Chen Dasheng had just finished bathing and returned to his room when he saw two large trays placed on the table, along with a large bundle he recognized immediately.
The bundle was surely something his wife had sent over — but these dazzlingly bejeweled items on the trays clearly weren’t from home.
These were all accessories, a whole set of them. Things like gold-inlaid gemstone jade-coral wide belts, qilin-patterned colored-jade wide belts, gold-inlaid pearl-and-tortoiseshell patchwork belts, six-colored embroidered silk sachets, six-colored brocade sachets, coral-and-gem-inlaid fire strikers, gold-inlaid sash cords, jade belt hooks and pendants of every color…
Chen Dasheng, drying his neck with a cloth, stepped up onto the threshold and called out toward the yard, “Wan Chunyang!”
At his call, out shuffled a thin, bamboo-pole-thin eunuch in his thirties from a corner of the courtyard, grinning sheepishly.
This was the man his teacher had arranged for him — whenever he was in the palace, this eunuch was assigned to attend to him.
Wan Chunyang scurried over eagerly and said with a sly smile, “Young master, you’ve heard His Majesty’s verbal decree, haven’t you?”
Chen Dasheng glanced at him, turned into the room, and didn’t so much as look again at the two trays on the table. Instead, his face lit up with warmth as he picked up the bundle sent from home and opened it, taking out his new clothes piece by piece, examining them fondly, turning them over.
The stitching clearly wasn’t his wife’s own handiwork, but he was satisfied all the same — his wife had already been dragged into so much trouble because of him that she barely got a good night’s sleep. Compare her life to that of the ladies and mistresses here in the capital…
This was a full four sets of clothing, inside and out, and the household had even sent ten pairs of thin socks, since his feet sweated a lot… how thoughtful of them.
Chen Dasheng cherished everything sent from home. For official duty and attending the Emperor, he wore what the Bureau of Apparel had made, but when with his teacher, the two of them both wore clothes from home — they generally avoided going anywhere too fine anyway.
Wan Chunyang gestured exaggeratedly at the trays on the table, grinning at Chen Dasheng again.
Chen Dasheng didn’t want to deal with him, and waved his hand irritably for him to take it all away.
What was on the table? These days, going about the front and back palace, he often ran into sons of the imperial clan, as well as young men from the consort families — the Xiao family, the Cao family, the Feng family, the Liu family, the Yue family — and even the imperial princes’ own study companions. What these people wore on their bodies, on their feet, held in their hands, looked at with their eyes — it was all this sort of thing.
In certain circles, this was simply commonplace, nothing rare at all.
Last month, Zheng Aman had spun around in front of him, challenging him to guess how many peony flowers were embroidered on a pouch barely the size of a palm, and with how many different stitching techniques. Chen Dasheng had brushed him off with a few vague remarks, and Zheng Aman, delighted, announced the answer himself and left — hah, that little pouch had sixty-six peonies embroidered with thirty-three different stitches, and five embroiderers had spent a whole month doing nothing but making this young master a pouch that couldn’t even hold five hundred coins?
But it wasn’t long before pouches of every fine, delicate design started appearing on the clan’s young men both inside and outside the palace, and soon every young gentleman across Yandu, indeed the whole realm, felt they needed an exquisite pouch to keep up appearances.
Zheng Aman alone was furious about this — these past few days he’d stopped carrying a pouch altogether. Instead he wore small sachets embroidered in gold and silver thread, changing his incense pellets daily, never sharing his incense formula with anyone, so this time no one could copy him. He was quite pleased with himself, letting only those he deemed worthy sniff and guess each day.
All in all, those people lived more exhausting lives than soldiers at war — as if constantly fighting, fighting not themselves exactly, yet something like a battle over face and appearances… quite foolish, really.
