Shu Yun had no idea the ginseng soup was different. Yet it truly had a miraculous effect. After several days of living nervously in Xian’an Palace, her complexion had grown weary. But today, after drinking the soup, she entered the academy radiant with energy. Even during the morning lecture, she listened attentively and took many notes.
Princess Shuyue, having been scolded, could not bear the loss of face and used illness as an excuse to skip class. Shu Yun thus enjoyed peace. Since she had moved to Chuxiu Palace, Pei Yue had no more concerns and instructed her to dine in the library hall in the evenings. Shu Yun was glad—she could rest at noon.
In the afternoon came Master Yan’s class. He was strict, never smiling, and all the students feared him. That day he taught the timeless essay Record of Yueyang Tower. Its grandeur and vigor made it stirring to read aloud. Last time, this same master had punished Shu Yun by making her stand outside the corridor. She dared not be careless now, sitting upright and reciting along.
Xie Yun secretly glanced at Shu Yun several times. Unable to hide her thoughts, and frustrated at not discovering Shu Yun’s background, she decided to cause trouble. Seizing the moment when Master Yan asked questions, she boldly spoke: “Master, last night Sister Shu said she could recite this essay word for word. Why not have her recite it before us, to set an example?”
Shu Yun was so startled she dropped her brush. She had never said such a thing. She stared at Xie Yun in panic.
Xie Yun blinked innocently, then even fanned the flames by asking Li Ying at the far left: “Elder Sister Li, isn’t that so?”
Li Ying did not refute her, nor even look at Shu Yun. She said calmly, “Yes, that is what she said.”
If the two joined forces against someone, that person had no escape. The others watched gleefully, while only Cui Fenglin cast Shu Yun a worried glance.
Across the gauze curtain, Pei Yansheng was about to rise to defend Shu Yun, but Pei Jiangcheng pulled him back. “Xie Yun and Li Ying are the sort who, the more you protect her, the more they press. If she cannot recite, it’s no great matter—she’ll just get a beating with the ruler.”
Pei Yansheng clenched his teeth and sat down.
Master Yan leaned back in his chair, his gaze falling on Shu Yun. “Was it you?”
Shu Yun was the only one who dared to nap in his class, so his impression of her was poor.
Shu Yun closed her eyes in despair, then rose and bowed. “Master, I cannot recite it well.”
His face grew stern. “I have lectured for an hour. Surely you remember something? Or were you dozing again?”
The class burst into laughter.
Shu Yun’s face flushed crimson. She had no choice but to try. Nervous, she could not recall the opening for a long while. After stammering, she finally began. Fortunately, she had concentrated today and memorized some. She recited the first section, but no matter how she tried, she could not recall the rest. She took a deep breath. “Master, this is my first time reading this essay. I only remember this much…”
It was her way of resisting Xie Yun’s false accusation.
But Xie Yun would not admit fault. She rose, looking aggrieved. “Master, I clearly heard her reciting last night. Perhaps she did not memorize it fully and now seeks excuses. Never mind, I spoke out of turn. Punish me instead.” She held out her hand.
Master Yan glanced at them both, then said evenly, “Tomorrow you two will recite together. Whoever fails will be beaten.” He pointed at Shu Yun with the ruler. “Today’s portion is noted. If you cannot recite it tomorrow, you will both be punished.”
Shu Yun’s little face fell.
Xie Yun curled her lips in smug satisfaction; she had long anticipated the teacher would do this. She had memorized this essay back when she was ten years old. As for Shu Yun, watching her clumsy, halting recitation, it was obvious this was her first time reading it—how much could she possibly remember after just one night?
At that moment, Li Ying suddenly lifted her gaze toward Xie Yun’s arrogant profile. “Teacher, in my view, a single Record of Yueyang Tower hardly shows off Sister Xie’s talent. At the very least, we should add Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng. If not that, then reciting Zuo Zhuan would do.”
Xie Yun’s smile froze. She turned and shot Li Ying a vicious glare. Though she had memorized Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng many times, its ornate diction, strict parallelism, and abundance of rare characters made it easy to slip up. If Shu Yun failed, no one would care. But if she faltered, it would be a humiliating disgrace.
This was the mantis stalking the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind.
Having sparred with Li Ying for years, Xie Yun would never concede so easily. She sneered, “So, Sister Li intends to join the contest too?”
Li Ying nodded. “Naturally.”
