The young officials in the capital — especially those under thirty — many had entered the civil service through the hereditary privilege of their fathers or grandfathers. When official positions came easily, some were determined to prove that they deserved it, that they truly had ability; others were precisely the opposite, feeling that life was too easy and could be squandered at will.
When there were too many pleasure-seekers, there was more to criticize, and the capital’s young dandies had long grown accustomed to being scolded.
Whenever a significant incident occurred, even in the most chaotic times in the capital, there was no shortage of critics. Many men whose own sons were disappointing would curse the whole lot of the capital’s idle rich, then petition for these youngsters to be given a lesson. Sometimes the higher-ups would intervene and impose some discipline; sometimes they’d just scold the troublemakers’ fathers and brothers and have them each take their own back home for a beating.
Similar things happened every so often. When Li Ze submitted this memorial, it did not generate much discussion. Two people, out of habit, echoed the sentiment for a moment, and then that was the end of it.
This memorial happened to come at year’s end, when everyone was busy with the new year. Custom also held that one didn’t punish children over a holiday. The matter was thus set aside, and everyone assumed it was yet another routine display. They went about celebrating the new year as usual.
This was Zhù Ying’s second new year in her own house. She was considerably more prosperous this year than last — her landholdings had grown by several dozen more acres, pushing her estate past one hundred. Aside from servants still numbering only two, everything was in proper order, the household of a young official well on her way to prosperity.
She arranged for Su Kuang to stand the New Year’s Eve night watch, and didn’t forget to reserve a New Year’s Eve banquet for him, also telling him: “The night is long, and none of us can be with our families. You invite them all together — it will be a chance to get acquainted.”
Su Kuang hadn’t expected her to say this. He looked at her in surprise, then quickly grasped the implication. He expressed his thanks, and finally said, “With Lord Zheng’s promotion, the Court of Judicial Review now… belongs to Lord Pei. We…”
Zhù Ying said, “We have to handle our duties well before we can speak of anything else, don’t we? For you, first get through the New Year’s Eve watch. Then there’s going together to pay New Year’s calls at Lord Pei’s home.”
“Yes…” Su Kuang’s heart was still somewhat unsettled. The idea of throwing himself completely under Pei Qing’s wing made him hesitant. Plotting to follow Zheng Xi seemed to present enormous difficulties.
Zhù Ying gave him a pat on the shoulder and slowly walked out of the Court of Judicial Review.
This year was different from previous years. Both Pei Qing and Leng Yun had to be visited, and the gifts could not show any difference in quality between them; yet since Pei Qing was also the acting head of the Court of Judicial Review, some distinction needed to be made there too. And then there was Zheng Xi — she would have to devise a pretext of “farewell” to use public funds to give him another generous gift.
Zhù Ying was calculating in her head: if Zheng Xi couldn’t transfer her away in the short term, by the next festival she would have no grounds to use public funds to send him a substantial gift.
She left the imperial city. Throughout the capital, the new year atmosphere was already quite festive. Zhù Ying mounted her horse and said to Cao Chang, “Not going home for the new year?”
Cao Chang shook his head. “I went back last year — and it was Jin Liang who sent people to deliver the New Year’s calling card to our family. This year I can’t let the family look so shabby again. I need to go and deliver cards myself.”
“That’s nonsense. Isn’t the whole reason you came out to work to give the family a better life? If you can’t even go back to spend the new year with them, how is that good?”
Cao Chang said, “I discussed it with my cousin. This year we’ll bring my parents into the city to spend the new year with me — they’ll stay at my uncle’s place.”
Zhù Ying considered this for a moment and said, “That works.” She went home and had Huajie find a set of new year goods to give Cao Chang to bring to his parents.
Zhù Ying had quite a good new year. Pei Qing was temporarily heading the Court of Judicial Review and couldn’t easily find someone suitable to replace Zhù Ying. Before Zheng Xi left, he had made things clear to Pei Qing — he still hoped to keep the Court of Judicial Review in his own hands, and most of the positions later filled at the Court had been Pei Qing’s doing. Ever since Zhù Ying had entered the Court of Judicial Review, Pei Qing had greatly admired her abilities. Even though she had been brought in by Zheng Xi, once she joined the Court, Pei Qing was also her superior, and they had a bond of shared history.
The new immediate superior wasn’t making things difficult for her, and the old superior had made his promises. Zhù Ying paid her new year visits to both, navigating with ease.
Little did she expect that as soon as the new year holiday ended, Wang Yunhe submitted a memorial stating that Li Ze had a point. The court could not neglect the cultivation of young officials. Young officials in the capital should be given practical experience before they could truly serve the state.
