Once Duan Ling has had his fill, he lays the chopsticks squarely across his food box and closes the lid on top of them.
“Cooking is just like composing an essay.” Zheng Yan says offhandedly from outside the door, “One must pay attention to the harmony between ingredients. Each dish mustn’t merely be spicy, or salty. Sometimes one must also make inquiries into where the diner came from, observe their face, guess at their preferences. The best food is often what’s most suitable.”
“Thank you for the advice,” Duan Ling replies with a smile. “Anyone who gets to marry you someday won’t ever want to go anywhere.”
Zheng Yan cracks a grin and teases him, “By nature we desire food and sex, as they say; if you stay with me, I guarantee you’ll get to eat everyday when you wake up, and there’ll also be things to eat when you lie down. When you’re sitting down I’ll feed you, and when you come to bed I’ll even hold you in my arms and feed you — and all of it will be delicacies one cannot hope to taste in the mortal world.”
Duan Ling knows if he continues this conversation Zheng Yan is never going to stop, and he’ll be the only one of them made fun of, so he can only change the subject stiffly. “Making food is also like running a country; governing a large country is like simmering a side dish.”
Zheng Yan comes over to take back the food box, and in return he gives Duan Ling a set of writing utensils, putting them down in front of him. “Come on, start writing. Your exam essay got soaked, and His Majesty ordered a new metro exam today.”
Duan Ling has actually thought about that issue before, and now he gives Zheng Yan a nod and spreads out the scroll. There’s a single line of text at the top — Bathed in rain, combed by wind, he brought stability to the land.
Duan Ling stares at it, feeling somewhat wordless.
It is a sentence from The Miscellaneous Sayings of Zhuangzi, out of a chapter titled “The Realm”, and not from the Four books and Five Classics. He has no idea if other people’s read it, but he’s read it before. Is everyone getting this same question? Why would they give them this sort of a question? How are the other examinees supposed to answer it?2
Zheng Yan doesn’t say anything to him either, he just wraps himself around the sword in his arms and dozes off on the daybed, clearly here as a proctor.
This is already beyond the scope of an exam for standard schooling. Duan Ling cannot help but be reminded of his father; he was fond of the Daoist School. In cooking, it’s governing a large country is like simmering a side dish; in training, it’s Paoding slaughters a cow by jointing; in conduct, it’s knowing others may be wise, but knowing oneself is wiser; in living, it’s those who are content are wealthy.3
That’s why Duan Ling is also fond of the Daoist school and read Zhuangzi. inside there’s the Dapeng which flaps its wings on great winds to climb ninety-thousand miles, chaos before the world was made, turtles freely living in the mud dragged their long tails to make tracks behind them, a tree that didn’t grow straight enough to be used for carpentry …4
This part about Yu the Great controlling the flood is in it too — “When Yu the Great used levies to stop the flooding, he dredged the Yangtze and Yellow rivers and joined up the water channels of the provinces, thus bringing three hundred great rivers, three thousand tributaries, and countless streams under control. Yu the Great carried the basket and worked the shovel with his own hands, and finally guided the waters accumulated over the land into the great rivers. Thus exhausted there was no longer fat left in his thighs, nor hair left on his legs. Bathed in rain, combed by wind, he brought stability to the land.”
This text is where the idiom “wind combed rain bathed” comes from.
“Did His Majesty come up with this question?”
“Just answer it. I’m an uneducated man — I can’t even read, so how am I supposed to know?”
“You must know how to read.” Duan Ling’s not even sure what to say to that.
Zheng Yan grins. “If you get named Primus, I too will ask you to become my master.”
Duan Ling thinks quietly to himself for a moment, unsure what Li Yanqiu had meant by making this the exam question. Is he really thinking about the flooding that plagues the land right now or is there some other meaning to it? He daren’t rashly make conjectures at what Li Yanqiu may have been thinking when he came up with the question, and writes down the words “clearing the way is better than blocking by force” — an attempt to answer it with the story behind Yu the Great’s flood mitigation method.
This time he finds himself unhindered by writer’s block, and as soon as his brush touches the page, the words simply flow. As he’s about a thousand words in, the maid comes in to light the lamps, but Zheng Yan hasn’t moved at all since he began, sitting there like a statue.
His heart remaining calm and clear, Duan Ling relates the management of water, then moves on to the management of a nation state. Popular sentiment is like water, and water can carry a boat just as well as it can capsize it; it can take a boat on its journey, but its waves can also swell to touch the firmament. Only by guiding its path can one govern and bring peace to the nation.
