

Pei Shaohuai and Yang Shiyue could roughly imagine what Yan Chengzhao and the county princess had experienced in their youth — one had trained relentlessly with blades and spears from a young age, accustomed to the sight of killing, and being a concubine-born son had made him more like a tool; the other, though she had enjoyed wealth and splendor, had lived under the eaves of the rear palace, lonely and helpless, often regarded as a decorative object.

Pei Shaohuai and Yang Shiyue had never spoken of these things in private, knowing them quietly in their hearts was enough.

Yang Shiyue had asked only once, in a veiled way: “The Emperor assigned a military officer to accompany us south — did he specifically choose Commander Yan?”

Pei Shaohuai nodded and replied: “Nevertheless, there is no need to be guarded about anything. Everyone here is an open-hearted person.”

“I understand.”

……

The river shimmers with rippling light as boats pass through; lamplight from the towers reflects and pierces the cold waves.

As the boat passed, a flock of egrets startled into the dusk.

All the way south, following the waterways, they took in the landscapes of north and south alike, and listened to the fishing songs of north and south as well.

In his leisure time, Pei Shaohuai sat alone in the ship’s study reading books — not the Four Books and Five Classics, nor Tang poetry and Song verse, but many popular storybooks, such as things like the Travel Notes of the Min Capital, the first and second editions of Amazing Tales, and even The Story of the Celestial Consort’s Birth and Her Service to the World.

The variety went on and on.

At first, Yang Shiyue assumed that Pei Shaohuai was reading these idle books merely for amusement, to dispel the tedium of the voyage. But each time she came in to bring refreshments or tea, she found her husband not only reading with great attentiveness, but also frequently picking up his brush to write down notes. Sometimes he would even ponder over them by lamplight.

The study was very small, its dim window admitting only a single point of light, with just a few steps before one had to turn around.

Taking advantage of a moment when Pei Shaohuai had set down the storybook to rest, Yang Shiyue said with a smile: “Is my husband so attentive because he is seeking scholarly insight in these storybooks?”

In the world’s eyes, popular storybooks for entertainment are not considered serious scholarship.

“You are right,” Pei Shaohuai replied. “I am indeed studying a subject — studying the local customs and character of the Min region from within these storybooks.”

He even pulled his wife over to sit beside him, opened his notes, and shared with Yang Shiyue what he had gleaned from his reading over these past few days.

He said: “Even within a single prefecture or state, it is said that customs can differ every ten li. How much more so when the Min region is so far from the Central Plains, with so many rivers running east and west between them. I am going there to serve as an official — I must first come to know the waters of that place before I can govern its land.”

Pei Shaohuai offered an example, pointing to the characters “螟蛉子” and saying: “Caterpillars have offspring; the mud-dauber wasp carries them away. In Amazing Tales, written by people of the Min region, 螟蛉子 is used as a metaphor for adopted sons or foster sons. It is often the capable adopted son who is valued more than the birth son — from this one can see that, compared to people of the Central Plains, Min people place greater weight on ‘same surname’ and somewhat less on ‘same bloodline,’ or they have perhaps already come to regard ‘same surname’ as equivalent to ‘same bloodline.'”

He also cited several story plots: among various clans and surnames, in order to strengthen ties between two families, people would even take oath-brothers or recognize foster sons.

This was a place with a strong sense of clan and a vivid spirit of the rivers and lakes.

Pei Shaohuai then opened The Story of the Celestial Consort’s Birth and Her Service to the World and said: “On the mountain of Meizhou Island, a divine being dwells — she is Lady Lin from Putian, who in her unseen way protects vessels at sea and receives the incense and devotion of the people of Min.”

He then said: “Since she is revered by the people of Min, we too should hold her in reverence and awe, and must not give offense.”

“Furthermore, in these storybooks, water monkeys, water roosters, clams, sea bass, and water frogs transform into demon spirits and become the Five Plague Emperors — this is not entirely without basis. My conjecture is that local fishermen may frequently fall ill from these five things.”

What was reflected in the storybooks was the real life of the Min people.

When Pei Shaohuai finished speaking, Yang Shiyue was both astonished and full of admiration. She said: “So storybooks can be interpreted in this way — your wife has gained new understanding following her husband.”

But she had some misgivings and said with worry: “What I fear is that when people are too deeply devoted to deities and too ready to heed the clans, some reasoning cannot get through to them.”

Pei Shaohuai understood what Yang Shiyue meant, and knew her words were very reasonable. He gave a light smile and said: “You need not worry.”

He added: “What common people want to hear is not reasoning — after all, reasoning cannot put food on the table.”

This was precisely why he had taken the time to read these “miscellaneous books” in advance, to make some preparations early.

……

After reaching the Suzhou and Hangzhou regions via the south-north Grand Canal, they switched to the overland route.

The carriage jolted and bumped — somewhat more uncomfortable than being on the ship. Fortunately, Pei Shaohuai’s party had set out early and still had ample time, so there was no need to hurry.

The whole journey was calm and peaceful, without so much as a glimpse of a single bandit’s shadow. Pei Shaohuai found this strange, thinking to himself: when had the stretch south of Suzhou and Hangzhou become so settled and secure?

It was not until one night, when he saw Yan Chengzhao’s deputy general return from ahead to report, that he understood — Yan Chengzhao had long since arranged for his deputy general to lead troops clearing the way ahead, dealing thoroughly with all bandits large and small. This was why their entire journey had been so smooth.