Chen Luan unexpectedly concurred, saying Wang Yunhe had made a valid argument. Even Shi Kun, who was ordinarily reluctant to see major changes, “seconded the motion.”
Pei Qing and the others returned from court and dispersed. Zhù Ying went to report to Pei Qing and Leng Yun and seek their guidance. Since Pei Qing was only acting, whenever this happened he invariably had Leng Yun listen to the reports as well. The Court of Judicial Review had nothing unusual to report. Leng Yun waited out Zhù Ying’s report, and when Pei Qing asked if he had any additions, Leng Yun said, “Nothing, nothing — all quiet.”
Pei Qing kept Zhù Ying behind and asked, “Has Seventh mentioned anything?”
Zhù Ying said, “I’m not sure what Your Excellency is referring to.”
Pei Qing relayed what had happened in court. Zhù Ying also felt something was off. “Just Lord Li’s memorial alone would be ordinary enough. For the Council of State to raise the matter again suggests something more to it. It doesn’t seem to be merely about a few idle young dandies.”
Pei Qing nodded. “My thoughts exactly.” He looked Zhù Ying up and down. “It probably won’t include you, but…”
Zhù Ying’s heart gave a jump. She would actually be glad to be on the list! Wang Yunhe had told her several times that he felt she should genuinely serve as a local official governing the people. But there were things that couldn’t be said outright. She said, “Whoever is on the list — now that the Council of State has set its mind to it, how many people will be sent out? By what method? To what places, for what duties, through what kind of experience, and how would they come back — all of this should have follow-up. It won’t be a matter of suddenly driving everyone out at once. There should be some word about it in the next few days, I’d think.”
Pei Qing said, “My thoughts exactly. Though this matter has come up, there will still be discussion in the days ahead. Those at the Court of Judicial Review must not panic or lose their heads — no overreacting.” The personnel at the Court over these past few years, while not under his direct charge, had been developed under him, and he had a measure of concern for them.
Zhù Ying said, “Yes. The Lantern Festival is coming up — distribute another round of funds, let everyone enjoy themselves, and it will be easy to forget whatever’s troubling them.”
Pei Qing laughed. “Only you would come out with something like that — and only you could actually carry it through.” Now that he was temporarily heading the Court of Judicial Review, he was beginning to understand how comfortable Zheng Xi’s years there had been. Truly, not a care in the world.
Zhù Ying said, “With your approval, this official will go arrange it.”
“Go.”
Zhù Ying distributed the funds, and that very same day, outside the palace gates, she received word from Gan Ze — Zheng Xi wanted to see her.
Zhù Ying ended her work day without going home first, and brought Cao Chang with her to the Zheng residence, going directly into Zheng Xi’s study.
Zheng Xi’s face betrayed no emotion. He said, “Sit.”
Zhù Ying sat down and asked, “Something weighing on you?”
Zheng Xi said, “You.”
“Hmm?”
Zheng Xi said, “The Council of State has made up its mind to select young people from the capital and send them to various places for practical experience.”
“Does it concern me? Am I on the list?” Zhù Ying said. “This…”
Zheng Xi had not been idle through the entire new year. He had sounded out both the Emperor’s and the Crown Prince’s views. The wretched soul he despised was his own imperial uncle — nephew and uncle, they had done exactly the same thing. Setting aside those favored by the Emperor and Crown Prince, he had already identified an unlucky candidate he planned to use this opportunity of the Council of State’s external posting to promote by half a rank and politely see out of the capital. After that, he could transfer Zhù Ying to the Eastern Palace.
But when he raised the matter tentatively with the Council of State to communicate his intentions in advance, Shi Kun said, “This person has just taken up a new post — it would not be appropriate to move her again.” Chen Luan, who had some teacher-student relationship with Zheng Xi, added a word for him: “The list is more or less finalized.”
Zheng Xi pressed further, asking whether the Eastern Palace’s subordinate officials would have any transfers, so he could prepare accordingly. Handling the affairs of the Eastern Palace would require arranging various matters. With Princess Yongping’s marriage approaching and the Crown Prince personally escorting his sister, there would be things to arrange in the Chamberlain’s Office. If there happened to be a shortage of staff at that time, things might be delayed.
Chen Luan smiled and said, “Don’t worry — the Eastern Palace’s people will remain undisturbed for now. Oh, but some of your former staff will be moved.”
Zheng Xi continued to ask, and Chen Luan said, “There’s no harm in telling you — you also know the rules.”
