After March arrived, the rising sun grew steadily harsher, its heat no longer gentle.
When Jian Yong stepped into the Taixue, his stride lacked its usual lightness. There was even a hint of grim resolve on his face.
This was not surprising. On ordinary days, Jian Yong dressed with an air of leisurely ease, so much so that the students privately praised him as having the bearing of a true cultivated recluse. Today, however, he wore a red-and-black official robe, a bronze seal with a yellow cord at his waist, and a two-ridged jinxian crown on his head. Though the attire lent him a dignified elegance, it left him deeply uncomfortable.
Compared to that, what troubled him more was what awaited him next.
His steps stiff, Jian Yong walked through the Taixue almost without thinking. He knew the place so well that by the time he came back to himself, he was already standing outside a classroom.
A year had passed, and the Taixue was no longer the bare-bones institution it had once been. Yet with the implementation of the divided disciplines and the three-tier system, the number of students had surged, and the shortage of lecturers and scholars had grown increasingly severe.
After some discussion, Kongming and Lord Xuande decided to promote the top performers from previous examinations to assistant instructors, assigning them textbooks so they could study and teach alongside the students. In addition, Pang Shiyuan, Fa Xiaozhi, Lu Zijing, Lady Huang, and others were persuaded to shoulder teaching posts for a year, to help guide the overall direction of instruction.
Jian Yong himself had been appointed, on a temporary basis, as an instructor in rhetoric within the Civil Canon discipline. Today was his first day teaching.
And yet, when he thought about enlightening children barely past infancy and shaping their lifelong approach to learning, Jian Yong, who could chat calmly with tribal chieftains and trade clever words with Qiang and Hu generals, found himself unaccountably nervous.
Still, he was not one to dither. After hesitating for only a few breaths outside the door, he steeled himself and pushed it open.
It was not that Jian Yong had never seen children before.
He had seen them alive and dead, starving and well-fed, dull and clever, foolish and bright, lovable and exasperating.
But he had never seen dozens of children sitting so neatly in rows, backs straight, all staring at him.
Their eyes were clear and untainted, filled with innocent curiosity and a yearning for knowledge, bright as scattered stars.
In that moment, Jian Yong suddenly understood the deeper meaning behind Kongming's words: "The Han shall rise through learning."
There was, however, one figure among them that felt slightly out of place.
The man had shed his general's armor and helmet, now dressed in elegant robes and wearing a pheasant-feather crown. His face was smooth and refined, his bearing graceful and unrestrained.
He blinked at Jian Yong with a smile and mischievously took the lead.
"Greetings to the instructor. May you be well."
At once, the children rose in uneven fashion, some clasping their hands, some bowing properly.
"Greetings to the instructor. May you be well."
All of Jian Yong's unease melted away.
After briefly introducing himself, he went straight to the point.
"I am the instructor of rhetoric."
"In the Book of Documents, 'speech' carries the meaning of dispute, words that uphold justice and fairness. 'Command' refers to orders, instructions issued from above."
"The study of rhetoric is the study of understanding the customs of many peoples, grasping the conditions of foreign lands, and using the words of Great Han to guide and command them, so that the realm may be at peace."
These were words he had carefully prepared the night before. Clearly, though, he had overestimated his audience.
"Instructor, what is a dispute?"
"Instructor, what does 'customs' mean?"
"Instructor, if we learn rhetoric, will our lives become stable?"
"Instructor…"
Jian Yong raised a hand to quiet them. After thinking for a brief moment, he decided to change tactics.
Pointing at the tall, handsome gentleman in the back, still wearing a pheasant-feather crown, he said, "Why not have General Ma explain first why the Qiang and the Han are brothers?"
The title of "general" immediately drew admiration and attention from the room. With no choice, Ma Chao rose, smiling, and joined Jian Yong at the front to teach the very first lesson in rhetoric.
By the time half the day had passed, Jian Yong bade farewell to Ma Chao, dragged his exhausted body back to his office in the Taixue, and collapsed onto the couch.
Lu Su looked up from his documents and books and laughed. "Xianhe, did teaching go as you imagined?"
Staring blankly at the ceiling beams, Jian Yong replied dully, "Only today do I understand how difficult it was for my father when I was young. Fortunately, Mengqi lent a hand."
Lu Su rubbed his lower back, intrigued. "Ma Mengqi?"
Jian Yong nodded, his thoughts finally beginning to flow more smoothly.
"The study of rhetoric opens students' eyes to the world, so they may learn to hold all under Heaven in their hearts."
