Spring plowing was over, and Zhù Ying still had a great many things to do.
The first was to return the draft animals. Many of the oxen and horses she had were on loan from Old Chieftain of the Asu clan, agreed at the time as a rental, and now she had to return them and retrieve the deposit.
The second: the Southern Prefecture had forwarded a notice saying that there were places available at the prefectural academy, and if Fulü County had promising students, they could be sent to the prefectural academy for training. At that time, places at official schools were limited, and the prefectural academy didn’t allocate a set number of slots to each county; instead, it held one unified examination and accepted the top scorers. This was a significant matter.
The third: the planning for the exile encampment had been completed, and construction needed to begin. If there were many exiled convicts, they could help build it themselves, but with only around twenty of them, each also holding some other duty, they couldn’t manage it alone. At least another hundred or so conscript laborers would need to be levied.
The fourth: the tangerines she’d been thinking about for a long time — she had to start on those now and couldn’t keep merely thinking about them.
Beyond these, there were already ongoing matters like the literacy stele project.
Zhù Ying took stock of everything on her plate. It was a tangle of a thousand threads and ten thousand loose ends. She couldn’t wait to finish one thing before starting the next — she needed to arrange her time well.
There was roughly enough stone for the exile encampment, so she issued orders to conscript another hundred people to go build housing on the outskirts of town. Since the convicts exiled to Fulü County were all serious criminals, housing them among ordinary residents wouldn’t be safe. And if a convict happened to be a disgraced official, they often arrived with their whole family in tow. The county seat was also small, so it had long been planned to situate the exile encampment on the outskirts — close enough for convenient use, but keeping them from disturbing public order inside the town.
There had been quite a few exiled convicts over the years, enough to give the old site the look of a small village or settlement. Zhù Ying assembled roughly a hundred people and ordered them to first clear away the debris from the old site, gathering up any materials still usable, to save the trouble of sourcing them again. Even so, it wasn’t enough — over the years, anything usable had been carted off by scavengers.
Zhù Ying used the same approach as with the stone carvers before, and levied some carpenters as well.
With the experience of conscripting stone carvers behind them, the yamen handled the second levy much more smoothly, and within a few days a sufficient number had arrived. First came the logging. The yamen held timber rights to certain hillsides, so the first task for the carpenters was to fell trees. Timber that could be used right away was used; where the work required seasoned wood, the freshly cut lumber was exchanged for planks that local gentry and merchants had in stock.
A different judicial officer was assigned, along with two yamen runners, to oversee the work. This project she could then set aside for the time being — she only needed to slip away from other business now and then to inspect progress, and finally to carry out the acceptance inspection.
With all of that arranged, Zhù Ying also summoned the local gentry to the county yamen.
The gentry were people who kept a close eye on money. Everyone said that farmland was the foundation of all wealth, but no one ever turned away from profit, and they assumed Zhù Ying was going to talk to them about the tangerine venture. The harvest was still some time away, but preliminary arrangements needed to be made — they couldn’t afford to be squabbling over shares at the last minute.
Each of the gentry came with their own calculations in mind, ready to put up a good fight for their cut. When Elder Gu and the others arrived at the county yamen and saw Zhao Su already there, they thought: cunning little wretch.
Zhao Su kept his face perfectly composed. He’d been summoned because his father, Zhao Feng, wasn’t in the county — he still lived in the western township, managing the family estate. As a student at the county school and as Zhù Ying’s adopted son, Zhao Su was living in the county seat to represent his father. Besides him, there were also a few young men in their twenties and thirties among those present, including two of Zhao Su’s classmates from the county school, all in similar situations — sent to the county seat by their families to serve as household representatives.
The assembly of old and young was complete. Zhù Ying came through from the back. They all bowed in greeting. In formal settings, Zhao Su addressed her as “my lord” rather than “foster father” — he was very careful about that.
Zhù Ying returned half a bow. “Please, no ceremony, everyone. Please, be seated.”
When they were all seated, she said, “I asked you all here today to conclude a matter from last time. Master Qi.”
Qi Tai produced an account ledger and said, “This county’s spring plowing season: among the draft animals furnished by the various households, there were three hundred and twenty-seven oxen and two hundred and thirteen horses in total. Calculating by day…”
The gentry were slightly disappointed and let out a small murmur of sound. So it was just to settle accounts for the livestock rental.
