In the twelfth lunar month, the first snow had arrived.

The year was drawing to a close, and with it, the snow fell heavily.

There was no early court session today, so he could go to the government office a little later. As dawn was barely breaking, Pei Shaohuai rose and dressed. He had not yet pushed open the door and windows when he already heard the sound of wind and snow outside.

The wild wind howled like a horn; the falling snow struck the eaves of the terrace.

In the light of the morning lamp, Pei Shaohuai was fastening the inner belt of his garments. Shiyue took a large overcoat from the clothes chest and helped him put it on, telling him: “My lord, dress warmly — be careful of the cold inside the carriage on the road.”

She opened half a window panel slightly, and the biting wind immediately came swirling in along with the snow, startling her into quickly pulling her hand back. Yang Shiyue then murmured: “In winter one should eat nourishing food. For the evening meal, I’ll have the nanny make a braised mutton pot. My lord, remember to come home early.”

Pei Shaohuai agreed.

After the morning meal, it had grown light. Pei Shaohuai was about to set out with his umbrella when Xiao Nan and Xiao Feng came running out of the room in wild excitement, wearing their fluffy tiger-head hats. They pressed their foreheads against the corner of the wall and peered out, laughing: “Father, what a heavy snow today!”

Pei Shaohuai looked up as snowflakes drifted past his eyes.

Indeed — such heavy snow.

A heavy snowfall filled winter’s mood to the brim — bare branches shed the last of their leaves, white snow carpeted the courtyard and steps, and the warm smoky breath of the household fire was visible to the eye; open the door and it would dissolve into a wisp of smoke.

Many matters left unfinished in autumn would not stop on account of a snowfall — they would only scatter into thousands of homes and households, carrying on by the side of the firewood stacks.

Pei Shaohuai did not restrain Xiao Nan and Xiao Feng from playing in the snow, but merely instructed: “Go and have your morning meal first. Only when you have eaten your fill, dressed warmly, and the sky has fully brightened may you go out to play in the snow.”

Thinking of his own childhood — how every time one of the twenty-four solar terms arrived, Tutor Duan would take them — all the boys — out to observe the scenery, using what they saw to test their learning — Pei Shaohuai added: “Wait until tomorrow’s day off from duties. Father will take you to the lakeside to view the snow.”

He would also invite Yancheng and Shaojin, and bring along their children too — sitting by the lakeside, warming wine and talking at ease. That way, the refined appreciation that the tutor had taught them would be passed down to the next generation as well.

Xiao Nan and Xiao Feng were overjoyed.

The carriage wheels crunched through the snow, leaving two deep tracks behind.

Passing through the busy market streets, the heavy snow could not dampen the enthusiasm of the people rushing to make their purchases. Stall vendors had set up early, and elderly men and women hurrying to catch the morning market came with their baskets. Since the reopening of the tea-horse trade at Datong, a large shipment of frozen mutton had been transported from Datong into the capital, becoming a sought-after commodity — good quality at a fair price.

“Light snow: salt the vegetables; heavy snow: salt the meat” — with a little spare money from growing and weaving cotton, who wouldn’t take advantage of the season to cure a few strings of meat?

Watching everyone breathe out little puffs of warm air, Pei Shaohuai felt as though the inside of the carriage had grown a few degrees warmer.

Upon arriving at the Bureau of Merit Assessment, the chair had barely had time to warm before a palace attendant came to pass on word that His Majesty had summoned him. Pei Shaohuai had no choice but to set down his just-inked writing brush and follow along to the imperial study.

Pei Shaohuai could guess what the Emperor wished to discuss with him.

In the late autumn and early winter, the court had organized two examination sessions in accordance with the new official evaluation system, with the Emperor as the chief examiner, the Ministry of Personnel as the assistant examiner, and the Censorate as the supervising body.

The first session at the end of autumn had examined capital officials, intended to assess and confirm the merits of their six years of service, examine their administrative competence, and ultimately determine whether they would be promoted, laterally transferred, demoted, or dismissed.