Chen Dasheng was an easily satisfied person. Now he had people to look after his meals, could eat as much as he liked, even order specific dishes, meat with every meal, brand new clothes inside and out — he dared ask for nothing more, as if asking for even a little more would bring on all manner of retribution his grandmother used to warn of, being snatched away by a dragon descending from the sky, being struck to pieces by lightning of every variety…
These days, aside from his teacher, the person he admired most was his own wife — everything had gone exactly as she predicted. Though he often received gifts from His Majesty, the Empress Dowager, and the various palace consorts, and the Bureau of Apparel arranged whatever he needed to wear, he’d remained entirely untouched by this whole competition among the young noblemen — living without a shred of that exhaustion, with no one ever daring to find fault with him in the slightest.
He was simply a man who wore plain cloth!
His teacher, influenced by him, had likewise become a man who wore plain cloth. The seven Old Blades of the Long Blade Office went about clean and simple, honest and upright, conducting themselves properly, diligent in their duties. They curried favor with no one, and no one looked down on them either — they simply did things according to their own conscience, earned their keep through genuine skill. Over time, even the civil officials came to genuinely like them, and not one person ever dared belittle them.
His teacher put it well: this way suited them just fine. A person without virtue, no matter how bejeweled he hung himself with, would still be looked down upon by anyone who was inclined to look down on people.
After having a young eunuch take Chen Dasheng’s changed-out old clothes to be washed, Wan Chunyang came back in, still grinning, to persuade him. “Oh, young master~ do take a look! At least pick one you fancy and wear it. Haven’t you heard, you’re off to Huguo Temple tomorrow! And who’s going to be there? Plenty of snobs who judge people by appearances… The Ladies wouldn’t want you shown up, would they? These are just little trinkets, they say it’s the newest fashion in Yandu right now, just wear them for fun. If you don’t like them, you can gift them to others — they’d be happy for you to have them and use them as you please.”
He came over, knelt halfway down, removed Chen Dasheng’s soft shoes, and picked up a cloth to wipe his feet… Chen Dasheng let himself be attended to with a wooden expression. Going from never having experienced this to having to get used to it took time — after three months of struggling with it, knowing he truly couldn’t resist anymore, Chen Dasheng had begun quietly enduring it.
He sometimes felt a bit wronged about it — even his own wife had never examined his feet this closely.
Seeing that Wan Chunyang wasn’t taking the items away, Chen Dasheng understood his meaning — his teacher must be pushing him again to get used to such things.
He asked, somewhat helplessly, “Who gave all this?”
If it had been the Empress Dowager, the Grand Consort, or any of the senior palace ladies, it wouldn’t have been left so casually — there’d need to be a formal thank-you.
Things left so casually were always from the lesser palace consorts — in his teacher’s words, they truly wanted for nothing, and giving gifts was just a way of buying goodwill, a show put on for those above them.
But since they’d given it, he had to at least remember their names — he needn’t do anything special to look after them, since he couldn’t really look after them anyway, but he ought to at least know who they were.
Things really were different now — he was the grandson Empress Dowager Zheng constantly mentioned, and he was also She Banban’s… ah, son? Student? Sometimes even Chen Dasheng himself wasn’t sure what exactly he was.
Taking the mouth-rinsing water Wan Chunyang brought over, Chen Dasheng rinsed his mouth while listening to the list of names, nodding along since he couldn’t speak to show he understood.
While attending to him, Wan Chunyang thought to himself with amusement — his little young master had no idea just how famous he’d become in Yandu. His Majesty had plenty of people he was fond of — men like Meng Dingchen, Old Marquis Chang, Grand Tutor Li — but none of them, not one, was as famous as Registrar Chen.
Earlier this year, Consort Shun’s elder brother had been granted a title and sent an invitation for him to come drink at his residence. This young master rarely accepted such invitations — he wasn’t one to go visiting just anyone’s household. Normally he spent his off-duty hours reading with the old ancestor, growing vegetables with the old ancestor, restoring old books with the old ancestor… living day to day in quiet contentment, always smiling.
Even the old Empress Dowager herself said, watching this child, that he carried himself with such ease, a simple and clear-hearted good child.
Later it was His Majesty himself who said, well, they’re not outsiders, just go and have some fun — sitting cooped up at home all day would make anyone stir-crazy.
And so, he went.