Spring plowing was done, and Zhù Ying had taken them out for a meal to discuss the tangerine matter — but at that time the rental payments for the draft animals hadn’t been fully tallied. Because the animals had been returned continuously in stages, some earlier and some later, and some tenant farmers still didn’t have cash or grain on hand to pay, that portion of the accounts remained unsettled.
Over the past few days, Zhù Ying had been occupied with other matters and had left Qi Tai and the yamen’s accountants to handle it. Now that it was finished, she needed to settle up with the gentry.
Zhù Ying said, “You all have your own running tallies. Let’s settle accounts with everyone now. Bring it in.”
A few yamen runners carried in money chests. Elder Gu and the others all said, “We trust my lord’s integrity in this — there is really no need for you to be personally involved. Even for us, we’d normally just send our bookkeepers to reconcile with Master Qi.”
Zhù Ying said seriously, “For future settlements, we’ll do it as you suggest. But this is the first time, and we should establish the precedent properly, so that afterward the staff below can follow this example, and if any discrepancies arise, we can all understand where the issue lies. And another thing — there are three forms of payment: coin, grain, and cloth, each converted at their going rate. I know grain prices are not constant, and coin itself also varies. From now on, our rental fees will all be calculated at current market prices — how does that sound?”
Official-minted copper coins were highly valued in this area. The idea that “coin varies in value” sounded strange at first — how can coin have different values? — but the same amount of money could buy very different things depending on where you were. In Fulü County, the same coins bought twice the rice that they would in the capital. Similarly, it was easier to earn money in the capital.
Officially minted copper coins were standard in size, made with proper materials, and accepted everywhere in the realm — they held their value. Privately minted thin, wafer-like cash came in all manner of irregular shapes, was shoddy in materials, and was frequently refused — it held little value.
She was not the sort of person to accept a bad deal. She would not allow anyone to profit from the discrepancy while dealing with her, so she set prices to market rate. While she said this was to ensure the gentry were not shortchanged, it also meant they couldn’t earn anything on the exchange rate.
What the gentry were thinking was: as long as the county yamen doesn’t skim another layer off the top.
When they used to deal with Administrator Guan, it had actually been easy enough to take small advantages from the county yamen’s official transactions — one just needed to give Guan and the other officials some gifts. Compared to the eventual gains, those gifts weren’t really a loss. Zhù Ying was shrewder than Guan, and so the gentry were now simply content as long as she didn’t take anything from them.
Fortunately, Zhù Ying was still relatively fair, and her dealings with them were generally honest and equitable.
Qi Tai went through the accounting with each household: one ox working one day equaled one rental unit; for each household, how many oxen, how many days — total rental units. Old or weak oxen that worked slowly were calculated at a discounted rate, either half a unit or eighty percent of a unit, depending. All of it was itemized.
Once the oxen were tallied, the same system was applied to the horses.
After that category, there were also the draft animals that had been injured during spring plowing — each injury recorded according to its severity, the cause of the injury, and who bore responsibility. If the tenant was responsible, the value was further discounted as compensation.
Subtracted from this was any amount already settled directly by tenants who had cash or grain on hand, leaving the amount the county yamen needed to advance on their behalf — and for this, each household was asked how they wished to receive payment: coin, grain, or cloth.
It looked complicated, but with clear organization, the whole thing was settled in half a day. For tenants who couldn’t pay yet, the county yamen would advance the amount on their behalf, and the repayment would be collected all at once after the autumn harvest. She would charge a modest amount of interest — just enough to prevent anyone from exploiting this benefit program and squeezing out those who genuinely needed help.
The last accounts to be settled were Zhao Su’s household and those from his mother’s family, arranged through Zhao Su’s uncle’s side. Since the original agreement had been framed as a rental — both parties using the framing as a way to maintain an opening for further dealings — the method of return still needed to be discussed. Elder Gu and the others settled their own rental fees but didn’t leave, wanting to catch a word of what was said.
Zhao Su sat calmly and settled accounts with Qi Tai. Having spent considerable time at the yamen, he knew Qi Tai’s character well — he greeted him politely and then got straight to business, no wasted words, settling the accounts cleanly. He thought for a moment. Just now, Elder Gu and the others had mostly chosen coin over grain — most likely they had the tangerine venture in mind. Business required capital. Although the local gentry had tangerine trees in abundance, Zhao Su was willing to wager they shared his own thinking: I can also buy up tangerines from individual farmers in the local area — and the profit margin would then be entirely mine.