The rule was: I can notify you in advance, but don’t try to outmaneuver the Council of State and change the outcome. The teacher trusts you — if you betray that trust, watch out for what the teacher might do to you.
Chen Luan generously told Zheng Xi Zhù Ying’s name. Zheng Xi, before these three old foxes, was still a young man — this time all three elders had gotten the better of him. He couldn’t disagree in front of them, only asked: “Why?”
Chen Luan said, “Why not?” His tone left no room for discussion.
Zheng Xi tried to negotiate through a roundabout approach, and Wang Yunhe reminded him: “What you should be doing now is guarding the Eastern Palace well.”
Zheng Xi returned in defeat, and that very day summoned Zhù Ying. “What do you think?”
Zhù Ying asked, “And your thoughts?”
Zheng Xi’s expression was somber. “I am asking you.”
Zhù Ying said, “Why is the Council of State doing this? Without knowing the reason, I’ll simply wait for the Board of Personnel’s official notice. Three chancellors — without understanding their intentions, I can’t hold my ground against them for a while.”
Zheng Xi’s mood was one of shame and resentment. He had already promised to transfer Zhù Ying to the Eastern Palace, and now the matter was being intercepted halfway! He was deeply displeased. He said, “Whether this goes through or not, I will arrange for you to have a chance to meet the Eastern Palace. You must be prepared on your own end.”
Zhù Ying said, “You’ve only just become Grand Chamberlain…”
“Never mind that. This is actually a good opportunity.”
“Yes.”
When Zhù Ying came out of the Zheng residence, she was not as confused as she had seemed before Zheng Xi. Wang Yunhe was a man of complete integrity and a Chancellor with the willpower to act. What he had in mind, he would inevitably find ways to carry out. When he was Jingzhao Prefect, he had submitted memorials because of the Cao case, supplementing the enforcement of the law. Now that he had become Chancellor, it would have been stranger if he hadn’t taken action.
Zhù Ying was in very good spirits!
She absolutely wanted to be sent to a post outside the capital.
On the way home, she kept her expression controlled. It wasn’t until she was home and had finished eating dinner and sat down in her study that she finally let herself laugh out loud.
It wasn’t yet past the first month, and the weather was still a little cold. Zhang Xiangu came to check whether her tea was warm enough. Seeing her laughing, she said, “What are you thinking about, this child? Hey, why have you taken off your shoulder wrap?”
Zhù Ying had injured her shoulder and leg before, and Huajie had made her a shoulder wrap. Zhang Xiangu insisted that Zhù Ying wore it whenever it was cold, and that she also wore thick clothing on her legs, and that when sitting she absolutely had to be covered with a felt blanket on her lap.
Zhù Ying saw Zhang Xiangu and swallowed a laugh. But she bit back the urge to tell her. Following Zhang Xiangu’s instructions, she dressed appropriately, managed to get through Zhang Xiangu’s attention, and then Zhù Ying began to draft plans in her head. She was glad to leave the capital — but she still needed to write a petition. Then there were arrangements for the family. She had lived here for over a year and had only just begun to feel some attachment to the house — and now she was leaving, and found herself unexpectedly reluctant…
The house, the fields — not that many, fortunately.
The important thing was how to arrange matters at the Court of Judicial Review — especially the women’s detention ward.
Zhù Ying thought through things one by one. Oh, and there were also her informants in the capital.
If she was going to leave for an outside post, she would also need to recruit servants. Going to an unfamiliar place, how could she manage without a few of her own people? Huajie… she actually very much needed Huajie to come along, but Huajie always had her own ideas. She had turned down the chance to be a female court officer in order to study medicine with full concentration — one couldn’t forcibly change her life’s direction just because of herself. As for her parents, it would be better for them to come with her…
Zhù Ying sorted through things for half the night, getting a rough picture in her head before going back to her room to sleep.
The news she had hidden in her heart, not yet mentioned to her parents or Huajie, had already begun circulating in the capital just two days later — the Council of State had ordered the Board of Personnel to survey the situation of officials in every prefecture and county across the realm and report back, and also to survey and report back on the situation of young officials in every bureau and office in the capital.
The Board of Personnel was thrown into frantic activity. Even someone who had everything under control in their head would be hard-pressed to produce such a comprehensive list under a tight deadline.
While the Board of Personnel was busy, Wang Yunhe publicly submitted a memorial in court, making the situation perfectly clear: the business of sending young officials out of the capital was almost certainly going to happen.
For a time, the entire capital stirred with restlessness.
