It’s raining cats and dogs in Shangjing today, and everyone walking its streets has to wade through water. Horses gallop past, bringing up splashes of water as they step through the puddles, as lightning flashes and thunder roars. Li Jianhong is wearing the same old commoners’ garb he always wears, his pant legs rolled up above a pair of wooden sandals, carrying Duan Ling as he walks down the street. On his father’s back, Duan Ling holds up an umbrella while they check the list of successful examinees posted on the wall.
The area in front of the notice is packed with servants. The two of them are the only ones who have come personally, staring up at the list of names.
“My name is there. The eighth one! The eighth one!”
“Well, of course my son would have done pretty well.”
Duan Ling’s yelling eighth one eighth one, while Li Jianhong remains amused as he carries him into Biyong College. The gatekeeper comes over. “Servants are not allowed inside. We have people here who can settle your young master.”
“He’s my dad,” Duan Ling says to the gatekeeper.
The gatekeeper looks Li Jianhong up and down several times, but in the end he has no choice but to let him in.
They are nearly completely drenched. Biyong College students don’t check in until the afternoon, so Duan Ling gets his name plaque, signs in, and finds his room. Once the rain begins to subside Li Jianhong tells his son to wait in his room while he goes home to get everything he needs.
After the bed is made and the blankets are folded, and he’s finished drinking the ginger soup to ward off the cold, Duan Ling says to his father, “You should go home. It’s probably like the Illustrious Hall here at night and they’ll serve dinner.”
Li Jianhong gives him a nod. There are more and more people in the rooms. He’s put on a bamboo hat, hiding a small part of his face as he leans on the outside of the window, talking to Duan Ling.
“Make sure you know where your things are, don’t put stuff down just anywhere. School isn’t like at home, and if you misplace something no one’s going to look for it for you.”
Duan Ling makes an affirmative hum. Li Jianhong adds, “Make sure you eat all three meals on time.”
More and more young men have checked in, greeting each other outside. Duan Ling goes uh huh a few times, and walks Li Jianhong out the backdoor, holding his hand. He’s even less willing to part with Li Jianhong than Li Jianhong is with him, but he knows he must hold back his tears. Otherwise, once he starts crying, Li Jianhong will only nag him more.
“You should go home, dad. I can take care of myself.”
It’s been only several months since Li Jianhong’s arrival, but it’s made Duan Ling nearly forget how he ever managed to get through his years at the Illustrious Hall.
“You go.” Li Jianhong says, “Don’t worry about me anymore. I’ll come see you when I have time.”
Duan Ling gives him a little nod, then he suddenly runs up to him, wraps his arms around his waist, and rubs his face against his chest. Thereupon Duan Ling lets him go and runs away without a word.
Li Jianhong stands outside the door, staring at the emptiness of the back courtyard.
“Don’t feel so bad about parting from him now,” the gatekeeper advises, “your son’s going to study and gain scholarly honour, yeah? Go home, go home.”
Slowly, Li Jianhong lets out a long breath; his wooden sandals clack across the flagstone pavement.
Red-eyed, Duan Ling runs along the other side of the wall, chasing Li Jianhong, peering over the wall as he goes; only once his father has gone far does he lean back into a corner, rub his eyes, and turn to go.
The night is clear after the rain, with a fresh scent in the air that lingers. Duan Ling returns to his room but it’s to find Cai Wen making the other bed, Cai Yan standing by his side, watching.
“Don’t put your things down just anywhere,” Cai Wen tells him, “this isn’t your house, if you misplace things no one’s going to help you look.”
Duan Ling can’t help but laugh, so Cai Wen nods at him. “You two take care of each other.”
Duan Ling goes up to Cai Yan and the two of them give each other a pat. Cai Wen leaves a few more instructions along with a bit of money, and then he’s gone.
“You’re here too,” Cai Yan says.
Duan Ling saw that Cai Yan came in first and knew that he would definitely be here, but he never imagined that they’d be roommates. Cai Yan adds, “Helian Bo is across the way. He has a room to himself.”
So Duan Ling runs over to greet Helian Bo. Helian Bo simply nods and says to Duan Ling, “Batu, go … gone.”
“Uh huh.” Duan Ling nods back. “He’ll be fine.”