Zhao Su said without the slightest hesitation, “I’ll take grain and cloth.”
Zhù Ying glanced at him, and he didn’t look away. Their eyes met. Zhù Ying said, “Write him a voucher.” Coin could be counted on the spot. But copper coins, as bulky as they were, were still smaller in volume than grain and cloth; this particular rental payment, converted into grain and cloth, was more than ten Zhao Suses could carry. Hence a voucher — he could take it to the storehouse to collect.
After Zhao Su received his voucher, all the county’s rental accounts were settled. Elder Gu and the others all said, “Today’s work is well and truly done!”
Zhù Ying said, “There’s one more matter. The animals rented from the mountain side need to be returned — so the deposit must be reclaimed.”
Elder Gu, Elder Zhao, Elder Zhang, and the other senior men all said in unison, “You must not!” This time they had no regard for young Zhao Su’s feelings. “Last time we nearly had an incident!” “A wise man does not stand beneath a precarious wall.” And more in that vein.
Zhù Ying said, “I understand that you gentlemen are concerned for me, but a person must keep their word. Since we agreed when the time came to return things in person, I cannot simply not go. This year, I must go in person — what comes afterward is another matter.”
Zhao Su stepped forward at the right moment. “I pledge my very life that my foster father will return safely!”
The declaration rang out with great force.
Zhù Ying said, “Is it really that serious? There’s no need for all this, gentlemen. Wait for me to come back, and then we’ll discuss the tangerine matter. I shared my thoughts last time — do any of you have objections?”
Elder Gu and the others all chose to trust her this time, and all said, “None.”
Zhù Ying said, “Then I’ll trouble you all to help the accountants put together a figure for me.”
Fruit trees in most regions were not considered a main crop. “Farming and sericulture first, farming and sericulture first” was the maxim — the priority was growing grain (primarily rice in this area) and weaving cloth. Some people grew hemp, and some raised silkworms. Most local officials, as soon as they took up such a post, knew to emphasize the importance of farming and sericulture, would order protection of farmland, and would take measures to prevent farmland from being excessively converted to other uses.
And because the imperial court’s performance evaluations included “promoting agriculture and sericulture” as a basic criterion, many areas took little interest in promoting the cultivation of fruit trees and the like, and the relevant statistics were consequently inaccurate.
Elder Gu and the others agreed with worried faces. Elder Gu then stood up and offered, “My elderly self still has a few strapping young men at home!” He also turned to Zhao Su. “It’s not that we don’t trust you, you understand — it’s just that your maternal uncle’s household has its own complications. We only want the county magistrate to come back safe and sound.” And at that, the gentry rallied to offer their support.
Zhao Su said stonily, “My family’s guards are better trained.”
Zhù Ying let them bicker for a bit, then extended both hands and pressed down gently in the air. The room fell quiet. “Don’t make a scene and alarm people. I’m not in any such danger.”
To Elder Gu and the others she said, “Get me the figures, and wait peacefully for my return.”
To Zhao Su she said, “Tell your father to be ready.”
And just like that, things in Fulü County were settled by Zhù Ying’s word alone.
Zhù Ying ordered the oxen and horses rented from Chieftain Asu to be rounded up, and while that was being done, she paid another visit to the county school.
She had barely stepped inside when the head teacher and the assistant instructor flanked her from both sides. They ushered her in, and only once inside the gate did they speak. “My lord, word is that you intend to brave danger once more and meet with the mountain peoples?”
Zhù Ying said, “Where did you hear that?”
“Are you saying you won’t go?”
“Meeting with the chieftain is not any sort of dangerous venture.”
At those words, both men looked as if the sky were falling. “You must not, you must not!” They advised her at length, much like Elder Gu and the others — all feeling it was too dangerous, not worth it, that Fulü County needed County Magistrate Zhù, and so on.
The head teacher and assistant instructor felt all this far more keenly than the gentry. The gentry still occasionally found themselves pressured by her; what the county school felt was nothing but unmixed benefit. Though these two men were entirely unremarkable scholars, they could recognize quality when they saw it. Whether the books from the Directorate of Education or the essays of Wang Yunhe, these were truly fine and rare things. She had also brought proper order to the county school, appropriated funds and grain for it, and shown care for impoverished students.
A county magistrate like this could not come to any harm!
