Chapter Thirty-One: Warm Autumn

On the Hall of Daytime Splendor.

After a period of deep contemplation, the professor looked at Zhang Yue, then turned to Zhang Heng and asked, “Head of the study, how do you judge this boy’s aptitude for learning?”

Zhang Heng bowed to the professor and replied, “He possesses skill, though not from study.”

Zhang Yue glanced at Zhang Heng, thinking to himself that, given Zhang Heng’s position, such an appraisal was neither demeaning nor overly generous.

The professor said to Zhang Yue, “You may return for now.”

“Yes, sir,” Zhang Yue replied respectfully.

The professor added, “Wait. This hall usually does not instruct outsiders, but every day after the hour of Shen, I answer students’ questions here in the Hall of Daytime Splendor. Often, men of virtue visit me at this time. If your duties permit, you may come and listen, to benefit your studies.”

Zhang Yue said, “Though I am of humble origins, to be considered by you, sir, moves me deeply.”

Zhang Heng interjected, “The professor is courteous, but you must know your place. You have no formal relationship as student and teacher, nor are you my peer, nor a child of this Hall. Do not claim otherwise to outsiders in future.”

Zhang Yue listened, his expression calm. “Understood.”

With another bow, Zhang Yue left together with Guo Lin.

“You may disperse as well!” the professor said.

The clan’s students rose, bowed, and took their leave, leaving only the professor and the steward.

The professor said, “Now tell me, what is this boy’s background?”

The steward replied, “At first, I paid him no mind, but after seeking out his family records, I discovered he is Zhang Xu’s younger brother.”

“Zhang Xu? Who is that?” asked the professor.

The steward shook his head. “Zhang Xu is the second son from the county school. That young man is his brother, also a child of our Zhang clan and of the same house.”

The professor covered his forehead, murmuring, “I remember, I remember. Since he is Zhang Xu’s brother, he is our clan nephew. How did he fall to being a hired scribe?”

“You, aside from your scholarship and arts, have never concerned yourself with family affairs. Our Zhang clan is numerous, and it is easy to overlook some. Zhang Xu was once betrothed to the daughter of the county administrator Zhao, but on the day of his wedding, he fled. Zhao, under the pretense of recouping the dowry, extorted the Zhang family.”

“What a pity,” the professor sighed.

The steward continued, “Years ago, Zhang Xu himself brought essays and rich gifts, hoping to become your disciple, but you turned him away. Why did you not take him in?”

The professor explained, “This was just as I returned from the capital last year. Zhang Xu sought me out; his essays were exceptional, and his replies showed a quick wit and keen mind. I judged him a rare gem, and as one of our Zhang clan, there was no reason to reject him for his humble birth. Why hold such prejudices?”

The steward slapped his leg, “Indeed, had he succeeded, he would have brought honor to our clan.”

The professor said, “Though I was tempted, I did not say so openly. Yet, as we spoke, I sensed his ambition for fame was excessive, so I wished to temper him.”

“I tested him, saying, ‘With your talent, to gain renown in Donghua under my tutelage would not be difficult, but to seek only such fame would be a waste. Why not devote yourself to study for some years, and then pursue the imperial examinations?’”

The steward mocked, “Knowing his hunger for fame, you gave him such advice—how could he accept?”

The professor replied, “It was a way to judge his character by his response. Why not?”

“And what did he say?”

The professor sighed, “He replied, ‘If a man does not seize fame in his youth, what use is it to gain it when his hair turns white?’ With that, he took his leave.”

The steward laughed aloud, “Serves him right! Did you try to call him back?”

The professor said, “Once spoken, my words cannot be recalled. You see, he disregards rules and decorum, and who knows what trouble he may cause in future. To take him as a disciple would be no harm, but honor is secondary—protecting the family comes first!”

After thinking a while, the steward agreed, “That is true.”

—

After a pause, the steward asked, “And what of this third son, Zhang Yue?”

The professor replied, “He possesses a fraction of his elder brother’s talent, but needs guidance to follow the proper path. Had I known earlier he was Zhang Xu’s brother, I would not have let him attend as an auditor.”

“Why not?”

The professor explained, “For a clan child to be an auditor here is improper. We clearly distinguish between legitimate and collateral branches. So I must either accept him as a disciple or find him another teacher. Tell me, Brother Biao, since you value him, why not teach him yourself?”

The steward said, “I have withdrawn from such pursuits. I wish to avoid official affairs and have no desire to instruct disciples. Besides, I have offended the current minister of records—taking him as a pupil would only harm him.”

The professor laughed, “I see your regard for him stems from your respect for Master Meng.”

With a grave expression, the steward replied, “Master Meng’s teachings are closest to the sage’s; how could I not respect him?”

The professor smiled, “We’ve debated this for thirty years; let’s leave it for today. As for Zhang Yue, whether for your sake or for the clan’s, as long as he remains here, I will keep him in check and not let him follow his brother’s path.”

At this time, Zhang Yue and Guo Lin returned to the book tower.

“Brother,” Zhang Yue said, “if you have something to say, just say it. Otherwise, it’ll come out eventually.”

