Under a Big Tree on the Side of the Street Lan Jue Caught Sight of a Lone Person Standing Upright as They Watched Lan Residence
It was the Qingming Festival in the Capital, the sky slightly overcast without the slightest drizzle. Lan Jue, the Minister of Rites, strolled out his residence from a small corner gate. Vice Minister Lan had been feeling quite panicked these past few days; the preliminary round for the Imperial Examinations were getting closer, so increasingly more people had begun carrying gifts to his residence. However, the court had recently begun to cleanse out political corruption; the noble and unsullied members of the Censorate had sent impeachment memorials to the throne, each of their submissions with his name written on them.
Today, a few people from the court had sent Lan Jue a stack of incisively-written accordion books omitting names. Pressed at the very top were cinnabar inscriptions – (1) Zhen believes (2) Lan-qing will definitely select talents for the court. Manage the preliminary round well.
The handwriting was sharp with a trace of youthful childishness; it was written by the Emperor.
Lan Jue held the stack of accordion books, his wrist pained.
The natures of offence written on these impeachments were, generally speaking, all he’d been stained with, but if we were speaking specifically they were also far too emphasised.
Then and again, once an official’s robe was worn, who wouldn’t experience such things?
It’s just, since he received this pile of things, this year’s preliminary round for the Imperial Examinations had to be cleaned of all impurities, leaving not even the slightest scent of fishy odours.
The young Emperor had only just turned fifteen last year, had just taken over the reigns of government, and his tactics were gradually emerging; in the future, he’d have to increase his alertness.
Vice Minister Lan placed the Emperor’s instructions on his desk, his brain beginning to hurt.
Wealth and money were valuables kept for entertainment; it streamed continuously before his eyes, yet he had to refrain from taking it. However, even if he did return it, he had to pay lots of caution and lose many favours.
Vice Minister Lan felt so frustrated he changed into casual clothes and went out alone to release the stuffiness in his heart.
After he exited the long alley, under a big tree on the side of the street Lan Jue caught sight of a lone person standing upright as they watched Lan Residence.
That person was approximately in his twenties. He was tall and emaciated; dressed in a grey and shabby (3) Changshan; his skin a yellowish-black; cheeks sunken; brows furrowed; a pair of hungry eyes staring at the entrance of Master Lan’s home.
Master Lan felt this person wasn’t here to send him gifts. He immediately thought of all the bad he’d ever done; unexpectedly, he couldn’t think of anything that matched with this person.
The thought of all the romantic affairs he’d made during his early years, even including those from when he was sixteen, but he couldn’t think of any that could’ve given him a son of this age.
But the young man’s persistent stare at Lan Residence made Master Lan feel a crippling panic. By chance, he saw three or four scholars walking along the opposite street; these people turned their heads and saw the young man. They suddenly chucked a few times and muttered to each other in low voices.
Lan Jue took a detour and followed them to a tea shop; just as they were going to enter, Lan Jue stepped forward and cupped his hand in greeting. “Brothers, are you also here as examinees for the preliminary round?”
The scholars and Lan Jue exchanged conventional greetings before entering the teahouse to drink and gossip about the preliminary rounds together at the same table. “I’ve heard that Grandma Liu’s grandson Fu is also participating. It seems the first rank has been set, and only two positions are left for competition.”
Another scholar wearing a green Changshan spoke. “I know myself. I’ll be content as long as I’m on the list, even if I’m ranked last. I don’t dare think about being ranked first, so I’ll just let it be.”
A blue-robed scholar said with a smile, “it’s a pity we can’t reincarnate into the Liu or Wang family, or have enough wealth to buy into Vice Minister Lan’s threshold.”
Lan Jue followed his words with a response. “That Vice Minister Lan might not be as snobbish as rumours depict him. Just then I saw a dark, thin buddy standing by the entrance of the Vice Minister’s residence; he didn’t appear rich or powerful.”
The scholars laughed, and the blue-robed scholar asked, “Brother Cao, could it be the person you saw was a tall, thin man wearing a shabby, grey Changshan who had a slight bumpkin air to him?”
Lan Jue nodded. “Yes, yes.”
The scholar in blue chuckled a few times. “He wants to enter the Vice Minister’s residence, but he’s afraid the stone lions won’t let him. It seems Brother Cao really did just arrive at the Capital – you haven’t even heard of this buddy. This person is called Zhang Ping, an examinee from Xichuan County. I’ve heard he has no mother nor father, grew up in the City God Temple, studied in a school relying on the donations of a government official living there, and managed to get admitted into Xichuan County’s list of recommendations to the Capital. Unfortunately, he gained a bad reputation because of one matter – the most ridiculous part of this matter was that in the end, he actually set up a stall selling noodles at the market and made every scholar lose face. Even examinees who came to the Capital with him from Xichuan Country rarely interact with him.”