“Commander Yan has his troops well-drilled and ever ready — I am full of admiration.” Pei Shaohuai offered the first toast.

Yan Chengzhao took no particular note of it, only saying plainly: “Troops who are constantly drilled remain constantly sharp.”

After jolting along the official road for a month, Pei Shaohuai and his party finally traveled from Hangzhou all the way to Shuang’an Directly Governed Prefecture. As Shuang’an Prefecture was directly under court administration, Pei Shaohuai, upon taking office, did not yet need to call on the Regional Administration Commissioner, the Quanzhou Prefect, and other officials.

Though Shuang’an Prefecture was somewhat remote, it was truly a fine place — situated at the mouth of the Jiulong River, with bays and islands, sheltered from wind and waves alike, a thorough natural harbor.

To its north it bordered Quanzhou Prefecture; to its south, Zhangzhou Prefecture.

Once Pei Shaohuai successfully opened a port here, positioned between Quanzhou Port to the north and Zhangzhou Moon Harbor to the south, it could “replace official merchants and suppress private merchants.”

Arriving at the actual location, seeing the Jiulong River, and gazing into the distance at Jiahe Island, Pei Shaohuai became ever more certain he had chosen the right place.

The prefectural yamen was established within Tong’an County’s town; Jiahe Guard was set up on the island. Pei Shaohuai and Yan Chengzhao parted ways for now, each going to assume their respective posts.

As for the two families purchasing residences and living as neighbors — that would have to wait until they had settled in before making plans.

Pei Shaohuai and Yan Chengzhao clasped their hands in farewell.

……

Upon entering Tong’an Town, although there were no towering pavilions lining the streets, shops stood side by side, one after another, and the place was by no means run-down.

Compared to the charm of Jiangnan’s Suzhou and Hangzhou with their small bridges and flowing water, the homes and clothing of the Min region’s people were somewhat more richly colored — striking enough to catch the eye, yet without losing their ancient simplicity.

Xiao Nan and Xiao Feng were very curious, unable to get enough of peering out through the carriage window.

Coming to receive them were the two original county magistrates of Tong’an and Nan’an — they now answered to Pei Shaohuai and served as the assistant governor and senior district judge of Shuang’an Prefecture.

Assistant Governor Qi said: “The Shuang’an Prefectural Yamen is just ahead — we will arrive shortly.”

Pei Shaohuai gazed into the distance and saw an elaborately decorated courtyard — red beams and green tiles, quite imposing, not only solemn and dignified but also refined and meticulous.

He thought that was the place, and felt even somewhat surprised — surely it was grander even than the county yamen of Wanping.

But as the carriage gradually drew closer, it did not stop, and instead continued forward.

Pei Shaohuai lifted the carriage curtain and looked — before the courtyard stood a decorative archway with stone lions standing guard on either side, and a placard bearing the words “Qi Family Hall” hung above. It was the ancestral hall built jointly by the Qi family of Tong’an Town.

Yang Shiyue also detected a hint of something in this, and said quietly: “Was it necessary to pass by this place on the way to the prefectural yamen, or was it deliberately arranged to pass by here?”

Pei Shaohuai nodded to indicate he had taken note, and said softly: “We’ll speak of it when we get back.”

Two more li further along, they finally arrived at Shuang’an Prefectural Yamen — the former Tong’an County Yamen. The signboard had only recently been replaced, the ink still fresh.

The scale here was roughly comparable to the Taicang Prefectural Yamen — the courtyard square and neat, facing the street and quiet, a decent enough place.

But it was nowhere near the equal of Qi Family Hall.

The next several days were spent settling into the rear quarters of the yamen and making it temporarily livable. Pei Shaohuai spent his days going to the official hall, familiarizing himself with the workings of the yamen. There was a clever young runner who spoke Mandarin quite well, and Pei Shaohuai had him stay close to assist with matters on both sides.

The runner’s surname was Bao — he was the head constable of the constabulary squad. Pei Shaohuai addressed him politely as Bao Bantou.

One day, after the four squads of runners — the robes squad, constable squad, fast runners squad, and able-bodied squad — had checked in for duty and dispersed, there was inevitably some teasing and horseplay among them. Pei Shaohuai could not understand the local dialect, but could faintly make out words like “elder uncle,” “second uncle,” “brother” — they did not call each other by name, but by generational address.

Pei Shaohuai called for the yamen’s roster and found that nearly ninety percent of the people were surnamed Qi or surnamed Bao.

He summoned Bao Bantou for a casual chat, and in the course of the meandering conversation, asked: “In this Tong’an Town, are there more people surnamed Bao, or more surnamed Qi?”

Bao Bantou replied: “In response to your honor’s question — in the past there were more surnamed Bao, but now the Qi surname accounts for fifty-five percent, so the Qi surname is somewhat more common.”

Pei Shaohuai feigned astonishment and said: “It seems they are two great family names then.”

“In our little town, how could one dare speak of great family names.” Bao Bantou explained: “If speaking of truly great family names, the Shangguan clan of Fuzhou, and the Chen clan of Yingchuan Hall in Quanzhou — those are great family names. Compared to them, Qi Family Hall merely enjoys some prominence within this Tong’an Town.”

“What other surnames are there in town?”

“The Li, Zhang, Zhao, and Wang surnames are all present, just not in great numbers — some families changed their surname, making them fewer still.”