As the poem goes, “The moon disputes, growing gradually tardy, the wind’s strength dwindles fine; early spring is already the season to bathe at the Yi River,” — the tradition of scholars bathing at the Yi in springtime to honor their teachers was an established custom.
The annual “Yi River Bathing Gathering” had come around once more.
Early in the morning, Pei Shaojin took gifts and brought his son Pei Zhengguan along to the Xu family residence to celebrate the occasion with their teacher, Master Duan.
This year’s gathering was unlike those of previous years — both Xu Wang and Xu Zhan were absent from the capital, one having gone to Datong to manage river ice and prevent spring flooding from ice blockages, the other to Hejian Prefecture to receive foreign envoys. Xu Yancheng, now seventeen, was away traveling and studying in preparation for next year’s spring examinations, and the long journey made it difficult for him to return. Pei Shaohuai, needless to say, was still busy in Quanzhou Prefecture with preparations for the fourth-month prefecture examination. Of Master Duan’s students, only Xu Yancheng and Pei Shaojin remained in the capital.
At the chen hour, Master Duan, dressed in a robe of water-ripple blue, was slowly wheeled out to the front hall by old Aduo.
To make things livelier, both Xu Yancheng and Pei Shaojin had brought their sons along. Xu Yancheng had fathered a daughter first, and his son came after — the same age as Pei Zhengguan, both having just passed two years old not long ago.
The two little round-cheeked boys wore their hair in paired horns and were dressed in bamboo-green robes, their childish voices calling out, “Your little students pay their respects to Grand Teacher,” before bowing in full salutation.
“Good children — quickly rise,” said Master Duan, his eyes curving with a smile.
Only two or three years had passed, yet the silver threads in Master Duan’s hair had turned entirely white. His temperament was no longer as exacting as it had once been; toward these youngest children, he was always soft-voiced and gentle.
In front of his teacher and fellow students, Xu Yancheng remained the most talkative and quick-tongued as ever. He laughed and said, “Once Bingyuan returns, it will be time for Zhengguan to lead these two little ones to ask our teacher to take them on as students.”
Pei Shaojin also said with a laugh, “Ziheng, that reasoning is faulty — do not speak as though you are a generation above Zhengguan and Zhengxu.” By seniority, Xu Yancheng and Zhengguan and Zhengxu were of the same generation.
“In the teacher’s school, only the order of arrival matters — the common world’s generational distinctions have no place here,” Xu Yancheng argued, and at that, teacher and students all burst into cheerful laughter.
Though not all the students had been able to return in time, not a single gift was missing. Pei Shaohuai had asked someone to carry a Shoushan stone seal back to the capital, and had Pei Shaojin bring it today for the Yi Bathing Gathering.
It was a piece of Peach Blossom Freeze with subtly translucent quality, its veining graduated from deep to pale in an orderly pattern. A craftsman had carved it with a fine chisel into the scene of “a solitary figure fishing amid the snow of a cold river,” rendered with great charm.
Master Duan was naturally delighted, yet his thoughts did not linger on the gift. He handed the seal to old Aduo to put away and asked, “How is Bingyuan faring in Fujian? Have you heard any new reports from the court?”
In his letters to his teacher, Pei Shaohuai always reported only the good and never the difficulties.
As it happened, just two days prior, the court had issued notice of the sentences handed down for the three great Quanzhou clans, and since the affairs of Fujian were no longer a matter of military secrecy, Pei Shaojin recounted his elder brother’s actions in Fujian in detail to Master Duan. Master Duan listened with quiet intensity, asking a careful question here and there, his brow furrowed — he could hear the dangers lurking beneath Pei Shaojin’s words, and could imagine the precarious, hemmed-in situation.
Pei Shaojin said, “Elder Brother first established his credibility in Shuang’an Prefecture, and from that foundation advanced step by step. He began by luring grain merchants from Chaozhou to ship grain northward with high prices, stabilizing the grain market. He then issued notices to hire laborers and construct official roads and docks, putting silver into circulation in the hands of the people. Finally, with one hundred and fifty thousand bolts of cotton cloth, he showed the three great clans how abundant Da Qing’s goods and produce truly were… Elder Brother did not fail the teachings you imparted to him in former years. Every step was thought through with great care and composure, just like his essays — at first glance, the opening already strikes one as uniquely conceived and surpassing the rest, but only when you have read to the very last line do you realize that the opening was merely a prelude all along.”
The east wind rose again, and two withered petals fell from the roof tiles onto the teacher’s knee. Pei Shaojin brushed them away with his wide sleeve, then bent to pull the teacher’s cloak more snugly about him, saying, “Elder Brother is as steady as ever. Please do not worry too much on his behalf, Teacher.”
Xu Yancheng also said, “Teacher, Zhongya is absolutely right. Wherever Bingyuan may be, he always manages to accomplish something remarkable — and that is a blessing for the people.” Then he laughed and added, “These past few days, Zhongya and I have been discussing the need to study in detail all the measures Bingyuan put in place — there is an enormous wealth of knowledge in what he has done.”