Once Duan Ling finishes writing, he feels his heart landing on solid ground, but now he starts to wonder where Wu Du is. Did he ask Zheng Yan to come keep him company?
“Where’s Wu Du?”
“He’s waiting right here,” Zheng Yan replies. Noting that Duan Ling has finished his essay, he comes over to collect it, sealing it in a paper tube before he turns to go.
As soon as Zheng Yan leaves, Duan Ling is tense again lest some assassin may arrive to finish him off. Fortunately, not a moment passes before Wu Du steps into the hall as though the two of them are changing shifts.
“What’s going on?” Duan Ling asks.
Wu Du is feeling anxious. He puts a finger in front of his mouth to go shh before sitting down next to Duan Ling. “We can’t go home yet. His Majesty is going to read your exam essay.”
Wu Du keeps his voice low and relates what happened earlier as quietly as possible.
Duan Ling’s brows are drawn tightly together. “I already promised Chancellor Mu, so we really can’t decline again. What do we do?”
“I’ll figure out something.”
“Or why don’t we … make it today.” Duan Ling has been under the strain for too long — best to rip the bandage off than prolong the agony, he thinks — so he may as well tell Li Yanqiu everything. But he really can’t be sure how things will turn out afterwards. They can expect a face-off against Cai Yan and Lang Junxia, but Duan Ling himself doesn’t have anything he can lean on except for two exam papers they stole from the Mongolians.
“Do you have the exam papers on you?”
Wu Du shows Duan Ling his sword, unravelling the strap tied to the scabbard to expose the papers’ yellowing edge. Duan Ling takes a deep breath, and nodding, seals it back up again.
“What do you want to do?” Wu Du asks.
Duan Ling’s heart is pounding. He wraps his arms around Wu Du and buries his face in his chest.
Wu Du gathers Duan Ling to himself. “Don’t worry, nobody can do a thing to you. If things don’t look right I’ll just take you with me and make a run for it.”
Duan Ling takes a deep breath, and with a shake of his head, he calms himself down.
“We’ll play it by ear,” Duan Ling says.
This will be the biggest challenge he’s had to face in his whole life thus far.
“If I don’t join the palace, what can Chancellor Mu do to me? If he forces me up against the wall, none of them are going to get out of this in one piece.”
Duan Ling falls silent for a beat, apprehensive beyond measure.
“Unless the chancellor and His Majesty change their minds,” Duan Ling replies, “Chancellor Mu will definitely force us into it.”
Gradually he begins to form an idea of what to do. He’s not sure if now is the best time, but at least they still have another path they can take.
“Someone’s searched our house,” Duan Ling says. “Wuluohou Mu knows about the exam papers, so they must have come up with some way to counter them. It was never going to be that easy. We can’t tell His Majesty the truth today — otherwise there’s a high possibility we’ll fall into a trap.”
Wu Du ponders this for a moment before nodding. “Did Zheng Yan say anything to you?”
Duan Ling shakes his head.
“It just occurred to me earlier today,” Wu Du says, “that when we came back the other day and I was putting away the stuff, Zheng Yan saw that too. Did you notice anything?”
Duan Ling thinks back to that night and slowly shakes his head. That night, Zheng Yan was indeed present, but did he know what Wu Du was putting into the case? He probably wasn’t paying attention that carefully, was he? Instantly Duan Ling’s back is covered in a sheen of cold sweat — Zheng Yan saw Lang Junxia open the sabre scabbard’s secret compartment, and he’d thought maybe something was kept inside it. No … a secret compartment was clearly for hiding stuff in.
At the time he even said, now what are we playing at?
Along with the fact that if Zheng Yan had paid attention to Wu Du, he might have seen what Wu Du put into the case, and if Zheng Yan is smart enough to tie together the expression Lang Junxia made before that, and Wu Du’s reaction at the time, he would have been able to guess that Wu Du had taken something out of the scabbard, and hidden it away!
“Whose side is Zheng Yan on, anyway?” Duan Ling asks.
“He mostly stays out of things. Even back then he’d only done some work for the Marquess of Huaiyin because he was friends with Yao Fu. I heard that some years ago the late emperor went to Huaiyin and became fast friends with him from the moment they met, and that’s how Zheng Yan ended up here in the palace. Why?”
Wu Du stares at Duan Ling. Duan Ling is considering Zheng Yan’s angle, where he stands. If his father was still alive, Zheng Yan would probably be one of the few people in the world who would get along with him. Wu Du, though, seems a bit jealous. “He didn’t grope you or anything, did he?”