Xie Yun lifted her chin proudly. “Then let’s add Ode to Ink Bamboo.” That piece was written by Song dynasty scholar Su Zhe—whose name happened to echo Li Ying’s grandfather, Minister Li Zhe.
Li Ying narrowed her eyes.
The classroom grew lively, everyone voicing opinions, until it evolved into a challenge for all: recite one essay to avoid punishment, recite them all to earn a reward. Several more classics were added to the list.
These works had all been taught last year, so each student could choose a familiar one to pass. The real target was Shu Yun, the newcomer.
After class, Shu Yun clutched the syllabus with a bitter expression. Of the five assigned pieces, she couldn’t recite a single one.
The sun dipped westward, its golden rays spilling warmth across the courtyard. Listless, she hugged her satchel and headed out of Yinghua Hall—only to be blocked by Xie Yun and a few girls.
Seeing their unfriendly faces, Shu Yun stepped back, bumping her spine against the doorframe with a hiss of pain. She eyed Xie Yun warily.
“What do you want now?”
Xie Yun, dressed in a short-sleeved robe and a twelve-paneled Xiang skirt, her fair skin and beauty dazzling, brushed back her fringe. “Good sister, don’t misunderstand. I’m only doing this for your own good.”
Shu Yun shot her a cold glance, turning her face away, her palms clenched tight. “Miss Xie, I bear you no grudge. Why scheme against me? You know I’ve only just begun learning, that I know nothing, yet you make such a spectacle of it.”
Xie Yun, seeing her distressed expression, felt her morning anger dissipate. Bullying such a poor student was especially amusing. She chuckled. “You really are ungrateful. I only wish to spur you on since we live together in Chuxiu Palace. You don’t appreciate it. Ah well—tonight you’d better hang yourself from the beam and prick your thigh with a needle, or tomorrow will be miserable indeed.” With a sway of her figure, Xie Yun and her companions departed.
Shu Yun stood dazed beneath the lattice of light and shadow. Only when most had gone did she drag her stiff steps away. Leaving Yinghua Hall, she walked south along the palace path. Just then, Pei Yansheng came running breathlessly after her.
“Sister Yun, I studied all these essays last year. I’ll teach you to recite them.”
Pei Yansheng’s sweat-drenched body carried a strong odor that washed over her. Shu Yun felt uneasy and stepped back. “Heir, I’ll find my own way.”
Pei Yan stood before her, bracing his waist as he urged, “You don’t understand the meaning, so your recitation isn’t smooth. Once I explain it to you, you’ll learn twice as fast with half the effort.”
Before his words settled, Pei Jiangcheng’s mocking tone drifted from behind. Holding an ivory fan, he strolled over lazily. “How did you manage to provoke Xie Yun and Li Ying? Don’t you know everyone in the capital avoids those two?”
When they were engaged, Pei Jiangcheng had always thought Shu Yun unworthy of him. Now that the betrothal was broken, he found himself bewitched by her face.
Shu Yun ignored him completely. She bowed politely to Pei Yansheng. “Heir, I appreciate your kindness, but I’ll take my leave.” Hugging her satchel, she hurried into the woods.
Pei Yansheng wanted to chase after her, but Pei Jiangcheng grabbed him. This time Pei Yansheng lost his patience. “Pei Jiangcheng, enough! You cast her aside—yet you won’t allow me to pursue her?”
Pei Jiangcheng’s thin eyelids lowered, revealing a vicious glare. “You’re deliberately opposing me, aren’t you? There are countless women in the world—why must you choose her?”
Pei Yansheng snorted angrily, shaking him off. “Could it be you regret it?”
Pei Jiangcheng’s face twitched.
Pei Yansheng, thinking he had struck a nerve, lifted his chin. “I’ll tell you this: once I marry her, I’ll cherish her in the palm of my hand. You’ll have nothing but jealousy.”
Enraged and humiliated, Pei Jiangcheng chased after him with blows. The two scuffled for quite a while before palace attendants separated them, each returning to his residence in a foul mood.
Meanwhile, Shu Yun slipped into the woods, followed by her little maid, who led her to the library pavilion.
Unexpectedly, Pei Yue was already waiting inside, unhurried. That day he wore a sky-blue robe, his face softened, less austere than usual, more gentle. “What’s this? Who’s upset our little Yun Yun?” He rarely saw her looking so downcast; today she entered like a frostbitten eggplant.
