After the new year, several of the senior Grand Secretaries retired from office one after another. The forty-year-old Pei Shaohuai was appointed Chief Grand Secretary.

The old Emperor issued one final imperial decree — following in the tradition of teachers and scholars, a restructuring of academic disciplines was carried out, restoring the splendor of the ancient Grand Academy.

After that, Yan Ze stepped down entirely from the imperial throne, and the new Emperor Yan Youzheng ascended and assumed the imperial throne.

……

As early as the Zhou dynasty, the name “Grand Academy” had already existed. The place where noble-born sons studied was called the Grand Academy.

In the Han dynasty, the court established the Imperial Capital University, with Confucian learning as the orthodox curriculum. The Imperial Capital University was called the Grand Academy.

In the Jin dynasty, a National Sons Academy was separately established for the children of high-ranking officials and noblemen to study alongside the Grand Academy.

After the turbulence of the Northern and Southern Dynasties, the Sui and Tang dynasties restored unity. The court merged the Grand Academy and the National Sons Academy into one, calling it the National Academy. Scholars from ten thousand lands came to court, all competing for a single place in the National Academy.

This system continued without change from then on.

As the court’s approach to appointing officials evolved and every trade and industry across the land rose to flourish, many academic disciplines and systems of study also took on a quality of “discarding the old and bringing forth the new.” The talent cultivation model of Da Qing’s National Academy had long since been unable to meet the demands of the times.

In order to set an exemplary standard for county and prefectural academies, village and clan schools, and private study halls at every level across the land — and so that more learned and capable individuals might have the opportunity to give full expression to their talents — Pei Shaohuai would personally spearhead the revival of the “Grand Academy.”

This time, the Grand Academy would no longer be the exclusive domain of the descendants of emperors, princes, and nobles. The Grand Academy would be a Grand Academy for all people under heaven.

In addition, with the rise of handicraft industries and an increasingly prosperous standard of living, more and more women had stepped out of the inner chambers and were active in every trade and profession.

Yet traditional notions such as “men and women are distinct” and “men and women should not touch each other’s hands in passing objects” were not something that could be transformed overnight. Pei Shaohuai knew better than to act in haste. He decided first to take a step back and begin with establishing schools for women.

He believed that a hundred years hence, the day would surely come when men and women studied together in the Grand Academy.

……

……

On this day, there was cause for celebration at the Earl of Jingchuan’s residence — a banquet was being held to celebrate the Countess’s birthday.

Fine horses and carved carriages arrived in a steady bustle. The main gates of the residence opened one after another.

Of all who came, the one who arrived with the greatest “ceremony” was Second Elder Sister Pei Ruolan and her family. Pei Ruolan walked at the front with her arm linked through Situ Yang’s, followed by her two daughters, and the two “excellent scholars” whom Pei Shaohuai had helped introduce as sons-in-law — refined and scholarly in manner.

The two sons-in-law carried and led small children in their arms and by their hands.

Son Situ Qianting had found little success in literary studies and sat for the military imperial examinations, following Situ Yang’s path of a military official. He had married the youngest daughter of the Duke of Britain, and this couple too had come with their children and family in tow.

Counting carefully, Second Elder Sister’s extended family alone amounted to no fewer than fifteen people — four horse-drawn carriages were not enough to seat everyone.

……

Once everyone had arrived and taken their places, they offered their birthday greetings to Lin Shi in order of seniority. In the main hall, the one who was busiest was not the birthday honoree Lin Shi — it was Pei Yunci, who flitted here and there like the wind.

With the establishment of a women’s school in the capital, Pei Shaohuai had asked his daughter to help manage its affairs. A sudden inspiration struck Yunci, and she decided to take advantage of today’s festive gathering to “recruit talents,” so that the faculty of the women’s school might rise to an even higher level.

The first person Yunci managed to persuade was Aunt Pei Ruozhu.

“Of course, of course — whatever you say, Aunt will agree,” said Pei Ruozhu. The older she grew, the more spirited and determined her manner became, and there was a brisk and decisive quality to everything she said and did. She continued: “How could Aunt possibly refuse anything when it comes to our dear little Feng?”

Then she added: “Not only is Aunt willing to go and teach — tomorrow Aunt will take you around to the various workshops and pick out whoever you think can be useful. They will surely be happy to teach their skills to the female students.”

“Aunt is the best.”

After the forced dissolution of her cotton weaving workshop some years ago, Pei Ruozhu had not let that stop her. She had busied herself going from place to place, seeking out more means of livelihood for women.