The head teacher, seeing that persuasion was getting him nowhere, stopped walking and turned back. He pressed his body against the gate he’d just closed, arms spread wide like a man about to be drawn and quartered, wearing a look that said “step over my dead body.”
Zhù Ying said, “Shall we still go in and speak to the students? There’s important news.”
The head teacher was tricked into stepping into the lecture hall.
The students had all assembled. Some of those who had attended the rental settlement had already let slip the news that Zhù Ying was planning to visit the “mountain peoples” again in the western township. For the first time in recent memory, many students crowded around Zhao Su and asked, “Is it true? Is your family prepared?” and “Did you put her up to it?”
Zhao Su generally kept his classmates at an arm’s length. Even now, he offered a rare reply: “Who is capable of putting my foster father up to anything?”
The students were still worried.
Until Zhù Ying herself arrived.
Even the head teacher and assistant instructor couldn’t quiet their chattering. Zhù Ying said, “Quiet.” And they gradually fell silent.
Zhù Ying then announced the official notice the Southern Prefecture had sent her: “Study hard. The prefectural academy has vacancies. For those who wish to try for a place, I will personally escort you to the prefectural capital to sit the selection examination. Those interested report your names to the head teacher. When I return, you will sit a trial examination so we can get a sense of where you stand.”
These students generally sat for the regular examinations. The specialized legal studies examination that Zhù Ying had sat was also technically one of the regular examinations. But her circumstances had been different from any of theirs — her identity had been fabricated by Zheng Xi, and aside from the examination results themselves, nothing else about her candidacy had been legitimate. It was a different matter entirely and had to be considered separately.
Under normal circumstances, students in government schools at various levels were classified as “enrolled students.” Those who came through their own independent study and were nominated and recommended by local officials through various levels of local examinations were classified as “tribute scholars.” After selection they could be sent to the capital to participate in the final examination, and upon passing would wait to be assigned office. In theory, every prefecture and county could recommend candidates; in practice, there were attached conditions — namely, quota allocation.
Generally, larger places had more quotas, and officials of higher rank had more influence in selecting and recommending candidates with better prospects. By ordinary reckoning, the prefectural academy had better prospects.
The students grew a little restless. Seeing this, Zhù Ying took the opportunity to slip away. After the last time she’d suggested switching examination tracks and received not a single interested response, she had come to understand: the hearts of scholars truly were different from everyone else’s. Well then, let them choose for themselves. Whatever came of it, they couldn’t blame her.
Zhao Su didn’t join the discussion. He had already made up his mind. He went to find the head teacher to ask for leave, saying he intended to personally escort Zhù Ying on the journey. The head teacher looked at him with a displeased expression.
Zhao Su said, “My lord emerged from the last visit completely unscathed. I’m sure you’ve also heard of my lord’s deeds in the capital — trifles like this can’t trouble her. A cage cannot hold an eagle, and no one here can sway her will.”
The head teacher was worried and helpless, and sighed. “Go then. How many days’ leave do you need?”
“However many days until my lord returns, that is how many days I need.”
“In two more days there’s the ten-day examination — if you miss it, it goes on record.”
“Yes.”
Missing an examination without cause could result in a reprimand; too many missed examinations and a student could be expelled. Missing with cause would still affect one’s ranking and lead to a forfeiture of any reward. Neither of these concerned Zhao Su — he had a legitimate reason for missing, and he didn’t need the money.
He bade farewell to the head teacher and went to the county yamen to see Zhù Ying.
Zhù Ying was currently under siege from Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da. The two of them took turns, one line apiece — “What, packing up your bags again?” “Off to the western township?” “Are you trying to fly up to the sky?” “Oh dear, what are we going to do!” “You are not going.”
When Zhao Su arrived, Zhang Xiangu even blamed him, “Did he come to drag you off again?”
Zhù Ying didn’t answer. She used the moment to make her escape, and in the outer study she received Zhao Su.
Zhao Su was perfectly composed. He gave a deep bow and then straightened. Zhù Ying asked, “Something on your mind?”
Zhao Su said, “Foster father, your safety is the wellbeing of this entire county. The village elders were not wrong in saying so.”
“Mm?”
“And so I was thinking — if foster father agrees, I might persuade them to move the meeting to my home in the western township. What do you say?”
Zhù Ying said, “Is that your own idea, or your uncle’s meaning?”
Zhao Su said, “It is my own idea.”