Helian Bo starts to smile. He points at himself, then he does a “walking” gesture with his fingers. Duan Ling gets what he means and says, “Let’s go get food.”
Lots of kids at Biyong College know each other. The Han family didn’t come; they say he’s returned to Zhongjing. After spending months apart, everyone seems as though they’ve had a strange talisman pasted onto them the moment they entered Biyong College, causing the young men to become more mature and poised, adding the honorific xiong to the surnames they use to greet each other … and each time they meet face to face they’ll also salute, fist in hand, with a nod and a smile.
Meeting his schoolmates again has attenuated the sadness he feels about separating from his father somewhat, but once he’s finished eating dinner and returns to lie down in his room, Duan Ling starts to feel lonely again, tossing and turning on his bed. He misses the warmth of his father’s body, the temperature of his skin emanating through a thin undershirt, and being able to feel the rise and fall of his breath and his powerful heartbeat when his head is pillowed on his father’s arm.
“Mosquitoes?” Cai Yan asks.
“No.” Duan Ling doesn’t dare move again lest he disturbs Cai Yan’s sleep. It’s the first time he’s ever shared a room with a schoolmate, and he’s trying his best to be careful, not wanting to bother him.
“Homesick?” Cai Yan asks.
“No way.” Duan Ling replies, “When we were at the Illustrious Hall, wasn’t I living all alone as well?”
“Uh huh. Where’s that child-kept husband of yours? He’s not back yet?”
“No.” Duan Ling recalls the ludicrous things he said to Cai Yan once upon a time and can’t help but find it hilarious. “My dad’s here, and he’s sent him to get some work done.”
Cai Yan turns his head and glances at Duan Ling; the moonlight happens to shine into the room and onto his pretty face. Duan Ling is looking back at Cai Yan when Cai Yan says, “We don’t look alike, do we?”
Duan Ling says blankly, “I’m sorry?”
“My brother and I. Everyone always says that.”
But Duan Ling wasn’t thinking about that — he was just thinking how Cai Yan has grown. Since Cai Yan has said it though, Duan Ling makes a sound of agreement.
“We don’t have the same mom,” Cai Yan explains.
“Oh.”
Cai Wen has heavy features with big thick eyebrows, but Cai Yan looks quite delicate, with the lofty air of a scholar. He’s rather standoffish to most people, but he tends to look after Duan Ling, if only because Duan Ling isn’t really aggressive to begin with, and not competitive at all, thus making Cai Yan feel a sense of protectiveness towards the younger and weaker as a matter of course.
A disjointed sound comes from the outside, starting and stopping.
“Is someone playing the flute?” Baffled, Duan Ling climbs out of bed and opens the back window. The scent of summer flowers wafts through the air.
Cai Yan sits up and stares into the distance. The flute notes don’t flow, as though someone just starting to learn the fingering is trying to remember where to put their fingers as they play. It’s being played so badly it’s barely tolerable, and occasionally the notes are even accompanied by the sound of saliva blocking the embouchure hole.
Both Cai Yan and Duan Ling are wordless in the face of it.
“Joyful Reunion?” Duan Ling has finally managed to make out the melody. “It’s Joyful Reunion!”
Cai Yan drops his forehead into his hand, dumbfounded. “This is the most horrible song I have ever heard.”
While the man outside plays, Duan Ling suffers through every note, so bad that he wishes he can simply play the rest for him. However, that flute-player doesn’t seem to understand his feelings at all; it grows ever more enthusiastic, quite like the player is happy to entertain himself.
“Who is this?” Cai Yan is basically covered in goosebumps by this point.
Duan Ling doesn’t say anything. He’s guessed who it is, but he can’t help but keep his mirth to himself — he really doesn’t dare say.
“Stop playing!” In the room next door, Helian Bo finally can’t take it anymore and snarls that out the window, then right afterwards, throws a flower pot behind his words.
“Are you going to let us sleep or what?!” Cai Yan yells.
The flute finally stops playing, but Duan Ling doesn’t close the widow.
Cai Yan says, “Come on, let’s go to sleep. We have to get up early tomorrow.”
And so Duan Ling tucks himself in and quietly curls up in his blankets, and closes his eyes thinking about Li Jianhong. In his dream, a fallen blossom drifts gently down, spinning as it falls through the window to land softly by his pillow. A small stone hits the window frame, making a quiet sound, and the window closes on its own.
