After Zhù Lian departed, the marshal’s office gradually grew quieter. Lang Rui had left with him, and Lang Rui’s younger brother A’Pu, missing his elder brother, was less lively than before. Zhao Ji had traveled with Zhù Lian as well, and his younger brother had settled down considerably over the past few days — Zhao Su had not yet left, and he was the kind of father who paid close attention to his children. He kept a firm hand, so in his presence the boy was well-behaved and quiet.
The newlyweds planned to return to Pu’an Prefecture in a few days — the officials, common people, and soldiers of Pu’an had yet to drink any wedding wine. After the autumn harvest, everyone would have a stretch of rest time, and they needed to use that window to make up the wedding banquet; any later, and it would delay the winter construction projects and military drills.
Zhù Qingjun and Bai Ling packed their belongings and came to bid farewell to Zhù Ying. Zhù Ying had been feeling at loose ends. Within the marshal’s office, there were almost no people left she could talk freely with — if pressed, she might name Hou Wu, Du Dajie, and now Jiang Guafu, but Hou Wu was down to a single breath, and the other two often couldn’t follow what she meant.
She picked up a brush and twirled it between her fingers, watching the smoke curl from the incense burner into various shapes.
Zhù Qingjun’s arrival lifted her spirits a little. Looking the girl over carefully, she appeared to be in good color — evidently marriage was not, at least, any torment for Zhù Qingjun. Zhù Ying said, “No need to rush on the road. Travel slowly, and once you’re back, rest for a few days first — there’s no urgency.”
Zhù Qingjun asked, “Is it because of Chancellor Wang and Chancellor Shi? So there’s less need for us to rush now?”
Zhù Ying said, “A little.”
Zhù Qingjun asked further, “The troops we assembled before were to guard against chaos. Now the court seems to be on an upward trajectory — no results yet, but the momentum is genuinely good. Shall we continue drilling the soldiers? The cost is not low. Furthermore, once they’re trained, if there is warfare, they’ll have a purpose. But if there’s lasting peace, these well-trained young men would be idle — wouldn’t that mean years of effort and expenditure wasted? Idle people are prone to causing trouble, and ordinary idle young men are troublesome enough; these men are trained soldiers…”
The garrison farming truly was farming — there was genuine produce. The soldiers and their families could supply a large portion of their own grain, and the various prefectures did not have to divert too much grain secretly. But soldiers did not live on food alone: there was also the cavalry, and buying and keeping warhorses was a frightening expense. Warhorses were a special category, quite different from draft horses. Then there were armor and weapons — none of these were small outlays. Annan’s situation was improving, but the reserve of resources was not large. Maintaining an army was a continuous drain; if it was not strictly necessary, it did indeed call for reconsideration.
Zhù Ying said, “Since they’ve been trained, there will be a use for them. Setting aside the fact that the policies of Shi and Wang have yet to show results, even if there were lasting peace in the realm, the Western Tribes would not sit quietly. With this force in place, there would be no need to draft additional conscripts when dealing with the Western Tribes.”
Zhù Qingjun asked, “So… we continue training?”
Zhù Ying said, “Train. If I am still alive when the time comes to use them, so be it. If not — keep a firm grip on them yourself. You must always have a military force in your hands. The governor of Xizhou must never hand that over to anyone else.”
“Yes.”
“Go now.”
Zhù Qingjun bowed deeply to the ground, then slowly backed out. Rather than immediately returning to her room to prepare for departure, she went to find Liu Ao and Liu Yan, to ask whether they had any letters or items to send to Liu Kun. The three — aunt and two nieces — depended on each other, and while the servants they had brought to Annan looked like quite a few at first glance, divided among three people, it left barely enough for everyday help, making it very difficult to send couriers with letters and gifts frequently.
Both Liu Ao and Liu Yan were thinking of Liu Kun with concern. Liu Kun had been busy since arriving in Pu’an Prefecture, sending three letters back in the interim, each of them thick. The two had found themselves captivated by what Liu Kun described, and longed for Liu Kun to have been able to come to Xizhou to report in person this time. As it happened, Liu Kun had not been able to come — after the autumn harvest, the students who had gone home to help had returned to school, and this was the most suitable period of the year for teaching.
Liu Kun was also managing the work of assisting Jiang Wan now that Zhù Qingjun had stepped back, and simply could not get away.