“Changing the location for that reason alone would defeat the purpose. After I’ve met him, we might be able to discuss ‘the future’ — but not yet. Tell your father not to worry.”
“Yes.”
“Did you take leave from the county school?”
“Yes.” Zhao Su added, “It won’t affect my studies.”
Zhù Ying said, “This is also a good chance to go back and discuss things with your father — you can consider trying for the prefectural academy.”
Zhao Su said, “I don’t want to go to the prefectural academy. Being at my foster father’s side suits me better. I don’t know what the teachers at the prefectural academy are like, and I’ve grown accustomed to the county school. At the prefectural academy, I’d have to start all over again, and there likely won’t be any official there who asks about my mother’s clan. But here at the county school, my foster father notices me.”
Zhù Ying sighed. “Very well. Things will all improve with time.”
“Yes.”
Zhao Su went home and wrote to his father, informing him that Zhù Ying intended to personally make the trip to return the draft animals. Zhao Feng received the letter and was greatly startled. He said to Zhao Niangzi, “The county magistrate is coming in person.”
Zhao Niangzi said, “Now that’s what a capable person looks like! I love it! I’ll go tell my brother right away.”
Zhao Feng said, “A moment, please.”
“What?”
Zhao Feng said, “What if we proposed that they meet at our home? First, it would be safer. Second, my brother-in-law’s health isn’t what it was — he could come and rest at our place for a day or two first and recover his strength before meeting the county magistrate.”
Zhao Niangzi frowned. “Let me go and ask.”
She immediately went back to her natal family to see her brother. The Asu chieftain was, as Zhao Feng had said, looking noticeably more haggard than when he’d met with Zhù Ying — his hair and beard seemed whiter, and he had grown thinner.
Zhao Niangzi said, “The county magistrate from down the mountain is coming to personally return the draft animals and wants to meet you. Will you see her?”
“Of course.”
Zhao Niangzi said, “Then — what if you came to my place?”
“Did she ask for that?”
Under her brother’s scrutinizing gaze, Zhao Niangzi told the truth. “It was my husband’s idea. You could also come and rest at our place for a day or two.”
The chieftain waved a hand. “No need! Keep to the original plan! Just bring more people, and clear the road beforehand.”
“Hmm…”
The chieftain didn’t know that his nephew had once made the same suggestion to Zhù Ying, and Zhù Ying didn’t know that Zhao Feng had said the same thing to the chieftain. Yet the two of them had, with perfect tacit understanding, declined simultaneously.
When the news reached Zhù Ying she set out. The county seat was small, and a county magistrate departing with twenty or thirty people in her train was something many people noticed. Administrator Guan promptly relayed the news to Elder Gu.
When Zhù Ying and her party passed through the city gates, they found a dense crowd ahead. Elder Gu and his cohort led it, and behind them were young and able-bodied men.
Elder Gu stepped forward and clasped his hands in salute. “My lord, we are too old to be of use on the journey. But here are some men — take them with you.” He gestured behind him: each of the gentry families had contributed able-bodied men, all together two or three hundred of them, assembled to serve as her escort.
Zhù Ying said, “Don’t let people underestimate us. After last time, Chieftain Asu will be more cautious. This trip will be even safer than the last. Wait for me to come back!” She flatly refused to take them. Elder Gu and the others were half dead with worry but could only watch with pounding hearts as she departed.
The chieftain had his own calculations. Zhù Ying had her own intentions. Several days later, the two met again at the old spot. Hou Wu accompanied Zhù Ying; his blade remained drawn the entire time. Xiao Wu and the others were so tense they were beside themselves.
When Zhù Ying and the chieftain met, she gave a clasped-hand salute; the chieftain pressed his fists together in a return bow. Zhù Ying’s command of the Qixia language was passable, but she first greeted him in the official tongue, with the Zhao father and son translating.
Looking at Chieftain Asu, Zhù Ying could see that in just one spring plowing season he had aged considerably. Calculating his age, she could well believe that an injury at his years would sap one’s vitality more severely. She politely asked whether the chieftain had recovered from his injuries. Chieftain Asu replied, “The medicine you sent was very effective. I recovered quickly.”
Then came the matter of returning the draft animals and settling the rental accounts. For this part, Zhù Ying again spoke in the official tongue, with Zhao Su and his father translating, and said the same things she’d said to the gentry: first, her thanks; second, the accounting. The method of settlement was the same as well.
