233 BCE
Shengping Lane was originally where the most noble aristocrats of the Qin state resided. It was said that the entire lane belonged to this one family. Back in the day, visitors came in endless streams to pay their respects, lights blazed through the night, and it truly could be called a scene of song, dance, and prosperity.
But when the family patriarch fled the country as a traitor, Shengping Lane suddenly became desolate. Although the King of Qin didn’t reclaim this estate, clearly this family could no longer afford the expenses of maintaining this mansion. They dismissed their servants and gradually rented out sections of the vast estate and lane.
After several decades, Shengping Harbor became a place where peddlers and common folk frequently lingered. So much time had passed that they had forgotten what surname the owners of this estate even had. Even the nameplate on the estate was covered in dust, with only a vague “Gan” character still visible.
At a side gate of one section of the estate, since the beginning of spring, a four or five-year-old boy had been sitting on the threshold. Wearing a yellowed kudzu robe covered in patches, holding a bundle of bamboo scrolls, he sat there quietly with his head down, reading. At first, some people playfully approached to tease him and chat, but later they discovered this was a child who knew nothing except reading scrolls, so they shook their heads and left. In fact, they knew that in these times, anyone who had book scrolls must be descendants of great families. But looking at this child’s clothes and pale complexion… this family was probably so poor they only had books left!
Over time, people who frequently moved about Shengping Harbor also got used to this child sitting on the threshold. No one really believed he could actually understand those obscure book scrolls—after all, literate people were extremely rare in these times. Many people thought this child was just holding the scrolls for show. Moreover, this child also liked to lift his head after finishing reading each day, gazing into the distance at the sunset until the sun set.
“Is the sunset beautiful?” A young, clear voice sounded from beside the child.
“In my observation, it is not the sunset.”
The boy didn’t turn his head but continued gazing at the setting sun slowly descending in the western sky. This person beside him had been sitting for quite a while, and he hadn’t expected him to want to discuss such a boring topic.
“Oh? Then what is it?” That person hadn’t expected a child of this age to be so articulate and speak so steadily, incomparably better than his ignorant peers. He followed the child’s gaze, squinted his eyes, and said, “Could it be Xianyang Palace?”
“Indeed.” The boy’s lips curved slightly upward as he smiled and nodded.
That person fell silent for a moment, then suddenly understood why the boy liked to sit on the threshold reading. Looking through the open gate into the courtyard, the narrow yard was piled high with miscellaneous items, and the high courtyard walls blocked the view. Only by sitting here on the threshold could one glimpse a corner of Xianyang Palace’s eaves. Looking at Xianyang Palace appearing majestic and magnificent in the sunset, that person increasingly felt this child was extraordinary. He had once traveled through various states, and this time at a good friend’s request, he came to Great Qin to search for his descendants. He had already thoroughly investigated this little child beside him—he was one of the people he sought. Originally planning to just leave a few hundred gold and depart, but this child really was exceptional.
“Do you wish to enter the palace?” That person asked with a smile, thinking to himself that he was indeed worthy of being descended from nobility—harboring great ambitions!
“No.” The boy shook his head, pointing at the distant eaves of Xianyang Palace. “The scenery is best there. I want to sit on that ridge beast!”
“Just to see the scenery?” That person was slightly surprised. “You actually know about ridge beasts. Do you know what ridge beasts are?”
“Waterproofing, ridge protection, beautification.” The boy spoke word by word, using just six simple characters to summarize the functions of ridge beasts, clearly not learning this from others. Because if someone else had told him, they would have explained in more detail.
“Indeed.” That person was somewhat delighted. This child was surprisingly intelligent beyond his expectations. Actually, ridge beasts were those beast ornaments on the eaves. The main ridge had kiss beasts and watching beasts, vertical ridges had hanging beasts, diagonal ridges had diagonal beasts, and immortals and walking beasts were placed at the roof edge. Craftsmen used devouring beasts to tightly seal the meeting points of the two-slope roof ridge tiles, preventing rainwater leakage, both protecting the ridge and providing beautiful decoration. Generally, hip roofs had five ridges with six ridge beasts, commonly called “five ridges, six beasts.” But Xianyang Palace’s main hall was a double-eaved hip roof, making it “nine ridges, ten beasts.”