"A master of rhetoric can serve as envoy, traveling among a hundred states to proclaim the dignity of the court. One of middling skill can still pacify tribes and foreigners within Han territory, letting them absorb Han customs until they are little different from Han people themselves."
"As for Ma Mengqi, I once told him that everyone knows his mother was Qiang. If he wished to silence mockery, the easiest way was to make full use of the name 'Jin Ma Chao', so that Han and Qiang alike would see no division."
"Today, he came so these children would not look down on the Qiang."
Lu Su nodded in agreement. "If so, then Ma Mengqi's actions align perfectly with our intent."
"Exactly," Jian Yong said.
After some idle conversation, Jian Yong suddenly remembered something.
"As far as I know, Kongming teaches waterworks, Lady Huang teaches engineering, Xiaozhi teaches military strategy, Divine Physician Zhang teaches medicine, and Pang Shiyuan teaches policy essays."
"Then who is teaching agriculture this afternoon?"
Lu Su buried his head back in his work and answered muffledly, "Lord Xuande himself."
"Lord Xuande?!" Jian Yong leapt up.
"If I don't see that with my own eyes, what a regret it would be. Zijing, come with me."
Lu Su laughed and shook his head, pointing at the scattered books and papers on his desk.
Jian Yong ignored him, turned back, and dragged Lu Su along. "The work won't finish today anyway. We can light lamps tonight. Missing the chance to see the lord teach would be a true loss."
Lu Su could only laugh helplessly and give in.
They learned that Lord Xuande had moved the agriculture lesson to the fields south of the city, so they left the Taixue and followed the main avenue out through the southern gate.
Along the way, they saw many commoners heading out in small groups, tools on their shoulders, faces relaxed as they prepared for spring plowing. Lu Su's smile deepened, then faded into quiet helplessness.
"If we could stabilize Guanzhong and restore the people's livelihood, two years at most would make the people prosperous and the army strong. Sweeping away the Cao bandits would be effortless. But…"
Jian Yong knew he was referring to the planned campaign against Cao this year. After a brief silence, he replied softly, "After all, the great plague recorded by later generations, four years from now, is too terrifying. There is no way to warn Cao. Only by pacifying the realm quickly can we prepare against pestilence."
They both sighed. Epidemics were the most dreadful of disasters.
And now that the course of history differed entirely from later records, no one could say whether that great plague would occur at all, or whether it might even come sooner.
Their instructors' robes stood out, so Zhang He, lounging atop a wall and idly watching the scenery, noticed them immediately and called out, "Ma Youchang, another two have gone south. That makes three groups of officials today. What's happening there?"
Leaning against the wall, Ma Su replied lazily, "I already told you. Lord Xuande is teaching agriculture to the Taixue students."
"Why would I lie?"
"If you're truly curious, write out the deployment of Cao's forces in Hebei and Yuzhou and present it to Lord Xuande yourself. That would be better than bickering with me here."
Zhang He fell silent, then said, "Ma Youchang, have you put on weight again?"
Ma Su flew into a rage. "If you don't want to go, then don't. My cheeks have merely filled out. Why insult me?"
Zhang He opened his mouth, glanced at Ma Su's noticeably rounder face, and could only shut up.
…
"Guanyinbi, have I lost some weight?"
Li Shimin measured the jade belt at his waist, a trace of melancholy on his face.
Empress Zhangsun gently wrapped her arms around him from behind and teasingly pinched his waist, making him squirm.
"Your Majesty has indeed grown leaner, but in vigor you are scarcely less than ten years ago."
Li Shimin's interest immediately sparked. "After pacifying the realm, I often lamented that there was no one left to challenge me. Now that I know how vast the world is, why not personally campaign to Liaodong? And the southern seas as well, I must see them in my lifetime."
"As for the king of Goguryeo, I will hang him before my eyes and have Chu Suiliang record his disgrace."
Thinking of the kowtowing, peace-begging "Tang Taizong" from the luminous screen, Li Shimin felt a surge of irritation.
The empress paid it little mind and barely listened to his grand ambitions. Leaning closer, she whispered by his ear, "Tonight, Your Majesty…"
Just as the atmosphere turned intimate, a creature of orange fur with faint stripes strutted in, head held high.
It ignored the whispering couple entirely, leapt onto the couch, enjoyed the rough texture beneath its paws, and stretched lazily.
Perfect for sharpening claws.
The mood shattered instantly.
"My ceremonial robe!" Li Shimin cried.