“The goal of higher education is to enhance the honourable part of one’s character …”
“Knowing one’s end goal gives one firm convictions, having firm convictions makes one steady and patient …”
“There is a root and branches to everything, a start and an end to every event; when one knows what comes first and what comes after, one is closer to the Way …”2
Biyong college is administered by four officials. The Dean is a kindly, chubby middle-aged man who makes the final decision on everything that happens in the college; two Directors of Academic Affairs supervise the studies; one Director of Student Relations decides on any request made by the students. These officials report directly to the Southern Administration, and it is the highest institution in Shangjing for the grooming of scholars.
There are also several Professors of the Five Classics who act as lecturers, as well as a number of teaching assistants; all positions from Dean to Teaching Assistant are ranked officials of Liao, and yet they’re all Han. Whenever students happen to run into them in the galleries they must stop and salute respectfully.
“Uh huh.” Whenever this happens, either the Dean or the Professor will give the student a nod, yet the nasal tone of this sound is slightly different. When the student they run into is Han, one can tell that it sounds like uh huh but when meeting a Khitan it would be mm hmm.3
New life has begun; they’ve gone from black sky yellow earth, vast universe all chaos to the goal of higher education is to enhance the honourable part of one’s character, from where there are three walking shoulder to shoulder, one must be able to be my teacher to if there is marbled meat in the kitchen and well-fed horses in the stable, but the people look hungry and there are dead bodies from famine in the streets… 4 The summer sun remains the same, the people he goes to school with remain the same, but Duan Ling feels as though everything around him has been turned on its head.
Aside from studying books and writing essays, those attending Biyong College must also practice the six Confucian arts: rites, music, archery, chariotry, calligraphy, and mathematics. Chariotry was abolished long ago and so it has been changed to horseback riding. Everyday, Duan Ling has to get up very early and assemble with other students outside the training grounds to practice archery first thing in the morning. They no longer teach horseback riding and archery in Chen for the most part, unlike in Liao, which put more weight on martial skills.
It’s the first day of horseback riding and a student has already broken an arm, coming back wailing. Duan Ling looks on with trepidation, for fear he’d get stomped into a meat pie by a horse. Fortunately Li Jianhong has taught him how to mount a horse, and with a simple swing of his leg he’s up, securely seated.
“Pretty good!” The coach says, “You’ve ridden a horse before. Come down! Your turn!”
Cai Yan gets on the horse, and it flails about and throws him off, leaving him in quite a state. Duan Ling rushes forward and supports him at his side as he walks back. Right at that moment, someone outside comes in and whispers something to the coach. The coach looks startled for a moment before walking off to find the Dean, leaving behind a bunch of chatting young men in front of the gallery and a single baffled horse.
“Are we done?” The young men won’t stop grousing, their muscles sore from exercise. Everyone is stretching their arms and can’t wait to get back as quickly as possible to lie down.
A dulled, muffled sound is coming from far away, and it seems as though horses are galloping down the street outside.
“What’s happened?” Duan Ling asks.
Cai Yan doesn’t know either. Soon, the Dean comes in, looking rather pale. “All classes are temporarily cancelled today. Everyone, go wait in your rooms, don’t come out unless we call you.”
The young men are in an uproar, but the Director of Academic Affairs says to them, straight faced, “What are you all doing?”
They immediately fall quiet again. The Dean bows first, and all the young men return the bow simultaneously and line up to leave the area. Today’s studies thus ends for the day. The instant they go back to their rooms, some students make visits to others’ rooms while some discuss among themselves. Helian Bo comes over to see Duan Ling, beckoning at him.
“What … what is?” Helian Bo looks at Duan Ling, as in, do you know?
Cai Yan is standing in the courtyard applying a wet, cold towel to his face. “Maybe the fighting’s about to start.”
Before he even finishes speaking, another muffled boom comes from far away. Duan Ling is surprised, and the students all cry out. Duan Ling takes Helian Bo’s sleeve. “Over this way!”
Helian Bo knows he means to go to the corner of the courtyard. He bends over, puts his hands on his knees, and Duan Ling steps on his back to climb onto the wall. Cai Yan climbs up next, then together the two of them pull Helian Bo onto the top of the wall. The three young men climb up another storey along the dormitory’s roof, and from the lower eave they hop onto the main hall’s roof. There, on higher ground, they can get a panoramic view of the city.
