There’s no need to go out and buy shaobing today; the chancellor’s estate has delivered their meal, and the food is even richer than what they usually get. There’s a small bottle of wine sent along with the food, and Wu Du doesn’t pompously flip the table this time around. Duan Ling arranges the dishes neatly around the table. Both of them are feeling a little bit awkward, and Duan Ling waits for Wu Du to pick up his chopsticks before he starts eating.
“Looks like the sky’s the limit for you, kid,” Wu Du suddenly says.
Duan Ling braces for more rebuffs and pours a cup of wine for Wu Du. Wu Du drinks it, but he doesn’t say anything else.
That night, he goes inside the room to sleep as usual without showing any sign that he’s going to leave at all, and Wu Du doesn’t try to drive him away either. The next day, when he sees Wu Du practising his moves in the courtyard, he stands and spends some time learning by mimicking. Wu Du frowns at him. “Shouldn’t you go already?”
That’s when Duan Ling says, “Um … Then I’ll be leaving now.”
After he takes his leave from Wu Du, Duan Ling heads into the chancellor’s estate to formally begin his career as a study partner. He didn’t really have a good understanding of Mu Qing before, so Duan Ling merely thought of him as another Batu. He’s always had confidence in dealing with Batu’s type, as no matter what shape his method of dealing with such a person may take, the essence of it remains largely the same. For the most part it is enough to keep his calm no matter what the other person tries to throw at him.
However, Duan Ling has misread him — Mu Qing and Batu are completely different people. Batu was always hiding his feelings, while Mu Qing on the other hand has come clean as fast as peas pour out of a bamboo tube. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and has no filter between his brain and his mouth.
“Wang something or other … What’s your name again?” Mu Qing asks of Duan Ling.
“Young master, my name is Wang Shan,” Duan Ling says to Mu Qing.
The teacher coughs, but Mu Qing totally ignores him and asks Duan Ling, “Why is your name Wang Shan? Does it hold a deeper meaning?”
The teacher shoots Duan Ling a glance. Duan Ling is thinking, we’re at school right now. Why do you talk so much? But then the teacher is saying to him, “Since the young master asked you a question, go ahead and answer him.”
Lest the teacher should underestimate hin, Duan Ling replies, “Wang is the hexagram ‘Kun’ in the study of the Book of Changes, one vertical line and three horizontal lines, which is the six ‘yin’; Shan is made up of three vertical lines, which is the three ‘yang’, or the hexagram ‘Qian’. The meaning of ‘Wang Shan’ is ‘yin and yang’.”2
Both Mu Qing and the teacher fall silent for a moment.
“Um, why weren’t you named Wang Chuan then?” Mu Qing asks.3
“No reason at all.” Duan Ling replies, “If that’s what you prefer, young master, I don’t mind changing my name to Wang Chuan.”
Mu Qing waves that idea off, and they return to learning as before. The teacher is halfway through the lesson when Mu Qing once more ignores him to ask Duan Ling, “Did Wu Du lose his temper with you when you went home yesterday?”
Duan Ling thinks, not again silently and the teacher hasn’t a choice but to pause. Presumably he’s always being interrupted by Mu Qing so he’s used to this by now, and uses this pause to drink a cup of tea.
And so Duan Ling turns to Mu Qing. “He did not, young master.”
“Did they send you over something to eat?” Mu Qing asks.
This time around, Duan Ling has managed to figure out what Mu Qing is thinking. “They did. I’ve never eaten anything so good before.”
Mu Qing winks at Duan Ling. He must be feeling rather pleased with himself.
The teacher continues explaining the classics, and not a moment passes before Mu Qing starts talking to Duan Ling again as though they’re the only ones here. “Are there any interesting poisons in Wu Du’s room?”
Duan Ling is thinking to himself, working as a teacher in the chancellor’s estate is no easy job, and spares a few brief sentences for Mu Qing. Though Mu Qing ordinarily has a lot of playmates, he’s never met anyone like Duan Ling before; most regular lackeys are always fawning over him, and they’re either joining in his shenanigans or they bend to his will with great deference. He can barely get any answers out of them with his questions, due to their lack of knowledge and experience. Those people are only good as sidekicks, and that’s boring.