When Master Lan heard of such bleak life experiences, his tiny heart felt nothing and he even thought back to the things he’d done behind everyone’s back.
I shouldn’t have ruined any families… Master Lan pondered with uncertainty.
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Seeing how dumbfounded he was, the blue-robed scholar continued. “Does Brother Cao also believe this noodle-selling matter to be outrageous?”
Lan Jue replied, “it’s indeed unexpected for someone to actually do this.”
Another brown-robed scholar went on to say, “it’s because this Zhang Ping was desperate. According to what I know, when he first arrived at the Capital he rented a dilapidated house to live in. The landlord relied on his rice shop for a living; seeing how honest and sincere Zhang Ping was, he didn’t charge him for rent and even helped him provide all three of his meals. In return, he only let him settle his shop’s accounts. That shop-owner had a daughter who’d follow Zhang Ping in and out of the store, so he had intentions to make Zhang Ping become his son-in-law. Unexpectedly, he stubbornly refused, causing the young lady to almost commit suicide.”
Lan Jue spoke. “It’s hard to say whether this matter is true or not. Although the land-lord was kind to Zhang Ping, if Zhang Ping didn’t like his daughter it wouldn’t be good to force marriage.”
The blue-robed scholar responded. “Brother Cao is too generous; it’s because Zhang Ping found the lady’s legs and feet to be too inflexible. He believed that if there’s a day he passed the exams, having such a lady as his wife would be indecent. The lady sought to commit suicide, but he didn’t even go visit her. This matter spread widely; since then, Zhang Ping was despised by everyone and his reputation was ruined. That nosy meddler even said that when he passed the exams he’d report this matter to Prince Huai. I can only say that he was mocking a cripple; in this life, he won’t ever have the chance to hold his head high.”
Lan Jue listened with a smile. Prince Huai was the current Imperial Uncle; he held military power and was the temporary regent before the Emperor took place. When Prince Huai was still young he broke his leg while riding, so his right leg had a slight limp.
He was always serious among the examinees; it seemed Zhang Ping had made contact with some calamity and was suppressed by it.
Lan Jue deliberately mulled over it before speaking. “Perhaps Brother Zhang has some unspeakable difficulties, and dared not receive familial care. After all, we don’t know everything about him.”
The scholars laughed once again. “It seems Brother Cao likes to read those fantasy novels written by Red Leaves in Western Hills and such, where there’s a lot of (4) Jianghu suspense elements.”
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After bidding the scholars farewell and leaving the teahouse, Lan Jue slowly walked back home, wondering if he should get someone to investigate Zhang Ping’s origins, yet at the same time wondering if that would be too unfair and suspicious.
He was no longer under the tree outside of Lan Residence; Lan Jue looked at the tree for a bit and decided to wait a while.
After returning to his residence, Lan Jue casually asked his inner-residence steward whether there had been any suspicious people around lately. The steward said that except for those who came to send gifts, there wasn’t anything suspicious.
These words made Lan Jue feel dubious.
His residence guards had always been cautious; if there was even a fly buzzing around the entrance a few extra rounds, they’d speculate whether an assassin had stuck a poisonous needle on its legs. It was completely illogical for them to not have noticed Zhang Ping.
The steward continued. “My Prince, when you left, we followed and saw a poor scholar standing by the entrance; we paid special attention to him for a while. He was probably too poor to send a gift. He stood for a while before leaving.”
Lan Jue made an ‘oh’ sound, and never mentioned this matter again.
The preliminary round was approaching, so the (5) Yamen departments naturally had an increase of official duties. There were several major matters to take care of in court, such as Prince Huai upcoming marriage with a concubine and the Empress Dowager’s birthday, so there’d been many busy consecutive days where Lan Jue could only return home after dark.
This evening, he returned home slightly earlier; he took off his official’s robe and changed into semi-worn clothing before walking out of his residence.
On the streets, the most-seen clothing were scholarly Changshan’s; it appeared everyone was preparing for the preliminary round. Lan Jue walked around to a small street; under an old wall, four bamboo poles held up a simple shed. Misty, white smoke rose from a stove under the shed.
A thin young man was lifting the lid of the pot, stirring the insides with a large iron spoon, a torn apron tied around his grey, shabby Changshan, looking like a lonely ghost who’d crawled out from a ghost story.
Lan Jue walked to the stall. “Stall-owner, a bowl of noodles.”
(1) Zhen – used by the Emperor when referring to himself
(2) Lan-qing – ‘qing’ means ‘subject’; used by the Emperor
(3) Changshan – the male equivalent to a cheongsam
(4) Jianghu – literal translation is ‘rivers and lakes’; refers to the Martial World
(5) Yamen – the administrative office or residence of a local bureaucrat