Distantly they can see boulders flying in from outside the city walls, and that’s where the repeated booms are coming from.
“The fighting’s started!” Helian Bo says, sounding excited.
“The fighting’s started.” There’s a deep furrow between Cai Yan’s eyebrows. “Mongolians? They’ve already fought their way to the walls?”
Duan Ling looks on quietly, recalling the negotiation between his father and Yelü Dashi. It looks like everything is within Li Jianhong’s grasp, but he wonders: where is he right now?
“The fighting’s started,” Duan Ling says, feeling complicated.
Many more boulders are flying into the city. The city guard patrols scatter through Shangjing’s main streets and alleyways like water in branching rivers, flowing in all directions, heading to defend each of the city gates. Duan Ling remembers that Cai Yan’s older brother is the captain of the guard and tries to console him. “Your brother is highly skilled in the martial arts, he’ll be fine.”
Cai Yan hums in reply, and gives him a nod. Helian Bo also has realised that he’s gotten too excited, and he pats Cai Yan’s shoulder to comfort him.
“Let’s climb a bit higher and have a look,” Duan Ling says, “I wonder how things are at the northern gate.”
The three of them run along the roof, climbing onto the book pavilion. There are three levels to the book pavilion, and they straddle the railing, staring into the distance. They can see even clearer now; there are signs of fighting all around the city, troops are getting organised at the city gates, and quite a number of Mongolian soldiers are assembled.
“Do you think they can hold the city?” Cai Yan asks Helian Bo.
Heilian Bo shakes his head. Cai Yan asks again, “Your people fought the Mongolians before. How good are they?”
Helian Bo doesn’t say anything, and in the end he shakes his head again.
“They’ll definitely be able to hold the city.” Duan Ling says, “Don’t worry.”
Cai Yan says, “Good thing Batu’s left already. Otherwise he’d definitely die right now.”
The three of them can’t help but sigh, thinking of the past. Whether Batu runs away or not has no real direct connection to whether Ögedei will attack Shangjing. If they didn’t leave Shangjing that night, then it’s quite likely both Jochi and Batu would have lost their lives beneath Yelü Dashi’s blade. Duan Ling can’t help but extrapolate — if he himself became a political hostage, will his father stop his army’s march outside the city?
“Who’s there?” Beneath them, a director of academic affairs is snarling loudly at them.
They quietly go damn in their hearts — they’ve been discovered, and they’re suddenly in a panic to hide, but the Dean is speaking amicably to them from the courtyard, “Take your time, I won’t punish you. Just make sure you don’t fall.”
They climb down slowly, then the Dean kindly tells them, “Kneel right here, and without further instructions, don’t get up.”
Duan Ling is speechless.
A quarter of an hour later, Duan Ling, Cai Yan, and Helian Bo are kneeling in the courtyard. The Dean has his hands clasped behind his back as he paces back and forth close to them.
“Even ordinary men are responsible for the prosperity of the state.” The Dean tells them earnestly, “Do you know what you can do for the state?”
None of them dare answer for fear of getting the switch, but Biyong College isn’t like the Illustrious Hall at all, and very seldom does anyone get beaten. Yet Duan Ling would rather get a beating, because he really does find the Dean’s ceaseless harping unbearable.
“Lord Tang.” A city guard is coming this way.
“Stay here and seriously reflect on your actions.” Dean Tang turns and walks away.
As soon as Dean Tang leaves, the three of them turn in sync to stare in the direction he’s leaving in until his figure vanishes as he turns the corner by the wall. Helian Bo hurriedly picks himself up off the floor. “Go.”
Duan Ling says, “Let’s kneel for a bit longer.”
“There’s a war going on, what’s even the point in kneeling?” Cai Yan pulls Duan Ling up. “Let’s go.”
