On the first day of the ninth month, the military examination results were released — Shao Zhongran had placed fourteenth.

When the good news arrived, the Weiwei Marquis family immediately sent their steward to the Shao Family’s separate residence to set off firecrackers in celebration. By comparison, the Yongping Marquis Mansion displayed a measure of restraint: Steward Zhao was sent carrying a set of half-worn battle armor to the Shao Family.

“…This was worn by the Marquis during his campaign to the Miao frontier.”

Shao Zhongran was greatly astonished. He received it with both hands and reverently placed it in his study, then accompanied Steward Zhao to the reception hall for wine.

The hall was full of well-wishers come to offer congratulations. The steward from the Lin Family accounts office was there too — the two being acquainted, he smiled and came forward to greet them: “Young Master, please go attend to your guests — I’ll keep Steward Zhao company.”

Along the east side of the reception hall, a room had been partitioned off for Shao Zhongran’s fellow examination graduates.

Shao Zhongran made no ceremony of it, said a few words smilingly, and went next door.

The Lin Family accounts office steward introduced Steward Zhao to the people seated around the hall.

Then a page boy came running in breathlessly: “Someone has come from the palace — the Emperor wishes to see our Young Master. He is to go into the palace immediately.”

The entire hall erupted in astonishment. Everyone pressed forward to offer congratulations. Some said “Zhongran, you’ve risen to the sky in a single bound,” others said “Zhongran, perhaps the Empress wishes to see you,” still others laughed and said “Zhongran, having connections at court really does make for an easier path!”

Shao Zhongran smiled and responded to everyone — saying “I’ll borrow your kind words” to some, “let us hope so” to others — concealing none of his happiness, yet never letting it carry him to arrogance. He was composed and gracious throughout.

Standing among the crowd, Steward Zhao gave a slight nod, though his eyes carried a trace of gravity.

After seeing Shao Zhongran off as he went to change clothes and depart, Steward Zhao used the excuse that the Grand Madam was still awaiting his report and hurried back to Lotus Flower Lane.

“At a time like this — summoning Shao Zhongran into the palace…” Xu Lingyi set his brush on the rack and leaned back in the grand master’s chair, his expression turning contemplative.

Steward Zhao saw this and stepped forward, lowering his voice: “I’ve already sent someone to relay a message into the palace. At the earliest by the hour of hai, at the latest by early the next morning, word should come through.”

Xu Lingyi nodded, and was just about to say something when the sound of rapid little footsteps came from outside the study door.

Short steps, quick and resonant.

Who else but Jin Ge’er would dare run like that outside his study?

The corner of Xu Lingyi’s mouth curved into a pleased arc.

Steward Zhao’s gaze flickered. Then came a sound of “yah!” and the door was pushed open — Jin Ge’er came running in full of excitement.

“Father, Father!” He rounded the writing desk and climbed onto Xu Lingyi’s lap as he sat in the grand master’s chair. “My bird.”

A small sparrow was clutched tightly in his short, chubby little hand.

Xu Lingyi smiled gently, his gaze full of affection.

He patted his son’s head and said softly: “Steward Zhao is here — why didn’t you greet Steward Zhao?”

Jin Ge’er then turned and called out “Steward Zhao.”

Steward Zhao quickly bowed in return, politely saying he didn’t deserve it, then said warmly: “Did the Sixth Young Master go to the back garden to catch birds?”

Jin Ge’er nodded and turned back to Xu Lingyi: “Suifeng caught it. He caught worms too. Birds eat worms.”

His speech was much clearer than it had been a few months ago.

Xu Lingyi listened and scooped his son up into his arms: “Come on, let’s go to the back garden and catch worms!” Then he instructed Steward Zhao: “We’ll talk when word comes!”

Steward Zhao smiled and agreed, watching as Xu Lingyi and Jin Ge’er departed.

The news came back somewhat sooner than either Xu Lingyi or Steward Zhao had anticipated.

“…The Emperor asked the examination graduate Shao: ‘In ancient times, the art of warfare lay in finding the right commanders. Please, Graduate Shao, draw upon the ancient methods and apply them to today’s use!'”

He asked about the art of warfare!

Xu Lingyi leaned to one side in his chair: “And how did Graduate Shao answer?”