Well then! He went, but he couldn’t show up empty-handed and rude, so he brought along a gift — five hundred coins wrapped in red paper!
And that alone made him instantly famous!
After all, he was the adopted son She Banban doted on in his old age, a subject His Majesty kept close to heart — five hundred coins was five hundred coins, but showing up at all counted for more than anything else.
But just a few days later, when the Cao family held a banquet and His Majesty told him to go again, this young master flatly refused, saying plainly that he couldn’t afford to keep up with gift-giving — his official salary all went straight home, and his wife had only given him five hundred coins in pocket money that month, so from now on he could only attend one household’s function per month.
From that point on, his reputation thoroughly eclipsed even that of Old Marquis Chang, who’d once been beaten by his wife on the rooftop.
He was born so fine-looking that there wasn’t a single palace lady who didn’t adore him, treating him like their own child. When the old Empress Dowager heard this story, she grew upset and called him over to ask — was his wife mistreating him?
This young master, of all things, went on and on about how his wife was the best in all of Daliang, and even worked out an entire account for the old Empress Dowager — how much he earned, how much the household had, how many children they planned to have in the future, how much it cost to raise each one… After explaining all this earnestly, he said his wife had a hard time of it, that raising children was expensive, and they needed to plan ahead early — he intended to have at least eight children.
He was so earnest about it that he had the old Empress Dowager and all the consorts laughing themselves silly — but once they’d finished laughing, they adored him even more, all declaring he was the finest husband in all of Daliang, the kind who truly cherished his wife, which left His Majesty more than a little jealous. For a good while after that, His Majesty showered the back palace with gifts nonstop, trying to reclaim the “number one” reputation for himself.
No one could quite figure out why the palace ladies praised him so, but ever since, Registrar Chen had thoroughly opened the floodgates of receiving gifts within the palace — whenever any lady got her hands on something nice, she’d pass it along to him, treating him just like her own child.
No helping it — he was poor, after all, with eight children to raise.
Early the next morning, Chen Dasheng rose early and made his own bed as usual; following habit, he also swept the courtyard, then, taking his fellow guards along, practiced the basic blade forms dozens of times through with his short saber at his waist.
By the time they’d all worked up a good sweat, they each went back to wash up, then dressed neatly in the indigo-blue summer robes sent from home.
Just before heading out, after much cajoling from Wan Chunyang, the young master finally reached into one of the trays and grabbed a gold-inlaid gemstone jade-coral wide belt, tucking it casually into his sleeve, counting it as having “used” one.
With no other choice, Wan Chunyang, once he’d left, took the rest along with his people to report the accounts to the old ancestor.
Chen Dasheng didn’t understand the fine points of palace etiquette, but he had a good solution — whatever he didn’t understand, he’d simply hand off to someone who did, and turn everything entirely over to his teacher.
He received plenty of gifts, but never dared bring them home — having been thoroughly frightened by that one incident over the sheep, he could only leave things in his teacher’s safekeeping.
She Banban had also dressed in plain mourning attire that day — regardless of underlying allegiances, Master Xuan Shan’s virtue truly merited the name of an eminent monk, and out of respect, he too would wear plain mourning garb for seven days.
She Banban had risen late, and Wan Chunyang had arrived before he’d even had his morning meal — steamed buns made of flour, a filial gift from his daughter-in-law, small enough to finish in one bite, yet he savored them with deliberate care, chewing slowly to fully appreciate the flavor, taking three to five bites to finish just one.
Pleased with his meal, he glanced up occasionally at Wan Chunyang, and then at the two large trays he’d brought in, and asked, “Whose household gave these?”
Wan Chunyang, not daring to grin now, bowed solemnly and replied, “Reporting to the old ancestor, those embroidered silk sachets were gifts from Concubine Ye — the items were sent in by water route from her family’s estate in Zhuoxingzhou last month, twelve crates in all offered to the palace. These sachets came along with the rest, all chosen from the finest to be sent to the young master.”
Someone nearby took a small tray over and arranged six of the sachets, presenting them for She Banban to examine.
