Yun Ye’s memorial had been rejected. On it were four large characters written in vermilion ink by Li’er: “Utterly Incomprehensible.” Each character gave Yun Ye a feeling of being mocked. His mood was utterly terrible. All he had requested was that this year’s imperial examinations recruit more talents in investigation and study—these talents would be the future pillars of the Great Tang. They would be distributed among the Three Departments and Six Ministries, even in every prefecture and county, bringing the Great Tang more practical talents rather than a few more pedants who could recite crooked poetry.
In Yun Ye’s view, the Tang dynasty’s imperial examinations were just a joke. They employed a system combining examination and recommendation for admission. The quality of the examination papers was only one aspect of evaluation—the chief examiners had to give even more consideration to the personal relationships and face of those who recommended candidates. To increase their chances of passing, examination candidates would compile their poetry and prose, write them into scrolls, and before the exam use connections to present them to people of social standing, seeking recommendations—this was called “submitting scrolls.”
This way, the children of officials had an innate advantage, while the children of commoners were merely props. Their inherent disadvantages left them completely in the dark on this away game. The Scholar examination had gone years without anyone registering, and the Mathematics examination was mostly filled with incompetent fools. Who knew what gave Li’er the confidence to say with such satisfaction: “All the talented people under heaven have entered my net.”
So be it! Since you, Li’er, look down on those failed commoner candidates, I’ll just find a few useful talents from among them. Let’s see if your so-called recruited talents are more formidable, or if the people I find from the failed candidates are more capable. This year’s imperial examination would see the famous Ma Zhou fail, and Liu Rengui would be assigned to serve as county captain in Baoji. As long as he found these two fellows, anyone Li’er found would be trash in comparison.
The Ah Q method of self-consolation had its proper effect—Yun Ye felt much better. Previously when he had sought to borrow people from the mathematics master Liu Huai, not only did he fail to borrow anyone, he was instead dragged into teaching several classes. He had no subordinates of his own—what a disadvantage! No, since it was called the Institute of Investigation, he would simply treat it as a school. Because the school was in the Imperial City, he refused to believe he couldn’t recruit students.
Investigation should start from childhood—this was roughly what Yun Ye said to Li Chengqian. Since everyone else didn’t value it, he would accomplish something to show them, and then blind their dog eyes with brilliance.
Li Chengqian was quite frightened, because Yun Ye was very agitated, standing on the table with spittle flying, impassioned like a mad dog, his hands flailing as if having a seizure.
“If there are no students, I’ll just buy you a few, how about that?” In his view, Yun Ye had gone crazy from wanting to be a teacher—better to quickly buy him a few students to appease him and send him away.
Yun Ye stopped convulsing and slapped himself hard on the head. How could he have forgotten that he was in the evil Tang dynasty, where people could be bought and sold, and not for much money either—especially children, three for ten strings of cash.
He jumped down from the table and headed home right away to ask his aunt where he could buy some children. In his excitement, he couldn’t hear Li Chengqian’s shouting at all.
A half-gray-haired man knelt straight-backed at the gate of the Yun residence, with a woman kneeling beside him and two children standing behind them. The household servants asked them to leave, but the man said he had been bought by the marquis for twenty strings of cash and would wait right there for the master to come out. When told that the marquis had gone to the imperial palace, he said he could wait.
Yun Ye rode his horse back in a hurry and saw a crowd gathered at the residence gate from afar. Thinking something had happened, he had just approached when the servants discovered the marquis had returned home. They had just called out when the onlookers scattered with a whoosh at the sight.
“You’re called that—right, you’re called Qian Tong? The one selling himself at the West Market entrance?”
“This old slave kowtows to the marquis.” Qian Tong knocked his head on the ground with thumping sounds.
“Hurry up and get up. Aren’t you afraid of others laughing at you? Whose old slave are you? I was happy to see your pitiful state and rewarded you with a couple of silver cakes—what’s the big deal?”
“The marquis is magnanimous. Qian Tong appreciates it in his heart. Back then, the marquis threw down twenty strings of cash and left in a hurry. The marquis can treat it as nothing, but Qian Tong cannot. Now that my wife’s illness has recovered, I naturally should come to the residence to serve.” He truly was a person who kept his word—Yun Ye praised him inwardly.