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. ↩︎
These are all from 大學, or the Great Learning. ↩︎
The original sounds written in pinyin is en for the first, and wu for the latter, but in reality wu sounds like a deeper, more throated en. ↩︎
It’s from Mencius. The rest of that last line is: but the people look hungry and there are dead from famine in the streets, then (those in power) are doing nothing less than commanding beasts to eat them. ↩︎
It’s raining cats and dogs in Shangjing today, and everyone walking its streets has to wade through water. Horses gallop past, bringing up splashes of water as they step through the puddles, as lightning flashes and thunder roars. Li Jianhong is wearing the same old commoners’ garb he always wears, his pant legs rolled up above a pair of wooden sandals, carrying Duan Ling as he walks down the street. On his father’s back, Duan Ling holds up an umbrella while they check the list of successful examinees posted on the wall.
The area in front of the notice is packed with servants. The two of them are the only ones who have come personally, staring up at the list of names.
“My name is there. The eighth one! The eighth one!”
“Well, of course my son would have done pretty well.”
Duan Ling’s yelling eighth one eighth one, while Li Jianhong remains amused as he carries him into Biyong College. The gatekeeper comes over. “Servants are not allowed inside. We have people here who can settle your young master.”
“He’s my dad,” Duan Ling says to the gatekeeper.
The gatekeeper looks Li Jianhong up and down several times, but in the end he has no choice but to let him in.
They are nearly completely drenched. Biyong College students don’t check in until the afternoon, so Duan Ling gets his name plaque, signs in, and finds his room. Once the rain begins to subside Li Jianhong tells his son to wait in his room while he goes home to get everything he needs.
After the bed is made and the blankets are folded, and he’s finished drinking the ginger soup to ward off the cold, Duan Ling says to his father, “You should go home. It’s probably like the Illustrious Hall here at night and they’ll serve dinner.”
Li Jianhong gives him a nod. There are more and more people in the rooms. He’s put on a bamboo hat, hiding a small part of his face as he leans on the outside of the window, talking to Duan Ling.
“Make sure you know where your things are, don’t put stuff down just anywhere. School isn’t like at home, and if you misplace something no one’s going to look for it for you.”
Duan Ling makes an affirmative hum. Li Jianhong adds, “Make sure you eat all three meals on time.”
More and more young men have checked in, greeting each other outside. Duan Ling goes uh huh a few times, and walks Li Jianhong out the backdoor, holding his hand. He’s even less willing to part with Li Jianhong than Li Jianhong is with him, but he knows he must hold back his tears. Otherwise, once he starts crying, Li Jianhong will only nag him more.
“You should go home, dad. I can take care of myself.”
It’s been only several months since Li Jianhong’s arrival, but it’s made Duan Ling nearly forget how he ever managed to get through his years at the Illustrious Hall.
“You go.” Li Jianhong says, “Don’t worry about me anymore. I’ll come see you when I have time.”
Duan Ling gives him a little nod, then he suddenly runs up to him, wraps his arms around his waist, and rubs his face against his chest. Thereupon Duan Ling lets him go and runs away without a word.
Li Jianhong stands outside the door, staring at the emptiness of the back courtyard.
“Don’t feel so bad about parting from him now,” the gatekeeper advises, “your son’s going to study and gain scholarly honour, yeah? Go home, go home.”
Slowly, Li Jianhong lets out a long breath; his wooden sandals clack across the flagstone pavement.
Red-eyed, Duan Ling runs along the other side of the wall, chasing Li Jianhong, peering over the wall as he goes; only once his father has gone far does he lean back into a corner, rub his eyes, and turn to go.
The night is clear after the rain, with a fresh scent in the air that lingers. Duan Ling returns to his room but it’s to find Cai Wen making the other bed, Cai Yan standing by his side, watching.
“Don’t put your things down just anywhere,” Cai Wen tells him, “this isn’t your house, if you misplace things no one’s going to help you look.”
Duan Ling can’t help but laugh, so Cai Wen nods at him. “You two take care of each other.”
Duan Ling goes up to Cai Yan and the two of them give each other a pat. Cai Wen leaves a few more instructions along with a bit of money, and then he’s gone.
“You’re here too,” Cai Yan says.
Duan Ling saw that Cai Yan came in first and knew that he would definitely be here, but he never imagined that they’d be roommates. Cai Yan adds, “Helian Bo is across the way. He has a room to himself.”
So Duan Ling runs over to greet Helian Bo. Helian Bo simply nods and says to Duan Ling, “Batu, go … gone.”
“Uh huh.” Duan Ling nods back. “He’ll be fine.”