On the other hand, Duan Ling is like a fathomless pool: earnest, reserved, and judging by his demeanour he seems well-read and thus well-informed. Mu Qing can’t keep his curiosity in check, and as if he’s just bought a new plaything, he won’t quit until he’s got Duan Ling all figured out from the inside out.
And yet with the morning behind them, his interest in Duan Ling has only deepened. In the afternoon, Duan Ling plays cuju with him for a bit.4 Back when he went to school in Shangjing, everyone’s free time was either taken up with cuju or wrestling so they’ve basically perfected these two skills. Out of all of them, Helian Bo was one of the best, and he often won himself a standing ovation. Helian Bo has taught Duan LIng everything he knows, and with martial arts as a foundation, a few casual kicks around the courtyard has Mu Qing filled with adulation for him.
“You do it like this. Like so.” Duan Ling teaches Mu Qing the keys to playing cuju.
Mu Qing could never have imagined that this kid would actually be a master of Cuju. Before this, his young servants only ever kicked the ball around without any technique at all, how could they ever measure up to such skills? And on top of that, Duan Ling is willing to share. They kick the ball back and forth for a while, and in the afternoon Mu Qing lies down for a nap. He wakes up to Duan Ling fanning him with a fan and reading a book at the same time.
“You’re so diligent,” Mu Qing says, half asleep.
“My family’s poor. Diligence is the only option.”
Mu Qing turns over and continues to sleep, but it’s not long before he wakes up again. He sits up and yawns, and gives Duan Ling a glance. When the teacher comes back in the afternoon, the two of them keep on learning.
By the time evening comes, Duan Ling has finished waiting on Mu Qing, and he’s getting ready to leave. To his surprise Mu Qing actually finds it rather hard to part with him. Ever since Mu Kuangda lost his temper, none of Mu Qing’s disreputable friends have returned to see him, and what young servants he has dared not encourage him to do anything either, lest word of it reaches Mu Kuangda and he’ll order them beaten to death according to the laws of the household.
And so poor Mu Qing has to stay there all by himself, looking miserable, waiting for Duan Ling to come back the next morning to talk to him. As Duan Ling is about to go, he finds Mu Qing spacing out beneath the eaves, and it leaves him feeling terribly guilty, but then realised Wu Du has been home all day by himself doing who knows what, and that should probably give him plenty of reasons to feel guilty too. So all the same he gives Mu Qing a bow and says, “I’m leaving, young master.”
Mu Qing is staring blankly in front of him, thinking about something or other, and he waves his sleeve around at Duan Ling, meaning go on then.
Back in the courtyard house, dishes of food are already laid out on the table in front of Wu Du, and when Duan Ling comes back he brings back some more food. After he washes his hands, Duan Ling asks, “Why aren’t you eating?”
“These are young master Wang’s rations. "Wu Du says, “Would I dare overstep my bounds just like that?”
Duan Ling doesn’t even know what he should say anymore, and he waits on Wu Du most deferentially, and only then does Wu Du start eating, while wearing the very face of discontent. He then interrogates Duan Ling about what Mu Qing managed to learn through his studies, and Duan Ling describes all the lessons one by one. After dinner he does the dishes and laundry as usual, and doesn’t go to sleep until it’s night time.
This goes on for the better half of a month; Mu Qing is only treating Duan Ling like a playmate at first, but Duan Ling’s serious attitude has spurred him on, so he seems to have gradually absorbed some of the lectures. What’s near cinnabar turns scarlet and what’s near ink turns black, as they say. Duan Ling is all square and proper, like a ceremonial jade blade.5 Call him completely harmless, and he seems to contain the vague suggestion of an edge; call him someone who has mettle, but he’s constantly holding himself back — making it hard to see what he’s all about.
“There’s been some progress,” Mu Kuangda says.