Wan Chunyang continued reporting from below, “As for the new embroidered silk itself, that’s rather rare — even old established shops in Yandu sell a piece like this for as much as seventy strings of cash. As for the incense inside the sachets, this humble one had Court Physician Zhou from the Imperial Medical Institute inspect it personally — it’s ordinary incense made from little magnolia, moon peach, angelica, and other common materials…”
She Banban picked up his bowl, drank the soup carefully, rinsed his mouth, and only then pointed at the sachets one by one. “The Ye family — well, that’s about the extent of their taste, foolishly trying to stand out like this! Have you ever seen anyone in the palace casually using outside incense?”
Wan Chunyang nodded in agreement. “Indeed, these days even the palace ladies only use materials from the Bureau of Foodstuffs’ medicine office to make their incense.”
She Banban naturally doted on his own son, and with one glance he could tell the value of these things, so he gave a slight nod. “Put it on the young master’s account! Hmph… he’s stashed his private savings with me too now, what a business this is…”
The old ancestor’s tone carried a note of pride. Wan Chunyang chimed in eagerly, “That’s right, the young master has no father or mother of his own, only you to dote on him — the Old Madam at home is getting on in years, and the young mistress is far too busy — who else would he rely on if not you? The young master didn’t even glance at these, just had this humble one bring them straight to you.”
She Banban shook his head with a look of helpless indulgence. “Still so young, doesn’t understand these social niceties at all, still needs teaching…” He glanced once more at these trinkets and said, “Hmph, everyone thinks my Sheng’er doesn’t know quality goods.”
Wan Chunyang handed the items over to the eunuch keeping the accounts, following along step by step after She Banban. “If you hadn’t insisted, the young master wouldn’t even glance down at a mountain of gold and silver lying at his feet. But it was interesting — just as he was leaving, this humble one mentioned he was heading out, so the young master ought to wear at least one piece — and without even turning his head, he reached out and grabbed one. Well, out of that whole pile, only two pieces were worth anything, and he happened to grab the best one.”
She Banban, endlessly curious about everything concerning his student-son, stopped and turned back. “Oh? What did he grab?”
Wan Chunyang smiled. “A gold-inlaid gemstone jade-coral wide belt worth three hundred strings of cash, a gift from Consort Guo of Shulan Hall. The young master’s simply got a natural hand for fortune.”
She Banban laughed at this, and joked, “Natural hand for fortune, more like a natural hand for cutting people down — you should’ve seen him on the battlefield… Shulan Hall, you say?”
He stopped again, looking around, and asked, “What’s over at Shulan Hall?”
Someone nearby quickly came over, smiling, to add, “Nothing much of note — just some chives and orchids being well tended there, blooming rather nicely right now.”
She Banban nodded at this, then turned and ambled off toward His Majesty. Upon seeing him, he said, “Ah, I hear the chives and orchids over at Shulan Hall are blooming beautifully!”
His Majesty, also dressed in plain attire that day, had just finished his morning meal, and upon hearing this, sighed helplessly. “Even if you’re stashing away savings for your son, you don’t need to sell me out every single day — sell too often and I’ll lose my worth. Every few days is the better strategy, isn’t it? And there’s still the Old Madam waiting in line — go work her for a bit too? Truly, the Old Madam’s well-off, she’s not short on money at all! She’d be delighted to be ‘sold’ by you over and over.”
She Banban didn’t take the bait, instead changing the subject. “Have they left the palace yet?”
His Majesty, utterly exasperated, simply waved a hand vaguely at him.
Chen Dasheng, at that moment, had not yet left the palace. He’d just arrived at the small hillside where Consort Xiao resided at the summer palace, when he happened to run into the Second Prince, Yang Zhen.
As a prince, Chen Dasheng naturally stopped immediately and bowed in greeting. “Greetings, Second Highness.”
The Second Prince had an excellent reputation outside the palace — handsome in appearance, gentle and cultured, with an open, easygoing temperament besides. Add to that his genuine military accomplishments among all the princes during His Majesty’s reign, and the calls for him to be made Crown Prince ran quite high.