Guo Lin was puzzled, “What do you mean, ‘come out’? Are you saying my words are like—like passing wind?”

Zhang Yue laughed, clutching his stomach, “That’s your interpretation, not mine.”

After a while, Guo Lin said, “You’ve hidden two things from me!”

“What two things?”

“First, you didn’t tell me you were Zhang Xu’s brother. Second, you didn’t say you befriended the steward just to enter the clan school.”

Zhang Yue replied, “Let me answer. First, I didn’t say it because you never asked. Second, I did cultivate a connection with the steward, but only to read in the book tower, not to join the clan school.”

Guo Lin’s face showed he didn’t believe him.

“But brother, I never stopped you—not because I’m selfish or don’t want you at the clan school. But you saw today, there are ranks among men. Though you’re of the same clan, do they treat you as such?”

“How can rough clothes and hemp shoes share a room with silk and brocade? People respect finery before the person; they think you’re reaching above your station. The head’s words were harsh…”

Zhang Yue glanced at Guo Lin, thinking that being an auditor was better than serving as a page.

“If they refuse to acknowledge me as a peer, then I won’t acknowledge them either. Who will be seeking favor from whom in the future remains to be seen!” Zhang Yue declared.

Guo Lin shook his head, “You have not a tenth of your brother’s talent, but just as much pride. Where are you going? The book tower is not in that direction.”

Zhang Yue called out cheerfully, “I’m off to relieve myself. Care to join me?”

Guo Lin frowned, “Why would anyone need company for that? No, thank you.”

Zhang Yue feigned disappointment, “I thought you might want to ‘return broth to food.’ Never mind.”

“What does that mean?” Guo Lin asked, bewildered, as Zhang Yue strode away.

The next morning, Zhang Yue donned a jacket sent from home days ago. It was once worn by his second brother, and fortunately had not been taken by the county administrator. When times were good, garments passed from Zhang Shi to Zhang Xu, then to Zhang Yue. This jacket was worn by his brother when studying. Before the New Year, Zhang Yue found it a bit large, but now it fit well. The seams were fine, clearly stitched by his sister-in-law.

After washing and grooming himself, Zhang Yue put on the new clothes and felt renewed. The only flaw was a patched hole in his socks, bitten by mice, which he managed to hide beneath his foot.

With winter’s late dawn, the two set out half an hour later than usual.

The sun shone bright, and the gentle autumn breeze brought a pleasant warmth.

—

After days of rain, at last the skies cleared.

Early, Zhang Yue and Guo Lin arrived at the South Peak Court, where the steward’s granddaughter crouched in the doorway.

After greeting her, the little girl looked Zhang Yue up and down and exclaimed, “Brother, you look different today! Such fine clothes!”

Zhang Yue smiled and pinched her cheek, “I like that you have such sharp eyes for your age!”

The girl giggled.

“Today I haven’t time to play with you—find the big brother instead,” Zhang Yue said, pointing to Guo Lin, who was quietly entering.

“Alright! I want to play horsey!” the girl laughed.

Inside the book tower, Zhang Yue saw the steward tidying the second-floor reading room.

Zhang Yue set down his bundle and said, “Let me help you.”

The steward turned, “Who asked for your help? Can you finish copying the books today? You need to go to the Hall of Daytime Splendor at Shen hour.”

Hearing this, Zhang Yue’s heart warmed; the steward was reminding him of the appointment.

“No rush! I know this book tower better than you!” Zhang Yue said, helping to organize the shelves.

The steward watched as Zhang Yue swiftly brought the tower into order. “You’re quite adept at managing things.”

Zhang Yue laughed, “It’s all thanks to your teaching.”

The steward snorted, “Don’t flatter me. Finish what’s left, and come back after copying.”

Knowing there was much to do today, Zhang Yue replied, “Alright!”

Seeing Zhang Yue descend the stairs, the steward nodded, almost imperceptibly.

Zhang Yue bent over his desk and continued copying. The steward, after finishing his tasks, glanced at Zhang Yue’s writing and thought, his young clan nephew’s script improves day by day—he is making an effort.

With much on his mind, Zhang Yue worked harder than usual, copying diligently all morning, even skipping lunch.

Guo Lin came several times to urge him, and seeing Zhang Yue so absorbed, shook his head, “If you can’t finish, I’ll help you copy.”

Zhang Yue kept his head down, “I can’t trouble you forever.”

Guo Lin thought, so now you’re courteous…

“I’ll bring your meal over.”

“Good idea, while the steward’s away.”

Guo Lin brought the meal; Zhang Yue cupped the warm soup bowl in his hands, grateful for its heat after hours of copying. The book tower forbade braziers, so Guo Lin had kept the food warm beside one, ensuring it was still hot.

“You’re too kind, brother!”

Warming his hands, Zhang Yue greedily drank a mouthful of soup.

Ah, today’s tofu soup was perfectly seasoned, truly delicious!

All afternoon while copying, Zhang Yue kept checking the time. As the hour of Shen approached, he put down his pen and hurried to the Hall of Daytime Splendor.