“The young master has made some progress, while Wang Shan writes essays like a martial artist who’s acquiring scholarship.” The teacher says to Mu Kuangda, “He’s a talent.”
Mu Kuangda drinks tea as he leisurely flips through the essays written by his son and his son’s study partner, and writes down his evaluation.
“Like a scholar who’s studying the martial arts.” Mu Kuangda says, “Still, a scholar at his core.”
The righteous often come from the lowly classes, while the scholar always turns out to be the perfidious one.6 If there’s any class of people Mu Kuangda can’t stand, it’s those righteous lowly classes — always using their hearts instead of their heads, bringing variables into his well-laid plans, ultimately making a mess of them. Scholars may be perfidious, but there is also a saying that goes all occupations are base save for book-learning. It’s regrettable that too few in his clan want to pursue scholarship, and on top of that, his son is worthless. He really doesn’t have the means to push him.
“Give him some money as a reward,” Mu Kuangda says. “Since you have to go home, give my son a couple of days off. And as you’ve told Qing’er you would, let the two of them go play, and tell Wu Du to guard them. At any rate, he’s an assassin after all, it’s a waste to leave him in that courtyard house.”
While the teacher is off seeing Chancellor Mu about the essays, Mu Qing and Duan Ling are in the study waiting to be summoned. Mu Qing is all nervous and jittery, but Duan Ling looks quite unperturbed, and he takes a stroll around the room once before he starts browsing the bookshelf, planning to take some books back for reading while their teacher goes home for his days off.
Mu Qing keeps getting this feeling that he’s maybe seen this aura somewhere before: laid-back, graceful, as though everything is within his grasp, like that someone … but for the moment he can’t quite recall who it was.
“Don’t worry.” Duan Ling says, “You did very well. When others point out that you have a fault, rejoice, you know?7 If the teacher comes back, give you a lecture and point out your problems, you should be glad.”
Sitting in front of the desk, Mu Qing draws a little figure with two whiskers, and starts laughing. Duan Ling would often find some fun in his adverse circumstances, so even studying is more relaxed than it used to be.
“I dread ‘Questions of Governance’ the most.” Mu Qing says, “If it were me I’d take some of the silvers from the rich and distribute them to the poor. Then everyone would live more comfortably.”
“But what are we supposed to do once they’ve finished spending the money?” Duan Ling says to Mu Qing. “When it comes down to it the root of the problem is in the distribution of land.”
“Tell them to buy land then,” Mu Qing replies.
The question they were asked today for the monthly exam was how they can best settle refugees fleeing south. Successive wars from last year have up to a million people from Liao and Chen pouring into the central plains and Jiangnan. They’ve lost their land, experienced their share of devastation from the Mongol army, and many of them froze to death on their way south; they’ve fled to Jiangzhou, and some of them have even forded the Yangtze to go farther south.
Thus the question Mu Kuangda raised was Mencius’s Benevolent policies must begin from the boundary,8 getting to the heart of the widespread land rights problem that exists through Southern Chen today. Without Duan Ling’s help, Mu Qing managed to understand what Mu Kuangda meant — because Duan Ling once told him that he must think about what the question didn’t say outright.
“And once they buy the land, some people will always be diligent while others are lazy; some people will be lucky while others beset by misfortune. Money and land will gradually concentrate in the hands of a select few. In the end, some people will still end up with nothing while others will be rich with large landholdings of fertile land.”
“Then just redistribute, yeah?” Mu Qing replies.
“And the cycle will begin anew, over and over without end.” Duan Ling laughs. “But if I ask you to give all of your money to the poor, would you be happy to do it?”
“I’d be happy to do it.”
Duan Ling stares speechlessly at Mu Qing. Knowing Mu Qing, he may really be happy to do it. If everyone in the world is like Mu Qing, then there’d be nothing to worry about. Mu Kuangda being Mu Kuangda, it’s truly ironic for him to have somehow sired a son like Mu Qing.