Pei Shaojin inquired with concern, “Teacher, how is the winter ailment that afflicts you? Has it eased somewhat these days?”
“You need not worry about me — it is an old complaint, and one can endure it until it passes,” the teacher said, then gave instructions to both Pei Shaojin and Xu Yancheng. “Zhongya, the ‘new horse administration’ you have proposed is a matter of great importance to strengthening the frontiers and putting the people’s hearts at ease. Ziheng, those foreign envoys from the four outer regions look respectful on the surface, but are in truth crafty — whenever you deal with them, think everything through carefully before you speak. You must both keep your minds fixed on these great matters, so that you do not waste the learning you have worked so hard to acquire. As for your teacher here, the servants see to everything — you must not let it distract you.”
After a pause, he thought of Pei Shaohuai, and added, “When you write to Bingyuan, do not mention this old body’s ailments either — let him devote his full attention to settling matters in Fujian.”
“We respectfully receive your instruction, Teacher.”
In the courtyard before the stone pavilion, the ink-washing basin where Pei Shaohuai and Pei Shaojin had once dipped their fingers in water to write their characters during the ceremony of taking Master Duan as their teacher still stood quietly in its place — just as it had for more than ten years, never moved. Decade upon decade of ink had stained the white porcelain, giving it a blue-grey cast.
That day, the sky was thick with clouds, their reflections floating in the basin, as though drifting through water.
Master Duan, seeing this scene, recalled the moment when Pei Shaohuai and Pei Shaojin had taken him as their teacher, and recited with a smile, “Wang Zi’an’s ancient parallel prose tells of the changes of the ages: ‘Idle clouds and pool reflections drift through the languid days; things change and stars shift through how many autumns.’ Set against a human life of mere decades, this verse rings no less true — how splendid, how splendid.”
A sigh tinged with feeling, yet untouched by sorrow.
Pei Zhengguan was young and full of curiosity, and tilted his small head to ask, “Grand Teacher, what do those words mean?”
Master Duan patted his head and said with a smile, “They mean that in another two or three years, it will be time for you little ones to dip your fingers in the water of this basin and write your first characters on the stone.”
Generation upon generation, each seeming like the last, yet none quite the same.
After the evening meal was done, Pei Shaojin began making ready to return home with his wife and child. Xu Yancheng came out to see them off.
The two of them, no longer in the teacher’s presence, could finally speak a few private words. Pei Shaojin asked, “What is the true state of Teacher’s winter ailment now?”
“Three days ago, Grandfather persuaded Teacher to allow it, and we brought Physician Wang from the palace to examine him. He said the ailment has been there too long to cure outright — it needs careful ongoing attention.”
“Has he prescribed a remedy?”
Xu Yancheng replied, “Imperial Physician Wang said that because Teacher has been seated in his chair for so many years, his circulation is poor. He did not dare prescribe anything too potent, so he could only go by a child’s dosage. He wrote a gentle prescription and instructed that it be taken continuously until summer. Once the hottest days arrive, Imperial Physician Wang will come again to re-examine him.”
He reassured Pei Shaojin, “The Six Bureaus keep you busy. Go about your work with an easy mind — I have Teacher well in hand. Unless I am on night duty, I make a point of coming home every day without exception.”
“Ziheng, you have my gratitude.”
“To say such things among the two of us…”
As they walked along the covered walkway and passed around the corner, Xu Yancheng lowered his voice. “These past six months, Wa-guo has been sending envoys to court one after another, all professing great loyalty and reverence — I suspect nothing good lies behind it. Then there is the fact that the censors at court have lately stopped submitting memorials attacking Bingyuan, which I also find suspicious. Zhongya, now that you have submitted your remonstrance on the horse administration, be careful in all things.”
In just a few sentences, there was a great deal being said.
The two understood each other without need for elaboration — a few brief hints, and both grasped the full meaning.
“I will bear it in mind,” Pei Shaojin replied. “There are a few officials of humble origins who present themselves as upright and uncorrupted — to my eye, they are neither. You should also be on your guard against them.”
They walked all the way to the outer gate of the residence before the two finally clasped their hands together in farewell.
——
——
The east wind grew brisk, and the rain came and went in brief bursts. Along the riverbanks of Fujian, spring grasses flourished in lush abundance.
Fujian moves early into summer — by late spring, the banks of the Luoyang River in Quanzhou were already thick with the fullness of early summer.
At odds with this flourishing vitality was the once-celebrated Wangjiang Tower, which had declared itself Quanzhou’s premier wine establishment. Now it stood empty and desolate, a touch forlorn.
The notices for the prefecture examination were posted outside the examination hall, then carried swiftly on horseback to the counties under Quanzhou’s jurisdiction and to Shuang’an Prefecture. The examination period was set from the third of the fourth month to the thirteenth — five sessions in all, comprising the Primary Examination, the First Review, the Second Review, the Third Review, and the Final Review.
