On the day class was dismissed, Tutor Duan finished assigning the coursework, stroked his beard lightly, and said, “The autumn air is rich and the sky is clear and bright — such autumn scenery is not to be wasted. It is just the time for climbing to high ground, gazing far, and refreshing the spirit.”

All three of the young students assumed the tutor was going to take them out on an outing again.

To their surprise, the tutor turned and said instead, “Tomorrow is a rest day. I am going to Mangshan Temple to discuss the art of painting with Elder Master Wu — Shaojin, come to me tomorrow at the hour of Chen and we will go together.”

Ever since receiving the painting of the ancient pine from Old Master Wu the last time, Tutor Duan had formed a bond with him, occasionally having his manservants carry him up the mountain to visit Old Master Wu, and the two had become close friends.

Pei Shaojin was mildly startled, thinking he had misheard. Only when he saw the tutor looking at him did he bow and reply, “Yes, Tutor.” He wondered inwardly why the tutor was bringing only him this time.

On the way back to the mansion, Pei Shaojin shared his puzzlement with his elder brother.

Pei Shaohuai replied, “The tutor has his own deeper purpose — just follow along and go.”

The following morning, Tutor Duan took Pei Shaojin up the mountain. Entering Mangshan Temple, they saw that Old Master Wu’s painting studio was furnished with paper screens, stone pillows, and a bamboo platform bed — spare and uncluttered — save for the spread of rice paper and ink stone on the desk, which lay in some pleasant disorder, with a faint drift of sandalwood incense that set the mind at ease.

Old Master Wu brought out many paintings, and together with Tutor Duan they admired and discussed them with great pleasure, their conversation flowing freely.

Pei Shaojin simply sat quietly beside his tutor and listened.

After they had talked to their hearts’ content, Old Master Wu noticed Pei Shaojin and laughed cheerfully, saying to the tutor, “Master Duan, this young fellow you’ve brought is rather interesting — small as he is, he has sat here listening quietly for two or three hours without saying a word, and never grown drowsy.”

Tutor Duan smiled and replied, “He has a keen hunger for knowledge — you could talk for another two or three hours and he would still be able to listen.”

“The students Master Duan teaches are all exceptional people — to have such a disposition at this age.”

Tutor Duan smiled without replying further. Seeing that the hour was about right, he took his leave and they made their way down the mountain.

On the way down, Tutor Duan finally began to speak to Pei Shaojin. He first asked, “Shaojin, from today’s appreciation of the paintings, have you learned anything?”

Pei Shaojin thought for a moment before answering, “Brushwork and use of color are technique; the artistic conception is the very essence of painting. Elder Master Wu traveled extensively in his youth and beheld the landscapes of the world in all their breadth — that is why his brushwork shines so brilliantly.”

Tutor Duan nodded in approval. “Your powers of perception are very good.”

Pei Shaojin spoke up of his own accord, “But I do not understand what the tutor intends.”

“What you learn from books feels shallow; true understanding only comes through direct practice.” The tutor recited two lines from Lu You’s poem, then explained, “It is the same with studying. It is not enough to acquire knowledge solely from books — even if you recite a thousand volumes a day, if you do not grasp the inner meaning, it cannot become the philosophical foundation within your heart.”

Tutor Duan gently tapped Pei Shaojin’s head and said, “The allusions in books and the formal structure of the eight-legged essay are merely the techniques of writing. The true essence of an essay lies in its ‘artistic conception’ — you must first have genuine understanding and original insight of your own before you can tell others anything of worth. This is precisely what you are lacking at present… and it is, in particular, something that cannot be hurried.”

Tutor Duan then made his meaning plain: “Shaojin, you have been a little too eager for quick results of late. Study is not something that can be accomplished in a single morning.”

Pei Shaojin lowered his head and spoke from the heart, “I want to keep up with Elder Brother’s pace. I don’t want to fall behind.”

“In the human world, by the fourth month the flowers are fading; at a mountain temple, the peach blossoms are just beginning to bloom. Not every peach blossom in this world is meant to open in the same season.” This time, Tutor Duan did not explain in depth — he only asked, “Shaojin, can you work out the meaning for yourself?”

On the stone steps, Pei Shaojin slowed his pace, looked toward his tutor, and nodded. “I understand, Tutor… You are saying that it is not yet this student’s time to bloom.”