High or not, Chen Dasheng wasn’t particularly concerned about it — he and his teacher had long since risen above such things.
Seeing it was Chen Dasheng, Yang Zhen greeted him warmly, “Ah, Feilian, you’re up early too! Guess it’s our Six Little Immortals’ pull that’s got everyone coming out to meet him.”
Feilian was the courtesy name His Majesty had given Chen Dasheng — now that he had a courtesy name, it would be improper for others to address him by his given name.
Chen Dasheng replied politely, smiling, “No choice, if I don’t turn right around to greet him, he’ll never find his way back.”
They both laughed at this, long since used to each other’s company.
His Majesty was a rather rough-hewn, straightforward man, and thoroughly disliked the old dynasty’s constraints on family affection — under the old dynasty, aside from important ceremonies, the Emperor generally dined alone every year. But the current Emperor dreaded eating alone — aside from She Banban, whom he kept closest, he genuinely loved gathering with his sons and family members.
These days, even though they couldn’t all share one table, they’d each sit at their own small table lower down in rank, which was good enough. And so the Second Prince often joined in on Chen Dasheng’s meals with His Majesty.
Entering the small mountain palace on the hillside, the impatiently waiting Sixth Prince, Yang Qian, bounded out at once — this child had no guile at all, and rushed over calling out excitedly, “Second Brother, greetings! Second Brother, peace to you! Thank you, Second Brother, for coming to fetch him…” He rushed straight past his own elder brother without hesitation, right up to Chen Dasheng, with the expression of someone who’d waited several lifetimes to finally meet again. “Brother Feilian! Does the Heavenly Lord have any words for me today?”
Ever since Chen Dasheng had been granted his courtesy name, the Sixth Prince had considered him one of his own.
Closer to him than even his own father — because Feilian was the name of the Wind God, and they were both immortals, naturally of the same faction.
From then on, there arose an odd sight at the south gate of the Daliang palace — known as “Old Blade Chen staring blankly at lions, the Six Little Immortals preaching to thin air.”
Chen Dasheng liked to sit against the city wall, staring blankly into the distance. The Sixth Prince, unable to find a kindred spirit anywhere in the palace, would find everyone else avoiding him whenever he appeared — except for Chen Feilian, whom he’d grab and chatter away at for ages, spraying spittle with enthusiasm, telling long stories about immortals.
Chen Dasheng had seen little of the world and read little too, so he had a boundless curiosity for all kinds of knowledge — and so, however long the Sixth Prince talked, he’d listen just as long.
It was only that Chen Dasheng wasn’t one for talking, so the Sixth Prince felt like he was mumbling to thin air, and would go home and complain to his own mother, Consort Xiao, that it felt just like talking to no one at all — over time, this gave rise to the tale of “Old Blade Chen staring blankly at lions, Six Little Immortals preaching to thin air.”
Seeing the Sixth Prince, Chen Dasheng relaxed and smiled naturally, greeting him. “Greetings, Star Lord Lianzhen.”
If he didn’t address him this way, he’d have to sit through an entire elaborate origin story all over again — proof, in any case, that he was an immortal, not merely a child of this household.
The Sixth Prince, suddenly remembering something, said at once, “Oh, Brother Feilian, don’t call me that anymore! My immortal rank clashes with Second Brother’s name, so this lord has already transferred out of the Fifth Position of the Big Dipper…”
Chen Dasheng, with an entirely earnest expression, asked, “Oh? Then where does the Star Lord currently hold office?”
The Sixth Prince nodded, looking somewhat bashfully pleased. “Ahem! This lord currently holds the position of Eighth Star Lord of Outer Bracket Brightness in the Big Dipper.”
Chen Dasheng immediately played along. “In that case, greetings, Star Lord Outer Bracket.”