Zhù Qingjun, familiar with the way, went to the aunt-and-niece pair’s quarters and knocked on the door. “May I come in?”
She announced her departure and asked if there were any letters or items to send along. Liu Ao and Liu Yan quickly invited her to wait: “Give us a moment to write right now. And there are a few things — please take them to her.” They had planned to send a person in a day or two on their own; this was a convenient opportunity.
They also had winter clothes to prepare for Liu Kun. Annan’s winters were not particularly cold, but new clothes were still called for. The aunt and two nieces retained some old habits from their former life — they had new garments made every season. Now that each had her own salary to spend, buying things felt even easier. Besides winter clothes, there was food.
Zhù Qingjun said, “She has things. Pu’an Prefecture also pays a salary, and she’s been buying her own.”
Liu Ao smiled. “This is yogurt bought from Western Tribe merchants — rich and full-flavored, just the kind of novel thing she likes.”
Zhù Qingjun said, “In that case, I’ll set aside a cart for your use. Will that be enough?”
Liu Yan thought a moment — what they had would not fill a full cart. She said, “That’s plenty. Then we’ll trouble the governor. We’ll find her once we’ve packed.” Zhù Qingjun said, “Good. I won’t disturb you further.”
Once she left, Liu Yan suggested, “Haven’t we just finished printing some new books? Let’s fill the cart up properly — that way, next time the governor is going somewhere convenient, she can do us another favor.”
Liu Ao said, “Does that even need saying? Even without her carrying them, I’d send the Twenty-Third Young Lady some books.”
The two quickly finished packing, drew up an inventory, and passed it along together with the letter to Zhù Qingjun, who received everything with a smile. The cart was loaded, and she set off back to Pu’an Prefecture.
Liu Ao followed along with Zhù Ying to see them off a short distance. From thoughts of Liu Kun her mind drifted to the parents and family far away across a thousand miles. Zhù Ying had already had Zhù Lian carry a letter for the two of them as well; there was no knowing yet how things had gone. A sense of melancholy settled over her, and without quite realizing it, she fell into step behind Zhù Ying. Liu Yan silently did the same. The three of them made their way wordlessly to the study, and Zhù Ying asked, “Missing the Twenty-Third Young Lady?”
Liu Ao said, “A little — though she’s not so far away. If I truly miss her too much, I can always go see her. It’s the family at home…”
Liu Yan said, “When I was at home, I resented them for being hard-hearted, for being… but from far away, it’s easy to remember only the good times.”
Liu Ao said, “Even the parts that weren’t good, when you think carefully, were mostly not because they didn’t love us. They simply didn’t understand. There are very few people in the world who can see as clearly as our grandfather and have the resolve to act on it — and even fewer who have someone like the marshal to trust with the matter.”
Zhù Ying said, “Mmm. Being able to think that way is rather good. As long as your sense of purpose is firm — knowing what you should and shouldn’t do — having a few feelings is no bad thing.”
Liu Yan found herself moved by her aunt’s words: “Indeed. With our great-grandfather’s discernment, the best he could do for us was find this one haven in Annan. Beyond Annan, the years roll on unchanged. The chancellors today show signs of capable governance, and I find myself not knowing whether I should hope for things to go well or not. Sometimes I think — I know, I know, that disorder brings suffering to commoners and nobility alike, but why should only we suffer? If we must suffer, let everyone suffer together! No matter how peaceful the age, the Twelfth Young Lady still died.”
Zhù Ying said, “When I was young, there was no Annan.”
The two young women’s eyes widened slightly. Zhù Ying said slowly, “Beyond ‘finding’ a haven, there are other things one can do, are there not?”
Liu Ao said, “We cannot compare ourselves to you.”
Zhù Ying shook her head. “When I entered officialdom, I understood nothing. I was simply trying to get by.”
Liu Yan said, “Even so, people differ. Without self-knowledge, nothing can be accomplished. We are content to follow in your wake.”
Zhù Ying laughed. “You are in the years of greatest ambition. What if I died? Whose wake would you follow then?”
“Marshal?!” Both of them were displeased. The startled, indignant expressions of young women from distinguished families were quite lovely — there was a faint note of endearing reproach in their voices, which was very pleasant to hear.