The messenger who came to report was an imperial attendant of fifteen or sixteen, with very quick, bright eyes. Upon hearing the question, he respectfully answered: “Graduate Shao was appearing before the Emperor for the first time and was inevitably somewhat nervous. After a moment’s thought, he replied: ‘When the right commanders are found, one can read the enemy and secure victory — sweeping all before them as wind drives away clouds, none able to resist. Whether a commander of wisdom, a commander of valor, a commander of great renown, or a commander of benevolence and righteousness — all must be versed in strategy, uniting wisdom and courage. In deploying troops and directing campaigns, one must enforce strict discipline, know how to adapt, combine the unorthodox with the orthodox, and ensure that every battle is won, every target taken…'”

All empty rhetoric!

The attendant spoke while covertly watching Xu Lingyi’s expression.

The longer Xu Lingyi listened, the graver his expression grew. When the attendant had finished, he managed a strained smile: “And what did the Emperor say then?”

Such a rare opportunity, squandered just like that. The attendant felt he could understand what Xu Lingyi was thinking, and a flicker of sympathy passed through his eyes. Thinking of how Xu Lingyi had always treated them well over the years, his voice softened somewhat further.

“The Emperor then asked Graduate Shao how many people were in his family and what they all did.” The attendant said, hands lowered respectfully. “Upon hearing that Graduate Shao had a younger brother at home, fifteen years old and just preparing to sit for the military licentiate examination — the Emperor’s manner suddenly paused, and he smiled and said to Commander Ouyang standing nearby: ‘Don’t you have a niece, thirteen years old, not yet betrothed? Here before you is a fine match. What are you waiting for? Send someone to the Shao family to propose at once!'”

Commander Ouyang — this was the Imperial Guard Commander, Ouyang Ming. He had entered the palace at thirteen as a bodyguard at the Emperor’s side, and was of a reclusive temperament — apart from a few fellow townsmen from his military days, he had no dealings with anyone else. He was the person the Emperor trusted most.

For the Emperor to speak this way was tantamount to an imperially bestowed marriage.

A man of Ouyang Ming’s character would certainly agree.

Both Xu Lingyi and Steward Zhao’s expressions changed drastically. Steward Zhao even said: “So it seems the two families are to be joined in marriage!”

“Yes!” The attendant smiled. “Commander Ouyang and Graduate Shao both kowtowed together before the Emperor, thanking him for the bestowal of marriage. The Emperor was very pleased, bestowed two jars of Jade Dew wine upon Graduate Shao, and had our men see Graduate Shao out of the palace. By now, Graduate Shao should already be home!”

“You’ve worked hard, Gong-gong.” Xu Lingyi glanced at Steward Zhao, then said courteously: “Please convey my regards to Chief Eunuch Lei upon your return!”

The attendant quickly bowed: “I dare not accept such a form of address from the Marquis.” He was modest for a few words, then followed Steward Zhao out of the study.

Xu Lingyi sat there in contemplation for a moment.

Steward Zhao returned.

“A piece of jadeite jade plaque was sent as a gift.” He said, then revealed a trace of hesitation: “What do you think about this matter?”

Xu Lingyi waved his hand and said: “This is also the Emperor’s grace toward the Shao family. Prepare some gift money and go to the Shao family to offer congratulations.” Saying this, he stood up. “We can finally breathe easy. Tonight we can sleep soundly!”

Steward Zhao broke into a smile and escorted Xu Lingyi to the inner gate.

Xu Lingyi smiled and entered the main courtyard.

The large red lanterns hanging under the eaves bathed the courtyard in vivid crimson. The tree leaves rustled in the summer breeze, mingled with the clear, resonant sound of Xu Sijie’s voice reciting his lessons.

Xu Lingyi stood under the eaves and listened for a moment before lifting the bamboo curtain and entering the main hall.

The young maid on duty turned to go announce him.

Xu Lingyi shook his hand at her and moved quietly into the inner room.

Eleventh Young Madam was seated on the large kang bed by the window. Xu Sijie stood before the kang, hands clasped behind his back — one holding a copy of the Youxue Qionglin and reading from it, the other standing ramrod straight reciting from memory. And there was a tiny little figure seated across from Eleventh Young Madam, lips pursed, squirming and shifting as though sitting on a bed of needles.

Xu Lingyi could not help but smile.

The little figure’s face suddenly lit up. He sprang to his feet and called out “Father!” at the top of his lungs, as though he had found a deliverer.

Eleventh Young Madam cast her son a look.

Jin Ge’er immediately sat back down, called out a small “Father,” and pursed his lips, looking utterly wronged.

