No one had anticipated that Pei Ruozhu would conceive such a plan — she had not even discussed it with Concubine Shen.

Pei Bingyuan’s expression grew heavy with worry, and he fell into silent contemplation.

Pei Ruozhu continued, “The Book of Songs says, ‘My father begot me, my mother raised me… wishing to repay such virtue, I find the vast heavens have no end.’ These words speak precisely to what is in my heart right now. I had wished to kneel in gratitude for the kindness of my parents, yet disaster has fallen from the sky — ‘The southern mountains are steep, the gusts of wind fierce.’ And still, I am unafraid. [1]”

Before the assembled family, she spoke on: “I am grateful to Father for traveling such a great distance to return home and stand behind me. I am grateful to Mother for her tireless scheming on my behalf. I am grateful to my two brothers for speaking up for me. I am grateful to my little mother for giving birth to me and cherishing me. The sisters of this household have treated me with warmth and harmony… The more grateful I am, the more unwilling I am to accept defeat. Father diligently serves as an official. My brothers toil away at their studies and training. In ten or so years, the Earl’s Mansion will be a very different place. I do not wish to remain here and become a burden to Father and my brothers.”

Her words were firm and resolute, her manner unwavering. Lin Shi and Concubine Shen stepped forward and tried at length to dissuade her, yet nothing moved her.

Pei Ruozhu turned to Concubine Shen and said, “Little Mother, you once told me that I could try to seek out the answers to right and wrong on my own.”

She was now doing exactly that — seeking her answer.

What moved Pei Bingyuan was the line “My father begot me, my mother raised me,” drawn from “Liao E” in the Minor Odes of the Book of Songs. He set down the hands that had been packing his bags and instructed his manservant, “Go to the Xu household and ask when Master Xu will be returning home from his office these next two days.”

If this matter was to be accomplished, he would have to trouble the Xu family once more.

Although Master Xu still held his post at the Court of State Ceremonial, he had already taken on a considerable share of the Ministry of Rites’ affairs. Anyone with a discerning eye could see that it was only a matter of time — once Minister Chen of the Ministry of Rites retired at the second rank, it was eight or nine chances in ten that Master Xu would step into his place.

“Thank you, Father, for granting this.”

Pei Shaohuai stood to one side, on the verge of speaking up to stop her, but he sealed his lips, once and again, and in the end held himself back.

The following afternoon, Pei Bingyuan brought Pei Ruozhu to call on the Xu household.

After hearing out Pei Bingyuan’s purpose, Master Xu sat in contemplative silence for a good while before speaking. “The eldest imperial prince is to be formally invested as Crown Prince, and a consort selection for the Eastern Palace will follow immediately. According to the ancestral injunctions of the founding emperor, in order to prevent the consort’s family from interfering in government affairs, the Crown Prince’s principal consort may only be chosen from among commoner women of good families. It would not be easy for your niece to participate in the Eastern Palace consort selection. Although the Pei family has had no officials for three generations and has kept no part in court affairs, they nonetheless still hold the title of Earl by hereditary succession. Even if she were to take the risk and enter the selection, she is destined not to obtain the principal outcome… In this matter, I am also powerless.”

Had it been another imperial prince — or an idle prince with no responsibilities — the Emperor might still have permitted some leeway.

But the Eastern Palace consort selection was something the Emperor himself would personally review. Who would dare entertain other ideas?

Master Xu continued, “Moreover, at this very time, both young Shaohuai and young Shaojin are in the midst of their studies and have earned something of a modest reputation among young scholars. For your family to send your niece to participate in the Eastern Palace consort selection at this juncture would be ill-timed.” Master Xu had come from a humble background and had garnered a fine reputation among the scholars of upright character, so he naturally weighed matters of reputation with particular care.

Pei Bingyuan nodded and replied, “I thank Master Xu for his guidance — I had not thought this through fully.” He then asked, “What if she were to enter as a female palace official instead?”

“That, I would support.” Master Xu first made his own position clear, then explained in careful detail. “First — female palace officials are educated and well-versed in literary principles; they are diligent in outward affairs and thoughtful within; they assist the Empress in managing the inner palace, and they are highly regarded by the Empress Dowager and the Empress alike. I have heard that last month the palace official in charge of dyeing, Old Chen — the ninth daughter — passed away of illness and old age in the palace, and Empress Sun wept for her, grieving deeply. This gives us some small glimpse of the standing female palace officials hold within the inner palace.”

“Second — your niece is still young. Entering the palace to keep a low profile, to make the acquaintance of noble personages, and then emerging five years later to seek a suitable marriage — by then, the situation may well be an entirely different one.”