Going out of the capital was not entirely a bad thing. Many people actually hoped to obtain an outside assignment in order to enrich their family’s finances. Some people had both money and power but felt drawn to a particular region and wanted to spend some time there. Others felt unable to achieve their ambitions in the capital and were willing to go somewhere local to spread their wings. Having a record of local service in one’s career could also be beneficial for future promotion. In the capital, a sixth rank, senior grade was nothing remarkable; but outside the capital, this could mean being the principal official of a county, with the entire county answering to you.
A sixth rank, senior grade like Zhù Ying had done reasonably well at the Court of Judicial Review. With the support of her superior, she could oversee a couple of hundred people at most, and still had to act as the general caretaker. Outside the capital, in a large county — one with more than ten thousand households — the county magistrate would hold a sixth rank, senior grade position. Compared to being in the capital, the difference in status was entirely different.
Some people’s minds began to race with possibilities.
Going outside the capital was also not entirely a good thing. In unfamiliar territory, being deceived, outmaneuvered, made a fool of, or suppressed by local powerful families was not unheard of. Furthermore, most places were less prosperous and comfortable than the capital. Besides, if a locality had produced a notable figure, it was easy for the county magistrate to be treated as an inferior. Then there were the issues of unfamiliar climate, declining population, natural disasters, insufficient tax revenues, bandits… Those of lower rank had to bow and scrape before any high official who passed through, with prefectural officials above them as well. Those with bad luck, assigned to the borderlands, faced even more excitement. The unlucky soul who left the capital and ended up far from the Son of Heaven and the court, forgotten by everyone — that was likely to be the sum total of their life. Being close to the well is the first to draw water; being far away, that advantage simply didn’t exist.
Some people would die before leaving the capital, frantically scheming for ways to avoid it.
The matter’s reach was so extensive that even when Zhù Ying returned home, Zhù Da was asking about it: “Is the court actually serious about this?”
Zhù Ying said, “What serious or not serious?”
Zhù Da said, “I’ve heard about it! Look, it says so right here.”
He and Zhang Xiangu had been learning to read with Huajie. Zhang Xiangu focused on commonly used characters and accounting. Zhù Da, after recognizing a few characters, began reading the official gazette, sometimes unable to understand a passage and resorting to reading partial characters and guessing wildly. Zhù Ying had never known that an old man with barely a bottle’s worth of learning could take such enormous interest in grandstanding about state affairs.
Zhù Da held forth confidently: “When Chancellor Wang moves, things will happen. Look — if he assigns that certain person to the northeast, and that other one to the northwest…” He seemed more informed about this than the Council of State itself.
Zhù Ying said, “The edicts haven’t come down yet — don’t go around talking about it. If a censor hears you, you’ll be impeached for ‘recklessly discussing major policies.'”
“People still get impeached for that?”
Zhù Ying said, “Yes. Things you shouldn’t discuss, you don’t discuss. Things you shouldn’t interfere with, you don’t interfere with. Discuss them, or interfere, and you can still be held accountable. Among the followers of Gong the Traitor, some were given exactly this charge.”
Zhù Da stared blankly. “So officials have even less freedom than common people?”
“Well… common people are even less able to speak recklessly, but there are so many of them that they’re harder to manage. If you really run afoul of the blade, it’s worse for them than for officials.” Zhù Ying said.
Zhù Da fell quiet.
With Zhù Da no longer holding forth, it came to the second month of the new year. The Board of Personnel submitted two lists to the Council of State. Zhù Ying was also looking for suitable servants. For a long journey, she planned to bring books, bedding, and the like — which meant she needed a driver. On arriving in an unfamiliar place, she would also need sturdy servants. She was also thinking about having a few people with some martial skill — for this she might borrow from the Marquis’s household, or ask Wen Yue for help.
While she was busy with all this on one end, another memorial stirred debate throughout the court — the eldest son of Li Ze, the man who started all this, Li Yanqing, submitted a memorial stating his own desire to go to a remote, lower-tier county in order to serve the local people.
Li Yanqing had come out of mourning even earlier than his father. By the time Li Cang’s case was transferred to the Court of Judicial Review, Li Cang had already been dead for quite some time. Li Yanqing’s father and uncles were all still in mourning. Li Yanqing could not get past his own heart’s turmoil and had been hovering between the desire to die and falling into sickness. Even if he were given an official position, Li Ze feared he would make some mistake.
