The twelfth month was still cold, but the new year had people’s spirits high.
On the eighth day of the twelfth month, a letter arrived at the relay station. Pei Bingyuan and his wife and son read it together and learned that Bamboo had received special permission to leave the palace. All three were overjoyed.
After Pei Shaohuai had gone back to his room, the couple discussed Bamboo’s marriage.
“What thoughts does my wife, with your careful eye, have about this?”
“Bamboo is less than a year older than Ying’er. Starting to make plans for her marriage now is not too late. We should find her a simple and untroubling household… The Earl’s household has you holding it together, and with Huai’er and Jin’er both talented and promising, Bamboo’s days ahead will be good ones.” said Lin Shi.
She was a woman of modest circumstances, and naturally thought along modest and practical lines.
“Bamboo entered the palace with a fine reputation, and she has the ability to manage an entire household with ease. She now has the Empress’s gift of a hairpiece and irrigated fields to make her marriage an occasion of honor. She is not old, and her appearance and character are outstanding… With these qualities, there will likely be many families in the capital who will wish to seek her hand.” Having analyzed the situation, Lin Shi sighed with a touch of wistfulness and said, “The Earl’s household is not the same as it was five years ago. Bamboo made that desperate gamble back then, and now it is right that she should have her turn to choose well.”
Pei Bingyuan listened and felt there was some truth in this — yet on reflection, Bamboo had understood at the age of five years prior how to enter the palace to turn adversity to advantage. Of the four daughters, she was the one with the strongest mind of her own. And so he said, “You make a fair point, but given Bamboo’s temperament, the households that have set their eye on her abilities and come calculating their own advantage — she may not look kindly on any of them. If we find her a simple and prosperous household, we may fear it does not do her justice… Let us wait a few more months, and when someone comes to seek her hand, watch for her reaction and then decide.”
“You see things more clearly than I do.” said Lin Shi.
Surely once spring arrived, Bamboo, having made up her mind, would write to Taicang in good time.
At Donglin Academy, Tian Yonglu had been feeling somewhat troubled of late. He confided in Pei Shaohuai, “The Northern Sojourner has not sent in a manuscript for two months now. When I read other essays, I find them rather dull. I find myself hoping he will send one soon, and yet I also worry whether something has happened to him.”
He added, “There are quite a few students in Suzhou who enjoy the Northern Sojourner’s essays, and they often come to Chongwen Hall to ask about him.”
Pei Shaohuai was moved upon hearing this.
Among scholars, there was mutual rivalry and mutual contempt, but also mutual understanding and mutual appreciation.
Whether rivalry or appreciation, in the land of Jiangnan — abundant in men of letters and blessed with outstanding talent — both were expressed in ways that were all the more pronounced and vivid.
During this time, Pei Shaohuai had never stopped writing essays. He had produced some good work as well, no lower in quality than his previous writings. Each time he finished a piece, he would sign it “Northern Sojourner,” seal it with his stamp, and set it aside for several days. When he went back to read it again, he felt there was still no breakthrough — and so he did not submit it.
If nothing had changed at all, the Hermit of the South’s commentary would have lost its meaning.
So Pei Shaohuai believed.
“Elder Brother Tian need not worry too much — perhaps he simply finds himself temporarily lacking inspiration.” Pei Shaohuai said in reassurance. “I imagine he is heeding the Hermit of the South’s words, working steadily toward the goal and letting it come in its own time.”
“You are right.” Tian Yonglu nodded and said, “His essays are not just words on a page — they are the traces of a mind.” Scholars had moments of flowing inspiration, and naturally also moments of creative drought. A drought was, in fact, the more common state.
With that thought, Tian Yonglu’s expression eased somewhat.
In the days of spring, the academy let out for a rest day. Pei Shaohuai chose to stroll home at a leisurely pace, not wanting to waste the spring scenery along the way.
Rain drummed against the pear blossoms, and cottage gates were closed; the wind skimmed the tips of the grass, nearly sweeping one’s eyes away. In Jiangnan, spring came earlier than in the northern borderlands, and came more fully and richly.
Pei Shaohuai recalled that back in the capital, Master Duan would take him and Shaojin and Yancheng out for a spring outing every year, often using flowers as the theme for a verse-composing game, each taking a turn to improvise a poem and then sip a cup of mild wine as forfeit. Those days had been quite carefree.
Now that he had come south on his own, and seen the springtime scenery of the south, he could not help but be reminded of that line: “Among the flowers last year we parted, today the flowers bloom again, another year.”