Only then did he add a final note: “However, entering the inner palace as a female palace official is not the same as a man serving as an official. One’s thoughts must be meticulous, one’s words and conduct nimble — it is immensely difficult and demanding. If she were to enter something like the Bureau of Food or the Bureau of Bedchamber Affairs, the daily affairs would be numerous and complicated, the work physically taxing, and her future prospects not necessarily bright. It remains to be seen whether your niece has the resolve for this, and whether she has the aptitude.”

Pei Ruozhu sat quietly beside her father, listening. When Master Xu directed his question to her, she did not hesitate long before answering, “Whatever the outcome, I wish to try. I beg Master Xu to guide me.”

Master Xu was gratified and laughed heartily. “She is a girl with her own ideas.” He then went on, “I have heard that the princess has begun studying literature and painting, and will surely be in need of someone to attend to her studies. You might set your sights on that.”

Master Xu did not directly advise her on how to proceed. Instead, he spoke of the marriages of every princess since the founding of the Da Qing dynasty — how in earlier times they had mostly been wed into the households of dukes, marquises, and meritorious officials, with the sons of court nobility serving as prince consorts; but since the reigning Emperor took the throne, the practice had been changed. Princesses, like the imperial princes, were now required to choose their marriage partners from among commoner men of upright appearance and dignified conduct — they were no longer married into the families of dukes and marquises.

Having said all this, Master Xu added, “Last year, the Emperor even ordered people to bring silkworms from outside the palace, transplanted mulberry trees within, and then bestowed the silkworms upon the consorts and princesses of the inner palace — so that they might know the hardships of sericulture and the difficulty of producing clothing.”

He then asked Pei Ruozhu, “Do you know why I am telling you these things?”

Pei Ruozhu reflected for a moment before replying, “Your niece does not dare to speak of imperial family matters behind their backs. I only know that within the Earl’s Mansion, Mother and Little Mother still do their very best to plan far ahead on my behalf. In another place, regardless of who it might be, it ought to be the same.”

“And what else? There are no outsiders in this room — you may speak freely.”

“If one wishes to remain by the side of Princess Shunping, the key lies not with the princess, but with the Empress. And if one wishes to secure a position in one of the six bureaus, likewise, it lies with the Empress.”

“Well said.” Master Xu’s eyes curved warmly with a gentle smile. “That is the extent of the guidance I am able to offer you.”

Bamboo grows in the wild plains beyond, Its tips reaching the clouds, rising a hundred fathoms high, No one comes to admire its lofty integrity, It holds alone to its pure and steadfast heart. [2]

Because this was a minor selection rather than a full empire-wide selection, the women entering the process mostly came from the various prefectures and counties surrounding the capital, and they assembled in the capital city before long. In the middle of the year, the Ministry of Rites brought in batches of more than a thousand women who had entered for the Eastern Palace consort selection and the six-bureau female palace official selection. On the first day, their features, bearing, and dignity were assessed, and more than half were eliminated then and there.

Several days later, after repeated rounds of selection, only a little over a hundred women remained among those competing for the female palace official positions. When the Earl’s Mansion saw that Pei Ruozhu had not been sent back with her cloth bundle, they knew she had passed the first stage.

She would remain in the palace for another month after that, during which the Empress, along with the six chief palace supervisors, would carefully observe her temperament and speech, evaluate whether she was firm or gentle, unwise or intelligent, worthy or otherwise — and only at the end would they decide whether to retain her, and if so, in which bureau and division of the six supervisors’ offices she would serve, and in what capacity.

At the beginning of the seventh month, the Ministry of Rites posted a notice beneath the imperial city walls announcing the roster of selected female palace officials. The six supervisors’ offices had accepted thirty-two people in total, all of whom were bestowed the title of Female Scholar. The name of Pei Ruozhu appeared prominently on the list, which read: Pei Ruozhu, daughter of Pei Bingyuan, Magistrate of Yuchong County in Dongyang Prefecture, aged fifteen, bestowed the title of Female Scholar, assigned to the Supervisorate of Palace Attendants, appointed to the position of Reading Companion to the Princess.

The feelings of everyone in the Earl’s Mansion were complex — there was worry, and there was relief that Pei Ruozhu had achieved what she had wished for, but more than anything else, there was reluctance to let her go.

On the afternoon the list was posted, Pei Ruozhu came out of the palace and returned to the Earl’s Mansion. After resting for several days, she would be formally received into the palace by the Ministry of Rites in accordance with the prescribed rites, after which she would be difficult to see outside those high walls for years to come.

Inside the Earl’s Mansion, Pei Ruozhu told the family in detail about the selection process within the palace.

It turned out that because Pei Ruozhu’s looks were far too striking, and enhanced further by her bearing and demeanor, she had originally been slated for elimination. As it happened, that day there was a demonstration of talents, which the Empress Dowager and the Empress attended in person to observe. Pei Ruozhu, recalling Master Xu’s guidance, demonstrated her ability to transcribe account books and calculate figures on the abacus on the spot — flawless throughout — standing utterly apart from the other talents of the zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting variety.