Not until Li Ze himself came out of mourning did he first arrange a quiet, undemanding minor post for his son, then bring him to the capital to keep under his own eye and slowly guide him. To post him anywhere else — as father and son could not serve in the same place — Li Ze would have no way to arrange things for his son. The capital was ideal: with so many official positions, as long as they were not in the same office, there wasn’t too much need to avoid it.
Li Ze had already planned it out. The position he had his eye on was not Zhù Ying’s post, but rather a vacancy in the Board of Rites elsewhere.
He had been worried at first that Duan Lin’s scheme might not work, that Zheng Xi would have some counter-move, but instead Wang Yunhe took it up! The Council of State had actually come over to his side. Although his son was also technically a “young official,” his son was well-behaved, caused no trouble, and hadn’t been involved in the recent brawling incident — so he probably wouldn’t be sent out.
While the father was busy counting his coins, his son set off a thunderclap: “I’ll go.”
By the time Li Ze found out, Li Yanqing’s memorial had already been submitted. The father had come up with the idea of sending young officials out of the capital; the son followed up with a memorial requesting to be sent himself. Naturally, Li Yanqing’s superiors assumed this was Li Ze’s plan, didn’t think twice about it, and let Li Yanqing submit the memorial without interference. Zhong Yi was the head of the Board of Rites — Li Yanqing’s matter was too small to concern him, so he didn’t intervene either.
Li Yanqing’s name was not originally on the Council of State’s list.
Chen Luan said in surprise, “He’s got some fire in him.”
Shi Kun said, “What — isn’t this his father’s arrangement?”
Chen Luan shook his head. “This boy is rather stubborn. He’s always felt it was wrong for his grandfather to take a new wife. Dug his heels in.”
Shi Kun said, “At least he knows what shame is.”
“He’s just a bit of an obsessive. I hadn’t put him on the list — wanted him to settle down nicely in the capital. I didn’t expect him to have this kind of ambition.”
Shi Kun said, “Then add him in.”
Wang Yunhe said, “Find him a suitable place.”
Chen Luan pointed to Li Yanqing’s name. “Let the transfer orders begin with him!”
The three men shared a knowing smile, a moment of mutual appreciation between kindred spirits.
The place the three of them chose for Li Yanqing was neither good nor bad, neither close to the capital nor far, and had no connection to any of the Li family’s friends or acquaintances. It was entirely the sort of county an ordinary person with no connections, who had spent a fortune on gifts at the Board of Personnel to get a post, might reasonably end up in. The county was not prosperous — a middle-tier county, with fewer than ten thousand registered households.
By any measure, it didn’t look like something a doting father had mapped out.
Many people were baffled: was this really not Li Ze’s plan?
What outsiders didn’t know was that from the moment Wang Yunhe first spoke up, this matter had ceased to be Li Ze’s scheme or anyone else’s conspiracy — it had already become the Council of State’s affair.
The three members of the Council each had their own considerations and their own circle of close associates. Having reached the level of Chancellor, beyond placing their own people, cultivating students, and elevating those they found congenial, all three had something of a public spirit and a broader vision for the state.
When Li Ze raised the matter, Wang Yunhe was first to be moved at heart. He subtly indicated to the other two: “The capital is getting a little turbulent. Young people who don’t know any better — better not have them staying in the capital at a time like this, in case they get caught up in something in a moment of hotheadedness and make a mistake.”
The other two understood exactly what he was saying: the Emperor was getting on in years, the Crown Prince was already an adult, and the various princes were also gradually growing up. The forces at court were the same way — the older generation was slowly declining, while the new generation was rising. Signs of this had long been present. The downfall of Gong Jie was not the conclusion of one affair but the signal marking a beginning. The rekindling of the old enmity between the Duan and Zheng families, entertaining as it appeared from the outside, was merely one part of a sweeping wave of turbulent transitions.
At a time like this, having young people with potential and ability burning away in the capital — where one misstep in choosing sides could consign a talented person to a wasted life — was not something they wanted. They were Chancellors; they had their own desires for power, and their own ideals for the state and country. They were old now, and regardless of who would govern going forward, they did not want the current moment’s affairs to cause talented young people to never be employed again, leaving the country in the hands of people who happened to have backed the right faction, or simply mediocre people.
With each generation bringing its own talent, to fritter away a large cohort of people would be too heartbreaking.
Chen Luan said, “These old bones of ours have already reached the heights of officialdom. We ought to bear some sense of nurturing care for those coming up behind us.”
Shi Kun also, in a rare moment of clear expression, stated his view: “We must do this — and do it carefully! Let us discuss a thorough plan: what kind of people should go, and how they should serve. Sending them out is meant to temper them, not to harm them. Many young people who have left the capital have been done in by the experience.”