His tone made Shu Yun laugh despite herself. Embarrassed, she pressed her lips together, gazing at his calm, steady eyes, and whispered her complaint. “I fear I’ll be punished tomorrow.”
Pei Yue’s lips curved slowly. He rubbed her head. “No one dares punish you.” His voice was mild, yet carried an inexplicable authority, even intimidation. “Come, sit down and eat first.”
At some point, a wide table had been set in the library. Pei Yue sat opposite her as attendants brought dishes. Shu Yun set down her satchel, turned aside to wash her hands, her mind still echoing with the way he had just addressed her.
Yun Yun… He must think of her as a child.
After washing, she sat with cheeks flushed, full of guilt. “Seventh Master, I owe you an apology. When we first met, I lied about my name. ‘Su’ is my mother’s surname.”
First met? Trying to erase what happened at Zhaixing Pavilion?
Pei Yue gazed at her with deep meaning. “No matter. Su Yun Yun will do.”
Shu Yun’s face flushed crimson. Pressing her burning cheeks, she said, “My name isn’t Su Yun Yun. But once, when my mother quarreled with my father, she gave me the name Su…”
Thinking of her childhood nickname, Shu Yun couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud. Her voice broke off abruptly.
Pei Yue stared straight at her. “Su what?”
Shu Yun lowered her gaze and shook her head. “Nothing. Please, have your meal.”
But Pei Yue’s interest was piqued. His fingers tapped lightly on the table as he teased, “If you don’t tell me, there’ll be no good food tomorrow.” His tone carried playful mockery.
Shu Yun, both angry and embarrassed, pouted. “Can’t you find another way to threaten me?”
Pei Yue broke into a broad smile. It had been a long time since he laughed so freely. Being with this young girl was simply delightful. He asked in all seriousness, “Besides food, what else do you care about? Teach me, and I’ll remember it for next time.”
Shu Yun doubled over with laughter. After a while, under his expectant gaze, she whispered timidly, “My childhood name is *Jiao Jiao*.”
Pei Yue repeated the two syllables. “Truly fitting.”
So delicate, so spoiled.
After the meal, Pei Yue led her around the library pavilion to walk off the food, then sat with her at the desk beneath the window to review lessons.
Pei Yue prided himself on his intelligence—nothing in the world could stump him. Yet teaching Shu Yun to memorize texts repeatedly tested his patience. Of the five essays, Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng was the hardest, while Peach Blossom Spring was the easiest. He chose Peach Blossom Spring for her. First, he explained its meaning, then guided her through memorization: he recited a passage, and she repeated it. But whenever he stopped, she faltered, only gazing at him with innocent, beguiling eyes.
“Am I too stupid?” she asked softly.
Pei Yue looked at the pitiful girl and rubbed his brow. “Isn’t your father the Dean of the Imperial Academy? I’ve heard he’s very strict with his students.”
Shu Yun understood his implication and boldly replied, “My father is strict with others, but lenient with me.”
Pei Yue laughed aloud, secretly pondering a solution. To intervene directly in the academy’s teaching would violate his principles. Yet to let Shu Yun be beaten was unthinkable.
Seeing his troubled expression, Shu Yun felt oddly relieved. She packed away the book, tucked it into her satchel, and looked at him with rosy cheeks. “Seventh Master, it’s fine. A few strikes only hurt for a moment.”
Better left unsaid—for now, Pei Yue’s heart ached even more.
Yan Ming was a hot-tempered teacher. Last time Shu Yun offended him, a single lash of the ruler had made her cry. If she failed to recite tomorrow, she would be struck twenty times. Her tender hands would surely be red and swollen.
He could already picture the little girl sobbing and running to him with complaints.
“Jiao Jiao, tell me—what can you recite?”
The name Jiao Jiao rolled off his tongue so naturally, so smoothly. Shu Yun’s heart pounded like a drum. She avoided his earnest gaze, arms drooping, racking her brain for anything she could recall.
Time slipped by. Across from him, the girl scratched her forehead again and again. Just as Pei Yue was about to give up, Shu Yun’s expression suddenly lit up.
“I remember now.” Shu Yun clapped her hands. “I can recite Treatise on Painting.”
Pei Yue looked puzzled. “Treatise on Painting? Forgive my ignorance—what essay is that?”
Shu Yun chuckled. “I’ll write it for you.”
