The square in front of the hall is already filled with metro exam graduates, and a scholar from the Hanlin Academy is doing a roll call. Not far from him, Huang Jian nods in Duan Ling’s direction. “Here you are!”
“You’re here too.” Duan Ling takes his meaning, and nods back at Huang Jian as he presses his thumbprint onto the roll call sheet.
Huang Jian asks him, “Where’s our teacher?”
Yesterday had been such a busy day that Duan Ling hasn’t spared a single thought to the exam at all — somehow he hasn’t even asked about how his teacher’s other student did on the exam. Everyone was running around like chickens with their heads cut off, and Mu Kuangda didn’t even return to the estate. Duan Ling relates this to Huang Jian now, and they step aside from the crowd to have that conversation. Soon, another two people are approaching Huang Jian, smiling at Duan Ling as they do so.
“My shidi,” Huang Jian introduces Duan Ling to them, and Duan Ling takes a half step back to give them a bow.
Those two bow at Duan Ling as well, and Huang Jian raises a hand to introduce them to Duan Ling, “Qin Xuguang, Zeng Yongnuo.”
The one named Qin Xuguang is already in his thirties, while Zeng Yongnuo isn’t thirty yet. Out of the four of them, Qin Xuguang is the eldest, and they all refer to him as “Qinxiong”; however, throughout their conversation, the two newcomers are exceedingly courteous towards Huang Jian and Duan Ling.
Huang Jian’s father was a Salt-Control Censor. When Duan Ling’s grandfather was on the throne, Censor Huang was a major official of Great Chen’s imperial court. Later, he was accused of embezzlement, and died in jail, but after several years had passed, Mu Kuangda overturned the verdict for him and sent Huang Jian to school in Jiangzhou. With his years of schooling finished, Huang Jian has also somehow ended up taking the palace exam.
Qin Xuguang, on the other hand, is the son of Huizhou’s magistrate. His parents are still around, and he’s hoping to become an official by passing the exams in the capital. Zeng Yongnuo is the only one of them to come from a salt merchant’s family in Jiangnan and can be narrowly considered of the same social stratum as Duan Ling, an “apothecary’s son”.
They exchange some pleasantries before Huang Jian asks Duan Ling, “Did I hear right that someone came to the city from a border station yesterday?”
“Yes,” Duan Ling replies, and it’s been such an ordeal that Duan Ling looks downright miserable about the whole thing; the furrow between his brows has been set in place since the night before and it’s still there. Come to think of it, he’s not even sure what to make of this whole business — the court is filled to the brim with officials and military officers and none of them could come up with anything, while a bunch of metro graduates who hasn’t even passed the palace exam are here getting anxious over affairs of state.
Duan Ling explains the situation to Huang Jian, and they all nod at this.
Duan Ling asks Huang Jian, “What do you think?”
And so Huang Jian replies, “Our teacher must have some plan to deal with it. We may assume that he’ll make a statement about it today.”
In front of everyone’s face, Duan Ling knows that Huang Jian will naturally not reveal too many opinions lest somebody says he’s “talking about the emperor behind his back” before he even takes the palace exam.
“When you’re done, come see me.” Huang Jian says, “We have much to talk about.”
“We should all get to know each other after the palace exam,” Zeng Yongnuo says with a smile.
“Well of course we should,” Duan Ling says, smiling back, thinking well that’s certainly lucky for you all.
Qin Xuguang says, “I heard there’s a noodle shop here in the city called ‘Best Noodles In the Realm’, and what a boast that is. Why don’t we try it tonight, and book a private dining room?”
Duan Ling is thinking you can’t possibly get a spot in the private room, stop daydreaming … when he hears the gong going off inside the hall. He says something polite, planning to see about that private room when they get there, before he follows the rest of them into the Hall of Peerless Harmony.
There are a hundred and twelve metro graduates altogether, and when they’re all moving at the same time, it’s quite the sight, crowding the entrance to the hall, making it impossible to get through. Usually on a day like today, they should have bathed, meditated, burned incense, and prayed to the gods before they’re allowed to enter the palace. And yet these are desperate times that call for expedience, so they’ve been exempted from all those convoluted rites.
It’s the beginning of summer, unavoidably stuffy and hot for everyone, extremely uncomfortable.
As he’s lining up to get in, Zheng Yan comes out of a side door, whistles, and says to Duan Ling, “Come this way!”