“Of course not.” Duan Ling stares back at him awkwardly — that serious atmosphere that’s been hanging between them has suddenly gone a bit pear-shaped.
“Let me check.” Wu Du reaches out for Duan Ling.
Duan Ling whispers, “We’re in the palace!”
With all the touching and kneading, Duan Ling is at once uncomfortable, but then Wu Du is bending down to kiss him, and within several quick kisses Duan Ling’s breathing has begun to quicken.
“I want to go home,” Duan Ling says.
“Or we can just leave,” Wu Du says.
Go someplace without people and without so many things for them to worry about … Duan Ling’s heart is suddenly overtaken with a tenderness; no matter what, he still has an alternative, and this alternative is the man beside him. No matter who he is, no matter what he is, whether he’s Duan Ling or Wang Shan or Li Ruo … this man wouldn’t leave his side.
He raises his gaze towards Wu Du, and leaning in he gives Wu Du a kiss on the lips.
Wu Du’s entire face turns crimson, and covering his nose with one hand he turns away, somehow too shy to look at Duan Ling.
Duan Ling just laughs. “What are you blushing about?”
Wu Du can’t even get a word out anymore, and he waves for Duan Ling to stop it. Just then, footsteps approach. It’s Zheng Yan.
“Aiyoh. How about taking me along for some fun? It’ll give me a chance to teach you two some things.”
“Scram!” Wu Du says furiously.
But Duan Ling is smiling back at him. “Come here and let’s talk.”
Duan Ling keeps a smile on his face, but he’s thinking about how he can find out more about Zheng Yan.
There’s a twinkle in Zheng Yan’s eyes as he considers Duan Ling. “His Majesty would like to see you.”
Duan Ling’s heart does a somersault. Wu Du sends Duan Ling a glance, and Duan Ling nods at him.
And so Wu Du says, “I’ll take you there.”
I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎
There are multiple schools of thought / philosophy, and civil exams were based on the teachings of Laozi (Confucius) or his disciples. The question here is from the Daoist school, and that’s simply not part of standard teaching. Li Jianhong, however, has always been fond of the Daoist school. ↩︎
All these are from the Book of Dao. ↩︎
The Peng (the great Peng, or Dapeng) is a mythological creature that transformed from a Kun. ↩︎
Once Duan Ling has had his fill, he lays the chopsticks squarely across his food box and closes the lid on top of them.
“Cooking is just like composing an essay.” Zheng Yan says offhandedly from outside the door, “One must pay attention to the harmony between ingredients. Each dish mustn’t merely be spicy, or salty. Sometimes one must also make inquiries into where the diner came from, observe their face, guess at their preferences. The best food is often what’s most suitable.”
“Thank you for the advice,” Duan Ling replies with a smile. “Anyone who gets to marry you someday won’t ever want to go anywhere.”
Zheng Yan cracks a grin and teases him, “By nature we desire food and sex, as they say; if you stay with me, I guarantee you’ll get to eat everyday when you wake up, and there’ll also be things to eat when you lie down. When you’re sitting down I’ll feed you, and when you come to bed I’ll even hold you in my arms and feed you — and all of it will be delicacies one cannot hope to taste in the mortal world.”
Duan Ling knows if he continues this conversation Zheng Yan is never going to stop, and he’ll be the only one of them made fun of, so he can only change the subject stiffly. “Making food is also like running a country; governing a large country is like simmering a side dish.”
Zheng Yan comes over to take back the food box, and in return he gives Duan Ling a set of writing utensils, putting them down in front of him. “Come on, start writing. Your exam essay got soaked, and His Majesty ordered a new metro exam today.”
Duan Ling has actually thought about that issue before, and now he gives Zheng Yan a nod and spreads out the scroll. There’s a single line of text at the top — Bathed in rain, combed by wind, he brought stability to the land.
Duan Ling stares at it, feeling somewhat wordless.
It is a sentence from The Miscellaneous Sayings of Zhuangzi, out of a chapter titled “The Realm”, and not from the Four books and Five Classics. He has no idea if other people’s read it, but he’s read it before. Is everyone getting this same question? Why would they give them this sort of a question? How are the other examinees supposed to answer it?2
Zheng Yan doesn’t say anything to him either, he just wraps himself around the sword in his arms and dozes off on the daybed, clearly here as a proctor.