The success of growing and weaving cotton had shown her that what women could do was by no means limited to serving their husbands, raising their children, and taking care of the household.

Riding the favorable winds brought by the opening of maritime trade, Pei Ruozhu had led groups of women in setting up many women’s workshops in the area around the capital — some making food and drink, some roasting tea, some carving jade and gilding metal, some brewing sugar, some making paper, and some writing story pamphlets and composing opera scripts… In short, for any occupation that could genuinely help women earn a livelihood and establish themselves, Pei Ruozhu spared no expense in giving it a try.

On one hand she would pay handsomely to hire master craftsmen to pass on their skills, and on the other she would pool together everyone’s wisdom to improve the tools and raise production efficiency.

Refined by the skillful hands of women, the products from Pei Ruozhu’s workshops had a particular delicacy and were extremely well received — sold far and wide overseas, in greater demand than the supply could meet.

“There is something Aunt must remind you of,” Pei Ruozhu said. “Don’t think only of inviting me while overlooking the person right beside you. Let Aunt tell you — your mother and your Fourth Aunt are both people of remarkable ability. You had best invite them too.”

“I have thought of that — Mother has already agreed.” Pei Yunci leaned toward her aunt’s ear and said with a pleased and secretive air: “Just the night before last, I also got from Mother the embroidery patterns for Da Qing silver coins. I plan to frame each of those handkerchiefs and hang them in the school’s gallery of learning.”

The silver coins that circulate across the entire realm, their exquisitely beautiful patterns — born from a woman’s embroidery needle. The significance of this was profound.

The fingertips of women would no longer be devoted solely to mending garments for husband and children, managing the trivial affairs of the household.

When people of the world run their fingers over the engraved patterns on a silver coin and learn that they were born from a woman’s hand, it can encourage women to no longer belittle themselves, and also remind men not to be arrogant and overbearing.

Pei Yunci then came to stand beside Fourth Aunt Pei Ruoying.

Pei Ruoying, being a physician, dressed in simple and plain garments. The beauty and elegance of her former years had not diminished.

After hearing what Xiao Feng had come for, Pei Ruoying showed some hesitation and replied: “Fourth Aunt is afraid she cannot find the time to come this month — the latest issue of the Compendium of Medical Learning is nearly ready to go to print, and yesterday the relay station delivered a thick bundle of manuscripts, said to have been delayed in delivery due to an oversight. With time pressing, over the coming period the major medical halls will be occupied with sorting through the submitted manuscripts to determine their quality and whether they qualify for publication.”

She was one of the editors of the Compendium of Medical Learning.

Pei Ruoying was devoted heart and soul to medicine; her husband Chen Xingchen was devoted heart and soul to mathematics. Twenty years had passed, and the two of them had long since ceased to find satisfaction in conducting research alone with their heads down.

To discuss matters with scholars from all under heaven, to learn from one another and supplement each other’s knowledge, to absorb new ideas — that was the way to go further.

With the development of official gazettes and the printing industry, and with the assistance of Grand Secretary Pei, two publications — Da Qing’s Compendium of Medical Learning and Miscellany of Investigations into Things — came into being in response to the times.

Being authoritative and novel, these two monthly publications became best-sellers at every major bookshop almost immediately upon their release.

Pei Yunci understood what was urgent and what could wait. She said: “Then let Fourth Aunt attend first to the monthly publication — we can discuss the rest once this busy period has passed.”

Pei Ruoying thought for a moment and suggested: “You might as well have your cousin sister Yinyin come over to teach some basic knowledge of medicine. The deeper theories of medicine and pharmacology can only be approached step by step — there is no way to rush it.”

The only daughter of Chen Xingchen and Pei Ruoying, known by her childhood name Yinyin, had followed in her mother’s footsteps. Building on her mother’s foundation and incorporating the knowledge of investigating things she had learned from her father, she had gradually felt her way toward a new path.

“Fourth Aunt is absolutely right — then let us agree to that.” Yunci said with delight.

With Mother, Aunt, and Fourth Aunt behind them, the women’s school was sure to make a name for itself very quickly.

With Cousin Yinyin coming over, it would also mean being able to bring along her father’s most accomplished student Wu Jianqing, making it possible to open one more course in astronomy and the calendar.

The mental abacus in Yunci’s head clicked and clattered away.

Wu Jianqing, as Pei Shaohuai’s student and recipient of the old Emperor’s recognition and reward, had long since been freed from the Imperial Observatory. When he turned twenty, Pei Shaohuai urged him to give some thought to the matter of personal marriage. Wu Jianqing, with his heart entirely absorbed in astronomical observation and calendar calculation, did not take his teacher’s words to heart.

