The Southern Hermit’s selection and commentary had made Pei Shaohuai something of a name within Donglin Academy. The Southern Hermit had discerning taste and had always chosen only essays of genuine quality to comment on — he would rather abstain than offer hollow praise.

However, the Southern Hermit’s remark that “this person’s essays bear a distinct resemblance to Northern Traveler’s” brought Pei Shaohuai no small share of cutting remarks —

“No wonder he spent his days at the Notable Essays Board copying sentences. It turns out he has a talent for imitating and borrowing from others, taking other people’s strengths and calling them his own.”

“He probably imitated Northern Traveler in order to produce an essay like that. It is a fine essay, yet reading it, something feels missing — one cannot quite say what.”

“Perhaps it lacks integrity?”

The room filled with laughter.

These cutting remarks were soon silenced — Pei Shaohuai stopped their mouths and rendered them speechless by placing fifth in the joint examination between Donglin Academy and Suzhou Prefecture Academy held at month’s end, ranking one place above Cui Zhengyi. The four candidates ranked above Pei Shaohuai were all middle-aged examination candidates who had passed the examinations years ago; it was entirely natural that they should outrank him.

The examination papers were sealed before grading, marked jointly by instructors from both schools, so there was no possibility of bias.

In the examination, the examiner posed the question: “How should those above and below regard one another with respect?”

Pei Shaohuai wrote: “That those below respect those above is to respect their virtue and their station; that those above esteem those below is to esteem their talent and their ability.”

Subordinates respect their superiors for their virtue; superiors value their subordinates for their ability. Taking this as his foundation, Pei Shaohuai expanded his argument.

As for the word “station” — in this world, wherever there is above and below, there is always distinction of high and low. This was simply unavoidable.

When Pei Shaohuai’s examination paper was posted, it drew a crowd of Donglin students to gather and read. The style on the page was classical yet free of tediousness, clear and bright without being overwrought, restrained without losing its edge.

It was the same quality as the essay in the Records of Chongwen. This was simply how his learning and his literary voice had always been — he was not imitating anyone.

As for placing fifth in the joint examination, Pei Shaohuai did not think much of it. What he valued more was the Southern Hermit’s commentary. The Southern Hermit’s appreciation of Pei Shaohuai’s essay was evident in every line; but where the essay fell short, the Southern Hermit stated it plainly without glossing it over.

The Southern Hermit pointed out that Pei Shaohuai had discussed the sages’ teachings and the question of human good and evil in isolation from the conditions of the world — which might not persuade the reader. Should he wish to refine and deepen the argument, he might begin from the question of whether the world is flourishing or in decay, and build his argument from there.

Reading this, Pei Shaohuai found it deeply useful.

He had already sensed that something was missing from this essay, but had not been able to identify it for a long time. Now he understood exactly where it fell short.

Pei Shaohuai then sought out the earlier issues of the Records of Chongwen and read through the Southern Hermit’s commentaries on Northern Traveler’s essays. The more he read, the more he felt that the Southern Hermit was a scholar of profound learning and wide-ranging knowledge — and every time the Southern Hermit identified a weakness in Northern Traveler’s essays, he was incisive and held nothing back. When offering suggestions for revision, every word was grounded and well-reasoned, and Pei Shaohuai found himself persuaded. For instance, in commenting on Pei Shaohuai’s argument that “seized lands ought to be returned to the common people,” the Southern Hermit wrote: “If there is only farmland but no proper system of taxation, the law-abiding commoner is no better than a tenant farmer — the people’s livelihood would still be hard…” This was precisely what Pei Shaohuai had not considered thoroughly enough: cultivation and taxation are inseparably linked.

It became clear that the Southern Hermit was deeply informed about current affairs at court — and might even have personally handled matters of governance. Otherwise, he could not have written with such substantive detail.

Pei Shaohuai began to speculate: could the Southern Hermit be some retired senior academician or former Hanlin scholar? If he could seek guidance from the Southern Hermit from time to time, his essays would surely improve markedly.