Duan Ling is a bit lost for words.
“Hurry it up.” Zheng Yan says, “If His Majesty finds out I’m going to get yelled at again.”
Duan Ling can but brace himself and walks toward Zheng Yan while everyone stares, and leaves via a shortcut Zheng Yan takes him through.
Just as soon as he’s inside, he finds Wu Du waiting behind a pillar. Duan Ling cracks a smile, and he’s about to say something when Wu Du puts a finger in front of his mouth and shushes him. He points at one of the desks to mean Duan Ling should just take his seat.
A hundred desks lined up in the hall make for quite a sight. Duan Ling takes a deep breath and sits down. Soon enough, another person enters the room through the backdoor. It’s Mu Qing.
“Aiya. I sent them to get you this morning so you wouldn’t have had to line up. How come you only got here just now?”
“I sent them away,” Wu Du replies. “Let him get some more sleep.”
Duan Ling asks Mu Qing, “You didn’t go home last night?”
“Nope. I brought a snack for you. Auntie said that if we eat it we’ll come in first and get to be Primus.”
Duan Ling breaks out laughing. Mu Qing hands him a paper packet containing a fish shaped peach blossom pastry, to borrow the allegory of “carp leaping the Dragon Gate”.2 And so they split the pastry between them, with Duan Ling taking the fish head and Mu Qing eating the rest.
“I don’t need to be Primus,” Duan Ling says smilingly, “Secondus is good enough for me.”
Mu Qing and Duan Ling grin at each other, and they’re still grinning when Duan Ling notices someone else coming in — but this time it’s Lang Junxia.
Lang Junxia is holding the Qingfengjian in its sheath when he walks into the palace exam grounds, and both Mu Qing and Duan Ling fall quiet as he comes in. But then Lang Junxia is walking towards one of the pillars, stopping to stand behind it. He sends Duan Ling a glance, his eyes falling on Duan Ling’s left hand.
Duan Ling gives his sleeve a tug, hiding the red rosary-pea bracelet Wu Du gave him.
Lang Junxia’s expression doesn’t change a smidgen. He merely watches Duan Ling quietly for a beat before turning his eyes away, no longer looking at him.
And in that very instant, Duan Ling can almost feel what Lang Junxia is thinking about.
He’s searching for the string of Buddhist prayer beads he gave him, but since the day Duan Ling took it from him, he’s almost never worn them.
“Where’s Chang Liujun?” Zheng Yan asks.
“I passed by the imperial study earlier,” Lang Junxia replies, “and he was still in there, so he probably won’t make it.”
A second round of gongs ring out from behind the hall to announce the arrival of the exam proctors, who blow into the hall like a gust of wind — it is Chang Liujun, dressed in head-to-toe black with a mask over his face.
Wu Du says, “How rare, we’re actually all gathered.”
“We’ll be here for the entire examination,” Chang Liujun says. “Work hard on your exam.”
Each of the four great assassins stood in front of a pillar, watching over the exam grounds from its four corners. That’s when Duan Ling realises, to his surprise, that they’re today’s proctors.
The gong is rung for the third time, and the palace doors open before the metro graduates stream in, all lined up, each finding their own seat and sitting down, with Zheng Yan and Chang Liujun staring at their every move in case of any cheating. Lang Junxia’s mind is seemingly elsewhere the whole time as he stares at Duan Ling.
Wu Du is also watching Duan Ling, glancing every once in a while at Lang Junxia. They’re each standing in a corner, and when their eyes meet, Lang Junxia can only look away.
Soon enough, the main doors open, and radiant morning sunlight shines into the room.
Behind them, someone sing-sings, “The Son of Heaven is here —! Kowtow!”
The examinees rise from their seats immediately and get on their knees. “Long live Your Majesty!”
Li Yanqiu passes between them, his fluttering golden robes delivering a breeze in their wake as he takes the throne. He says casually, “Rise.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty —”
The examinees get up and sit behind their desks.
Li Yanqiu’s gaze sweeps over the examination hall, resting finally on Duan Ling’s face. He says absently, “Begin.”
The Grand Secretary spreads out a sheet of paper and recites:
“I once heard that governance begins with the righteous path, and proceeds with virtue …”
No one makes a sound. Every examinee is holding their breath as they listen.