Tutor Duan smiled with warm satisfaction. “Good child — with the perseverance and perception you possess, there is no need to be in a hurry about anything.”

From that day on, whenever Pei Shaojin sat down to do his coursework and write his essays — ink already loaded on the brush, the tip nearly touching the paper — he would stop himself, set the brush on the ink stone, and close his eyes in quiet reflection.

The sentences he produced thereafter truly carried a deeper quality of meaning.

Once again it was the season of the autumn provincial examinations, and all across the capital one could see scholars who had come to sit the tests. On the day the results were posted, the hour of noon had already passed, and most of those who had come to view the list had dispersed. Pei Shaohuai was returning from a bookshop with some purchases and happened to pass by, so he stepped forward out of curiosity to take a look — to see which familiar faces from the capital had made the list and passed the provincial examinations.

By ill chance, he encountered Li the Third, Li Shuisheng, who was also looking at the list — he had evidently sat this year’s autumn examination.

Pei Shaohuai turned and walked away.

“Pei Gongzi, please wait.” Li the Third called after him, hurrying over with a look of shame on his face. He hemmed and hawed, wanting to ask something but unable to bring himself to, yet still driven by the longing in his heart, and finally he opened his mouth: “It has been a long time since I have heard any news from your household’s Third Young Miss — has anything happened?”

He stared at Pei Shaohuai, his eyes carrying a trace of worry.

“To ask after an unmarried young woman of another household in a public place where all eyes can see is hardly the conduct of a gentleman. Please conduct yourself with propriety.” Pei Shaohuai replied without courtesy, and without entangling himself further, he flicked his sleeve and left.

“I was too forward…” Li the Third murmured behind him, his expression sheepish and flushed with shame.

Once Tutor Duan understood that Pei Shaohuai was planning to sit the prefectural examination ahead of the usual time, he advised him, “Since you have made up your mind and your learning has reached the right stage, go ahead and try your strength — the Superintendent of Education will return to the capital at year’s end to test the scholars, so do not miss this opportunity.”

“This student understands.”

In the eleventh month, the prefectural government posted a notice announcing that the Superintendent of Education of Shuntian had returned to the capital from his inspection tour of the other prefectures of Northern Zhili. In the coming days he would lecture on the Confucian classics at the Shuntian Prefecture Academy, hold the annual evaluation of enrolled scholars, and personally test the scholars’ learning on the spot.

Although Pei Shaohuai and the other two were not students at the prefecture academy, they were still required to attend the Superintendent’s lectures and the annual evaluation — otherwise the title of “Pupil Scholar” would be stripped from them.

Once the news was out, the great many enrolled scholars within Shuntian Prefecture’s jurisdiction rushed to the prefecture academy from all over, taking up temporary lodgings nearby to wait for the Superintendent’s arrival, extremely eager — for the Superintendent was to be the chief examiner of the prefectural examination come the following June. Which scholar would not wish to make a good impression before the Superintendent?

On the fifth day of the month, Pei Shaohuai and the other two young students put on their pupil scholar robes and lined up outside the prefecture academy alongside the other pupil scholars, forming two rows to welcome the Superintendent’s arrival.

The bronze gong sounded, and atop an eight-man palanquin sat a small elderly man of more than fifty, his hair streaked with white. It was said that this Superintendent Zhao had originally served as a fifth-rank academician at the Hanlin Academy, and had only been appointed Superintendent of Education for Northern Zhili the previous year — his literary preferences were not yet widely known.

Though the post was only of the fifth rank, the Superintendent held authority over the educational governance of an entire province, a matter bearing on the moral instruction of the common people, and had always commanded great respect.

Today, Prefectural Governor Zhang of Shuntian had personally accompanied him.

After the palanquin had passed, two burly executioners appeared, carrying a large chest, following close behind the Superintendent into the prefecture academy.

Once the crowd had dispersed, Pei Shaojin, out of curiosity, asked his elder brother in a low voice, “Elder Brother, why does the Superintendent travel with two executioners? It looks quite frightening.”

“It was not his choice.” Pei Shaohuai replied. “It is a requirement set by the court… Can you guess what is inside that large chest?”

“What is in it?”

“A set of prisoner’s clothes and instruments of punishment.” Pei Shaohuai explained. “These are prepared for the Superintendent himself. The court’s meaning is this: the Superintendent of a province bears great responsibility — should he dare to practice corruption or deviate from impartiality, once the matter is investigated and confirmed, punishment will be carried out on the spot. That is why the executioners are kept at his side at all times, as a constant reminder to the Superintendent.”