Pei Shaohuai sought out Tian Yonglu and asked: “Does Senior Brother Tian happen to know the identity of this Southern Hermit? Could he introduce him to me?”

“I am afraid that is something I cannot help Junior Brother with.” Tian Yonglu shook his head with regret. “The Southern Hermit, like Northern Traveler, submits anonymously. No one in the Chongwen Literary Society knows who either of them is. When they submit each month, the timing varies at their whim — sometimes early, sometimes late.”

Tian Yonglu gazed up at the roof tiles and murmured: “I want to know who these two people are even more than Junior Brother Pei does — especially Northern Traveler.”

This left Pei Shaohuai feeling a little guilty.

Since there was no way to discover who the Southern Hermit was, Pei Shaohuai had no choice but to continue submitting under the name Northern Traveler and seek the Southern Hermit’s guidance through the commentary.

By the time the Heat Recedes season arrived, even Taicang Prefecture’s position by the sea and the great river could not entirely hold back the summer heat. As Pei Shaohuai read by candlelight at night, the flame swayed inside his window while stars shimmered across the sky beyond, and fireflies in the courtyard drifted and settled, each a lone point of light flickering on and off.

Pei Shaohuai opened the letters that had arrived from the capital — one from his fourth brother-in-law Chen Xingchen, one from his schoolmate Jiang Ziyun.

Before he even broke the seals, Pei Shaohuai could already guess the general content — had there been good news to report from the metropolitan or palace examinations, would it really have waited until now to arrive?

The first half of Chen Xingchen’s letter was written in his fourth sister’s hand — a neat and delicate small script. She wrote that everything at the Earl’s residence was well, and that she herself was living happily at the Jinchang Marquis’s household. The Chen family had not obstructed her in pursuing her study of medicine and pharmacology; her sisters-in-law even privately came to her with small questions from time to time. She told their father, mother, and younger brother not to worry about home, not to worry about her, and to take good care of themselves in Taicang.

She also wrote that the method of distilling medicine through spirits that her younger brother had described last time — she had tried it and had not succeeded in extracting the essential medicinal essence. But by chance, when she added flower petals, she was able to extract the fragrance within them, something not unlike rosewater.

Ying Jie’er speculated that rosewater must be produced by this very principle, and she would continue her experiments.

The second half of the letter was written by Chen Xingchen himself. He seemed to be taking it in stride — he said that his eldest brother Chen Xingqing had placed in the third tier, which was something to account for, and that he himself could afford to wait another three years. He had already made his plans for the next three years: half his time devoted to the study of mathematics, and the other half to serious work on his essays. He also teased Pei Shaohuai that should he come across any good books or work out any new mathematical methods, he must not forget his brother-in-law far away in the capital — he must be sure to send a copy.

Seeing that his sister and brother-in-law had the opportunity to pursue the subjects they truly loved, Pei Shaohuai was genuinely glad for them.

Compared to that, not passing the metropolitan examination seemed hardly worth mentioning.

Jiang Ziyun’s letter said that he had recovered from his disappointment and planned to enroll at the Imperial Academy for further study, then try the examination again in three years. After all, the Imperial Academy was the finest school within his reach.

A few days later, the postal station delivered another letter — from Shanhai Pass.

All three family members were home together.

Lin Shi did a quick mental calculation of the months and said: “It must be that Lan has given birth.”

Hearing his wife say this, Pei Bingyuan’s whole body went rigid. He tensed, his hands trembling slightly as he went to open the letter. He paused with the envelope extracted, deliberated for a few moments, and then handed it to Pei Shaohuai: “Shaohuai, you read it.”

Pei Shaohuai opened the letter and immediately recognized Situ Yang’s handwriting — loose and bold.

The letter opened not with pleasantries but went straight to the point. Pei Shaohuai read aloud: “I ask that my father-in-law please give my third child a name…”

Hearing that it was a matter of naming, both Pei Bingyuan and Lin Shi let out a breath of relief.

But almost immediately they sensed something was off. Third child? And he was asking his father-in-law to name the child…

A shadow of worry crossed Lin Shi’s face. She murmured softly: “Lan has had a hard time of it.” Pei Bingyuan also grew troubled.