“The Marquis has returned!” Eleventh Young Madam stepped down from the kang.

Xu Sijie also turned and greeted Xu Lingyi with a bow.

Jin Ge’er looked at Xu Lingyi with longing, but dared not budge from where he sat.

Xu Lingyi stepped forward and picked his son up: “What’s happened?”

Jin Ge’er immediately threw his arms around his father’s neck and pressed his head against Xu Lingyi’s shoulder.

“Jie Ge’er is reciting his book,” Eleventh Young Madam offered Xu Lingyi a cup of tea and called a young maid in to help him change clothes. “He was running all around and refused to listen. It only made him noisier, and then he started clamoring for his brother to take him out to play. I made him sit in the corner of the kang, and told everyone to pay him no mind.”

Jin Ge’er clung tightly to his father’s neck, looking very much as though he feared Xu Lingyi might put him down.

Xu Lingyi’s heart went quite soft.

“It’s alright, it’s alright!” He gently patted his son’s back to soothe him. “Since older brother needs to recite his book, we just won’t disturb him.” He then asked Eleventh Young Madam: “Has Jie Ge’er finished his book?”

“Two more pages!” Eleventh Young Madam answered.

Xu Lingyi then said softly to Jin Ge’er: “Then let’s go to the study and paint, shall we?”

Jin Ge’er immediately raised his head, his smile brilliant as summer sunshine: “Yes! Yes! I want to paint!”

Xu Lingyi laughed and pressed a kiss to his son’s cheek, then carried Jin Ge’er off to the study.

Jin Ge’er sat on his father’s lap, clutching a brush and making a mess on the xuan paper. Sometimes it was a blob of ink, sometimes a long sweeping stroke. Xu Lingyi would add a few touches to the ink blobs and turn them into charmingly rotund little chicks, add a few strokes to the long sweeps and make them into dragons soaring through clouds. Jin Ge’er was so delighted he giggled and giggled, and pushed the brush into his father’s hand: “Draw peacock — peacock spread hands!”

Xu Lingyi laughed and corrected him: “That isn’t called peacock spread hands — it’s called a peacock displaying its tail!”

Jin Ge’er followed along immediately: “Draw peacock displaying its tail!”

Peacocks typically displayed their tails in spring, but Suifeng had somehow managed, for reasons unknown, to make the peacock display its tail in front of Xu Lingyi and Jin Ge’er. Jin Ge’er had clapped his hands with delight, and Suifeng had received a reward of ten taels of silver for his efforts.

Xu Lingyi had never painted a peacock before. He laughed: “Tomorrow we’ll go to the back garden and paint the peacock!”

Jin Ge’er wouldn’t agree, and squirmed back and forth in Xu Lingyi’s lap.

Eleventh Young Madam walked in: “Marquis, it’s getting late — please wash up and rest soon!”

Jin Ge’er’s movements subsided somewhat.

Xu Lingyi found this enormously amusing. He patted his son’s back soothingly and laughed: “The book is done!”

“Yes!” Eleventh Young Madam said, and reached over to pick Jin Ge’er up. “I’ll go give Jin Ge’er his bath!”

Xu Lingyi ruffled his son’s hair and walked with Eleventh Young Madam toward the main room.

A page boy came running in: “Marquis, the First Son-in-law has come!”

“At this hour?” Eleventh Young Madam was startled. She looked up and saw Xu Lingyi’s pensive expression, and could not help but ask: “Has something happened?”

“I’ll tell you when I’m back.” Xu Lingyi said quietly. “You go coax Jin Ge’er to sleep first.” And with the page boy, he walked quickly toward the outer courtyard.

Eleventh Young Madam coaxed the child to sleep, then sat beneath the lamplight embroidering a few stitches of the Gu Feng pattern, finding it too hot, and moved to the long cane chair in the hall, fanning herself with a palace fan and chatting with Zhuxiang: “…Tell Hupo that the child comes first. Once the child is well cared for, the rest can follow. Here on my side, there’s still you. If truly needed, we’ll just find a few more capable young maids in the mansion.”

“That’s just what I said!” Zhuxiang smiled. “But Sister Hupo already has another pregnancy, and thinking of the promise she once made you, she can’t help but feel anxious.”

“I’m not even anxious — what is she anxious about.” Eleventh Young Madam said, and then saw Xu Lingyi lift the curtain and come in.

—