“That truly sounds frightening.” Xu Yancheng shrank his neck and said, “I would never want to be a Superintendent — just imagining two executioners following at your heels, how would you have any peace of mind to deliver lectures and test the scholars?”

Pei Shaojin said, “I think it is a good thing. As long as impartiality is upheld, scholars of true talent throughout the realm will have a chance to serve as officials in the court.”

In the afternoon, all the enrolled scholars sat in orderly rows inside the prefecture academy to hear the Superintendent lecture.

The following day was the annual scholar evaluation. The test questions were not especially difficult — roughly comparable to the difficulty of the county examination — and anyone who had not been idle in their daily studies could complete them smoothly. Those who had barely scraped through the prefectural examination and had not been diligently reviewing their studies afterward would need to be careful: the annual evaluation scores were divided into six grades, and anyone placed in the lowest grade would lose their “Pupil Scholar” designation and revert to commoner status.

Several days later, the annual evaluation results were announced. Those ranked first or second grade were invited back to the prefecture academy to meet the Superintendent and Prefectural Governor Zhang in person, where Superintendent Zhao would personally test their learning on the spot. Pei Shaohuai was placed in the first grade; Pei Shaojin and Xu Yancheng were placed in the second grade — all three were on the list.

The tutor reminded Pei Shaojin and Xu Yancheng, “You two are not sitting next year’s prefectural examination, so just listen quietly — don’t say more than you should just to show off.”

“Yes, Tutor.”

On the day the scholars were tested, Superintendent Zhao set the following topic: “Troops and provisions are the grand strategy of the realm under Heaven.” He asked all the assembled scholars how they understood this statement.

It was a policy question on military affairs.

The scholars below, who had been preparing eagerly for some time, were naturally champing at the bit. A single word of praise from the Superintendent would make the title of Cultured Talent in next year’s examination as good as secured. Most spoke from various angles — “Before the troops advance, provisions must go first,” or “With ample troops and provisions, the morale of the army is greatly steadied,” or “The source of military strength” — their words ringing out with emphasis and eliciting waves of acclaim.

The Superintendent also gave a faint nod, though he did not comment further.

In the audience below, Pei Shaohuai quietly reflected: Superintendent Zhao, being a Hanlin civil official, had never concerned himself with military matters. Though he could easily have set questions on the Four Books and Five Classics, he had instead posed this topic of military strategy — he must have known the Prefectural Governor Zhang’s preferences and deliberately chosen it, since Prefectural Governor Zhang was a third-rank official, two full ranks above him. Since the question was clearly set with Prefectural Governor Zhang in mind, how well or poorly an answer was received would naturally depend on the Governor’s assessment.

Pei Shaohuai was still turning this over in his mind when he heard Prefectural Governor Zhang call out, “Is Pei Shaohuai of Wanping County present?”

Pei Shaohuai started at the sudden sound of his own name. He had no time to deliberate further — he stepped forward at once, bowed with both hands clasped, and replied in a clear, carrying voice, “This student is present.”

A young gentleman of eleven or twelve, not yet tall, but upright in posture — his appearance drew the gazes of the assembled scholars, with a trace of puzzlement on their faces. Why had Prefectural Governor Zhang singled out this young lad?

Prefectural Governor Zhang said directly, “You — answer.”

“Yes.” Though he did not know why Prefectural Governor Zhang remembered him, or why he had been singled out in particular, he knew that this was an opportunity not to be missed.

Pei Shaohuai stepped forward several paces to stand at the center of the open space, raised his head toward the two great officials, and spoke: “This student’s view is that this matter has long been regarded by emperors’ governing principles and the sage ministers’ deliberations alike as their most pressing concern — for when troops and provisions are adequate, ritual, music, criminal justice, and governance may all be set in order of their own accord. There is therefore nothing to dispute on this point. However, troops and provisions derive from agricultural cultivation, and if agriculture fails to produce, then troops and provisions will be insufficient — governing the troops first requires governing the people, and the two cannot be separated. Furthermore, Chengdu Prefecture is the great granary of the realm, while the northwest is the vital ground of the frontier troops; the distance between the two is great, and the losses incurred in transporting provisions must not be overlooked…”