In the days that followed, as the little county princess frequently came to visit — or as Pei Shaohuai and his wife brought Xiao Nan and Xiao Feng over to theirs — they finally came to know this County Princess Zhao.
County Princess Zhao had been born into a military family, and her brows and eyes originally carried a hint of heroic spirit. Yet what flowed from her eyes was gentle warmth, and one could even guess that she had once walked through life with great care.
Such a face paired with such a temperament gave County Princess Zhao an air of quiet, restrained coolness.
Perhaps because too much of the past had been filled with social pretense, after marrying Yan Chengzhao, she wished only to live quietly, rarely going about visiting other residences — which also lent her a few shades of mystery.
Yang Shiyue had sensed something of County Princess Zhao’s temperament, and in their interactions, they addressed each other as “Madam Pei” and “County Princess,” maintaining a respectful distance without being overly familiar. Only when matters involved the children did they use “Aunt” and “Auntie.”
In this way, their conversations were instead more at ease and comfortable, and they had grown somewhat closer.
One day, 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 very 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 County Princess Zhao 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 County Princess Zhao’s case.
She smiled again, with a look of quiet contentment.
The following day, the two families gathered again. Upon parting, County Princess Zhao 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 County Princess Zhao 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 meaning “adopted child of a caterpillar” and said: “Caterpillars have offspring; the mud-dauber wasp carries them away. In Amazing Tales, written by people of the Min region, this term 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.”