The results of the first evaluation session had already been released.

Coming so soon after the Prince of Huai’s coup, a large number of people had already been dealt with, and the court was in urgent need of capable officials. In order to stabilize morale, the court had not dismissed or demoted a great many officials this year.

Yet the effect was nonetheless striking.

Through the examination sessions, the court made it absolutely clear to all officials: if one wished to be promoted, both genuine and concrete merit and true ability and learning were required. The days of “sweeping all under heaven with a polished essay and buying one’s way up through bribes and flattery” were gone, never to return.

Officials who shirked their duties and sought to exploit situations through cunning would inevitably be exposed in the increasingly rigorous examination sessions, year after year.

The second examination session in early winter assessed officials stationed outside the capital.

Many positions in the capital were vacant and urgently needed a first-rate selection of clean and capable officials to fill them. Through an investigation of past merits, supplemented by recommendations from the Grand Secretariat, the six ministries, the nine high offices, and the ten circuits of inspection, the first group of officials arrived in the capital to undergo the court’s evaluation.

The results of this session had not yet been announced.

It was likely that the Emperor’s summons of Pei Shaohuai was to deliberate on this matter.

……

Pei Shaohuai came before the imperial study and was about to remove his hooded cloak and brush off the lingering snow when he saw that in the pavilion connected by the covered walkway, the Emperor — wearing his own large overcoat — was waving him over. Warm air billowed out from the entire pavilion, becoming a mist and cloud amid the heavy snowfall.

Pei Shaohuai trotted over. The moment he entered the pavilion, a rich fragrance of warm wine enveloped him.

The Emperor personally poured him a cup and said with cheerful delight: “Regarding the officials proposed for appointment, We have looked over all of their records and examination papers.” It being the first year of the new official evaluation system, the Emperor naturally paid it special attention.

He continued: “We did not expect that beyond the capital, there would be so many gems of genuine ability and insight. Our eyes have been far too narrow in the past.”

Pei Shaohuai said: “It is not that Your Majesty’s vision was narrow — it is that the prevailing practice of clique-forming and personal favoritism in the court has blocked Your Majesty’s line of sight, and has also dimmed the radiance of these hidden gems.”

When promotions are fair and capable officials rise — only then can the court grow ever stronger.

A single flower in bloom is not spring; a hundred flowers blooming in unison makes spring fill the garden.

“However…” The Emperor’s tone suddenly shifted, and he asked: “Among the officials recommended by the Bureau of Merit Assessment, quite a few of them expressed views in their examination papers running counter to ‘opening maritime trade.’ We wish to know, Boyuan — why did you recommend them?”

“Your subject believes: so long as they are honest in their conduct, devoted to the people, and capable — what does it matter if they argue against your subject from time to time?” In truth those officials were arguing against the Emperor; Pei Shaohuai had deliberately turned it toward himself.

The fact that the Emperor had raised this matter specifically was enough to suggest just how disagreeable those officials’ written responses must have been.

Pei Shaohuai continued: “Your subject is no perfect man and must have blind spots, things I cannot see clearly and cannot reason through, things I handle wrongly. Having other colleagues to illuminate your subject’s dark corners is a good thing… The court cannot have only one voice.”

Partisan infighting and hidden scheming stir everything into murky water — that is not good. And yet making everything one man’s word with an atmosphere of absolute harmony is not good either.

The Emperor was momentarily taken aback by what Pei Shaohuai said, but immediately broke into laughter and said: “Boyuan, you grow ever more devious in your speech. We penalize you a cup.”

Ruler and official sat in the pavilion watching the snow, cups exchanged between them, both in their hearts envisioning year after year of improving times.

……

In a wide lane outside the East Flowery Gate, the court had constructed several residences here for the temporary use of officials arriving in the capital.