The Six Little Immortals was thoroughly satisfied, and returned the greeting at once. “Greetings, Brother Feilian. I wonder, where are you carrying out your travels today? Might you have an immortal token or heavenly decree — this lord happens to have no pressing matters today, and could join you in…”
But before he could finish, a beautiful woman on the veranda came stamping her feet, calling out urgently, “What time do you think it is? Are you two going to keep this act up forever? Get moving, get moving! The old monk’s already been sealed in the urn by now, and I doubt you’ll even make it in time…”
The Second Prince, holding back laughter, pulled the two of them along as they walked, thinking to himself that in this whole palace, these two were truly the only carefree ones — genuinely amusing, honestly.
Outside the summer palace, the departure of princes was no small matter — both princes had four-horse carriages each, while Chen Dasheng, at minimum, rode a two-horse carriage, a special honor granted just for this occasion.
His carriage dutifully followed behind the princes’ carriages, and behind Meng Dingchen’s carriage from the Jiu Si Tang as well. The two princes’ departure created quite a stir — to show the imperial family’s regard for Huguo Temple, the ceremonial escort this time was in full array: the Imperial Guard dispatched two companies of roughly three hundred men to escort them, with eight street-clearing carriages leading the way, followed by the accompanying drums and horns, yellow banners, astronomical-observation carriages closely behind, and further still, feathered canopies, ornate parasols, banners and flags, and ceremonial staff-bearers surrounding the carriages…
Chen Dasheng’s carriage wasn’t for his use alone — he shared it with his fellow guards. Even though the carriage was large, it was somewhat cramped as a result. They’d barely exchanged a few words when a young eunuch came smiling to invite him over, saying the road ahead was long, and the Second Prince requested Registrar Chen come speak with him up front.
Under the old dynasty’s ceremonial protocols, he would have had to ride in an open carriage with no coverings, unable to relax so freely — but this being only the second year of the new reign, for safety’s sake, the imperial family now traveled in fully enclosed, curtained carriages.
Chen Dasheng thought nothing of it and followed the young eunuch to the Second Prince’s carriage up front. Lifting the curtain, he entered to find — well now! Meng Dingchen and the Six Little Immortals were both already there.
The Six Little Immortals saw him and laughed, shifting his plump frame to one side. “Feilian, sit with me!”
Chen Dasheng smiled, lifted his robe, and sat down beside him without ceremony, facing the Second Prince and Meng Dingchen across from him.
No sooner had he settled than drums and music rang out outside, and the carriage slowly began to move.
Chen Dasheng had only ever traveled with His Majesty before, and had been too nervous that time to look closely — this time, though, he lifted the curtain and looked out for a good while before turning back to say earnestly, “Seems like there are quite a few more canopies and parasols than when His Majesty travels.”
Meng Dingchen and the Second Prince exchanged a glance and laughed together.
Meng Dingchen then explained, “Registrar Chen wouldn’t know this, but our Emperor is thrifty by nature, naturally never spending where he doesn’t have to. But Northern Huguo Temple has stood for nearly a thousand years now, and holds tremendous standing among the people — Master Xuan Shan is compassionate and has countless devoted followers, so naturally we owe him proper respect.”
Oddly enough, the Six Little Immortals said nothing at all today. Chen Dasheng turned to look and saw him pouting, saying, “We’re different from them. We’re Star Lords of the Daoist tradition!”
Ah, so that was it — they’d been playing at being Daoist deities these past few days!
Chen Dasheng held back a laugh and nodded, genuinely curious now about Huguo Temple, and asked Meng Dingchen further, “I’ve long heard the Commander hails from the Southern Huguo Temple, originally the same lineage — so why does the Northern Huguo Temple hold such far greater renown?”
This question struck right at the heart of the matter for the two men across from him. The Second Prince pouted first, then finally endured it and said, “Ah, that’s a long story. Registrar Chen, do you know, temples serve more than just burning incense and worshipping Buddha — they actually serve another purpose too.”
Naturally, Chen Dasheng had no idea, and shook his head.
The Second Prince explained carefully, “Actually, this story starts with the number one thousand. Registrar Chen may not know, but in the thousand years leading up to now, this land of ours has gone through five dynastic changes…”
Chen Dasheng nodded. “Mm, my teacher’s mentioned this — he said the shortest dynasty lasted only thirty-seven years.”
