Lord Pei could hardly contain his joy. To have an elder Hanlin scholar personally instruct his two grandsons was an opportunity few could ever hope for.
Without hesitation, he sent word to accept the invitation, promising that Huai and Jin would arrive on time.
He muttered to himself with a smile, “Blood is thicker than water; after all, he still cares about his kin.”
Seeing his grandfather so delighted, Pei Shaohuai did not agree with his thoughts, but he remained silent, not wanting to dampen the old man’s excitement.
Shaohuai thought to himself: if the Secretary’s residence truly intended to draw close to the Pei household, to treat them as family, why wait until now to extend such a grand offer? They had lived in the capital all these years, with only occasional polite exchanges. Now, suddenly, they offer this “great benefit.” Even if it is not a scheme in disguise, it is hardly born of genuine goodwill.
He still remembered that on his first birthday, the ladies of the Secretary’s household praised Lin’s elegance and remarked that the child resembled her. On the surface, it was a compliment; in truth, it was a veiled insult, mocking that the Pei heir was born to a merchant’s daughter and bore the face of a shrewd trader.
Shaohuai had been unbothered, but his mother was deeply hurt for a long time, feeling she had lowered her son’s status. Every mention of the Secretary’s residence reminded her of that humiliation.
In the original story, the brothers went to study at the Secretary’s residence, but they had only a basic understanding of characters before starting. Now, Huai and Jin had already memorized Mencius and the Great Learning.
The book describes Shaohuai entering the Secretary’s study and finding many young heirs from prominent families—twenty or thirty children—filling the hall. Most were of exceptional birth.
If one threw a brick randomly, it would likely hit several of the heirs.
This was no mere teaching of scholarship by an elder Hanlin; the Secretary’s residence was using him as a lure, setting a long line to catch big fish. And these were very big fish indeed.
In the story, Shaohuai, still immature in character, felt out of place among these young heirs. He complained that his clothing wasn’t luxurious enough, his jade ornaments weren’t perfect, and paid little attention to learning. Back at home, he threw tantrums in his grandmother’s courtyard, refusing to continue studying, claiming he couldn’t afford to lose face.
The Pei household had long hoped that Shaohuai would succeed in the civil service exams and restore the family’s standing. Hearing his tantrums, the matriarch was anxious but assumed it was childish behavior, deciding to indulge him for now, hoping he would grow sensible with age.
From that point on, Shaohuai’s attire and accessories were crafted at great expense to match those of a marquis’s son. Being the only precious heir, a little extra cost was justified. Shaohuai settled down somewhat.
Over time, he learned little academically, but he mastered the habits of a spoiled young noble. He failed to realize one fact: at the declining Pei household, his position in this study was inconspicuous; he was merely a background character.
He believed that as long as he hosted lavishly, others would be impressed. Yet every day, another heir displayed a jade cup here, a gilded bowl there… How could he compete? His envy and competitiveness grew stronger.
Meanwhile, Jin felt even more uncomfortable at the study. Belonging to a minor branch of the Pei household and born to a maid, he was marginalized, even avoided by his elder brother Shaohuai. He was a perpetual outsider.
The Secretary’s residence arranged seating to put Jin in a remote corner. He could hardly hear the lessons, and the elder Hanlin paid him no attention.
Though naturally intelligent with an exceptional memory, Jin had no guidance, and without a teacher, months later, he performed poorly in the school’s examinations. The Secretary’s residence judged him unfit for the civil service path and recommended that Lord Pei make other plans.
Lord Pei accepted the evaluation without argument, bringing Jin home.
Fortunately, Jin had a wise young mother who understood her son’s abilities. She wiped away her tears and asked seriously: “Jin’er, tell me honestly—you like studying, don’t you?”
“I do… but they all say I can’t learn,” the young boy admitted, doubting himself.
“Then are you willing to endure hardships for it?” she asked again.
Jin nodded vigorously. “I’m not afraid of hard work.”