Having just settled his own family’s rental account, Zhao Su was familiar with the procedure and was able to explain it to his uncle clearly. Chieftain Asu said, “I’ll take grain.”
Zhù Ying said, “Agreed.”
It would be Zhao Feng who advanced the payment first; Zhù Ying would then issue a voucher that Zhao Feng could take to the county storehouse to collect, or he could use it as an offset against the autumn tax assessment. The voucher was no empty promise — by autumn, the government would indeed be levying taxes, and the grain collected had to be transported, with transport costs generally borne by the party submitting the grain. If Zhao Feng’s family wasn’t short on grain at present, using the voucher as an offset would actually be the more advantageous option.
With that matter concluded, Zhù Ying then switched to the Qixia language to exchange some ordinary conversation with Chieftain Asu, telling him that by now they were essentially family — his nephew was her adopted son.
The chieftain didn’t take offense. He looked at Zhao Su and said, “Because of us, this child has had a hard time of it.”
“Three rounds of bitterness,” Zhù Ying said. “Neither side treated him as one of their own. The ignorant ones cursed him as the enemy’s man, then piled on with more curses about who he is himself.”
Chieftain Asu said, “I raised my little sister myself. Her son living poorly grieves me too. All because we treated each other as enemies.”
Zhù Ying said, “That was wrong of the people before them — nothing to do with you.”
Chieftain Asu said, “When I was young, when I heard my father had been killed, I wanted to boil the man responsible in an iron pot for three days. I wanted to let his blood to offer to the sky. I wanted to press him forever beneath a mountain so his soul could never be released. Decades have passed, and I still hate — I still hate. But a person has to think of the children.”
Zhù Ying said, “A person who feels no love or hatred is a frightening thing.”
Chieftain Asu said, “When you said we should stop raiding each other, I was very glad. When you asked for oxen and horses, I didn’t refuse either.”
Zhù Ying tactfully asked, “Spring plowing is very important to me. Is there anything I can do for the chieftain in return?”
Chieftain Asu said, “Can we do other kinds of trade?”
Zhù Ying said, “What kind of trade? Isn’t the western township enough for your trading needs?”
Chieftain Asu said, “Mountain goods — whatever we have in the mountains, exchanged for salt, grain, and iron from down below. That kind of trade, these people down here can’t manage.”
Zhù Ying asked, “How much do you want?”
Chieftain Asu said, “The more the better, of course.”
Zhù Ying said, “That may not be workable. The court has restrictions on all three of those commodities — large-scale transactions aren’t permitted anywhere.”
“Which is exactly why I’m coming to you,” the chieftain said, his fatigue beginning to show. “We can start with a smaller amount — just like this time with the oxen and horses, and increase it later. As long as you’re willing, I’ll let Little Sister discuss the details with you.”
Zhù Ying didn’t beat around the bush. “Can she make all the decisions on your behalf? If not, there’s no need to discuss it.”
“She can.”
“Good.”
Zhù Ying’s side handed over the oxen and horses; the chieftain’s side left behind a daughter. Zhù Ying was to spend one night at Zhao Feng’s home before setting out back to the county seat. Zhao Niangzi, worried about her brother’s health, insisted he stay at her home for a day. The chieftain and Zhù Ying exchanged a glance and both agreed.
That night, Zhù Ying didn’t keep the chieftain talking for long. She could see his health didn’t suit extended conversation, and she went to rest on her own. From the moment they were back inside Zhao Feng’s estate, all the people who’d come along let out a collective breath of relief. No one accompanying her understood the Qixia language, so they hadn’t known at all what Zhù Ying and Chieftain Asu had discussed afterward, assuming it was just pleasantries. Everyone had been tense for a full day and went off to rest.
The chieftain and the Zhao family had no such restful evening.
“Little Sister” used the last remaining time to confirm with her father the limits of what she could agree to in the negotiations. Chieftain Asu was already exhausted. He said, “From now on, the entire settlement and the whole family is yours to manage. You decide.”
The Zhao family was discussing the prefectural academy. Zhao Su had already made his decision and told Zhù Ying he didn’t wish to go; he’d informed his parents of this when he returned home. Zhao Niangzi wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about the prefectural academy one way or the other, but Zhao Feng was in terrible agony over it, almost torn in two. “Oh — if he goes to the prefectural academy, I worry the county magistrate will take it the wrong way, but if he doesn’t go, I really can’t resign myself to it either.”