This is already beyond the scope of an exam for standard schooling. Duan Ling cannot help but be reminded of his father; he was fond of the Daoist School. In cooking, it’s governing a large country is like simmering a side dish; in training, it’s Paoding slaughters a cow by jointing; in conduct, it’s knowing others may be wise, but knowing oneself is wiser; in living, it’s those who are content are wealthy.3
That’s why Duan Ling is also fond of the Daoist school and read Zhuangzi. inside there’s the Dapeng which flaps its wings on great winds to climb ninety-thousand miles, chaos before the world was made, turtles freely living in the mud dragged their long tails to make tracks behind them, a tree that didn’t grow straight enough to be used for carpentry …4
This part about Yu the Great controlling the flood is in it too — “When Yu the Great used levies to stop the flooding, he dredged the Yangtze and Yellow rivers and joined up the water channels of the provinces, thus bringing three hundred great rivers, three thousand tributaries, and countless streams under control. Yu the Great carried the basket and worked the shovel with his own hands, and finally guided the waters accumulated over the land into the great rivers. Thus exhausted there was no longer fat left in his thighs, nor hair left on his legs. Bathed in rain, combed by wind, he brought stability to the land.”
This text is where the idiom “wind combed rain bathed” comes from.
“Did His Majesty come up with this question?”
“Just answer it. I’m an uneducated man — I can’t even read, so how am I supposed to know?”
“You must know how to read.” Duan Ling’s not even sure what to say to that.
Zheng Yan grins. “If you get named Primus, I too will ask you to become my master.”
Duan Ling thinks quietly to himself for a moment, unsure what Li Yanqiu had meant by making this the exam question. Is he really thinking about the flooding that plagues the land right now or is there some other meaning to it? He daren’t rashly make conjectures at what Li Yanqiu may have been thinking when he came up with the question, and writes down the words “clearing the way is better than blocking by force” — an attempt to answer it with the story behind Yu the Great’s flood mitigation method.
This time he finds himself unhindered by writer’s block, and as soon as his brush touches the page, the words simply flow. As he’s about a thousand words in, the maid comes in to light the lamps, but Zheng Yan hasn’t moved at all since he began, sitting there like a statue.
His heart remaining calm and clear, Duan Ling relates the management of water, then moves on to the management of a nation state. Popular sentiment is like water, and water can carry a boat just as well as it can capsize it; it can take a boat on its journey, but its waves can also swell to touch the firmament. Only by guiding its path can one govern and bring peace to the nation.
Once Duan Ling finishes writing, he feels his heart landing on solid ground, but now he starts to wonder where Wu Du is. Did he ask Zheng Yan to come keep him company?
“Where’s Wu Du?”
“He’s waiting right here,” Zheng Yan replies. Noting that Duan Ling has finished his essay, he comes over to collect it, sealing it in a paper tube before he turns to go.
As soon as Zheng Yan leaves, Duan Ling is tense again lest some assassin may arrive to finish him off. Fortunately, not a moment passes before Wu Du steps into the hall as though the two of them are changing shifts.
“What’s going on?” Duan Ling asks.
Wu Du is feeling anxious. He puts a finger in front of his mouth to go shh before sitting down next to Duan Ling. “We can’t go home yet. His Majesty is going to read your exam essay.”
Wu Du keeps his voice low and relates what happened earlier as quietly as possible.
Duan Ling’s brows are drawn tightly together. “I already promised Chancellor Mu, so we really can’t decline again. What do we do?”
“I’ll figure out something.”
“Or why don’t we … make it today.” Duan Ling has been under the strain for too long — best to rip the bandage off than prolong the agony, he thinks — so he may as well tell Li Yanqiu everything. But he really can’t be sure how things will turn out afterwards. They can expect a face-off against Cai Yan and Lang Junxia, but Duan Ling himself doesn’t have anything he can lean on except for two exam papers they stole from the Mongolians.
“Do you have the exam papers on you?”
Wu Du shows Duan Ling his sword, unravelling the strap tied to the scabbard to expose the papers’ yellowing edge. Duan Ling takes a deep breath, and nodding, seals it back up again.
“What do you want to do?” Wu Du asks.
Duan Ling’s heart is pounding. He wraps his arms around Wu Du and buries his face in his chest.
Wu Du gathers Duan Ling to himself. “Don’t worry, nobody can do a thing to you. If things don’t look right I’ll just take you with me and make a run for it.”
Duan Ling takes a deep breath, and with a shake of his head, he calms himself down.
“We’ll play it by ear,” Duan Ling says.
This will be the biggest challenge he’s had to face in his whole life thus far.
“If I don’t join the palace, what can Chancellor Mu do to me? If he forces me up against the wall, none of them are going to get out of this in one piece.”