As it turned out, at a family banquet at the Marquis of Wenqing’s residence, Wu Jianqing happened to catch sight of Teacher Pei’s niece, Yinyin.

After that, he found he could never quite look away again.

……

The sun climbed gradually higher; it was nearly time to open the noon banquet.

Brother-in-law Situ Yang said teasingly: “It’s almost time for the midday meal — why is there still no sign of our Grand Secretary Pei?”

“Dear brother-in-law, please don’t tease him,” Yang Shiyue replied. “When my lord left this morning, he said there were still some official matters at court to be seen to, and that he would return once they were done.” She glanced at the sundial in the courtyard and continued: “At this hour, he should already be on his way back.”

“And where is our great-nephew?” Situ Yang asked.

Yang Shiyue only then noticed that Pei Zhengguan, having spoken his birthday wishes to his grandmother, had slipped away somewhere without anyone noticing — no wonder something had felt missing a moment ago.

“Zhengxu, where is your elder brother?” Yang Shiyue asked.

“Auntie, I haven’t seen Elder Brother Xiao Nan for a while either,” came the reply.

“That unruly boy…”

……

A quiet and secluded little alley, utterly still — when suddenly a peddler’s cry for wine broke through.

In a small alley beside the side gate of the Earl’s residence, a handsome young man and a spirited young woman stood facing each other, warmth and affection flowing between them.

These two were none other than Pei Zhengguan and Yan Yi’er.

Before meeting Xiao Nan and Xiao Feng, Xiao Yi’er had been somewhat timid and shy. After playing with Xiao Nan and Xiao Feng, she had grown increasingly lively and cheerful.

At this moment, Yan Yi’er showed no trace of a young woman’s bashfulness. With Zhengguan, her manner was close and natural. She lightly lifted her willow-green pleated skirt and gave a little twirl, asking: “Xiao Nan, Brother, do you think Grandmother will like me in this dress?”

“She will, of course she will,” Zhengguan replied. “Every time you come, Grandmother is extremely happy.”

Yan Yi’er’s face lit up with delight. She gauged the time and said: “The noon banquet is about to start — Brother Xiao Nan, you had better go back. I need to go too… wait until after noon, I’ll come again with Father and Mother to offer birthday greetings.”

The noon banquet was for the Pei family to gather by themselves first. After noon was when other relatives and friends would come to offer their congratulations.

With that, Yan Yi’er trotted away from the alley, the small silver bell on her hairpin chiming softly and without cease.

Zhengguan was still gazing after her with a captivated look when a “cough, cough” sounded from the other end of the alley. He jumped in startlement and turned to look — and there was his father, dressed in his official’s robe, walking toward him in an unhurried manner.

“Father didn’t mean to overhear — I happened to be on my way back from the palace and was going to cut through the alley as a shortcut,” Pei Shaohuai said, easing the awkwardness. His son was already twenty years old, yet he felt rather like a parent who had caught their child in an early romance. He added: “Even so, Father still has to ask… how long has this been going on?”

Pei Shaohuai was somewhat surprised, because in his everyday life his son was extremely earnest and quiet in his studies and his work — so earnest that one might have thought he had no thoughts of love at all. Yet on second thought: “the south wind knows my heart” — the two of them had grown up together as childhood friends. It was natural and inevitable, and not surprising at all.

Pei Shaohuai also asked with curiosity: “How did the two of you slip past your Commander Yan’s eyes?”

Yan Chengzhao — a man who had built his career on intelligence work, and was a thorough and devoted father — could not possibly have let Yi’er go unwatched.

To “take Yi’er away” from under his nose was like walking a tightrope across a thousand miles.

“It’s hard to say exactly how long,” Zhengguan answered. Even he and Yi’er themselves did not know when it had begun — so how could they say how long it had been? He continued: “As for Commander Yan, Yi’er knows his habits. Slipping past Commander Yan’s attention is… not actually that difficult.”

Pei Shaohuai felt a degree of sympathy with Yan Chengzhao — for he too had been given the slip.

He tapped his son lightly on the head and said: “You, you — do you not know what Commander Yan’s temperament is like? Do you not know that he is a thoroughly devoted father? To aspire to be his son-in-law, you truly have remarkable boldness.”

“Father, please stop talking about your son,” Zhengguan said. “Your son is nothing like you were, hemming and hawing when you met Mother at the Lantern Festival.”

“You little rascal…” Pei Shaohuai feigned anger. “The business of going to the Commandery Prince’s residence to propose marriage — figure that out yourself. I’m washing my hands of it.”