Zhao Su said, “I’m not going.”
“Think it over again? Can we persuade the county magistrate?”
Zhao Su said, “I’m not going. I can make a trip to the prefectural capital to broaden my experience — but I don’t necessarily want to get in, and they don’t necessarily want me either. The prefectural academy may not be the same quality as the county school. My foster father has tremendous connections; what’s taught at the prefectural academy might not be on his level. At the prefectural academy, people might not take me seriously. At the county school, my foster father wouldn’t overlook me.”
“Is that really so?”
Zhao Su said, “The lecture notes from my foster father’s classes at the county school were written by Chancellor Wang in the capital. Who at the prefectural academy can compare?”
“Is that true?!” Zhao Feng was deeply shaken. “Has connections in the capital” and “can obtain something handwritten by the Chancellor” were two entirely different things. Sending gifts and currying favor with people in the capital was one kind of connection with the capital. Being able to ask a Prime Minister for essays was a connection that implied one was at least half a disciple. Officials, though they liked to speak of “education,” were very particular about lineage and pedigree when it came to “scholarship.”
Zhao Feng’s mind was made up in an instant. “Very well! He stays in the county!”
Early the next morning, everyone was up very early. Chieftain Asu was in no hurry to head back, but Zhù Ying needed to return — she was afraid that if she stayed any longer, Elder Gu and the others might come riding out to retrieve her.
Chieftain Asu personally came to see his daughter off. On the main road outside the estate gate, he took his daughter’s hand and said, “Hold steady.”
“Yes.”
Then he solemnly introduced his daughter to Zhù Ying. “This is my youngest daughter.”
Zhù Ying asked, “What should I call her?”
“Little Sister.”
Zhù Ying said, “I was unclear — I meant, what name or title does she go by? Since she represents you in negotiations, when we formalize an agreement it must be done in her own name. There are so many ‘Little Sisters’ in the world — she needs something distinctive that is hers alone. Even a given name would do.”
“Little Sister” smiled very brightly. “I don’t have a name like you mountain-valley people down below. Why not give me one? I’m of the Asu family — in your writing it would be ‘Asu.’ I like the character ‘Su’ you mountain-valley people use — it has fish and grain in it. I’ll take Su as my family name.”
“And your given name?”
“Little Sister” fell silent for a moment, then said, “I thought of a few myself, but none of them felt quite right. Everyone says you’re capable — you give me one.”
She did actually have a name. Everyone called her Little Sister, but her name within the Asu family, when translated, meant “bird of many colors” — because before her mother gave birth to her, she’d dreamed of a five-colored bird calling out as it flew over the rooftop of their home. But out of a subtle private taboo, she didn’t say so.
Zhù Ying then asked Chieftain Asu, “Is it all right for me to choose a name like this?”
Chieftain Asu nodded. “You may.”
Zhù Ying’s scholarship was what it was, so she said, “Would ‘Yuan’ work?”
“What does it mean?” “Little Sister” knew some of the mountain-valley language and could read a little of its script, but was not fluent.
Zhù Ying said, “Beautiful. Worthy.” Fine lady of worth and beauty — but she didn’t like the words “worthy and gentle.” The character ‘Yuan’ on its own was enough.
“Little Sister” said, “…Su… Yuan?”
“Yes.”
Su Yuan smiled. “Good — then my name is Su Yuan.”
The name was settled. Su Yuan, now officially her father’s representative, set out with her own attendants and traveled the whole way back to the county seat alongside Zhù Ying.
All along the road, Su Yuan showed herself to be simultaneously lively and restrained. Her eyes looked curiously everywhere, but she was not chattering or exclaiming. She watched carefully at everything around her. This trip down the mountain was very different from the last. She knew about spring plowing on the plains; up in the mountains, they also cleared small patches of land to grow some grain.
But the yields on the mountain never matched those on the plains.
The order down the plains was a little better than the last time she’d come. A good official truly could improve a place. Su Yuan reflected.
During the term of the previous county magistrate, Wang-something, she had also come down the mountain a few times. Each time she’d felt it was tolerable. She thought: My brothers are surely better than that county magistrate named Wang — and yet they are always anxious that they can’t hold the settlement together. This mountain below must hold some secret that allows a settlement, a family, to carry on even under a mediocre leader.