Duan Ling falls silent for a beat, apprehensive beyond measure.
“Unless the chancellor and His Majesty change their minds,” Duan Ling replies, “Chancellor Mu will definitely force us into it.”
Gradually he begins to form an idea of what to do. He’s not sure if now is the best time, but at least they still have another path they can take.
“Someone’s searched our house,” Duan Ling says. “Wuluohou Mu knows about the exam papers, so they must have come up with some way to counter them. It was never going to be that easy. We can’t tell His Majesty the truth today — otherwise there’s a high possibility we’ll fall into a trap.”
Wu Du ponders this for a moment before nodding. “Did Zheng Yan say anything to you?”
Duan Ling shakes his head.
“It just occurred to me earlier today,” Wu Du says, “that when we came back the other day and I was putting away the stuff, Zheng Yan saw that too. Did you notice anything?”
Duan Ling thinks back to that night and slowly shakes his head. That night, Zheng Yan was indeed present, but did he know what Wu Du was putting into the case? He probably wasn’t paying attention that carefully, was he? Instantly Duan Ling’s back is covered in a sheen of cold sweat — Zheng Yan saw Lang Junxia open the sabre scabbard’s secret compartment, and he’d thought maybe something was kept inside it. No … a secret compartment was clearly for hiding stuff in.
At the time he even said, now what are we playing at?
Along with the fact that if Zheng Yan had paid attention to Wu Du, he might have seen what Wu Du put into the case, and if Zheng Yan is smart enough to tie together the expression Lang Junxia made before that, and Wu Du’s reaction at the time, he would have been able to guess that Wu Du had taken something out of the scabbard, and hidden it away!
“Whose side is Zheng Yan on, anyway?” Duan Ling asks.
“He mostly stays out of things. Even back then he’d only done some work for the Marquess of Huaiyin because he was friends with Yao Fu. I heard that some years ago the late emperor went to Huaiyin and became fast friends with him from the moment they met, and that’s how Zheng Yan ended up here in the palace. Why?”
Wu Du stares at Duan Ling. Duan Ling is considering Zheng Yan’s angle, where he stands. If his father was still alive, Zheng Yan would probably be one of the few people in the world who would get along with him. Wu Du, though, seems a bit jealous. “He didn’t grope you or anything, did he?”
“Of course not.” Duan Ling stares back at him awkwardly — that serious atmosphere that’s been hanging between them has suddenly gone a bit pear-shaped.
“Let me check.” Wu Du reaches out for Duan Ling.
Duan Ling whispers, “We’re in the palace!”
With all the touching and kneading, Duan Ling is at once uncomfortable, but then Wu Du is bending down to kiss him, and within several quick kisses Duan Ling’s breathing has begun to quicken.
“I want to go home,” Duan Ling says.
“Or we can just leave,” Wu Du says.
Go someplace without people and without so many things for them to worry about … Duan Ling’s heart is suddenly overtaken with a tenderness; no matter what, he still has an alternative, and this alternative is the man beside him. No matter who he is, no matter what he is, whether he’s Duan Ling or Wang Shan or Li Ruo … this man wouldn’t leave his side.
He raises his gaze towards Wu Du, and leaning in he gives Wu Du a kiss on the lips.
Wu Du’s entire face turns crimson, and covering his nose with one hand he turns away, somehow too shy to look at Duan Ling.
Duan Ling just laughs. “What are you blushing about?”
Wu Du can’t even get a word out anymore, and he waves for Duan Ling to stop it. Just then, footsteps approach. It’s Zheng Yan.
“Aiyoh. How about taking me along for some fun? It’ll give me a chance to teach you two some things.”
“Scram!” Wu Du says furiously.
But Duan Ling is smiling back at him. “Come here and let’s talk.”
Duan Ling keeps a smile on his face, but he’s thinking about how he can find out more about Zheng Yan.
There’s a twinkle in Zheng Yan’s eyes as he considers Duan Ling. “His Majesty would like to see you.”
Duan Ling’s heart does a somersault. Wu Du sends Duan Ling a glance, and Duan Ling nods at him.
And so Wu Du says, “I’ll take you there.”
I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎
There are multiple schools of thought / philosophy, and civil exams were based on the teachings of Laozi (Confucius) or his disciples. The question here is from the Daoist school, and that’s simply not part of standard teaching. Li Jianhong, however, has always been fond of the Daoist school. ↩︎
All these are from the Book of Dao. ↩︎
The Peng (the great Peng, or Dapeng) is a mythological creature that transformed from a Kun. ↩︎