Only if the child was ranked with the two elder sisters before it could it be the “third” — meaning this baby was also a daughter. Had it been a son, who would have left the naming to Pei Bingyuan? The eldest grandson should rightfully be named by General Situ, his paternal grandfather.

Pei Shaohuai saw the worried look on his parents’ faces and knew what they were anxious about. He smiled and said: “Father and Mother need not be in such haste — Second Brother-in-law has not finished yet.”

“Then keep reading,” Lin Shi urged.

“…If Lan has given me a fine, fat boy — seven and a half catties, exactly the same as me at birth,” Pei Shaohuai read on.

Pei Bingyuan and Lin Shi looked at each other in delighted surprise.

“That Situ Er — how could he write ‘third child’ when he has a son? It is not proper. This is the eldest grandson of their General’s household,” Pei Bingyuan said, pleased yet exasperated.

Lin Shi said: “Son-in-law is not that stiff and formal a person. I expect he feels that since they are all his own children, there is no distinction to be made — he loves them all equally — so he simply counted them in order. It is not a matter of any real importance.”

“Since a grandson has been added, why is he still writing to ask me to give the name?” Pei Bingyuan wondered.

This put him in a difficult position. The Situ General’s household and the Earl’s household were relatives by marriage — one could hardly start a quarrel over the business of naming.

“Father and Mother, please let the child finish reading the letter first, and then discuss it,” said Pei Shaohuai.

“Oh, yes, yes…”

Pei Shaohuai continued reading: “My father-in-law need not worry. I have already spoken with my old man. Since he gave neither the eldest nor the second child a name, he has no right to name the third — and besides, he does not have the learning for it. Father-in-law may freely give the grandson a name of commanding spirit.”

Pei Bingyuan listened and began to deliberate.

The characters with the “rain” radical were not many, and there was not a great deal to choose from. After a moment’s thought, he said: “The poet immortal once wrote: ‘The three armies receive the command, a thousand li are stilled as by thunder.’ It fits well with their military household’s standing. Why not take the name ‘Qianting’ — Thousand Thunders?”

Pei Shaohuai concurred: “Father has chosen well — it is truly commanding in spirit. Second Brother-in-law will certainly be pleased.”

Lin Shi went herself to fetch the brush, ink, and paper, and stood beside Pei Bingyuan, grinding the ink for him.

Pei Bingyuan wrote two letters — one addressed to Situ Yang, and another addressed to General Situ.

The Situ General’s household was not the only military family celebrating a new arrival at this time. The household of Anping Commandery Prince had also welcomed a child — the Anping heir-apparent had at last received a firstborn son, born to the daughter of one of Anping Prince’s deputy generals. Anping Prince made quite a celebration of the hundredth-day banquet for the grandson.

For reasons difficult to fathom, an invitation to this hundredth-day banquet was sent even to Jingchuan Earl’s residence. The manservant delivering the card said: “The Prince says that since the world of Anping Prince’s heir-apparent came from a collateral branch of the Earl’s household, Anping Commandery Prince’s household and the Earl’s household are relatives by marriage, and the hundredth-day banquet should properly include an invitation to the Earl to come and gather.”

The old lord of the Pei household recalled something that had happened years ago and was seized with a fury that had no place to go. He was on the verge of sending the manservant away.

Anping Prince’s household still had the face to invite the Earl’s household to come and celebrate the hundredth-day banquet of his grandson? If not for the Anping heir-apparent, would his third granddaughter have been forced into the palace?

It happened that Shao Jin was also in the main hall. Seeing his grandfather’s anger rising, he quickly stepped forward and leaned close to his grandfather’s ear, murmuring: “Grandfather, the Anping heir-apparent is the Anping heir-apparent; the one sending the invitation is Anping Prince. This does not look like a provocation to me — it looks more like an attempt to ease relations.”

After all, the Anping heir-apparent having a son was not good news for the Shangshu household.

Pei Shaojin added: “Why not let your grandson go in your stead, to see what he has up his sleeve?”