When he returned home, Lin Shi handed him an invitation card. She said, “The young page who delivered it said it was for the young master of the Prefect’s household. He introduced himself as being from the Zou family of the southern part of Suzhou city… and said that once you read the invitation, you would understand.”
Lin Shi also asked, “Is it a fellow student at the academy with the surname Zou?”
Pei Shaohuai shook his head. He had no close acquaintances at the academy with the surname Zou, and so his curiosity was piqued. He immediately opened the card and read it. Before he had even read the contents of the invitation, his gaze fell entirely on the three characters at the end: “Hermit of the South.”
The Hermit of the South was inviting him to come to his residence for a meeting tomorrow.
Pei Shaohuai felt his chest rise and fall with quickened breath, his face flushing as if he had drunk strong spirits, joy written openly on his face.
So it was true — the Hermit of the South was in Suzhou city, and had not only seen through the fact that he was a young man, but had even guessed his identity from his essays, and was now proactively inviting him to come for a visit.
Although Pei Shaohuai did not yet know what household the Zou residence was, nor who the Hermit of the South might be, from this invitation card alone he could discern the kind and guiding goodwill of a senior toward a junior.
Because this card had arrived at precisely the right moment.
“Mother, it is the Hermit of the South.” Pei Shaohuai said, his excitement evident.
Lin Shi did not fully understand, but she was glad along with him. She said, “Huai’er is so delighted — this Hermit of the South must be a person of great importance. Your mother will go prepare a gift for you to bring when you visit.”
Before long, Pei Bingyuan returned from the yamen. Pei Shaohuai showed his father the invitation and inquired what sort of household the Zou family of the southern part of Suzhou city might be. He thought to himself that a household capable of producing a figure such as the Hermit of the South could not be an ordinary one.
After Pei Bingyuan had read the invitation, he was first surprised, then nodded slowly in understanding, smiling as he said, “When the identity was unknown, I could not see it; but the moment I saw the character ‘Zou,’ everything became immediately clear. I should have thought of the Zou family of the southern city long ago — and indeed, only someone from that household could offer such an elevated perspective in commenting on other people’s policy essays.”
“Father need not keep me in suspense any longer.” said Pei Shaohuai.
Pei Bingyuan spoke with gravity, “If it is the Zou family, then it can only be Grand Secretary Zou Zhichuan. During his time in office he promoted and mentored many students, the majority of whom have since become men of ability. He is held in great esteem.” He added, “That you have been able to receive his guidance and counsel on this occasion is a fortune bestowed upon you.”
He then proceeded to recount to his son, slowly and in detail, all that this Grand Secretary Zou had accomplished during his years at court.
Within Da Qing’s court, the Inner Cabinet was divided into four halls and two pavilions. The four halls were the Hall of Central Supremacy, the Hall of Careful Conduct, the Hall of Literary Glory, and the Hall of Military Valor; the two pavilions were the Pavilion of Literary Depths and the Eastern Pavilion. The Grand Secretaries of these four halls and two pavilions collectively constituted the Inner Cabinet.
Zou Zhichuan placed first in the imperial examinations at the age of nineteen and entered the Hanlin Academy as a Compiler. Over the course of a decade or more, he held a succession of posts, eventually entering the Ministry of Revenue, where he was tasked with revising the laws governing household registers, the Yellow Register system, land surveying methods, and tax computation standards. Though the work sounded straightforward, every aspect was full of complexity. Zou Zhichuan was unwilling to fabricate figures out of thin air, so he petitioned the late emperor for permission to travel and conduct on-the-ground inspections across the realm before putting anything to paper.
Often, a few brief lines of regulation would require months of field research before Zou Zhichuan could even produce a rough draft — which then underwent repeated revision and refinement so that no loopholes remained.
To do something with one’s whole heart is to make it excellent. When the work was complete, Zou Zhichuan was greatly rewarded. In his forties, he was appointed Minister of Revenue; in his fifties, he entered the Pavilion of Literary Depths, submitting sound proposals and strategies to assist the Son of Heaven in governing the realm.
Zou Zhichuan’s scholarship was profound, and his years of traveling had accumulated for him a wealth of knowledge and experience. During the seven or eight years after the current Emperor first ascended the throne, he repeatedly entrusted Zou Zhichuan with the duty of selecting talent for the court — and it was during this period that many men of insight were given important responsibilities and developed into pillars of the realm.
Yet just a few years ago, as soon as Zou Zhichuan reached the age of retirement, he submitted his resignation and returned to his hometown in glory. The entire court lamented and urged him to stay. Had he remained only a few more years, he would have been appointed Chief Grand Secretary.