To qualify for the Academy Examination, one needed only to pass the Primary Examination. But to achieve a good ranking and have the Chief Examiner put in a favorable word with the Education Superintendent on one’s behalf, one had to complete all five sessions and write essays of a decidedly high standard.
Having passed through the examination system himself, Pei Shaohuai knew that from the prefecture examination onwards, the travel expenses required of candidates increased sharply — the county examination was held in the county, the prefecture and academy examinations in the prefectural city, the provincial examination in the provincial capital, and the metropolitan examination in the capital. The further along one went, the more distant the journey and the longer the examination period.
This meant that the road to the examinations was an extraordinarily grueling one for scholars from poor families and farming households. After all, travel consumes money at every turn, and every stop costs silver.
Of all the expenses, lodging cost the most. Even the most modest of inns would see their room rates surge during examination season.
Many scholars from farming households did not manage to scrape together enough for the journey until they were nearly forty or fifty years old, only then making the trip to sit for the examination in the city. And there were many others who could only watch the years slip by, unable ever to sit down at that examination table to test themselves against the rest — a genuine pity.
After arriving in Quanzhou Prefecture, Pei Shaohuai discovered that within the city there were numerous vacant old courtyards, all perfectly habitable. After asking around, he learned that all these old courtyards belonged to wealthy households.
So it was that this situation had come about — wealthy households had empty courtyards sitting idle, yet considered it beneath them to earn a few copper coins from impoverished scholars, and preferred to leave them unused. And those ordinary people who were willing to take in lodgers had homes tucked away in the back corners of the city, or even outside the city walls altogether, far from the examination hall.
After some deliberation, Pei Shaohuai had formed a plan. Through Elder Qi, he made contact with these wealthy households and put forward a proposal: if the households were willing to prepare their unused courtyards as lodging for impoverished scholars, the Shuang’an Port Customs Office would give their ships priority inspection the following year, and they would be issued maritime trading permits first.
What seemed like only a brief priority advantage would in fact allow their merchant vessels to set sail ahead of all others.
With something to gain, there was no shortage of people who stepped forward to respond. Once the matter was settled, Pei Shaohuai handed it over to Associate Magistrate Li to manage, and it was all arranged neatly before the prefecture examination began, with a clear set of procedures for how candidates would be received and accommodated.
The lodging would certainly be cramped and modest, but at least it would offer the scholars a place to shelter. Whether anyone was willing to make use of it was entirely up to the candidates themselves.
When the government gave a modest boost in priority and recognition, and wealthy households voluntarily came forward to give back to their local communities, such a policy was entirely fitting for the current state of affairs and for Fujian, where clan loyalties ran deep.
——
What Pei Shaohuai did not know — and paid no mind to — was that once the announcement was made that a fifth-rank prefectural administrator would serve as Chief Examiner for the prefecture examination, it had stirred no small amount of commotion among the academics and schools throughout Quanzhou Prefecture.
The offer of free lodging brought many scholars from poor farming households rushing to register and sit for the examination, seizing the opportunity to take their chances. The fifth-rank Chief Examiner, however, caused many students from well-known local academies to shy away, too proud to submit their names.
In the academies everywhere, discussion was ceaseless, and many were disgruntled and sighing.
“Of all things, after preparing carefully for more than a year, the prefecture examination we have been waiting for turns out to be like this.”
Someone said, “If the only aim were to pass the Primary Examination, become a licentiate, and qualify for the Academy Examination, then naturally there would be no need to consider who the Chief Examiner is — one could sit any year without any difference. But among the students in the academies, who among us is aiming for nothing more than the Primary Examination? Who among us is not striving to be listed at the top of the long roll, to have the Chief Examiner put in a word of recommendation with the Education Superintendent… ah…”
A long sigh left much unsaid, yet gave voice to what many were thinking.
It was nothing more than the feeling that a mere fifth-rank official — even if they happened to perform well under his supervision — would be of little use to them.
A fourth-rank prefect, in the presence of a third-rank Education Superintendent, could do no more than say a word here or there, recommending favored students so they might gain some advantage going into the Academy Examination and be noticed by the Education Superintendent. And a prefectural administrator who was two full ranks lower — in front of the Education Superintendent, he might not be able to say a single word at all.
And so, in the eyes of these students, sitting for this particular prefecture examination would be “of no use whatsoever.”
As though they were so self-assured that simply by taking part, they would naturally rise to the top of the rankings.
Pei Shaohuai, who had taken up residence in the examination hall several days early, was at this point completely “cut off from the world,” entirely unaware of the gossip circulating outside. His mind was wholly occupied with the task of composing the examination questions.
These questions were considerably more challenging to devise than those of the county examination. For one thing, Quanzhou Prefecture had just dealt with several powerful clans, and their ties to the local population were numerous and entangled — selecting genuinely useful talent from among those with such connections was no easy matter. For another, others might not know Pei Shaohuai’s scholarly credentials, but the Education Superintendent certainly would. The candidates selected through the prefecture examination still needed to be of a certain caliber, to give the Education Superintendent a satisfactory accounting.