The teacher comes back, and lets the two of them know they’ve done well on their essays. Mu Qing immediately erupts in cheers, and the teacher gives them two days off. Duan Ling packs up his things so he can go home to keep Wu Du company, and once Mu Qing finishes cheering he suddenly feels a bit disappointed that Duan Ling won’t be coming over when they have off days, so much so that he finds himself at a loss…
If he’s asked to go seek amusement with the riff raff he used to call friends, he wouldn’t want to go either. In contrast Duan Ling has turned out to be an excellent playmate; he listens often, speaks little, and he’s even a master of all trades — he can catch a grasshopper or trap a bird, write an essay or fire an arrow. He can come up with riddles for Mu Qing to guess, know the classics well enough to casually quote them, sometimes he’ll even make up jokes about the old sage philosophers. The two of them may be close in ages, but Duan Ling is far more mature, and far more sedate.
“What are you going to do on your days off?” Mu Qing asks.
“I have to head back first. Otherwise Wu Du will beat me.”
Mu Qing was going to make Duan Ling stay for dinner, but once he hears that he has no choice but to wave him off and let him go. Suitable friends are hard to find nowadays; either they’re sweet-talking sycophantic flatterers or unsophisticated and inarticulate dullards. It is thus clear that even if you don’t judge someone by their appearance, people are sorted into castes and classes — everyone wants to make friends with those who are fascinating, elegant with good taste, and earnest in attitude.
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. ↩︎
The Book of Changes, or the I Ching, was a divination text. ↩︎
Chuan 川 is also three vertical lines. Whereas Shan 山 has an extra line at the bottom, Chuan would be a better representation of the Qian hexagram. ↩︎
Cuju is widely recognised by FIFA as the earliest form of football. ↩︎
They look like this. They were likely used as part of a sacrifice to the ancestors. ↩︎
A rhyming couplet written by the Ming dynasty poet Cao Xuequan. ↩︎
This is from Mencius. ↩︎
Benevolent policies must begin from the boundary; when the boundaries are improperly drawn, the land would not be evenly divided, and the grain and salary would be unfairly distributed. ↩︎
There’s no need to go out and buy shaobing today; the chancellor’s estate has delivered their meal, and the food is even richer than what they usually get. There’s a small bottle of wine sent along with the food, and Wu Du doesn’t pompously flip the table this time around. Duan Ling arranges the dishes neatly around the table. Both of them are feeling a little bit awkward, and Duan Ling waits for Wu Du to pick up his chopsticks before he starts eating.
“Looks like the sky’s the limit for you, kid,” Wu Du suddenly says.
Duan Ling braces for more rebuffs and pours a cup of wine for Wu Du. Wu Du drinks it, but he doesn’t say anything else.
That night, he goes inside the room to sleep as usual without showing any sign that he’s going to leave at all, and Wu Du doesn’t try to drive him away either. The next day, when he sees Wu Du practising his moves in the courtyard, he stands and spends some time learning by mimicking. Wu Du frowns at him. “Shouldn’t you go already?”
That’s when Duan Ling says, “Um … Then I’ll be leaving now.”
After he takes his leave from Wu Du, Duan Ling heads into the chancellor’s estate to formally begin his career as a study partner. He didn’t really have a good understanding of Mu Qing before, so Duan Ling merely thought of him as another Batu. He’s always had confidence in dealing with Batu’s type, as no matter what shape his method of dealing with such a person may take, the essence of it remains largely the same. For the most part it is enough to keep his calm no matter what the other person tries to throw at him.
However, Duan Ling has misread him — Mu Qing and Batu are completely different people. Batu was always hiding his feelings, while Mu Qing on the other hand has come clean as fast as peas pour out of a bamboo tube. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and has no filter between his brain and his mouth.
“Wang something or other … What’s your name again?” Mu Qing asks of Duan Ling.
“Young master, my name is Wang Shan,” Duan Ling says to Mu Qing.
The teacher coughs, but Mu Qing totally ignores him and asks Duan Ling, “Why is your name Wang Shan? Does it hold a deeper meaning?”