Hearing that he already knew this much, the Second Prince skipped past the detailed history and went straight to the point. “Actually, this land of ours has had recorded history for several thousand years, yet up until a thousand years ago, whenever a dynasty changed hands, it was always accompanied by great natural disasters and human calamities that drove the change. Because of this, the classics, agriculture, craftsmanship — all of it kept getting swept up and disrupted, leading to broken transmissions or even total loss.”
The Second Prince paused here, feeling parched, and took a sip of tea before continuing. “Once a new dynasty is established, the very first thing it usually does is survey the land and count the population. Once that’s settled, they begin reducing taxes and encouraging farming. But because of war and plague, each time a new dynasty rises, they have to research medicine and cultivate new grain seeds all over again from scratch — an extremely troublesome business. And so, Huguo Temple came into being…”
“I know this one!” The Six Little Immortals could no longer hold back, raising his hand high. “I know, I know, this part I know…”
The Second Prince, both amused and exasperated, had no choice but to nod. “Fine, Sixth Brother, you tell it.”
The Sixth Prince smiled and said, “I heard the monks tell it once, back when I went with our grandmother to the temple…”
The Second Prince cut in solemnly, “Sixth Brother… Grandmother is in the palace.”
The Sixth Prince, undeterred, answered, “The one in the palace is Empress Dowager Zheng. I’m talking about our real grandmother!”
The young prince stared fearlessly at his elder brother. After a long moment, the Second Prince could only sigh, rubbing the boy’s head. “You can only say that inside the carriage. Not in front of outsiders.”
Chen Dasheng, as if he hadn’t heard any of this, lifted the curtain and looked outside instead, asking, “Are we almost there?”
Meng Dingchen immediately jumped in with a laugh. “Still quite a ways to go! Oh, so the Sixth Prince knows about Huguo Temple’s history? Go ahead and tell Registrar Chen, he wants to hear it!”
Chen Dasheng let the curtain fall and nodded too. “Mm, I want to hear it.”
There was a moment of silence in the carriage, and after a good while, the Sixth Prince spoke up somewhat reluctantly. “It’s nothing much really — they say Huguo Temple has a thousand-year history, but it’s really more like eight hundred years… They say eight hundred years ago there was an eminent monk who built the great Huguo temples in the north and south. Whenever plague, great disaster, or war struck, Huguo Temple would gather grain seeds, medical prescriptions, and important classical texts from across the realm and preserve them, carving them onto stone tablets, so that once the nation was at peace again, they could be offered to the people to help them recover. That’s how it earned its current standing, receiving offerings from the common people and the imperial court alike across the generations.”
Having said this, the Sixth Prince looked at his elder brother, as if venting, and declared firmly, “Eight hundred years!”
The Second Prince, though hailing from the Southern Huguo Temple and generally easygoing, wouldn’t budge on this one point, and said through gritted teeth, “One thousand years!”
“Eight hundred years!”
“One thousand… years!”
This wasn’t the first time — there were always various reasons for this argument to flare up.
The Second Prince held real authority in the palace, but the Sixth Prince, well, he was an immortal — he wasn’t afraid of him.
Chen Dasheng, paying it no mind, lifted the curtain again to watch the excitement outside, and unexpectedly spotted a familiar face — Wu Xiu, of the Tan family.
The Tan family had come too?
Beside him, the two imperial brothers had launched into citing scripture and precedent to attack each other’s sect. Meng Dingchen, breaking into a nervous sweat, wanted to pull Chen Dasheng in to help calm things down — but instead, Chen Dasheng grabbed his sleeve first and asked, “Lord Meng, I seem to have gotten an instructor’s stipend added recently — what’s my annual salary now, again?”
For a moment, the whole carriage went silent, as Chen Dasheng muttered on the side, “Seems like my annual salary’s over two hundred piculs now, isn’t it?”
Meng Dingchen, unable to bear it any longer, said, “Registrar Chen certainly seems to care a great deal about his salary!”
Chen Dasheng scratched his head, looking bashful. “Mm, very much so. After all… I’ve got a family to feed!”