Zhù Ying had no such philosophical preoccupations. Trade was a good thing — the tighter the ties, the better.
She wasn’t afraid this would violate any rules. The court mandated that salt and iron be sold only through official channels, and transactions required official authorization. Grain could be traded freely, but any very large-scale transaction would be monitored. And for “enemy states,” there was the strictest prohibition on all trade.
There was a loophole here. The Qixia people and all the “mountain peoples” were not an enemy state. It was the northern and western frontiers that required special authorization and official trading posts, otherwise it was smuggling. The “mountain peoples” had previously maintained a tolerably amicable relationship with the court, even willing to send the court token tributes of things like white-feathered pheasants. Between them, there had been a small amount of legal trade. Otherwise the court’s officials wouldn’t have been able to lure the tribal leaders over for a banquet.
After the tribal leader was burned to death by treachery, the various clans had fallen out with the government, raided and killed along the plains seeking revenge, and the court had dispatched officials to suppress them. Back and forth, they had fought for years, until the court finally determined who had caused the disaster, how much of the court’s military funds had been squandered for nothing, how many people had died for nothing, and stripped the official who had reported the deed as a merit and accepted the reward of his rank, exiling him three thousand li.
After that, the matter had been left deliberately vague. The various clans no longer maintained even a polite relationship with the government, but also no longer conducted excessive raiding — when the court bared its teeth, the clans came off worse. The court no longer sent troops to suppress them either — the last campaign had been far too costly. Things were left in this state of suspension. The “mountain peoples” had no country name, no common overlord, and none of them had proclaimed themselves a king. The court simply turned a blind eye. Since the court no longer sent armies to suppress them and no officials came to stir up trouble, Fulü County had no garrison troops — that was the reason. Both sides tacitly treated the other as if they didn’t exist.
So while “mountain peoples” was a pejorative term, they were not an “enemy state.” They could even be subject to loose administrative oversight. Trading a modest amount of grain, iron, and salt with them would not violate any court prohibition. But Zhù Ying planned to send word to the court: I’ve pulled the relationship with the people up in the mountains back a little closer.
As for trade in other commodities, there was even less need for restrictions.
That said, the amounts of salt, iron, and grain still needed some justification. Zhù Ying also wanted to exchange things with them for oxen and horses, and to get some of the mountain’s specialty products. The phrase “mountain delicacies and seafood” — well, mountain delicacies fetched quite a price. She could trade a bit on the side and earn some money. Furthermore, she wondered whether it was possible to grow trees on the mountain — fruit trees would work, and she had even heard of people growing tea trees on mountains…
Both women were absorbed in their own thoughts as they made their way back to the county seat.
When they were still a few li from the county seat, a passing villager had already recognized Zhù Ying, and immediately let out a joyful cry. “The county magistrate is back!”
And then sprinted off to carry the news.
In no time at all, the whole county seat was buzzing with activity. Everyone gathered along the main road to watch her return.
Zhù Ying said to Su Yuan, “I’ll arrange for you to stay at the post house. Will that be all right?”
Su Yuan said, “Fine.”
Zhù Ying said to Chief Registrar Mo and Zhao Su, “The two of you accompany Su Niangzi to the post house to get settled. Su Niangzi — please rest at the post house. If there’s anything lacking, just say so.”
Su Yuan smiled. “Certainly.”
She followed Chief Registrar Mo and Zhao Su to the post house. She found it comparable in quality to the Zhao family’s home. She had her attendants put away their luggage, then changed into different clothing herself, restyled her hair, and looked every bit an ordinary young woman who had come down from the mountain.
She didn’t ask anyone to accompany her. With a blade at her side, she quietly slipped out of the post house and began wandering through the county seat on her own. Before any negotiations, one had to get a sense of the lay of the land. It had been some time since she’d last visited — what had this county magistrate done to the county seat in the meantime? The people on the streets today looked a little better dressed than last time, and a little more spirited…
The county seat was small, and she’d soon made her way to the market, where she saw the literacy stele — something she hadn’t seen on her last visit. She pulled a passing stranger aside and asked, “What is that?”
The stranger said, “That’s the word stele the county magistrate erected! There’s also a song to go with it — once you learn the song, you can follow along and figure out which character is which.”
“The song?”
The stranger said, “I haven’t learned it yet myself.”
Su Yuan was amused. A character-learning song — what sort of thing was that? Was it very hard to learn?