It was already the eleventh month, and with the Heaven-worship rites approaching, he had meant to ask the empress whether the robe needed adjusting. Instead, it had suffered this calamity.
Empress Zhangsun lunged to grab the culprit, scolding sharply, "Xianchan, come back!"
The cat paid no heed, slipping deftly past her hands and vanishing through the ventilation window without a backward glance.
Slamming the window shut, Li Shimin inspected the robe and finally relaxed. Only one thread had been pulled loose, easily mended. Still, he complained, "I don't oppose keeping cats in the palace, but why aren't they confined? Today it was only the robe. If one slipped into a grand court assembly, Wei Zheng would scold me again."
Checking the loose threads, the empress replied irritably, "The grand court is guarded. Even I must be announced to enter. How would a cat get in?"
"Why argue with an animal, Your Majesty?"
That was true enough. Li Shimin shook his head. If attendants had been present, the cat would never have wandered in.
He changed the subject. "Wuji recently requested the post of Vice Director of the Directorate of Education."
The empress, having seen the luminous screen as well, immediately understood. "Your Majesty intends to adopt the Song system?"
"The New Year approaches. It is fitting to reform the Taixue."
"The Taixue…" she mused, lowering her head to find needle and thread to mend the robe.
Not the Directorate of Education. Her brother had sought a post ranked fourth grade, subordinate only to the Director. From this, it seemed…
"So Zhangsun Wuji did not get his wish."
Since becoming empress, she rarely referred to him as her brother before the emperor, fearing any hint of partiality.
Li Shimin nodded indifferently. "I've entrusted the reforms to Keming and Ma Zhou."
A chief minister and a top examination graduate were well suited to the task. The empress nodded. "Good."
As the air grew warm again, Li Shimin leaned forward. "Then tonight…"
She glanced up, smiled faintly, and returned to her sewing.
At the same time, Ma Zhou finished his duties and left through the western gate of the imperial city.
Walking south along the straight street beneath the city walls, passing Buzhen Ward and Yanshou Ward, then cutting through Guangde Ward with the flow of people, the bustling West Market burst into view.
Crude bargaining shouts mingled with half-polished Tang court speech. The scent of lamb soup blended with foreign spices.
Camels and packhorses shared the road. Foreign merchants and Tang locals argued red-faced over money.
Ma Zhou wove through with practiced ease, turned a few corners, and sat on a long bench. Knocking on the table with no decorum at all, he shouted, "Same as usual. One bowl of lamb soup, no garlic. And half a flatbread stuffed with lamb. If it's not crisp, I'm not paying."
The soup arrived first. Ma Zhou took a small sip, then watched the cook, bare-chested, making flatbread.
The man slapped minced, marinated lamb onto the dough, spread a layer of pepper and fermented sauce, covered it with another sheet of dough, added more meat and sauce, repeating this two or three times before sealing it and brushing it with oil.
Several breads went into the oven together. The cook hauled on the bellows, the flames flaring fiercely.
The aroma grew from faint to rich, until when the oven opened it crashed over Ma Zhou like a tidal wave, obliterating all restraint.
"Half a flatbread, sir. Enjoy. We also have canned pears today…"
Remembering Sun the Divine Physician's warnings, Ma Zhou shook his head quickly, refusing even a glance at the tempting jars.
That thought led him to recall the physician's strictness with His Majesty. Sniffing the meat bread before him, Ma Zhou felt almost drunk.
"If His Majesty tasted this, wouldn't he be envious?"
It was not that the refined East Market was unaffordable. It was simply that the West Market offered better value.
No one here cared about such irreverent thoughts. They only cared whether Ma Zhou would finish quickly and free up the seat.
But today he was in no hurry. He ate slowly, savoring each bite, ears pricked to the chatter around him.
In a place crowded with commoners and foreign traders, no one cared about rules like silence while eating. Everyone casually shared whatever news they knew as seasoning.
"…Qinghai salt is a real money-maker…"
"No wonder those foreign merchants want land in Qinghai. Zhang Jiu, why don't you marry that merchant's daughter?"
"Bah! If I go to Qinghai, it'll be to make my own name. I'd have to be sick to marry a pale foreigner."
"Hush, don't let them hear…"
Not interested, Ma Zhou subtly shifted.
"…Are the six academies and two institutes really being changed?"
"Hu Laosan, how long has it been since you came to the market? Last year the Sage turned arithmetic into an institute and added engineering to the Directorate. It's six academies and three institutes now."
Ma Zhou raised an eyebrow. Was this the very rumor he had released?
Perfect seasoning for a meat flatbread.