“Please, Father — your son knows he was wrong.”

Father and son walked on, talking and laughing, and came out of the alley, entering the Earl’s residence.

Just in time for the banquet to begin. The whole family drank, chatted, and reveled in each other’s company.

The greatest joy in life: cups raised low and high, wine and poetry pledging to meet again this same day next year, as the sound of well-wishes from every dear one fades into strong tea and rich wine.

Pei Shaohuai came to his mother’s side. He was already forty years old. Lin Shi narrowed her eyes with a smile and said: “Even my Huai’er already has a touch of white at both temples.”

The words carried a note of tender concern.

Pei Shaohuai reflected with feeling — to be with his parents until their hair turned white. To be a filial child to one’s parents — what greater fulfillment in filial piety and righteousness could there be than this?

……

A few days later, at the Commandery Prince’s residence.

Since the new Emperor had ascended the throne, Yan Chengzhao had resigned from his posts with the Divine Strategy Army and the Northern Garrison Command and managed only the Southern Garrison Command on its own — and so had a good deal more leisure time.

Pei Shaohuai walked into the Prince’s residence with a pleasant smile, and before Yan Chengzhao could rise to greet his guest, sat himself down. As he poured tea he said with an air of envy: “I truly envy the Prince — idle duty beyond the palace walls, and still drawing his salary. Unlike me, entangled in an endless pile of affairs.”

“What wind has blown Chief Grand Secretary Pei our way today?”

“It has been a while since we last met. I came for an idle chat.”

“Did we not just meet a few days ago when I came to offer birthday greetings at your residence?” Having spent so much time with Pei Shaohuai, Yan Chengzhao had long since come to know his habit of never calling on someone “without a purpose.”

Pei Shaohuai changed the subject several times before finally steering the conversation toward the matter of their children’s marriage. He put on an air of having just recalled it and said: “Ah, right — Yi’er must be nineteen now. Shouldn’t the Prince start looking around for a good son-in-law?”

At the mention of this, Yan Chengzhao reclined back in his chair, an expression of wistful reluctance on his face. He gave only a cold “mm” in reply.

“How about I, as her uncle by kinship, help take a look on your behalf?” Pei Shaohuai offered.

Yan Chengzhao said nothing.

Pei Shaohuai ventured: “What about last year’s top graduate in the military examinations? He distinguished himself with outstanding military merit the very moment he assumed his frontier post.”

“A mere man of arms.”

“Then what about Compiler Li from the Hanlin Academy? Eloquent and well-spoken, with exceedingly solid scholarship.”

“Frail as a chicken.”

“This one won’t do either…” Pei Shaohuai pondered for a moment, then continued to “recommend.” “What about Chief Clerk Liao from the Ministry of War? He has been to the frontier to supervise armies, and is a Second Class Presented Scholar besides.”

“Too old. Undistinguished in appearance.”

Pei Shaohuai counted on his fingers: “Must not be too reckless, yet must not be too bookish. Must be talented and gifted, yet also young, of good bearing and fine looks…” He put on a look of great difficulty, then abruptly shifted his tone. “All things considered, of all the people your subject knows, only one remaining person can satisfy the Prince’s requirements.”

Yan Chengzhao suddenly sat upright and asked: “Who?” He was not truly curious to know who it was — he was merely startled that there could actually still be anyone who met the conditions he had named.

Pei Shaohuai wore a face full of smiles and said slowly: “What do you think of our Zhengguan?”

Yan Chengzhao immediately understood the roundabout Pei Shaohuai had been talking him through. Furious, he rose and paced back and forth, and said indignantly: “You took away my Night Luminous Pearl, and now the Pei family has the audacity to set its sights on my Yi’er.”

He was fuming on one hand, yet on the other could find no reason to refuse.

If even the Pei family’s son was not acceptable, who on earth was Yi’er to marry?

Pei Shaohuai coaxed him: “Prince, there is no need to be so petty… You and I — our two families have no barrier of marriage between us. If this could come to be, my family gains a fine daughter-in-law, and your family gains a fine son-in-law. Would that not be a perfect arrangement for both sides?”

……

After Pei Shaohuai left, Yan Chengzhao, “furious beyond measure,” deliberately summoned his son and “reprimanded” him: “Why can’t you make something of yourself and find a way to bring that daughter of your Uncle Pei into our household?”

The young Prince Heir shook his head repeatedly and said with conviction: “Father, please don’t talk such nonsense. Between me and Elder Sister Xiao Feng, there is only the affection of elder sister and younger brother.”