The teacher shoots Duan Ling a glance. Duan Ling is thinking, we’re at school right now. Why do you talk so much? But then the teacher is saying to him, “Since the young master asked you a question, go ahead and answer him.”
Lest the teacher should underestimate hin, Duan Ling replies, “Wang is the hexagram ‘Kun’ in the study of the Book of Changes, one vertical line and three horizontal lines, which is the six ‘yin’; Shan is made up of three vertical lines, which is the three ‘yang’, or the hexagram ‘Qian’. The meaning of ‘Wang Shan’ is ‘yin and yang’.”2
Both Mu Qing and the teacher fall silent for a moment.
“Um, why weren’t you named Wang Chuan then?” Mu Qing asks.3
“No reason at all.” Duan Ling replies, “If that’s what you prefer, young master, I don’t mind changing my name to Wang Chuan.”
Mu Qing waves that idea off, and they return to learning as before. The teacher is halfway through the lesson when Mu Qing once more ignores him to ask Duan Ling, “Did Wu Du lose his temper with you when you went home yesterday?”
Duan Ling thinks, not again silently and the teacher hasn’t a choice but to pause. Presumably he’s always being interrupted by Mu Qing so he’s used to this by now, and uses this pause to drink a cup of tea.
And so Duan Ling turns to Mu Qing. “He did not, young master.”
“Did they send you over something to eat?” Mu Qing asks.
This time around, Duan Ling has managed to figure out what Mu Qing is thinking. “They did. I’ve never eaten anything so good before.”
Mu Qing winks at Duan Ling. He must be feeling rather pleased with himself.
The teacher continues explaining the classics, and not a moment passes before Mu Qing starts talking to Duan Ling again as though they’re the only ones here. “Are there any interesting poisons in Wu Du’s room?”
Duan Ling is thinking to himself, working as a teacher in the chancellor’s estate is no easy job, and spares a few brief sentences for Mu Qing. Though Mu Qing ordinarily has a lot of playmates, he’s never met anyone like Duan Ling before; most regular lackeys are always fawning over him, and they’re either joining in his shenanigans or they bend to his will with great deference. He can barely get any answers out of them with his questions, due to their lack of knowledge and experience. Those people are only good as sidekicks, and that’s boring.
On the other hand, Duan Ling is like a fathomless pool: earnest, reserved, and judging by his demeanour he seems well-read and thus well-informed. Mu Qing can’t keep his curiosity in check, and as if he’s just bought a new plaything, he won’t quit until he’s got Duan Ling all figured out from the inside out.
And yet with the morning behind them, his interest in Duan Ling has only deepened. In the afternoon, Duan Ling plays cuju with him for a bit.4 Back when he went to school in Shangjing, everyone’s free time was either taken up with cuju or wrestling so they’ve basically perfected these two skills. Out of all of them, Helian Bo was one of the best, and he often won himself a standing ovation. Helian Bo has taught Duan LIng everything he knows, and with martial arts as a foundation, a few casual kicks around the courtyard has Mu Qing filled with adulation for him.
“You do it like this. Like so.” Duan Ling teaches Mu Qing the keys to playing cuju.
Mu Qing could never have imagined that this kid would actually be a master of Cuju. Before this, his young servants only ever kicked the ball around without any technique at all, how could they ever measure up to such skills? And on top of that, Duan Ling is willing to share. They kick the ball back and forth for a while, and in the afternoon Mu Qing lies down for a nap. He wakes up to Duan Ling fanning him with a fan and reading a book at the same time.
“You’re so diligent,” Mu Qing says, half asleep.
“My family’s poor. Diligence is the only option.”
Mu Qing turns over and continues to sleep, but it’s not long before he wakes up again. He sits up and yawns, and gives Duan Ling a glance. When the teacher comes back in the afternoon, the two of them keep on learning.
By the time evening comes, Duan Ling has finished waiting on Mu Qing, and he’s getting ready to leave. To his surprise Mu Qing actually finds it rather hard to part with him. Ever since Mu Kuangda lost his temper, none of Mu Qing’s disreputable friends have returned to see him, and what young servants he has dared not encourage him to do anything either, lest word of it reaches Mu Kuangda and he’ll order them beaten to death according to the laws of the household.