The Council of State had treated this as a serious matter from the very beginning — nothing to do with lazy dandies.
The three were all seasoned hands. They first defined a range: young officials under thirty who had some talent, and who would be worth their attention. Those without deep roots or powerful backers were ideal, though they were by no means limited by background or patronage. The underlying intention was also to protect those who had no choice but to align somewhat with one faction, and to prevent them from getting too deeply entangled.
Their ranks were generally not high — county magistrate was typical, though they could also serve as assistants to prefectural and state officials in specific areas. Most of them were not qualified to serve as a prefectural deputy, since the rank requirements weren’t high enough — even the Deputy Administrator of an upper prefecture required the fourth rank, upper grade. It mainly depended on each person’s strengths and record of service.
For those who had already shown some tendency — like Zhù Ying — Wang Yunhe wanted to choose a place where the immediate superior was not surnamed Duan.
Distance from the capital was not a major concern. Farther away was actually better: too close, like Xinfeng County, was barely different from being in the capital.
If in the long years to come these people found themselves with more kindred-spirited companions, and then fell into conflict with others again — that was no longer the responsibility of the current Chancellors.
Of course, the group being sent out also needed a few dandies mixed in, assigned to strict supervisors to get a taste of hardship. This also served a certain purpose of misdirection.
Finally, naturally, slipping a few young people they themselves had their eye on into the mix was altogether fitting and proper. Balancing public and private interests was a fine thing. With them in place, those they favored who achieved results could be called back to the capital and promoted, or assigned to a larger post — that would not be difficult.
The difference between exile and gilding: this was it.
Li Yanqing’s memorial had gone ahead first and claimed the spotlight. The pressure now fell on those whose names were on the list. A good opportunity to shine had been snatched away.
Zhù Ying had one extra matter to deal with that the others didn’t — managing the family at home.
Zhang Xiangu had blurted out that one question at the time, then managed to hold back all the rest until they were home before asking: “What on earth is going on? What’s this about leaving the capital? Where are you going?”
Zhù Ying turned the question around: “Mother — what if we left the capital, and didn’t stay in the city anymore?”
Zhang Xiangu said, “That’s a foolish thing to say — how would you go to your post?”
Zhù Ying said, “What if I was assigned to an office somewhere else?”
Zhang Xiangu hadn’t followed. “What? Not in the capital? You…” From the day Zhù Ying started as an official, she had always held a capital post. Leaving the capital was something Zhang Xiangu had never imagined. She stood there dumbfounded too, then looked around at the still-new house, taking in every piece of furniture, the many books in the study. She had nothing more to say.
Zhù Da and Huajie were both caught off guard. Huajie asked, “And the house?”
Zhù Da suddenly beamed with delight. “Oh, that’s actually wonderful! Far from the Son of Heaven!” He was still thinking about something, and lowered his voice conspiratorially: “Without needing to take leave — we can have a child!”
Huajie stared at him in alarm.
Zhù Ying said, “Stop causing trouble. I’m definitely going outside the capital.”
Zhang Xiangu, one part thinking about “grandchildren” and one part worrying about her daughter, said, “Outside the capital! Travel on the road is no easy thing. Where would we go? When would we be able to come back?” From the village she’d grown up in to here, not a single place had offered a better life than the capital. If they could come back, of course it would be better to come back.
Zhù Ying said, “I’d actually like to go somewhere far — the farther the better, and never come back. Think about it.” She reached up and rubbed her chin. Facial hair! Right now, though the matter had been glossed over, people who took one look at her smooth chin would easily start connecting things back to Duan Zhi and the assassination attempt, and from there to the Duan family…
It might not work as a cover indefinitely.
Zhù Ying said, “When Lord Zheng first said he’d bring me to the capital, first as a clerk and then as an official — I didn’t think about any of that. I just had one thing in my mind: I wanted to live like a proper person, and so I came. I hadn’t grown up yet at that time. But now — think about it. Never mind anything else. If they just locked me up for half a month, we’d all be going out of our minds. If I were locked up for a full month, I’d have no choice but to fight my way out or escape.”
The last time her accounts had been audited, she’d only been asked to recuse herself to avoid any appearance of conflict. But if someone set her up to be locked up — even if she was eventually cleared as innocent, one month inside and everything about her would be exposed.
So she wanted to leave. The farther the better.
She thought about these things every single day, but couldn’t let anything show. It was genuinely exhausting. If she left the capital, none of this would be an issue. Governing a territory on her own — who could manage her? Even if she was eventually recalled to the capital, she would first accumulate enough years in a local post, build up accomplishments, and return via promotion.