“Then I will find a way to help you, no matter what it takes,” she said. “But how far you go will depend on yourself.”
She then went to Sister Lian at the Xu household, appealing to her past goodwill to help her brother receive a chance to study. Lian, soft-hearted, agreed. With her grandfather and husband’s support, Jin was brought into their home to study alongside his elder cousin.
From there, Jin progressed steadily, passing six successive exams and ultimately achieving first place in the highest civil service exam. Yet these struggles made him quiet and reserved, keeping his thoughts to himself.
Shaohuai, reflecting, thought to himself: this “elder Hanlin scholar teaching” was hardly a godsend or a stroke of luck. The Hanlin’s skill and knowledge served the more prominent heirs. The Secretary’s residence had sent invitations to many noble households, including the Peis, only to avoid embarrassment.
Plainly put, Shaohuai and Jin were there merely to fill seats. The true heirs, with wealth and influence, were the ones being courted.
The Secretary’s study was a wolf’s den. Shaohuai, at seven years old, was too small and weak to contend with these young wolves.
His and Jin’s first priority was survival—gathering strength and growing up safely. In noble families, eldest sons were trained from a young age for leadership; they shed childishness early. These little wolves could bite, if necessary.
Shaohuai did not oppose his grandfather’s decision. He reasoned that they should first attend the study, observe, and then withdraw once they understood the situation.
First, opposing the grandfather could backfire. Second, since these were the young wolves, he might as well meet them now while they were still small and manageable.
Lin, knowing her sons were going to the Secretary’s study, felt uneasy but said nothing. After a short pause, she asked Aunt Shen to prepare fine silks and made new outfits for both boys.
On the day of departure, Shaohuai wore his usual indigo robe embroidered with subtle bamboo patterns and a silver-edged sash. Though not new, it was comfortable and well-fitted. “Mother made this herself; it’s both comfortable and stylish,” he said happily.
Lin adjusted his collar. “You know how to make me happy. Aren’t you afraid of being the only one in old clothes?”
“This isn’t old! Such fine silk, such embroidery. We’re going to study, not compete in style,” he replied.
Since it was their first day, Ying also came to see him off. “When you’re there, don’t expect me to send tea. But take this sachet I made,” she said.
Her sewing was crude, and many threads were loose. She explained awkwardly, “I was in a hurry last night… but the herbs inside are grown by me. They smell nice.”
Shaohuai smiled, putting the sachet in his pocket. “It’s rare enough that you even took the trouble to sew this for me.”
After some playful teasing with Ying, Jin came out of the courtyard, and the brothers climbed into the carriage to the Secretary’s residence.
Upon arrival, a servant led them through the residence. Shaohuai sneaked a few glances at the layout. On the surface, it was simple, but the choice of flowers, exotic plants, and bamboo walls revealed a refined taste that money alone could not buy.
The study itself, newly built in the bamboo grove of the rear garden, was called the “Zhuxian Study.”
Many young students were already there, aged seven to ten, all dressed in fine clothes with jade ornaments. Their manners were already sophisticated, revealing careful upbringing.
Most were children of prominent families. Only a few, like Shaohuai and Jin, were there merely to fill the seats.
The young heirs chatted easily, sharing stories or arranging games, sometimes mentioning their family’s positions and recent activities—subtle social networking, whether taught or learned. Shaohuai realized he couldn’t rely on his adult-mindedness to succeed here.
True foresight was required, or troubles would arise.
A few acknowledged Shaohuai with nods, but none approached to speak.
Before the elder Hanlin arrived, Pei Shaoyu, seventeen-year-old grandson of Secretary Pei, appeared at the front. “Greetings, young masters. My grandfather assigned me to assist here. Academic matters, see the tutor; other matters, see me. I am always in the side room.”
Seeing Huai and Jin, he greeted them. “Since we are cousins, perhaps one day you can bring your sisters along to visit as well.”