The sunset slowly descended during their question-and-answer exchange, gradually disappearing behind the mighty and magnificent main hall of Xianyang Palace. Without the sunset’s reflection, the magnificent glazed tiles on those eaves also dimmed, leaving only the silhouettes of ridges and ridge beasts in the evening glow.
The boy withdrew his gaze and began rolling up the scrolls in his hands. Daylight had faded, and his family was so poor they had no lamp oil for him to study by at night, so a day’s learning could only end here. Fortunately, no matter how destitute his family became, his father and uncle had no intention of selling the book scrolls collected at home. Most of the rooms where they now lived were occupied by scrolls collected by their ancestors.
That uninvited guest glanced at the scrolls the boy hadn’t finished rolling, catching only a few lines before immediately freezing. This child was only how old? And already reading the “Doctrine of the Mean”? Could he just be holding it to bluff people? He couldn’t help asking, “Are you born knowing? Learning to know? Or knowing through hardship? Do you act with ease? Act for benefit? Or act through forced effort?”
This sentence came from a passage in the “Doctrine of the Mean” and could be interpreted various ways. The reason book scrolls were difficult to transmit at this time was first because bamboo slips were too cumbersome and difficult to copy, and second because there was no punctuation, making sentence breaks impossible. Even if one was truly literate, without a teacher’s guidance, one couldn’t understand the meaning at all. This person picked out this passage from the “Doctrine of the Mean” to ask about, which actually discussed the grades of human aptitude. In his view, if the boy before him could really understand the scrolls in his hands, then he could indeed be considered “born knowing.”
The boy didn’t stop rolling the scrolls in his hands but calmly replied, “Only after learning does one know one’s insufficiency; only after teaching does one know difficulty. Knowing insufficiency, one can then reflect on oneself; knowing difficulty, one can then strengthen oneself.”
That person was startled upon hearing this, then greatly delighted. This string of words the boy spoke came from the “Book of Rites: Record of Learning.” It both cleverly answered his question and had hidden implications, because the end of this sentence was “teaching and learning promote each other.” Could this be hinting that he wanted to take him as a teacher? Ah! He really wanted such a disciple too! What to do? Should he be a bit reserved?
But this boy continued leisurely, “This is knowing through hardship and acting through effort.”
That person was nearly choked speechless by this concluding remark. This… this! Knowing through hardship and acting through effort? Was this self-deprecation? Nonsense! This was sophistry!
The boy had now put away the scrolls in his hands. The scrolls were so heavy he had to hold them with both arms to lift them. He swayed as he stood up, about to lower his head and walk into the courtyard. That person quickly stood up to support him, urgently asking, “Do you lack a teacher? I can be your master!”
The boy raised his head, looking directly at this person who had been chattering beside him for the first time. Hmm, though quite handsome, that was all he was—just handsome. And wearing a green Daoist robe, but with that face, he didn’t look like a proper Daoist. The boy curled his lip with slight disdain, “You are a Daoist. I don’t wish to seek immortality or ask about the Dao.” Then he waved his patched kudzu robe sleeve, brushing away this strange Daoist’s hand, and turned into the gate crack.
“Ah!” The Daoist was startled, but not by the child’s attitude—rather because he finally saw the child’s appearance clearly.
Face reading was the Daoist’s specialty skill. Standing there, not minding that the courtyard gate was tightly closed, he directly raised his left hand to calculate with his fingers. After a moment, he smiled and murmured, “You and I have master-disciple fate. Today is already late; I shall return tomorrow for a formal visit.” Then he brushed the dust from his clothes and departed gracefully.
After a long while, from the tightly closed gate crack came a faint childish whisper.
“Fate? Ridiculous.”