The higher the rank, the fewer people could touch her, and the lower the probability of being locked up.
Even if Li Ze hadn’t submitted this memorial, she herself had been thinking about submitting one.
All three at home heard this and nodded. Huajie said, “Just right — we’ll all go together. But, where are you going?”
Zhù Ying said, “You want to come too?”
Zhang Xiangu said, “We’re a family — how can we not go together? We all go! It’ll provide cover too. Otherwise you’d be in a place full of strangers — do you want me to worry myself to death?”
Zhù Da also said, “That’s right!”
Zhù Ying said, “Then I’ll go find Chancellor Wang and ask for somewhere far. Only — if it’s too far, it will be hard going, and I worry…”
Zhang Xiangu said, “Could it be worse than Zhu Family Village?”
“Well — not that bad.” A remote posting might be harsh, but the governing official’s family would certainly live the best lives in the area. In any place, the very top stratum of people would never live too badly.
Huajie asked, “Where do you want to go?”
Zhù Ying said, “I’m not setting the location myself — I don’t know which of these places might be better. Look, the places with fewer cases at the Court of Judicial Review — does that mean they have fewer major incidents? Does it mean the people are honest and there are fewer bad actors? Not necessarily. It might mean that the population is sparse and homicides simply go undetected. Or it might mean human life isn’t valued there, and things don’t get reported. So I’m not choosing the location myself. Just somewhere far — I’ll leave the rest to Chancellor Wang.”
Huajie asked, “And what about Lord Zheng’s side?”
Zhù Ying said, “He can’t foresee or arrange everything, either — and I can’t hold all my strings with him. He’s not happy about it, but he can’t fight the Council of State.”
Zhù Ying went first to the Zheng residence and told Zheng Xi of her intentions.
Zheng Xi had already chosen a place for her in his mind — neither too near nor too far, with Zheng family connections in the vicinity, good road access, and the immediate superior being an old friend of Prince Zheng’s. All that remained was to go and speak to Chen Luan about it.
Hearing Zhù Ying say this, Zheng Xi’s expression darkened. “Do you know what you’re saying?”
Zhù Ying said, “I understand. I want to leave — the farther the better.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“Wherever it is, I can’t be certain. Wherever you’d want to kick Duan Ying — that far. I’m not saying we’ll go to the same place; perhaps we’ll each go our separate ways. But I can live more roughly than he can — I’m not as fastidious as he is.”
Zheng Xi still had a stony expression.
Zhù Ying said, “The Eastern Palace smiled very suggestively that day. Even just to make sure they don’t see through our strategy, we have to change our approach.”
“What kind of thing is Duan Ying, to be compared to you?” Zheng Xi said.
Zhù Ying said, “I’m the one who can’t compare to him. He has everything to show for himself, and my background alone already falls far short. Walking the same path as them, I can never catch up. Where I lack, I have to make it up elsewhere — I have to find a different way. If my background and reputation aren’t sufficient, I need to build some solid accomplishments to compensate, otherwise there will always be a gap, and at a critical moment it’s easy for things to fall short at the last step.”
Zheng Xi still hesitated, and gave a dismissive grunt. “Wang Yunhe might not be willing to let you go that far.”
Zhù Ying said, “His own sons and grandchildren are all away in distant posts — who else is he likely to spare? I’m volunteering myself. The Council of State won’t put up too much resistance. If I let myself have it easy now, I’m afraid of winning small advantages at the cost of big losses.”
Zheng Xi said listlessly, “Go, then.”
“I won’t do anything to embarrass you.”
First she persuaded Zheng Xi, then she went to Wang Yunhe’s residence, where she found Liu Songnian also present. Liu Songnian had been invited by Wang Yunhe to look over the list. Neither man avoided Zhù Ying’s presence. On seeing her, Liu Songnian deliberately asked, “What are you here for?”
Zhù Ying had come empty-handed but was clearly there to ask a favor. She said, “Chancellor, I hear I am to be reassigned.”
“Hmm?”
“I accompanied my mother to the Ci’en Temple to burn incense and happened to encounter the Eastern Palace. He asked about it.”
Liu Songnian rolled his eyes and gave a cold laugh.
Wang Yunhe said, “Good.”
Zhù Ying said, “Then I request a remote assignment — the farther the better.”
The two men exchanged a glance. Wang Yunhe asked, “Why?”
