The saying "Once you enter the marquis's gates, they are deeper than the sea" had never rung truer than at Marquis Wuwen's Mansion. Hong Yi was still only a licentiate, a hundred thousand miles from passing the metropolitan exam and earning military merit, but he was confident he could do both. Though he clung to the scholar's creed of keeping his composure even when a mountain collapsed before him, he still felt a chill run down his back and broke out in a cold sweat. Hong Yi went over and picked up the fragment of scripture with the fire tongs. To his surprise, it lifted like a whole scroll of silk. It was exceedingly thin, covered from end to end in dense writing. At its center sat a golden Buddha in the void, with countless suns, moons, and stars circling around him. First, there was the matter of status: it would look bad for a scholar to work as a groom. "Hm?" This would utterly upend the marquis's household rules—a change as earth-shaking as turning the world upside down. "I'll accomplish it myself. I'll win Mother the title of Lady, and make the whole household see!" Hong Yi clenched his fist and vowed silently. He had no idea what this scroll was made of, but even fire could not burn it. If an emperor committed a great transgression, scholars had to remonstrate with him. If he repeatedly refused to listen and stubbornly persisted, then they had to demand he abdicate! Hong Yi acknowledged him, went to the right side of the hall, and stood straight. "Father, what are your instructions?" Had he not practiced Ox Demon Great Strength Fist and strengthened his body, Marquis Wuwen's imposing presence might well have made his legs give out. Hong Yi guessed that this was the fundamental reason his father opposed him learning martial arts. "Mm." Marquis Wuwen's strict rule and household discipline were famous throughout the court, and many scholars greatly admired them. The Amitabha Sutra! "Hong Yi, stand to the right. I have something to say to you." Facing his father's authority, Hong Yi finally understood that without strength, a scholar's composure and sense of righteousness were little more than empty posturing. On the way back to his own courtyard, Hong Yi closed his eyes and let out a long breath. The main residence of the marquis's mansion was grand and imposing. Its floors were laid entirely with broad slabs of green-gray stone, smooth as mirrors and hard as iron. He knew there was no chance of arguing with Hong Xuanji. Even if your reasoning was sound, you still had to submit. "Why won't you let me learn martial arts? Are you afraid that if I pass the metropolitan exam and enter the military, I might earn enough distinction to be granted a title? Mother might then be named a Lady, disrupting the household's rules." "Father is right to reprimand me. I won't do it again." Hong Yi immediately spotted the scripture's title. On the left side of the offering table sat a man in magnificent brocade robes and a purple-gold crown. "If I were a Martial Saint, I'd dare to argue my case before Father. What is greatest in the world? Reason. A son can argue with his father on grounds of reason; even a subject can argue with his ruler!" "You haven't even mastered the classics. Why are you studying archery and horsemanship?" Marquis Wuwen's brows furrowed slightly at Hong Yi's wish to learn archery and horsemanship. He rejected it outright. "Master the classics first. If you take up martial arts before you've mastered them, you'll be nothing but a brute. Don't bring this up again. Understood?" Hong Yi thought to himself. "I heard you answered Princess Yongchun's poem in cursive. Why didn't you use proper characters? Were you showing off your literary and poetic talent? Instead of studying the principles of the classics, you spend your time on these crooked pursuits?" Even Hong Yi, unfamiliar with the mansion and its many winding paths, would have lost his way without the old steward leading him. He would have had no idea which direction was which. This was the way of a scholar! Alas, without strength, none of these principles could be upheld. The offering table was laden with all sorts of objects, each covered in bright yellow silk. They were plainly gifts bestowed by the emperor, and incense was burning before them. "Understood." Hong Yi still did not argue. "Father, I'd like to learn archery and horsemanship. I hope you'll grant me permission." Seeing that the mood had eased a little, Hong Yi boldly voiced his plan. "You violated the household rules. You should have received twenty strokes of the cane, but you hold a degree, and the provincial examination will be held after the New Year as part of the state's great ceremony. Since you must sit for it, I'll spare you for now. If you pass, the matter will be dismissed. If you fail, the household punishment will still be carried out." Marquis Wuwen's face remained expressionless. Seeing the old steward bring Hong Yi in, Marquis Wuwen pointed with one hand. Of course, that was because he had long stayed tucked away in a corner and rarely walked about the mansion. In his memory, he had only visited the main residence as a child, accompanying his mother. In this marquis's mansion, where human warmth and coldness cut like blades and frost, he had no home. As Hong Yi spoke, the old steward, who had retreated to a corner by the entrance, gave him a puzzled look. Hong Yi's composure seemed to surprise him. Even the eldest sons who had already started families trembled before Hong Xuanji; not one dared even breathe too loudly. Beneath the character "Rituals" stood a massive purple sandalwood offering table, large enough for four or five people to lie flat upon it. Marquis Wuwen spoke coolly, his tone so cold it made the listener shudder. At his cold "Hm," the temperature in the hall seemed to plunge. Hong Yi's legs went weak, and he nearly collapsed. Hong Yi bowed his head. They passed through several long corridors and climbed a succession of steps. "A scholar must steady his mind. Even if a mountain collapses before him, his expression must not change." Hong Yi steadied his anxious thoughts and followed the old steward into the main residence. "Eh? What's that!" It was the character "Rituals." "Why can't I steady my mind?" As for the second reason, caring for horses was exhausting work. You had to get up at night to feed them, and there were all sorts of things to keep track of. It would consume too much time and energy. Rules were paramount in Marquis Wuwen's Mansion. Hong Yi knew that if he argued, at best they would break his legs; at worst, they might beat him to death under household law. The rules applied to everyone, even the legitimate eldest son. "Yes, Father." Hong Yi lowered his head again. Hong Yi couldn't afford to study archery or horsemanship just then. Though he had ten red gold coins, that wouldn't buy him a fine horse and a good bow. And beyond that, a horse needed a groom to care for it. Hong Yi could hardly look after it himself. Marquis Wuwen, who prized rules, would never tolerate that. Before reaching the main residence, Hong Yi suddenly felt anxious and unsettled. He knew it was because his father, Marquis Wuwen, was so imposing. He had summoned Hong Yi without warning, and Hong Yi had no idea what he wanted. They passed several large gardens, skirted several ponds, and went through more than a dozen round gates in the walls. Following the old steward, Hong Yi walked for the time it took to eat a meal before finally reaching the mansion's central residence. "A ruler who commits a great transgression must be admonished. If he repeatedly refuses to listen, then his throne must be taken away! Father's principles of submission went against the very essence of scholarship. But how could I argue for those principles?" "You've done quite well in poetry, though it isn't part of the formal classics. It does show how quick your mind is." Marquis Wuwen continued, "You're fifteen this year, and under the laws of Great Gan, you're already an adult. What do you intend to do?" As he pondered, Hong Yi returned to his little courtyard and shut the door. He sat quietly with his thoughts, then glanced at the table and felt a twinge of regret over the "Martial Classic" he had burned. If he passed the metropolitan exam, joined the military, earned distinction, and received a title, then Mother's memorial tablet could stand alongside Lady Ci'an's. Even his father would have to offer incense to it at every family sacrifice...
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