Helian Bo starts to smile. He points at himself, then he does a “walking” gesture with his fingers. Duan Ling gets what he means and says, “Let’s go get food.”
Lots of kids at Biyong College know each other. The Han family didn’t come; they say he’s returned to Zhongjing. After spending months apart, everyone seems as though they’ve had a strange talisman pasted onto them the moment they entered Biyong College, causing the young men to become more mature and poised, adding the honorific xiong to the surnames they use to greet each other … and each time they meet face to face they’ll also salute, fist in hand, with a nod and a smile.
Meeting his schoolmates again has attenuated the sadness he feels about separating from his father somewhat, but once he’s finished eating dinner and returns to lie down in his room, Duan Ling starts to feel lonely again, tossing and turning on his bed. He misses the warmth of his father’s body, the temperature of his skin emanating through a thin undershirt, and being able to feel the rise and fall of his breath and his powerful heartbeat when his head is pillowed on his father’s arm.
“Mosquitoes?” Cai Yan asks.
“No.” Duan Ling doesn’t dare move again lest he disturbs Cai Yan’s sleep. It’s the first time he’s ever shared a room with a schoolmate, and he’s trying his best to be careful, not wanting to bother him.
“Homesick?” Cai Yan asks.
“No way.” Duan Ling replies, “When we were at the Illustrious Hall, wasn’t I living all alone as well?”
“Uh huh. Where’s that child-kept husband of yours? He’s not back yet?”
“No.” Duan Ling recalls the ludicrous things he said to Cai Yan once upon a time and can’t help but find it hilarious. “My dad’s here, and he’s sent him to get some work done.”
Cai Yan turns his head and glances at Duan Ling; the moonlight happens to shine into the room and onto his pretty face. Duan Ling is looking back at Cai Yan when Cai Yan says, “We don’t look alike, do we?”
Duan Ling says blankly, “I’m sorry?”
“My brother and I. Everyone always says that.”
But Duan Ling wasn’t thinking about that — he was just thinking how Cai Yan has grown. Since Cai Yan has said it though, Duan Ling makes a sound of agreement.
“We don’t have the same mom,” Cai Yan explains.
“Oh.”
Cai Wen has heavy features with big thick eyebrows, but Cai Yan looks quite delicate, with the lofty air of a scholar. He’s rather standoffish to most people, but he tends to look after Duan Ling, if only because Duan Ling isn’t really aggressive to begin with, and not competitive at all, thus making Cai Yan feel a sense of protectiveness towards the younger and weaker as a matter of course.
A disjointed sound comes from the outside, starting and stopping.
“Is someone playing the flute?” Baffled, Duan Ling climbs out of bed and opens the back window. The scent of summer flowers wafts through the air.
Cai Yan sits up and stares into the distance. The flute notes don’t flow, as though someone just starting to learn the fingering is trying to remember where to put their fingers as they play. It’s being played so badly it’s barely tolerable, and occasionally the notes are even accompanied by the sound of saliva blocking the embouchure hole.
Both Cai Yan and Duan Ling are wordless in the face of it.
“Joyful Reunion?” Duan Ling has finally managed to make out the melody. “It’s Joyful Reunion!”
Cai Yan drops his forehead into his hand, dumbfounded. “This is the most horrible song I have ever heard.”
While the man outside plays, Duan Ling suffers through every note, so bad that he wishes he can simply play the rest for him. However, that flute-player doesn’t seem to understand his feelings at all; it grows ever more enthusiastic, quite like the player is happy to entertain himself.
“Who is this?” Cai Yan is basically covered in goosebumps by this point.
Duan Ling doesn’t say anything. He’s guessed who it is, but he can’t help but keep his mirth to himself — he really doesn’t dare say.
“Stop playing!” In the room next door, Helian Bo finally can’t take it anymore and snarls that out the window, then right afterwards, throws a flower pot behind his words.
“Are you going to let us sleep or what?!” Cai Yan yells.
The flute finally stops playing, but Duan Ling doesn’t close the widow.
Cai Yan says, “Come on, let’s go to sleep. We have to get up early tomorrow.”
And so Duan Ling tucks himself in and quietly curls up in his blankets, and closes his eyes thinking about Li Jianhong. In his dream, a fallen blossom drifts gently down, spinning as it falls through the window to land softly by his pillow. A small stone hits the window frame, making a quiet sound, and the window closes on its own.