“Of course,” Shaohuai replied cautiously. “But the young ladies are busy painting or playing music; they might not come yet.”
After this brief exchange, Shaoyu attended to the other young heirs.
When seats were arranged, Jin was placed in the corner. Shaohuai swapped seats to sit beside him.
“Why did you come, elder brother?” Jin whispered.
“I can’t get used to having someone else next to me,” Shaohuai murmured. “If brothers aren’t united outside, others will look down on us.”
By “others,” he meant the Secretary’s residence.
Jin replied softly, “This study doesn’t feel like a place to focus on learning. Something’s off.” The boy was too young to articulate the subtle tension, only sensing it vaguely.
The elder Hanlin, a small but learned man, lectured with ease, explaining context, meaning, and literary references without needing a book. His teaching was structured, clear, and thorough.
Yet in practice, he mostly attended to the front row, ignoring students in the back—clearly, the young heirs were his focus; the rest were merely supplemental.
The brothers, seated in the back, could barely hear, so they took out their own books to study privately.
“Back when Master Cao was here, I complained he only taught memorization,” Jin whispered. “Now I see I didn’t appreciate him; at least he taught wholeheartedly.”
“Don’t worry, Jin,” Shaohuai said. “Father will return soon; then we can quietly withdraw.”
Several days later, Shaohuai had a good understanding of the study. Pei Bingyuan had returned from his leave.
Hearing that Lord Pei had sent the boys to the Secretary’s study, he frowned slightly but said nothing, tacitly approving given the elder Hanlin’s involvement.
Shaohuai, however, pretended to be aggrieved. “I understand grandfather’s intentions, but that study isn’t a quiet place for learning. It’s full of heirs chatting endlessly. We learn nothing!”
Bingyuan frowned. “Is it really so, Huai’er?”
Shaohuai continued, “And since we sit at the back, we hear nothing. When we ask the tutor afterward, it’s too late—he doesn’t teach us.”
“What humiliation!” Bingyuan exclaimed.
He immediately spoke to Lord Pei and quickly sent word to the Secretary’s residence: the boys had caught colds and would no longer attend, to avoid infecting other heirs.
By acting decisively, Bingyuan avoided grandfatherly hesitation over family ties.
Yet if they didn’t attend, they couldn’t continue studying at home either.
Shaohuai suggested: “I could study under Brother-in-Law’s Master Duan, who taught two successful scholars. He must be highly learned. If possible, I’d like to study there.”
Jin agreed: “I wish to study there too.”
The next day, Sister Lian visited her maternal home. Xu Zhan, now a father and slightly more mature, was also there. He remained gentle, humble, and attentive to his wife and son.
Young Yan Gui sat on his father’s lap, playing with a small porcelain tiger.
Lin praised, “Such a clever little one—he’ll grow up to be a scholar like his father.”
Xu Zhan smiled. “Let’s hope he’s as smart as his two young uncles.”
Sister Lian felt slightly nauseated and discreetly covered her mouth. Lin noticed she hadn’t touched her tea and whispered, “Is something wrong?”
Blushing, Sister Lian nodded slightly. Lin had the tea replaced with warm water and softly chided, “Next time, let me prepare something suitable for you first.”
“Not yet three months, Mother-in-law told me to keep quiet,” Lian replied.
Lin understood: “Your mother-in-law was just thinking ahead.”
After this brief interruption, the conversation returned to Pei Bingyuan asking about sending Huai and Jin to study under Xu Zhan.
Xu Zhan hesitated, then said: “We are all family, so of course I would agree. But…”
He explained that his teacher was ill, wheelchair-bound for decades, and eccentric. He only accepted students he favored; even Xu Zhan’s father could not persuade him otherwise.
“So, if your two nephews wish to study there, I can only recommend them. Success depends on their own aptitude and the teacher’s favor,” Xu Zhan said sincerely.
His attitude was genuine and earnest.