“… And yet, inside the beams are rotten, outside the people are starving, violence threatens our borders …”
Duan Ling feels his heart rising sharply up to his throat, and he suddenly understands how Li Yanqiu must feel. Li Yanqiu’s grief is clawing its way out between the lines of this exam topic.
“… Do state what you would do, and have no fear of reprisal. So ask His Majesty.”
It’s so quiet in the hall that one can hear a pin drop. The eunuch follows with another sing-song of words, “The Son of Heaven is leaving—”
The examinees get up once more and kowtow, saying long live Your Majesty as Li Yanqiu leaves in its echo. The Grand Secretary bids them all to rise, and everyone begins answering the question.
The meaning of Li Yanqiu’s topic is: presently our empire is threatened from both within and without, and though I have already done my best, I have no idea where the root of the problem is. Great Chen is a tottering regime, and the court is at the precipice of collapse; the commoners are malnourished while foreign tribes frequently invade our borders to the north. Who can save me? Who can save Great Chen? You must answer to your best ability, and do not fear offending your emperor.
Once the Grand Secretary leaves, it seems some people would wish to speak, but then suddenly someone does say something, and the speaker turns out to be Zheng Yan.
“Everyone, the cornerstones of our future Great Chen.” Zheng Yan says solemnly, “When you’re writing your exam please do not discuss among yourselves, otherwise if you’re turned into a blood splatter in the examination hall, it’ll be quite a difficult thing for us to explain to His Majesty.”
“Pfft,” Duan Ling laughs, and taking a sheet of paper from the pile he raises his brush and begins to write, starting with the first line — all land under heaven belongs to the emperor; all vassals are subjects of the throne.3
When it comes down to it, Great Chen’s problems are rooted in: one, its issues with sovereign territory, and two, its issues with farmland. The Treaty of Shangzi has been costing them dearly for years, and the barbarians to the north invade frequently. A combination of these two things have almost emptied Great Chen’s treasury. Years of corruption in the south have caused the commoners to lose their farmland and left them destitute, while social classes have widened the distance between the rich and the poor. The lands must be reallocated once more, but resisting foreign invaders and pacifying internal strife is of immediate vital importance …
Time flies by. At first, Duan Ling thought of repeating what he wrote during the metro exam the first time around, but after seriously thinking about it, he decided to begin with the Battle of Shangjing, two years prior.
Why did his father die? Who killed him?
If the late emperor is still around, what would the world look like today?
Over the past two years, Duan Ling has learned too much — he can even face arguments from those who opposed his father with equanimity now. After so many years of fighting with the empire sending an endless stream of troops towards the north to battle foreign tribes, the war went on and on, and as soon as they were finished fighting Liao, it was Yuan’s turn to invade. He’s witnessed his father’s contributions and heroic deeds, and the adoration he feels for him hasn’t changed a smidgen.
But on his way to the capital he’d also seen starvation among the commoners on the central plains, Xichuan’s deficit, as well as the attitude of landowners in Jiangzhou.
Great Chen needs people like his father, but it also needs someone else to maintain this long-disrepaired carriage so that it won’t fall apart no matter what force may strike it.
Duan Ling is beginning to understand the hopes Li Jianhong once placed in him. He’d called Duan Ling “Your Majesty”, and it was no joke. For him, Duan Ling was his lamp in the dark, the boat he sat upon in his crossing of the great Yangtze. His father only ever knew how to make war; that was his duty and his destiny. The only thing that released him from this duty was death.
As for Duan Ling, his duty is right here — on paper.
“What do you keep looking at him for?” Wu Du’s voice suddenly rings out from the northwest corner.
Every last examinee pauses. Duan Ling looks up with a start, but no one answers him, so no one knows who Wu Du is talking about.
“If you look at him again,” Wu Du’s voice echoes in the quiet palace hall, “then do not blame me for drawing my sword.”
Everyone’s heart is pounding, not sure if anyone would actually get turned into the “blood splatter” Zheng Yan spoke of. They wait for a little while, but Wu Du doesn’t speak again. Only then does everyone return to writing.
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. ↩︎
You can read about the carp leaping through the dragon gate myth here. ↩︎
A quote from the Book of Songs. The meaning isn’t “it all belongs to the emperor so he can do whatever he wants” but “the emperor is responsible for all of it”. ↩︎
The square in front of the hall is already filled with metro exam graduates, and a scholar from the Hanlin Academy is doing a roll call. Not far from him, Huang Jian nods in Duan Ling’s direction. “Here you are!”