And so poor Mu Qing has to stay there all by himself, looking miserable, waiting for Duan Ling to come back the next morning to talk to him. As Duan Ling is about to go, he finds Mu Qing spacing out beneath the eaves, and it leaves him feeling terribly guilty, but then realised Wu Du has been home all day by himself doing who knows what, and that should probably give him plenty of reasons to feel guilty too. So all the same he gives Mu Qing a bow and says, “I’m leaving, young master.”
Mu Qing is staring blankly in front of him, thinking about something or other, and he waves his sleeve around at Duan Ling, meaning go on then.
Back in the courtyard house, dishes of food are already laid out on the table in front of Wu Du, and when Duan Ling comes back he brings back some more food. After he washes his hands, Duan Ling asks, “Why aren’t you eating?”
“These are young master Wang’s rations. "Wu Du says, “Would I dare overstep my bounds just like that?”
Duan Ling doesn’t even know what he should say anymore, and he waits on Wu Du most deferentially, and only then does Wu Du start eating, while wearing the very face of discontent. He then interrogates Duan Ling about what Mu Qing managed to learn through his studies, and Duan Ling describes all the lessons one by one. After dinner he does the dishes and laundry as usual, and doesn’t go to sleep until it’s night time.
This goes on for the better half of a month; Mu Qing is only treating Duan Ling like a playmate at first, but Duan Ling’s serious attitude has spurred him on, so he seems to have gradually absorbed some of the lectures. What’s near cinnabar turns scarlet and what’s near ink turns black, as they say. Duan Ling is all square and proper, like a ceremonial jade blade.5 Call him completely harmless, and he seems to contain the vague suggestion of an edge; call him someone who has mettle, but he’s constantly holding himself back — making it hard to see what he’s all about.
“There’s been some progress,” Mu Kuangda says.
“The young master has made some progress, while Wang Shan writes essays like a martial artist who’s acquiring scholarship.” The teacher says to Mu Kuangda, “He’s a talent.”
Mu Kuangda drinks tea as he leisurely flips through the essays written by his son and his son’s study partner, and writes down his evaluation.
“Like a scholar who’s studying the martial arts.” Mu Kuangda says, “Still, a scholar at his core.”
The righteous often come from the lowly classes, while the scholar always turns out to be the perfidious one.6 If there’s any class of people Mu Kuangda can’t stand, it’s those righteous lowly classes — always using their hearts instead of their heads, bringing variables into his well-laid plans, ultimately making a mess of them. Scholars may be perfidious, but there is also a saying that goes all occupations are base save for book-learning. It’s regrettable that too few in his clan want to pursue scholarship, and on top of that, his son is worthless. He really doesn’t have the means to push him.
“Give him some money as a reward,” Mu Kuangda says. “Since you have to go home, give my son a couple of days off. And as you’ve told Qing’er you would, let the two of them go play, and tell Wu Du to guard them. At any rate, he’s an assassin after all, it’s a waste to leave him in that courtyard house.”
While the teacher is off seeing Chancellor Mu about the essays, Mu Qing and Duan Ling are in the study waiting to be summoned. Mu Qing is all nervous and jittery, but Duan Ling looks quite unperturbed, and he takes a stroll around the room once before he starts browsing the bookshelf, planning to take some books back for reading while their teacher goes home for his days off.
Mu Qing keeps getting this feeling that he’s maybe seen this aura somewhere before: laid-back, graceful, as though everything is within his grasp, like that someone … but for the moment he can’t quite recall who it was.
“Don’t worry.” Duan Ling says, “You did very well. When others point out that you have a fault, rejoice, you know?7 If the teacher comes back, give you a lecture and point out your problems, you should be glad.”
Sitting in front of the desk, Mu Qing draws a little figure with two whiskers, and starts laughing. Duan Ling would often find some fun in his adverse circumstances, so even studying is more relaxed than it used to be.