“The goal of higher education is to enhance the honourable part of one’s character …”
“Knowing one’s end goal gives one firm convictions, having firm convictions makes one steady and patient …”
“There is a root and branches to everything, a start and an end to every event; when one knows what comes first and what comes after, one is closer to the Way …”2
Biyong college is administered by four officials. The Dean is a kindly, chubby middle-aged man who makes the final decision on everything that happens in the college; two Directors of Academic Affairs supervise the studies; one Director of Student Relations decides on any request made by the students. These officials report directly to the Southern Administration, and it is the highest institution in Shangjing for the grooming of scholars.
There are also several Professors of the Five Classics who act as lecturers, as well as a number of teaching assistants; all positions from Dean to Teaching Assistant are ranked officials of Liao, and yet they’re all Han. Whenever students happen to run into them in the galleries they must stop and salute respectfully.
“Uh huh.” Whenever this happens, either the Dean or the Professor will give the student a nod, yet the nasal tone of this sound is slightly different. When the student they run into is Han, one can tell that it sounds like uh huh but when meeting a Khitan it would be mm hmm.3
New life has begun; they’ve gone from black sky yellow earth, vast universe all chaos to the goal of higher education is to enhance the honourable part of one’s character, from where there are three walking shoulder to shoulder, one must be able to be my teacher to if there is marbled meat in the kitchen and well-fed horses in the stable, but the people look hungry and there are dead bodies from famine in the streets… 4 The summer sun remains the same, the people he goes to school with remain the same, but Duan Ling feels as though everything around him has been turned on its head.
Aside from studying books and writing essays, those attending Biyong College must also practice the six Confucian arts: rites, music, archery, chariotry, calligraphy, and mathematics. Chariotry was abolished long ago and so it has been changed to horseback riding. Everyday, Duan Ling has to get up very early and assemble with other students outside the training grounds to practice archery first thing in the morning. They no longer teach horseback riding and archery in Chen for the most part, unlike in Liao, which put more weight on martial skills.
It’s the first day of horseback riding and a student has already broken an arm, coming back wailing. Duan Ling looks on with trepidation, for fear he’d get stomped into a meat pie by a horse. Fortunately Li Jianhong has taught him how to mount a horse, and with a simple swing of his leg he’s up, securely seated.
“Pretty good!” The coach says, “You’ve ridden a horse before. Come down! Your turn!”
Cai Yan gets on the horse, and it flails about and throws him off, leaving him in quite a state. Duan Ling rushes forward and supports him at his side as he walks back. Right at that moment, someone outside comes in and whispers something to the coach. The coach looks startled for a moment before walking off to find the Dean, leaving behind a bunch of chatting young men in front of the gallery and a single baffled horse.
“Are we done?” The young men won’t stop grousing, their muscles sore from exercise. Everyone is stretching their arms and can’t wait to get back as quickly as possible to lie down.
A dulled, muffled sound is coming from far away, and it seems as though horses are galloping down the street outside.
“What’s happened?” Duan Ling asks.
Cai Yan doesn’t know either. Soon, the Dean comes in, looking rather pale. “All classes are temporarily cancelled today. Everyone, go wait in your rooms, don’t come out unless we call you.”
The young men are in an uproar, but the Director of Academic Affairs says to them, straight faced, “What are you all doing?”
They immediately fall quiet again. The Dean bows first, and all the young men return the bow simultaneously and line up to leave the area. Today’s studies thus ends for the day. The instant they go back to their rooms, some students make visits to others’ rooms while some discuss among themselves. Helian Bo comes over to see Duan Ling, beckoning at him.
“What … what is?” Helian Bo looks at Duan Ling, as in, do you know?
Cai Yan is standing in the courtyard applying a wet, cold towel to his face. “Maybe the fighting’s about to start.”
Before he even finishes speaking, another muffled boom comes from far away. Duan Ling is surprised, and the students all cry out. Duan Ling takes Helian Bo’s sleeve. “Over this way!”
Helian Bo knows he means to go to the corner of the courtyard. He bends over, puts his hands on his knees, and Duan Ling steps on his back to climb onto the wall. Cai Yan climbs up next, then together the two of them pull Helian Bo onto the top of the wall. The three young men climb up another storey along the dormitory’s roof, and from the lower eave they hop onto the main hall’s roof. There, on higher ground, they can get a panoramic view of the city.