Zhù Ying said, “My mother, these days, only keeps company with a few people she knows well and trusts. In truth, before, she put in a great effort to socialize for my sake, but she earned herself the reputation of being ‘sharp-tongued.'”
Wang Yunhe frowned. “That has nothing to do with the capital being bad.”
Zhù Ying waved a hand. “I’m not saying anything against the capital. There’s a reason for this. The women were gathered together, talking about a young girl who was good at running a household. Due to poverty, the family had only one large fish, yet needed to host a dinner. So she made three dishes from the one fish: the head simmered in soup, the tail braised in red sauce, the flesh made into sweet-and-sour. My mother said: ‘And that counts as a poor girl being clever with the household?’ The others then called her sharp-tongued.”
Liu Songnian said, “What are you actually trying to say?”
Zhù Ying said, “First: truly poor people don’t have a fish that large, nor that much firewood. The pond belongs to someone else’s family, the mountain and forest belong to someone else — you can’t go gathering wood or fishing freely. If you’re caught, you have to return what you took and then get beaten on top of that. Second: poor people rarely use even salt, let alone oil, sugar, and vinegar. Anyone who has those things at hand has merely had a temporary shortage of cash — they are absolutely not poor, simply short of ready funds. My family — we were truly poor.”
Both Liu Songnian and Wang Yunhe looked at her with grave attention.
Zhù Ying said, “Chancellor, I want to go and see this land of ours. Different experiences lead to different perspectives, and different perspectives shape different people. The people who said that about my mother may not have been bad-hearted — they simply didn’t know that ‘if they have no bread, why don’t they eat cake?’ Many people want to go to prosperous places, calling it ‘holding the vital ground.’ As long as those places are functioning, the court can limp along. But I want to go to these fringes, these seemingly unimportant places — because only when those places are in proper order can the world truly be called a time of great flourishing. The country’s foundation should not rest on prosperous regions, but on those remote rural corners. Even if my abilities are limited, I’d still like to try.”
Liu Songnian stood up straight and straightened his garments. Wang Yunhe lowered his head and thought for a moment, then said, “There is actually one place. Quite far.”
“I’ll go.”
Wang Yunhe had originally selected a place for Zhù Ying that, while without any particular advantages, at least kept her far from Zheng Xi’s enemies, with reasonably safe roads. Now, if the requirement was a place that was far and whose immediate superior was not surnamed Duan, that meant heading south — what was known as the miasma-laden lands. Of course there were advantages: because the environment was harsh, her future immediate superior had already died of illness, and there was currently only a frequently-ill deputy holding things together. This effectively meant she would have no proper supervisor managing her.
Zhù Ying herself had come to the capital from the south. Going to this place would simply mean heading somewhat further south than her hometown — far more suitable for her than going north.
This place was starting from a very low baseline. It was like a child who had scored zero on an exam — all it took was getting one question right to be a breakthrough from zero.
But Zheng Xi nearly leapt to his feet!
“Do you know how far that is?! Do you know what two thousand seven hundred li means?”
Zhù Ying said, “Well, it means criminals given a light enough sentence won’t be sent my way.”
Zheng Xi gave a cold snort. “So you know!”
Zhù Ying laughed. “Then you all think of a way to make sure whoever should be sent to me does get sent to me.”
Wen Yue, an even-tempered and mild-mannered man, also said, “What a gift to the Duan family!” Duan Ying had yet to obtain any official position, and seemed to be waiting to pick up whatever fell from the tree. When all the outstanding young people left, Duan Ying would stand out — a clear path to rapid advancement.
No wonder Wen Yue was angry.
Zhù Ying said, “The Council of State’s advantages are not so easily snatched.”
This prediction was quickly borne out.
The one who moved was not the Council of State, but Liu Songnian. Zhù Ying had once said that he must have failed to become a Chancellor because of his sharp tongue — a statement not entirely on target but not far off.
This gentleman, within a couple of days, openly asked Duan Ying at a public poetry gathering: “All the young people are going off to temper themselves — and you? Staying in the capital as a decorative plant?”
Someone tried to smooth things over: “Well… it may be too late at this point, mightn’t it? Nearby postings are filled, and any farther would be overly remote. Hardly suitable for a man of Duan Ying’s caliber.”
Duan Ying said, “I’ll go.”
The Council of State also added a posting for him — far enough, remote enough from the Duan family’s sphere of influence, and the specific location was chosen personally by Shi Kun.
Shi Kun said, “We’ve done everything we can. From here, it’s up to them. There’s no such thing as a perfect outcome in this world — they may not all become pillars of the state in the end, but we have done our best.”