She lifted her sleeve and took up the brush. Seeing her so confident, Pei Yue himself prepared the ink. At first he only wanted to see what essay she would produce, but gradually he was captivated by her demeanor. The little girl, who usually feigned laziness and lacked confidence when it came to studying, seemed transformed—her dark eyes sparkled with brilliance.
Each craft has its own mastery; one should never dismiss another’s strengths. Shu Yun’s passion was painting, and because of that, she could easily recite this essay. As for the famous literary pieces, they truly put her at a disadvantage.
When Shu Yun finished in one breath, Pei Yue took the paper. What met his eyes was a piece of small regular script, vigorous and sharp, the handwriting excellent, the essay even better. Beginning with the Wei and Jin dynasties and continuing to recent times, it started from banquets and introduced the great masters of painting and their immortal works. Though titled Treatise on Painting, its diction was lofty, full of quotations and references, brimming with literary brilliance.
At the end was the signature “Master Shaochuan.” Pei Yue vaguely recalled hearing of him. Shu Yun proudly explained, “That is my grandfather. This essay was written by him. In his youth he traveled the world, crossing mountains and rivers. When he reached Prince Teng’s Pavilion in Yuzhang, he was inspired and composed Treatise on Painting in imitation of Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng. It was meant as a humble offering, yet it drew countless talents from Jiangnan to follow his example. The original manuscript hangs in my father’s study. Since I grew up painting with my father, I memorized this essay long ago.”
Her grandfather was a man of great talent, passing the civil service exams at a young age and full of ambition. His only regret was obeying his parents’ command to marry her grandmother. They were ill-matched—her grandmother was calculating, which he despised. In middle age, disillusioned, he left home in anger and never returned.
Pei Yue studied the essay carefully, naturally sensing the undertone of frustrated genius. “This essay is excellent.”
Shu Yun beamed with joy.
“And the calligraphy is fine as well.”
Shu Yun blushed.
Pei Yue spread the paper aside to let the ink dry. “Will you gift it to me?”
Shu Yun shyly lifted her eyes. “As long as you don’t dislike it, I’d be glad to.”
Pei Yue carefully stored the scroll, then had attendants escort Shu Yun back to Chuxiu Palace. Afterward, he returned to the imperial study and personally copied the essay, handing it to Liu Kui.
That night, Liu Kui, serving outside, overheard enough to grasp the situation. The next morning, when reviewing memorials at the Office of Transmission, he casually added, “Go see if Hanlin scholar Master Yan is on duty. If he has leisure, have him come to the Directorate of Ceremonies.”
Though Liu Kui spoke politely, Yan Ming dared not be negligent. The Directorate of Ceremonies rarely summoned him directly, so he hurried over. Liu Kui received him warmly, exchanged pleasantries, then asked about conditions at Yinghua Hall.
Seeing Liu Kui’s mild expression, Yan Ming set aside his worries. “The imperial grandchildren are fairly well-behaved, and the princesses even more so. Of course, there are mischievous ones, but fortunately I’ve managed to keep order, and no trouble has arisen yet.”
Liu Kui’s inquiry must have come either from the retired emperor or the reigning one. Yan Ming dared neither to complain nor boast, so he answered cautiously.
Liu Kui nodded. “Lord Yan, I know your abilities well—otherwise I wouldn’t have recommended you to head the academy. By the way, yesterday I happened to meet the heir of Prince Linchuan. The young prince muttered something about you testing their recitation of famous essays this afternoon?”
Master Yan’s temple twitched; he couldn’t grasp Liu Kui’s intent, his heart unsettled. “There is such a matter,” he admitted, then explained the reason.
Liu Kui’s smile did not change. He slowly handed over the copied Treatise on Painting. “Take a look at this essay—what do you think?”
Master Yan received it and at once recognized the imperial handwriting. Assuming it was Pei Yue’s own composition, he naturally praised it to the skies, calling it unmatched above and below. Liu Kui did not expose him, only smiled in silence. When Master Yan finally glanced at the signature, his expression showed a trace of embarrassment.
Liu Kui asked again, “What does Master think of this essay?”
This time, Master Yan’s tone grew much more serious. “It is indeed a rare masterpiece.”
“In that case, could it serve as one of the classics for this afternoon’s examination?”
Master Yan hesitated. “But this essay is not included in the syllabus I assigned.”
Liu Kui fixed his gaze on him. “Now it can be.”