The Emperor was in the prime of his years and tried repeatedly to retain him. Zou Zhichuan said, “Your servant is old and my thinking inevitably grows muddled. I humbly beg Your Majesty to grant this.”
The Emperor, knowing that Zou Zhichuan’s only son had already entered the Hanlin Academy and wishing to promote him, granted him the position of Left Vice Minister of Revenue. Yet Zou Zhichuan declined on his son’s behalf, saying, “In reply to Your Majesty — my son reads in order to understand the way of things. Though he has the talent for study, he does not have the ability for official service. I fear the position of Vice Minister would be beyond his capacities, and I beg Your Majesty to reconsider. Your servant earnestly implores Your Majesty to withdraw this appointment and leave my son in the Hanlin Academy to compile documents and revise historical records.” He also said that his son Zou Xian had loved studying history books since childhood, and that remaining in the Hanlin Academy was the only way to give full expression to his talents.
After hearing all of this, Pei Shaohuai understood completely. He had learned a little of this Grand Secretary Zou’s story a few years before — and had never imagined he would one day encounter him in Suzhou city, brought together by a single volume of the Chongwen Literary Compendium.
He felt a deep sense of admiration.
His anticipation for tomorrow’s meeting grew several degrees stronger. One might say that Grand Secretary Zou was a man of practical action. From topping the imperial examinations in his youth, to a diligent and steady career in government, he had walked the entire path of the imperial examinations from beginning to end, and the entire path of official promotion from beginning to end — and had reached the pinnacle of both roads. And so, for students still climbing along the way, he possessed absolute authority to speak.
Every obstacle Pei Shaohuai faced in his climb upward was perhaps one that Grand Secretary Zou had once encountered and then crossed.
A man who has come down from the mountain has not only seen the view from the summit — he knows, too, every trap and rough stretch along the entire route.
The next day, Pei Shaohuai changed into his everyday attire, prepared a modest gift, and brought along several of his recent essays before making his way to the Zou residence in the southern part of Suzhou city.
Upon arriving, Pei Shaohuai discovered that the residence bore the same quality as Grand Secretary Zou’s character — understated and unassuming.
White walls and dark roof tiles; beyond the vermilion front gate, there was almost no ornamentation of any kind, and the house blended seamlessly with the ordinary residences around it. Along the street in front of the gate, a few vendors had set up their stalls and hawked their wares — and as long as they did not go too far, the gatekeeper’s boy made no move to drive them away.
Pei Shaohuai stepped forward, stated his purpose to the gatekeeper, and the gatekeeper called for the steward.
“Young Master Pei, this way please. The master gave instructions early this morning.” The steward personally led the way.
Inside the residence there were almost no precious ornaments whatsoever, but the garden and grounds were of the first rank. The moment he walked in, Pei Shaohuai felt his own temperament slow and settle.
The steward led Pei Shaohuai through three courtyards before arriving at a winding gallery bridge that curved and meandered out over a small pond to a stone pavilion.
“Young Master Pei, please proceed. The master and mistress are in the stone pavilion.”
Pei Shaohuai bowed with clasped hands.
The closer he drew, the more a trace of nervousness crept in. He steadied his composure, stepped onto the gallery bridge, and walked toward the stone pavilion.
A gust of east wind blew past. The green willow branches swayed and lifted, and the figures inside the stone pavilion came into view. Pei Shaohuai paused his steps, fixed his gaze, and saw: within the pavilion sat an elderly couple, their hair fully white, dressed in simple and ordinary robes, their manner warm and approachable.
These must be Grand Secretary Zou and his wife.
The stone table had a sheet of xuan paper spread across it. The old mistress of the Zou household held a stiff-bristled fine brush, focused intently on her painting.
Grand Secretary Zou held a book in his hand. After reading a few lines, he leaned over to check on how his wife’s painting was coming along, and muttered, “If you ask me, you ought to paint with bolder strokes — working this carefully, when will you ever finish?”
“Read your book.”
When the old mistress of the Zou household lifted her hand to dip the brush in vermilion ink, she happened to catch sight of Pei Shaohuai standing on the gallery bridge. There he stood — his hem and the willow fronds swaying together in the breeze — a refined and graceful young man walking through the spring wind.
“Hey, hey.” The old mistress of the Zou household tugged at Grand Secretary Zou.
“I’m reading my book——”
“Your little Northern Sojourner has arrived.” The old mistress reminded him.
Grand Secretary Zou immediately sat up straight, his expression turning serious, and also looked over. The two of them gazed upon this young man so full of the vitality of youth and brimming with talent, and could not hide the admiration in their eyes.