Snow pressed heavy on the eaves, icicles hung upside down from the roof tiles, and inside the rooms several officials sat around a charcoal brazier drinking tea, chatting and laughing.

One man among them, named Xu Bao, was over forty years of age. He took a sip of tea, a worried expression on his face, and said: “I am afraid this trip of mine will once again come to nothing — that I will let down Minister Ma’s recommendation.”

The others were all astonished. Someone said: “Magistrate Xu’s achievements over these past dozen or more years are exceptional, your ranking is near the top, and the examination questions are certainly no match for you — why would you say something so dispiriting?”

In their view, Xu Bao’s appointment to the capital was a sure thing.

“You are not aware of the details.” Xu Bao’s face bore a worried look, yet there was no remorse. He said: “On the final question of the examination session, His Majesty asked about maritime trade. In the heat of the moment on the examination floor, I poured out every last thought I had on the matter all at once. I am afraid my views will not be to His Majesty’s liking.”

Several of the others drew in a sharp breath. They all knew: Xu Bao was opposed to the opening of maritime trade.

And he was extraordinarily stubborn about it.

Xu Bao said: “The court opens maritime trade for commerce, and growing mulberry and cotton becomes immensely profitable. Merchants will therefore find every possible means to push the common people into abandoning the growing of grain in favor of mulberry and cotton. At first, perhaps no harm will be apparent, but as time goes on and more and more farmland is devoted to mulberry and cotton, the farmland producing grain grows less and less. By then, from where will the common people obtain their grain?”

“Do any of you think that in the Jiangnan region, there was too little of the tragedy known as ‘silkworms devouring people’ in earlier years? Do we truly wish to see such calamities repeated again?” The more Xu Bao spoke, the more agitated he became. “And so your humble servant had no choice but to speak plainly.”

Someone felt sorry on his behalf and sighed: “The court implements the new official evaluation system — a chance finally arrived after so long a wait, and Magistrate Xu has let it slip away just like that. What a pity. Was there anything that could not have been said in a memorial after entering the capital?”

Xu Bao replied: “If one cannot speak plainly in an examination session, then I’m afraid this new official evaluation system and the old one are not so very different from each other.”

At this, the two men had a rather unpleasant exchange.

Just at that moment, a colleague had returned from the palace and, entering the room, smiled and cupped his hands toward Xu Bao: “Congratulations, Lord Xu.”

“I cannot imagine what occasion calls for congratulations.”

“Just moments ago, the court posted the list of capital appointments in front of the Hall of Literary Glory. Lord Xu’s name is clearly there — he is to serve in the Ministry of Personnel.”

“Is that true?” Xu Bao could not believe it.

“How could I speak frivolously about something like this?”

……

……

The Emperor had already ennobled Pei Shaohuai as the “Marquis of Wenqing.” The Ministry of Rites and the Ministry of Works received the imperial decree and supervised the production of the citation and iron investiture certificate.

First, the Hanlin Academy drafted the citation text, spelling out the official’s meritorious deeds and the Emperor’s gracious bestowment, after which the citation was handed to the Ministry of Works.

The Bureau of Waterways under the Ministry of Works cast the iron certificate according to the text, and then sent it to the Silver Workshop to have the characters engraved and filled with gold — only then could the final iron certificate of investiture be completed.

The iron certificate was divided in two: the left certificate was kept by the Imperial Household Department, stored in the repository of ancient and modern collections, while the right certificate was bestowed upon the meritorious official.

On this day, the Ministry of Rites received the certificate, prepared all the ceremonial details, and proceeded to the Pei residence to deliver the imperial decree in formal proclamation.

The ceremonial procession set out in imposing fashion from the imperial avenue. The iron certificate of investiture was positioned at the very front, its half-arc curved tile-like shape drawing every eye.