Zhù Ying said, “Don’t say ‘follow’ — say ‘choose.’ Hmm?”
The hint of pink still lingering on their faces, both nodded. “Yes!” Liu Ao added, “Coming to Annan was our grandfather’s arrangement. Staying — that was our own choice.”
Zhù Ying said, “In that case, shouldn’t you be doing a little more?”
“Ah?”
How to “use” these treasures that Liu Songnian had sent her — Zhù Ying had learned through slow experimentation. From the very beginning, she had never had people like them around her; she herself had built her position through sheer capability, and was lacking in experience on that front. Over the past two years, beyond school work, book editing, and drafting documents, she had gradually come to understand their particular value.
Zhù Ying smiled. “Would you be willing to try establishing a school and giving public lectures? What you’re doing now is what an ordinary academic official could do. You’ve edited books, yes, but you’ve gained no real reputation for it. Like Hua Jie…”
She paused, then said, “She had genuine disciples! You should have some too. I’m not asking you to become a Confucius or a Mencius — but you can take inspiration from them!”
“We are already teaching now…” Liu Ao said, a little flustered. Confucius and Mencius? What a thought! And weren’t they already teachers? Was what they were doing not teaching?
Zhù Ying said, “There is a difference between reciting from texts and speaking from genuine understanding. Teach law — teach it as rites; teach the regulations of Annan. People are different from one another. Taking the same books, sitting in the same classroom, and all going off to do the same work will not do. There must be some with higher gifts who continue to delve deeper, to develop and pass on a school of thought.”
Liu Yan also felt her own learning was still inadequate. “We are still far from the great scholars of old.”
“Teaching and learning advance together — you’ll never be better than anyone else if you never start. And you cannot confine yourselves to abstract discourse. After a while, bring Liu Kun back; let the three of you take turns. The governance of the Three Dynasties has long since become a thing without even a shadow; times change, and learning that does not move with the times has only one future — extinction. The books of Annan serve the present needs; they may not serve the future. When that time comes and revisions are needed, who will do it? Invite a hall of ancestors to lord it over our descendants? That won’t do, won’t do at all…”
Both young women wavered. In the end, the influence of a lifetime of upbringing prevailed — what scholar does not dream of such a thing? The daughters of the “literary patriarchs” of the realm could not be ordinary all their lives.
Liu Ao said, “We are willing to try. But we have no clear plan as of yet. We beg for a few years’ grace — let us first establish the school properly. Once the students are ready to teach and lecture in their own right, we will surely devote ourselves to deeper study.”
“All right.”
The two relaxed and smiled. Thinking again of their parents and family at home, the melancholy faded considerably. And they thought: who knows how they are faring — but as for me, it seems I have not let our great-grandfather down.
——
The Liu family continued its daily life, until the day Zhù Lian delivered Liu Ao’s letter to the Liu family home.
Liu Songnian’s decision — his descendants were not entirely without the courage to defy it; the girls were gone, after all, and a little passive resistance was possible. But none of them was smarter than Liu Songnian had been. They had never outmaneuvered the old man. He had calculated everything well in advance. The Liu family did not pursue the girls who had run away; they simply ensured no one in the household spoke of them again.
Others were one thing, but the birth parents still carried something in their hearts.
On receiving the letter, there were those who cursed the “heartless ghost” and wept in secret under the covers at night. When facing Zhù Lian, however, they were perfectly courteous — asking after the three girls’ lives in Annan and probing tentatively to find out what arrangements Zhù Ying had made.
Zhù Lian smiled and said, “Men and women have their separate domains; the young ladies’ affairs are not something I know much about. But the marshal is a woman herself, and she will look after them well.”
A mother tried to ask about the marriage customs of Annan, deeply afraid her daughter might be disadvantaged, hoping Zhù Ying could find them suitable matches out of respect for Liu Songnian — or at least, if no match was made, not a hasty one.
Zhù Lian also asked them to write a reply, saying he could carry letters home. The women in the family wanted to write; the men flatly refused — since they had gone, it was as though they did not exist.
Seeing this, Zhù Lian did not press further. He left the gifts and departed. His errand had taken him to several estates — all of them homes of Zhù Ying’s old acquaintances. The Liu family was only one of them, and attracted no particular attention. But in his heart, he felt that Liu Songnian’s descendants were indeed not the equal of Liu Songnian himself.