Then he said: “Elder Sister Xiao Feng is such a remarkable woman — one in a hundred years. She always does things entirely on her own terms. The man who can marry Elder Sister Xiao Feng would have to either surpass her in scholarship and ability in every respect, or be someone who can quietly stand by her side through everything… As it happens, your son fits neither description.”

Yan Chengzhao grew even more irritated.

……

……

“The sun and moon race on and will not linger; spring and autumn in succession replace each other.”

Days and months exchanged, stars shifted and seasons turned.

It seemed as though just yesterday Pei Shaohuai and Yan Chengzhao had been quarreling over Zhengguan and Yi’er’s marriage — and in what felt like the blink of an eye, grandchildren had arrived, and the business of choosing names for the grandchildren set him and Yan Chengzhao at odds all over again without end. Then, in another blink, the grandchildren had studied, married, and had children of their own, and Pei Shaohuai found himself a great-grandfather.

Hearing her husband recount the amusing tales of the old Emperor and of Yan Chengzhao — stories she had heard countless times over — Yang Shiyue still could not help but laugh with a cheerful warmth each time.

“If a person were to know from birth how their life would unfold — how could they face the span of several decades with any measure of calm?” Pei Shaohuai suddenly reflected aloud.

“That would surely require tremendous courage and strength of spirit,” Yang Shiyue replied. She did not know the answer to the question, but looking at the old man beside her — white-haired, bent with age, and yet still so refined and scholarly in his bearing — she said: “All I know is that no matter how many lifetimes there might be, if I were to know from birth that there was a person like you, I would still wish to pass through every spring and autumn, and meet with you again.”

This time it was Pei Shaohuai’s turn to laugh with cheerful warmth.

“As would I.”

The following afternoon, Pei Shaohuai lay in a reclining chair in the courtyard, rocking gently back and forth, enjoying the slanted rays of the autumn sun.

Beyond the courtyard, a group of young boys had just returned from school and were playing a spirited game of cuju in the wide lane. Their bright, clear shouts drifted in from time to time, making the afternoon feel as though time itself had slowed a few moments.

Before long, a young servant carried out another reclining chair and set it down beside Pei Shaohuai’s.

Pei Shaojin — equally white-haired — lay back in it, and the two brothers rocked gently side by side, gazing in silence at the withered and yellowing leaves at the tips of the branches.

A yellow leaf was startled loose by the autumn wind, tumbling and drifting through several lazy arcs before sliding past Pei Shaohuai’s eyes and falling away.

“One moment of flourishing, one moment of decay; one moment of spring dew, one moment of autumn frost.” Pei Shaohuai asked again the question he had asked the night before: “Younger brother, if a person were to know from birth how their whole life and story would unfold — how could they live out those several decades without passing them in vain?”

Pei Shaojin replied: “‘Year after year the flowers are just the same; yet the people, year after year, are not.’ If one truly knew from birth how everything would unfold — would it not be that from the very moment of knowing, everything that followed would already be different?”

Even with few years remaining to them, the two brothers still engaged in scholarly discussion as they always had, as if no time had passed at all.

Having talked over the learning found in books, they had moved on to talking over the learning found in life.

“Indeed — from the very beginning, it would already be different.” Pei Shaohuai smiled with contentment, and then said: “A person comes into this world by a thread of fate, and it must be because there is still something in their heart they seek. When a person at last departs from this world, it must also be that there is something they have found.”

His coming to live this life anew in this world was surely because there was something in this world that he had hoped for.

The young people in the lane outside finished their game of cuju, and still had not played enough — yet from every lane and alley in the neighborhood, the calls of mothers summoning their children home for dinner had begun to weave and echo through the air.

Time to go home.

A long silence passed, and Pei Shaojin called out: “Elder Brother?”

Still no reply.

Pei Shaojin’s body trembled as he rose from the reclining chair. He looked again — Elder Brother’s chair had stilled, and his expression was serene, as if he had simply fallen asleep.

Elder Brother’s hand had fallen to the ground. Pei Shaojin gently brushed away the dust and called out in a voice thick with grief: “Elder Brother, Elder Brother…”

Not far away, a servant noticed something was wrong, came running over, and took one look. He was about to cry out for help, but Pei Shaojin gave a quiet “shh” and stopped the servant from making any noise. He said softly: “Keep it quiet.”

Then he said: “Not daring to speak aloud, lest the sound disturb the one who has gone to the heavens above.”

Brothers who had grown up together, brothers who had promised to climb the tower together and reach for the stars — Elder Brother had taken a step ahead, returning to the sky, to become the stars that light the way for all the world.