“You’re here too.” Duan Ling takes his meaning, and nods back at Huang Jian as he presses his thumbprint onto the roll call sheet.
Huang Jian asks him, “Where’s our teacher?”
Yesterday had been such a busy day that Duan Ling hasn’t spared a single thought to the exam at all — somehow he hasn’t even asked about how his teacher’s other student did on the exam. Everyone was running around like chickens with their heads cut off, and Mu Kuangda didn’t even return to the estate. Duan Ling relates this to Huang Jian now, and they step aside from the crowd to have that conversation. Soon, another two people are approaching Huang Jian, smiling at Duan Ling as they do so.
“My shidi,” Huang Jian introduces Duan Ling to them, and Duan Ling takes a half step back to give them a bow.
Those two bow at Duan Ling as well, and Huang Jian raises a hand to introduce them to Duan Ling, “Qin Xuguang, Zeng Yongnuo.”
The one named Qin Xuguang is already in his thirties, while Zeng Yongnuo isn’t thirty yet. Out of the four of them, Qin Xuguang is the eldest, and they all refer to him as “Qinxiong”; however, throughout their conversation, the two newcomers are exceedingly courteous towards Huang Jian and Duan Ling.
Huang Jian’s father was a Salt-Control Censor. When Duan Ling’s grandfather was on the throne, Censor Huang was a major official of Great Chen’s imperial court. Later, he was accused of embezzlement, and died in jail, but after several years had passed, Mu Kuangda overturned the verdict for him and sent Huang Jian to school in Jiangzhou. With his years of schooling finished, Huang Jian has also somehow ended up taking the palace exam.
Qin Xuguang, on the other hand, is the son of Huizhou’s magistrate. His parents are still around, and he’s hoping to become an official by passing the exams in the capital. Zeng Yongnuo is the only one of them to come from a salt merchant’s family in Jiangnan and can be narrowly considered of the same social stratum as Duan Ling, an “apothecary’s son”.
They exchange some pleasantries before Huang Jian asks Duan Ling, “Did I hear right that someone came to the city from a border station yesterday?”
“Yes,” Duan Ling replies, and it’s been such an ordeal that Duan Ling looks downright miserable about the whole thing; the furrow between his brows has been set in place since the night before and it’s still there. Come to think of it, he’s not even sure what to make of this whole business — the court is filled to the brim with officials and military officers and none of them could come up with anything, while a bunch of metro graduates who hasn’t even passed the palace exam are here getting anxious over affairs of state.
Duan Ling explains the situation to Huang Jian, and they all nod at this.
Duan Ling asks Huang Jian, “What do you think?”
And so Huang Jian replies, “Our teacher must have some plan to deal with it. We may assume that he’ll make a statement about it today.”
In front of everyone’s face, Duan Ling knows that Huang Jian will naturally not reveal too many opinions lest somebody says he’s “talking about the emperor behind his back” before he even takes the palace exam.
“When you’re done, come see me.” Huang Jian says, “We have much to talk about.”
“We should all get to know each other after the palace exam,” Zeng Yongnuo says with a smile.
“Well of course we should,” Duan Ling says, smiling back, thinking well that’s certainly lucky for you all.
Qin Xuguang says, “I heard there’s a noodle shop here in the city called ‘Best Noodles In the Realm’, and what a boast that is. Why don’t we try it tonight, and book a private dining room?”
Duan Ling is thinking you can’t possibly get a spot in the private room, stop daydreaming … when he hears the gong going off inside the hall. He says something polite, planning to see about that private room when they get there, before he follows the rest of them into the Hall of Peerless Harmony.
There are a hundred and twelve metro graduates altogether, and when they’re all moving at the same time, it’s quite the sight, crowding the entrance to the hall, making it impossible to get through. Usually on a day like today, they should have bathed, meditated, burned incense, and prayed to the gods before they’re allowed to enter the palace. And yet these are desperate times that call for expedience, so they’ve been exempted from all those convoluted rites.
It’s the beginning of summer, unavoidably stuffy and hot for everyone, extremely uncomfortable.
As he’s lining up to get in, Zheng Yan comes out of a side door, whistles, and says to Duan Ling, “Come this way!”