“I dread ‘Questions of Governance’ the most.” Mu Qing says, “If it were me I’d take some of the silvers from the rich and distribute them to the poor. Then everyone would live more comfortably.”
“But what are we supposed to do once they’ve finished spending the money?” Duan Ling says to Mu Qing. “When it comes down to it the root of the problem is in the distribution of land.”
“Tell them to buy land then,” Mu Qing replies.
The question they were asked today for the monthly exam was how they can best settle refugees fleeing south. Successive wars from last year have up to a million people from Liao and Chen pouring into the central plains and Jiangnan. They’ve lost their land, experienced their share of devastation from the Mongol army, and many of them froze to death on their way south; they’ve fled to Jiangzhou, and some of them have even forded the Yangtze to go farther south.
Thus the question Mu Kuangda raised was Mencius’s Benevolent policies must begin from the boundary,8 getting to the heart of the widespread land rights problem that exists through Southern Chen today. Without Duan Ling’s help, Mu Qing managed to understand what Mu Kuangda meant — because Duan Ling once told him that he must think about what the question didn’t say outright.
“And once they buy the land, some people will always be diligent while others are lazy; some people will be lucky while others beset by misfortune. Money and land will gradually concentrate in the hands of a select few. In the end, some people will still end up with nothing while others will be rich with large landholdings of fertile land.”
“Then just redistribute, yeah?” Mu Qing replies.
“And the cycle will begin anew, over and over without end.” Duan Ling laughs. “But if I ask you to give all of your money to the poor, would you be happy to do it?”
“I’d be happy to do it.”
Duan Ling stares speechlessly at Mu Qing. Knowing Mu Qing, he may really be happy to do it. If everyone in the world is like Mu Qing, then there’d be nothing to worry about. Mu Kuangda being Mu Kuangda, it’s truly ironic for him to have somehow sired a son like Mu Qing.
The teacher comes back, and lets the two of them know they’ve done well on their essays. Mu Qing immediately erupts in cheers, and the teacher gives them two days off. Duan Ling packs up his things so he can go home to keep Wu Du company, and once Mu Qing finishes cheering he suddenly feels a bit disappointed that Duan Ling won’t be coming over when they have off days, so much so that he finds himself at a loss…
If he’s asked to go seek amusement with the riff raff he used to call friends, he wouldn’t want to go either. In contrast Duan Ling has turned out to be an excellent playmate; he listens often, speaks little, and he’s even a master of all trades — he can catch a grasshopper or trap a bird, write an essay or fire an arrow. He can come up with riddles for Mu Qing to guess, know the classics well enough to casually quote them, sometimes he’ll even make up jokes about the old sage philosophers. The two of them may be close in ages, but Duan Ling is far more mature, and far more sedate.
“What are you going to do on your days off?” Mu Qing asks.
“I have to head back first. Otherwise Wu Du will beat me.”
Mu Qing was going to make Duan Ling stay for dinner, but once he hears that he has no choice but to wave him off and let him go. Suitable friends are hard to find nowadays; either they’re sweet-talking sycophantic flatterers or unsophisticated and inarticulate dullards. It is thus clear that even if you don’t judge someone by their appearance, people are sorted into castes and classes — everyone wants to make friends with those who are fascinating, elegant with good taste, and earnest in attitude.
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. ↩︎
The Book of Changes, or the I Ching, was a divination text. ↩︎
Chuan 川 is also three vertical lines. Whereas Shan 山 has an extra line at the bottom, Chuan would be a better representation of the Qian hexagram. ↩︎
Cuju is widely recognised by FIFA as the earliest form of football. ↩︎
They look like this. They were likely used as part of a sacrifice to the ancestors. ↩︎
A rhyming couplet written by the Ming dynasty poet Cao Xuequan. ↩︎
This is from Mencius. ↩︎
Benevolent policies must begin from the boundary; when the boundaries are improperly drawn, the land would not be evenly divided, and the grain and salary would be unfairly distributed. ↩︎