The members of the Pei household knelt to receive the edict. The rites official read aloud: “By the grace of Heaven and the mandate carried by the Emperor, it is decreed — this capable official possesses inward integrity and loyalty, and outwardly defends against enemy armies, having established remarkable and extraordinary merit. The state rightfully bestows upon him high noble rank and generous emoluments…”

“…You, Pei Shaohuai, are endowed with a pure and honest nature, upright and virtuous in character, brilliant in decisive judgment, having faced the enemy and achieved victory, and possessed of talent fit to bear great responsibilities.”

“…You are hereby specially elevated to Vigorously Revered Grand Master, Pillar of the State, and Marquis of Wenqing, with an annual stipend of one thousand one hundred shi of grain, the title to be hereditary through your descendants for generations. Furthermore, We make this covenant with you: excepting treason, which shall not be pardoned, for all other capital offenses of lesser category, you yourself shall be pardoned twice from the death penalty, and your son pardoned once, in recognition of your merit.”

“Your subject, with all due reverence and humility, receives the imperial edict and is grateful for His Majesty’s gracious bestowment.”

The following day, Pei Shaohuai entered the palace as protocol required to express his gratitude. So as to conveniently return to the government office to continue handling official business after giving his thanks, he did not wear the full layered ceremonial robes of a marquis, and instead entered the palace in an ordinary round-collared official’s robe — as casually as if he were taking a stroll — and made his way to the imperial study.

In his hand he also carried a small box, inside which sat a white porcelain tea bowl.

The Emperor opened the box and looked at the familiar white porcelain bowl, then glanced at the floral bird-patterned celadon bowl that had sat on the imperial desk for several months, and said: “Did you not tell Commander Yan some time ago that this bowl was one of a kind — one and only one of its kind?”

Pei Shaohuai only then recalled that he had indeed said something of the sort.

The Emperor continued to tease him: “If We were to bestow a dukedom upon you, would you be able to bring eight or ten more of them from home?”

Even as he teased Pei Shaohuai with words, his body told another story entirely: he passed the white porcelain bowl to a palace attendant and said: “Going forward, use this bowl for drinking tea.”

Pei Shaohuai smiled awkwardly and shook his head in response, saying: “There are not as many as eight or ten — now that this one has been given away, only six remain.”

……

After leaving the palace, Pei Shaohuai went, as was his habit, to the Xu household to look in on his tutor, and then returned home afterward.

The winter solstice brought a bone-deep chill.

Another winter had come, and the tutor’s cold ailment had grown considerably more severe. Thinking on this, Pei Shaohuai could not help but feel his heart heavy with worry.

Birth, aging, illness, and death are matters of constant occurrence in this world. He knew full well that time hastens people along toward their end, as inevitable as a performance nearing its close — yet when it came to Tutor Duan, it became a threshold that Pei Shaohuai was never willing to bring himself to speak of or step across.

Arriving at the Xu household, the tutor, upon hearing that Pei Shaohuai had received the iron certificate of investiture, smiled with great delight — even the wrinkles on his face seemed to smooth out a little.

“Boyuan, help me light the candle lamp on the writing desk,” Tutor Duan said suddenly.

It was the lamp he used to read by at night in former times. Unfortunately, it had been a very long time since Tutor Duan had been able to sit at his writing desk.

“Your student will light it right away.”

Pei Shaohuai blew the tinder to flame, but found that the candle in the lamp had burned down to no more than an inch — on the very verge of being spent. Struck by the sight, he stood motionless. A few moments later, he came back to himself and said: “Your student will go and fetch a candle.”

“Boyuan, come back,” Tutor Duan said. “What your student wants to light is precisely this last inch of remaining candle… Let it be kindled once more and shine bright one final time.”

Hearing these words, Pei Shaohuai’s eyes had already begun to redden. He did not dare turn around to face his tutor.

Tutor Duan continued: “Tomorrow, bring Zhengguan and Yunci to me. And let Zhongya bring Zhengxu as well. I have been missing them these past days.” He suppressed his voice and coughed softly a few times. “While the weather has cleared these two days, I will give them their initiation into learning… I cannot delay their studies any longer.”