The Empress asked why she had chosen such a dry and tedious talent to display. Pei Ruozhu answered that although it was tedious, it was practical.

Asked why she was so proficient in this skill, Pei Ruozhu replied that when she was at home she had accompanied her mother to the family estate to oversee agricultural and sericulture production, and had also managed the accounts of a shop, calculating income and expenditure, and jointly supervising the household servants — hence her proficiency.

She was then asked whether she could play the zither, play chess, write, or paint. Pei Ruozhu nodded, and at the Empress’s request played a piece on the spot — no worse than the other women.

Finally, the Empress asked her what sort of rouge and face powder she liked in her daily life. Pei Ruozhu kept her head lowered throughout and answered, “I do not apply rouge in my daily life.”

And so she was kept on.

As for the reasons behind this, only Empress Sun could know.

In the blink of an eye, three days passed. Tomorrow Pei Ruozhu would enter the palace. Concubine Shen was the most heartbroken of all — she could only stroke Pei Ruozhu over and over again, gazing at her, her eyes full of reluctance. Although there were countless things she wanted to admonish her about, the words would not come out.

Lian Jie’er came. Taking her younger sister’s hand in her own, eyes brimming with tears, she said, “I’ve known since you were small that you had a daring spirit — I didn’t think it would be this daring.” Privately she pressed a small folded slip of paper into Pei Ruozhu’s hand, and said quietly, “These few female palace officials have some dealings with the Ministry of Rites during festival banquets. Once you’re inside, you might try to get to know one or two of them — if something urgent happens, it would be easier to get word out.”

Ying Jie’er came too. She said she had found out from her mother-in-law, Madam Chen, about certain unwritten rules of the inner palace, and recounted them to Pei Ruozhu one by one, telling her to pay attention to these things in her daily life lest she inadvertently offend someone of high standing.

Pei Ruozhu thanked both of her elder sisters in turn.

Lin Shi sought Pei Ruozhu out privately and said, “Many of those palace maids are the snobbish sort. Even though you are a female palace official, they won’t necessarily listen to you. Once you have entered, I will find a way to pass some money to you through the purchasing agents each month — enough for you to smooth things over with those who work under you… But, just as it is with managing servants, this is no long-term strategy. To truly find your footing, you will need to devise your own plans.”

“Thank you for the guidance, Mother.” Pei Ruozhu replied.

After a moment’s thought, Pei Ruozhu said to Lin Shi, “Mother, I think I may have caught sight of the eldest daughter of the Liu family inside the palace — serving as a female archivist in the Bureau of Food. I’m not certain whether I saw correctly.”

Lin Shi was taken aback. Thinking of a family like the Liu household and a mistress like that one, she supposed it was no great surprise that Liu Jiaojiao had been sent into the palace. She warned Pei Ruozhu, “Keep your distance from her. She has a vicious heart and is not all that clever — I fear she’ll bring trouble down upon herself.”

“I understand, Mother.”

The next day, there was still about half an hour before the Ministry of Rites’ people would arrive.

Ying Jie’er had cried through the night until her eyes were red and swollen. Today she had been holding it in and dared not cry in front of her sister. She had wanted to stay in her room so her sister would not see her puffy eyes, yet she also wanted to see her sister off at the door — and so she had come.

“Silly little sister.” Pei Ruozhu patted Ying Jie’er’s head with quiet composure. “You ought to be happy for me. After all these years, your sister can finally win one on her own terms.”

“Zhu Jiejie learns everything so quickly — how could this be your only win?”

Pei Ruozhu explained, “What you’ve learned doesn’t count as winning. Only when it’s held firmly in your own hands — stable and secure — does it count.”

Pei Shaohuai presented Pei Ruozhu with a set of books and said, “Knowing that Third Elder Sister loves the Book of Songs, I copied out the upper volume to give to you — take it inside as something to remember home by.”

The little shadow, Jin Ge’er, who had none of his usual liveliness, followed with, “I copied the lower volume. I will listen to Little Mother.”

“It is very thoughtful of you, little brother.” Pei Ruozhu replied. During the days she had been ill, it was the bold fire those two brothers had lit that had kept her spirits alive — burning away the timidity in her heart — something she had never been able to forget. To have such brothers, what more could she ask for? Pei Ruozhu went on, “Though I am still of low standing at this moment, I have a wish I would like my brothers to know: when the day comes that you have achieved great things, I hope that I shall have the ability to light a fire for you in return — to celebrate and honor you well.”

“The day of great achievement will come. Your brother awaits your good news in peace.” Pei Shaohuai replied.

Pei Ruozhu then admonished Jin Ge’er, “You must not only listen to Little Mother — you must listen to Father and Mother, to the tutor, and to Elder Brother… With me gone, take good care of Little Mother.” Her composure, which had held until now, began to break at that last line, her voice catching with a sob.