Duan Ling is a bit lost for words.
“Hurry it up.” Zheng Yan says, “If His Majesty finds out I’m going to get yelled at again.”
Duan Ling can but brace himself and walks toward Zheng Yan while everyone stares, and leaves via a shortcut Zheng Yan takes him through.
Just as soon as he’s inside, he finds Wu Du waiting behind a pillar. Duan Ling cracks a smile, and he’s about to say something when Wu Du puts a finger in front of his mouth and shushes him. He points at one of the desks to mean Duan Ling should just take his seat.
A hundred desks lined up in the hall make for quite a sight. Duan Ling takes a deep breath and sits down. Soon enough, another person enters the room through the backdoor. It’s Mu Qing.
“Aiya. I sent them to get you this morning so you wouldn’t have had to line up. How come you only got here just now?”
“I sent them away,” Wu Du replies. “Let him get some more sleep.”
Duan Ling asks Mu Qing, “You didn’t go home last night?”
“Nope. I brought a snack for you. Auntie said that if we eat it we’ll come in first and get to be Primus.”
Duan Ling breaks out laughing. Mu Qing hands him a paper packet containing a fish shaped peach blossom pastry, to borrow the allegory of “carp leaping the Dragon Gate”.2 And so they split the pastry between them, with Duan Ling taking the fish head and Mu Qing eating the rest.
“I don’t need to be Primus,” Duan Ling says smilingly, “Secondus is good enough for me.”
Mu Qing and Duan Ling grin at each other, and they’re still grinning when Duan Ling notices someone else coming in — but this time it’s Lang Junxia.
Lang Junxia is holding the Qingfengjian in its sheath when he walks into the palace exam grounds, and both Mu Qing and Duan Ling fall quiet as he comes in. But then Lang Junxia is walking towards one of the pillars, stopping to stand behind it. He sends Duan Ling a glance, his eyes falling on Duan Ling’s left hand.
Duan Ling gives his sleeve a tug, hiding the red rosary-pea bracelet Wu Du gave him.
Lang Junxia’s expression doesn’t change a smidgen. He merely watches Duan Ling quietly for a beat before turning his eyes away, no longer looking at him.
And in that very instant, Duan Ling can almost feel what Lang Junxia is thinking about.
He’s searching for the string of Buddhist prayer beads he gave him, but since the day Duan Ling took it from him, he’s almost never worn them.
“Where’s Chang Liujun?” Zheng Yan asks.
“I passed by the imperial study earlier,” Lang Junxia replies, “and he was still in there, so he probably won’t make it.”
A second round of gongs ring out from behind the hall to announce the arrival of the exam proctors, who blow into the hall like a gust of wind — it is Chang Liujun, dressed in head-to-toe black with a mask over his face.
Wu Du says, “How rare, we’re actually all gathered.”
“We’ll be here for the entire examination,” Chang Liujun says. “Work hard on your exam.”
Each of the four great assassins stood in front of a pillar, watching over the exam grounds from its four corners. That’s when Duan Ling realises, to his surprise, that they’re today’s proctors.
The gong is rung for the third time, and the palace doors open before the metro graduates stream in, all lined up, each finding their own seat and sitting down, with Zheng Yan and Chang Liujun staring at their every move in case of any cheating. Lang Junxia’s mind is seemingly elsewhere the whole time as he stares at Duan Ling.
Wu Du is also watching Duan Ling, glancing every once in a while at Lang Junxia. They’re each standing in a corner, and when their eyes meet, Lang Junxia can only look away.
Soon enough, the main doors open, and radiant morning sunlight shines into the room.
Behind them, someone sing-sings, “The Son of Heaven is here —! Kowtow!”
The examinees rise from their seats immediately and get on their knees. “Long live Your Majesty!”
Li Yanqiu passes between them, his fluttering golden robes delivering a breeze in their wake as he takes the throne. He says casually, “Rise.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty —”
The examinees get up and sit behind their desks.
Li Yanqiu’s gaze sweeps over the examination hall, resting finally on Duan Ling’s face. He says absently, “Begin.”
The Grand Secretary spreads out a sheet of paper and recites:
“I once heard that governance begins with the righteous path, and proceeds with virtue …”
No one makes a sound. Every examinee is holding their breath as they listen.