Distantly they can see boulders flying in from outside the city walls, and that’s where the repeated booms are coming from.
“The fighting’s started!” Helian Bo says, sounding excited.
“The fighting’s started.” There’s a deep furrow between Cai Yan’s eyebrows. “Mongolians? They’ve already fought their way to the walls?”
Duan Ling looks on quietly, recalling the negotiation between his father and Yelü Dashi. It looks like everything is within Li Jianhong’s grasp, but he wonders: where is he right now?
“The fighting’s started,” Duan Ling says, feeling complicated.
Many more boulders are flying into the city. The city guard patrols scatter through Shangjing’s main streets and alleyways like water in branching rivers, flowing in all directions, heading to defend each of the city gates. Duan Ling remembers that Cai Yan’s older brother is the captain of the guard and tries to console him. “Your brother is highly skilled in the martial arts, he’ll be fine.”
Cai Yan hums in reply, and gives him a nod. Helian Bo also has realised that he’s gotten too excited, and he pats Cai Yan’s shoulder to comfort him.
“Let’s climb a bit higher and have a look,” Duan Ling says, “I wonder how things are at the northern gate.”
The three of them run along the roof, climbing onto the book pavilion. There are three levels to the book pavilion, and they straddle the railing, staring into the distance. They can see even clearer now; there are signs of fighting all around the city, troops are getting organised at the city gates, and quite a number of Mongolian soldiers are assembled.
“Do you think they can hold the city?” Cai Yan asks Helian Bo.
Heilian Bo shakes his head. Cai Yan asks again, “Your people fought the Mongolians before. How good are they?”
Helian Bo doesn’t say anything, and in the end he shakes his head again.
“They’ll definitely be able to hold the city.” Duan Ling says, “Don’t worry.”
Cai Yan says, “Good thing Batu’s left already. Otherwise he’d definitely die right now.”
The three of them can’t help but sigh, thinking of the past. Whether Batu runs away or not has no real direct connection to whether Ögedei will attack Shangjing. If they didn’t leave Shangjing that night, then it’s quite likely both Jochi and Batu would have lost their lives beneath Yelü Dashi’s blade. Duan Ling can’t help but extrapolate — if he himself became a political hostage, will his father stop his army’s march outside the city?
“Who’s there?” Beneath them, a director of academic affairs is snarling loudly at them.
They quietly go damn in their hearts — they’ve been discovered, and they’re suddenly in a panic to hide, but the Dean is speaking amicably to them from the courtyard, “Take your time, I won’t punish you. Just make sure you don’t fall.”
They climb down slowly, then the Dean kindly tells them, “Kneel right here, and without further instructions, don’t get up.”
Duan Ling is speechless.
A quarter of an hour later, Duan Ling, Cai Yan, and Helian Bo are kneeling in the courtyard. The Dean has his hands clasped behind his back as he paces back and forth close to them.
“Even ordinary men are responsible for the prosperity of the state.” The Dean tells them earnestly, “Do you know what you can do for the state?”
None of them dare answer for fear of getting the switch, but Biyong College isn’t like the Illustrious Hall at all, and very seldom does anyone get beaten. Yet Duan Ling would rather get a beating, because he really does find the Dean’s ceaseless harping unbearable.
“Lord Tang.” A city guard is coming this way.
“Stay here and seriously reflect on your actions.” Dean Tang turns and walks away.
As soon as Dean Tang leaves, the three of them turn in sync to stare in the direction he’s leaving in until his figure vanishes as he turns the corner by the wall. Helian Bo hurriedly picks himself up off the floor. “Go.”
Duan Ling says, “Let’s kneel for a bit longer.”
“There’s a war going on, what’s even the point in kneeling?” Cai Yan pulls Duan Ling up. “Let’s go.”
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. ↩︎
These are all from 大學, or the Great Learning. ↩︎
The original sounds written in pinyin is en for the first, and wu for the latter, but in reality wu sounds like a deeper, more throated en. ↩︎
It’s from Mencius. The rest of that last line is: but the people look hungry and there are dead from famine in the streets, then (those in power) are doing nothing less than commanding beasts to eat them. ↩︎