“By imperial order — receiving and escorting Female Scholar Pei Ruozhu——” A long, drawn-out call rang out — the Ministry of Rites’ men had arrived at the Earl’s Mansion gate.

Concubine Shen clutched Pei Ruozhu’s hand and dissolved into tears, refusing to let go.

“Little Mother, your daughter will certainly be all right.”

Lin Shi, red-eyed, stepped in to hold Concubine Shen back. The Ministry of Rites’ attendants led Pei Ruozhu away, step by step receding into the distance. She held up those two volumes of the Book of Songs and turned back for one last wave, then slowly shrank to a small dot and was gone…

On the first page of those two volumes, a line had been transcribed from “Tang Di” in the Book of Songs: “How beautiful are the flowers of the cherry-apple tree, how gloriously the calyx shines — of all the people in this world today, none can compare to one’s own brothers.” [3]

Jin Ge’er said to Pei Shaohuai, “Elder Brother, I feel terrible. I want to cry.”

“Then cry — I’m already crying.”

Jin Ge’er then asked, “Elder Sister told me to listen to Elder Brother. What should I do from now on?”

“Last time I told you to write it down in a notebook — did you?”

Jin Ge’er nodded.

Pei Shaohuai said, “Then take it out often and look through it. Don’t forget today, and don’t forget the humiliations you’ve suffered — turn them into the strength to study and read hard. Make something of yourself. That matters more than anything.”

On the night of Mid-Autumn Festival, everyone gazed at the round moon to send their longing across the distance. Pei Bingyuan was away on his official posting; Pei Ruozhu had entered the palace. The old grandmother, knowing her own wrongdoing, remained in her courtyard reciting sutras to the Buddha, making the entire Earl’s Mansion feel somber and heavy, without any sense of the round moon and the gathered family that the occasion called for.

Several days later, news came from the Xu household: at the Mid-Autumn grand banquet, Princess Shunping had composed a poem that drew great praise from the Emperor, who commended her for her growing scholarship. The following day, the Empress promoted Pei Ruozhu to the rank of the eighth grade female archivist, appointing her to the position of Transmitter of Messages in the Supervisorate of Palace Attendants.

In her daily duties she continued as before to attend Princess Shunping in her studies, but in addition she now served as a messenger and petitioner on the Empress’s behalf.

This showed that Pei Ruozhu’s start had been rather smooth.

The whole family brightened considerably. They had not celebrated Mid-Autumn properly, but today they were in the mood to eat and drink properly at last.

Life returned to its normal course. The two brothers Pei Shaohuai and Pei Shaojin applied themselves to their studies with even greater diligence, their progress advancing at a pace that astonished everyone.

One day, Xu Yancheng took his own essay and set it alongside Pei Shaohuai’s to compare. The more he looked, the more he felt he fell short of Pei Shaohuai by more than a small measure. He scratched his head and asked Tutor Duan, “Tutor, I have always known that my essay writing is not as good as Shaohuai’s — but over these past two or three months, how is it that the gap seems to be growing wider and wider? I haven’t been neglecting my daily coursework, so could it be that I am making progress too slowly?”

Tutor Duan shook his head. “You are making very fast progress — at your age, your father and your second uncle were far behind where you are now.”

“Then why?”

“It is Shaohuai who is progressing too fast.” Tutor Duan said with the weight of experience, “Have you not noticed that he has a fire pent up inside him?… It is like a horse of a thousand li — running casually, he is already fast enough. But once you crack the whip, you discover he can go even faster still.”

Xu Yancheng asked with concern, “Then will Shaohuai exhaust himself?”

Tutor Duan shook his head, unbothered, and said, “Once he has run far enough, he will stop of his own accord to rest… What I worry about is Shaojin. His disposition is not yet steady enough, and yet he is pressing close behind his elder brother.”

Xu Yancheng grew even more worried. “Tutor, what is to be done?”

“I cannot hold Shaohuai back, but I will hold Shaojin back.” Tutor Duan said. “You are a good child — don’t be in a hurry.”

Xu Yancheng’s anxious heart settled.

After taking several deep breaths, a thought suddenly flashed through his mind, and he continued to ask the tutor, “Tutor, if you don’t hold Shaohuai back, doesn’t that mean Shaohuai will be a step ahead of me and Shaojin, and sit the prefectural examination earlier?”

“Precisely.” The tutor replied. “With his current level of learning, perhaps as early as the prefectural examination next June, he may well give it a try. You and Shaojin have not yet reached the right stage — do as I said before, wait two years, let your written strength become steady and reliable, and then go to sit the examination.”

Xu Yancheng’s eyes rolled around in a lively spin, and he brightened, saying merrily, “Tutor — does that mean I can compete for second place?”