“… And yet, inside the beams are rotten, outside the people are starving, violence threatens our borders …”
Duan Ling feels his heart rising sharply up to his throat, and he suddenly understands how Li Yanqiu must feel. Li Yanqiu’s grief is clawing its way out between the lines of this exam topic.
“… Do state what you would do, and have no fear of reprisal. So ask His Majesty.”
It’s so quiet in the hall that one can hear a pin drop. The eunuch follows with another sing-song of words, “The Son of Heaven is leaving—”
The examinees get up once more and kowtow, saying long live Your Majesty as Li Yanqiu leaves in its echo. The Grand Secretary bids them all to rise, and everyone begins answering the question.
The meaning of Li Yanqiu’s topic is: presently our empire is threatened from both within and without, and though I have already done my best, I have no idea where the root of the problem is. Great Chen is a tottering regime, and the court is at the precipice of collapse; the commoners are malnourished while foreign tribes frequently invade our borders to the north. Who can save me? Who can save Great Chen? You must answer to your best ability, and do not fear offending your emperor.
Once the Grand Secretary leaves, it seems some people would wish to speak, but then suddenly someone does say something, and the speaker turns out to be Zheng Yan.
“Everyone, the cornerstones of our future Great Chen.” Zheng Yan says solemnly, “When you’re writing your exam please do not discuss among yourselves, otherwise if you’re turned into a blood splatter in the examination hall, it’ll be quite a difficult thing for us to explain to His Majesty.”
“Pfft,” Duan Ling laughs, and taking a sheet of paper from the pile he raises his brush and begins to write, starting with the first line — all land under heaven belongs to the emperor; all vassals are subjects of the throne.3
When it comes down to it, Great Chen’s problems are rooted in: one, its issues with sovereign territory, and two, its issues with farmland. The Treaty of Shangzi has been costing them dearly for years, and the barbarians to the north invade frequently. A combination of these two things have almost emptied Great Chen’s treasury. Years of corruption in the south have caused the commoners to lose their farmland and left them destitute, while social classes have widened the distance between the rich and the poor. The lands must be reallocated once more, but resisting foreign invaders and pacifying internal strife is of immediate vital importance …
Time flies by. At first, Duan Ling thought of repeating what he wrote during the metro exam the first time around, but after seriously thinking about it, he decided to begin with the Battle of Shangjing, two years prior.
Why did his father die? Who killed him?
If the late emperor is still around, what would the world look like today?
Over the past two years, Duan Ling has learned too much — he can even face arguments from those who opposed his father with equanimity now. After so many years of fighting with the empire sending an endless stream of troops towards the north to battle foreign tribes, the war went on and on, and as soon as they were finished fighting Liao, it was Yuan’s turn to invade. He’s witnessed his father’s contributions and heroic deeds, and the adoration he feels for him hasn’t changed a smidgen.
But on his way to the capital he’d also seen starvation among the commoners on the central plains, Xichuan’s deficit, as well as the attitude of landowners in Jiangzhou.
Great Chen needs people like his father, but it also needs someone else to maintain this long-disrepaired carriage so that it won’t fall apart no matter what force may strike it.
Duan Ling is beginning to understand the hopes Li Jianhong once placed in him. He’d called Duan Ling “Your Majesty”, and it was no joke. For him, Duan Ling was his lamp in the dark, the boat he sat upon in his crossing of the great Yangtze. His father only ever knew how to make war; that was his duty and his destiny. The only thing that released him from this duty was death.
As for Duan Ling, his duty is right here — on paper.
“What do you keep looking at him for?” Wu Du’s voice suddenly rings out from the northwest corner.
Every last examinee pauses. Duan Ling looks up with a start, but no one answers him, so no one knows who Wu Du is talking about.
“If you look at him again,” Wu Du’s voice echoes in the quiet palace hall, “then do not blame me for drawing my sword.”
Everyone’s heart is pounding, not sure if anyone would actually get turned into the “blood splatter” Zheng Yan spoke of. They wait for a little while, but Wu Du doesn’t speak again. Only then does everyone return to writing.
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. ↩︎
You can read about the carp leaping through the dragon gate myth here. ↩︎
A quote from the Book of Songs. The meaning isn’t “it all belongs to the emperor so he can do whatever he wants” but “the emperor is responsible for all of it”. ↩︎