“Since you’re determined to repay me, I just happen to lack an advisor by my side. You’ll do. Now come with me to handle some business. You there, go tell Steward Aunt to arrange accommodations for Madam Qian and her children. Tell her I’ve hired Master Qian.” Yun Ye was so desperate for people that naturally he wouldn’t pass up a useful person like Qian Tong.
Qian Tong wasn’t an affected person either. Since he considered himself a member of the Yun household, he naturally didn’t care whether he was a servant or an advisor. He cupped his hands and said, “I respectfully accept the order,” then gave his wife a few instructions before standing beside Yun Ye awaiting arrangements.
Qian Tong was indeed a longtime Chang’an resident. What Yun Ye had thought would be a complicated process of buying people was simplified by him. A row of four or five human traffickers stood before Yun Ye for the marquis to choose from.
Yun Ye didn’t choose. He only told the traffickers that he needed boys between ten and fourteen years old, intelligent ones, preferably literate, with the number controlled at fifteen. If there were any exceptionally clever girls, they could be taken as well.
“I won’t ask about the money, but the origins must be clean. If any have been kidnapped, this marquis will make you wish you were dead.” In the end, Yun Ye warned these traffickers—he didn’t want to become the chief culprit in child abduction.
The traffickers each patted their chests saying they would never do such heaven-defying things. Moreover, the authorities managed things strictly—if such a thing happened, they wouldn’t need the marquis to act; the trade guild would skin them alive.
The human market! Another characteristic of feudal dynasties. When he was young studying history, he had seen illustrations of a robust man having his mouth pried open by a fat slave owner to examine his teeth—it felt no different from buying livestock. Female slaves faced an even crueler reality, having to face endless molestation every day. In Tang law, servants were equivalent to large livestock—even less valuable, actually. Privately slaughtering oxen would result in official questioning and fines, and one might be detained for a few days as a warning. He’d never heard of anyone investigating the beating to death of servants. Although the “Tang Code” clearly stipulated that killing slaves or maidservants without cause would result in one hundred strokes of the cane, no one had ever been punished for this offense.
Cheng Chumo said that every day unnamed corpses were thrown at the mass grave mound. His Golden Guards would see them during every patrol. As long as there was no aggrieved party, no one would inquire. The so-called “if the people don’t complain, officials don’t investigate” was exactly this principle.
Qian Tong was very useful. In just a few days at the household, he managed everything smoothly from top to bottom—a capable person. Old Madam had Steward Aunt step down to only manage the inner courtyard, while the outer courtyard was handed over to Qian Tong to handle. His family of three lived in a small courtyard and seemed quite content.
“Old Qian, having you serve as household steward is beneath you. Once I find a suitable candidate, you won’t need to do this job anymore. How about coming to my side to help me?” Yun Ye felt somewhat guilty—clearly it had been agreed he would be an advisor, yet somehow he had become a steward.
“Hehe, the marquis worries too much. The old madam asked me beforehand whether being a steward would be beneath me. I told the old madam that before coming to the Yun residence, I had already changed my status to that of a lowly person. Since I had already lost my dignity, the status of a commoner no longer suited me. Once I extended that hand, I was destined to become lowly. If not for the marquis’s helping hand, I’m afraid I couldn’t have even sold myself for twenty taels of silver, and my wife’s body would have long been buried in the yellow earth. The marquis is now full of vigor and vitality, at a time of soaring ascent. My selling myself to serve you may well be my good fortune.”
He saw things clearly, without any aggrieved expression. Presumably, years of wandering and hardship had long since worn away the heroic spirit in his heart. Now, having just obtained some peaceful and prosperous days in the Yun residence, he was content.
Steward Aunt quietly told Yun Ye that as soon as she had arranged for Madam Qian’s family to move into the small side courtyard, Madam Qian had cried her heart out, touching the household items in the room over and over again, constantly asking, “Is this really our room?”
A poor couple grieves over everything. Regardless of what the fortune in Qian Tong’s mouth actually was, as long as he was willing, it was good fortune. Where the heart finds peace is home!