Returning to his lodgings, Wang Shuliang had already sent an invitation for him to come by. Zhù Lian had first reported to the Court of State Ceremonial, then settled accounts with the Ministry of Finance, then made his rounds delivering letters. Wang Shuliang’s had been the first call he made, followed by calls at the Chen, Shi, and Zheng estates. Wang Shuliang must have now read the letter and have questions.
Zhù Lian went calmly to Wang Shuliang’s estate. Since Wang Shuliang had become chancellor, he had moved back into the family residence where Wang Yunhe had once lived — an old house with a new occupant. Zhù Lian was somewhat familiar with the place and made his way in, finding that the layout had not changed much.
Wang Shuliang had expected Zhù Ying to convey some special instruction about “cultivating talent” through Zhù Lian. Instead, Zhù Lian said, “My teacher says — just this. If she were to manage things more, people would start to suspect her again.”
Wang Shuliang could only smile ruefully. He shifted the subject and asked, “You have been going around visiting friends in the capital these past days. What impressions have you gathered?”
Zhù Lian said earnestly, “The price of rice is ten copper coins higher than when we left, and it looks like it will keep rising.”
Wang Shuliang sighed. What he faced now was not “vassal lords” but “powerful local clans,” and reining in the military forces in powerful clans’ hands was no easy matter. He said, “We are working to stabilize the price of rice.”
Zhù Lian said, “The problem of land consolidation — it’s already a little late to be dealing with it, isn’t it?”
Wang Shuliang said with feeling, “It must still be done!”
Zhù Lian bowed and said nothing further. Wang Shuliang was also wondering whether, if Zhù Ying and the people under her were still in court, things would go more smoothly. In the end, he said not a single word of it.
Wang Shuliang finally reminded Zhù Lian, “Be cautious while you’re in the capital. His Majesty has certain prejudices against your teacher.”
“Yes.”
——
Beyond Wang Shuliang, the Chen estate also sent an invitation.
Chen Meng had not yet departed for his planned journey. His health was intermittent; he had been about to set off when his condition worsened, forcing him to stay. He was still recuperating. When Zhù Lian had called on him a few days earlier, he had been too ill to receive visitors; he was now finally a little better.
After a long separation, Chen Meng’s hair had gone entirely white. After asking after Zhù Ying, he asked about Hua Jie. Zhù Lian told him everything. Chen Meng said, “Buried together with the Old Madam — the ancestral rites will be maintained — that’s as good as it can be.” Then he started to say something, and stopped.
Zhù Lian said, “The other one — my teacher will also take good care of her.”
Chen Meng gave a small cough and asked, “Has your teacher offered any opinion on the imperial princes?”
“What do you mean?”
Chen Meng frowned. “There is something of a problem.”
“I would be glad to hear more.”
“Very well. You should also bring some news back to her.”
The affairs of the imperial palace were difficult for outsiders to observe. But chancellors had their own channels of information, among them their wives. The wives could enter and leave the palace freely, and how much they learned depended on their own abilities. Chen Meng’s wife was clearly quite capable — at least the surface appearances had all been observed and reported back.
The young Empress Mu, despite her youth, carried something of Empress Dowager Mu’s manner — her conduct was orderly and her actions were thorough. Recently she appeared to be with child, but this had created a certain difficulty for the Emperor.
The Emperor had enfeoffed his grown sons as princes — that in itself was normal. Princes were enfeoffed at no fixed time, mostly before their marriages so they could establish their own residences and take wives; some favorites received titles when very young. But the Emperor appeared to be contemplating granting his sons actual territorial fiefs.
Chen Meng’s head ached at the thought. This terrible Emperor was trying to cultivate royal clan power again — just like his father the late Emperor! As if there weren’t already enough disruptions!
Chen Meng found the Emperor utterly preposterous. Though he had retired from office, he still felt that what was urgently needed right now was the establishment of a crown prince, to settle the hearts of the people under heaven. The matter of imperial princes and the royal clan could wait! If Zhù Ying had any suggestions, he wanted to hear them. He could then coordinate with the other chancellors, push a candidate forward, and retire home to his old age in peace.
Zhù Lian thought to himself: what kind of situation is this? Things had just improved a little, and now the Emperor was about to cause more trouble for everyone?