Grasping the Essence, Forgetting the Form

Yi Shuyuan walked through the city, keeping an eye out for places along the streets that might need someone to work with words.

Calligraphy and painting stalls, stationery shops, businesses that wrote family letters and couplets on commission-he even stopped at the occasional fortune-telling stall, pretending to be a customer as he examined other people's writing.

Yi Shuyuan's conclusion was that, although his handwriting was certainly nothing extraordinary yet, it fell short of the best but stood above the rest.

At the moment, Yi Shuyuan stood before a calligraphy and painting stall, whose owner was enthusiastically attending to him.

"Sir, you have a discerning eye! This is an authentic work by the great calligrapher Yan Qin, hailed as the one man uniquely favored in three hundred years of Great Yong history. I can see this piece is destined for you. If you like it, I'll part with it for just ten taels of silver!"

"Ten taels?"

Beside him, Yi Yong'an cried out, his eyes widening. An outrageous price for one lousy sheet of writing? It wouldn't even be enough to feed a stove, yet this stallholder had the nerve to ask that much!

Yi Shuyuan actually had no idea what sort of famous calligrapher Yan Qin was, but the stallholder had reeled off his accolades so convincingly that he must have been someone important. As for the calligraphy before him, that was another matter. He picked it up for a closer look.

During his cursory tour since entering the city, Yi Shuyuan had also keenly noticed that he possessed a natural intuition for appraising writing, presumably another legacy of his childhood talent. The characters on the sheet did indeed possess flashes of arresting spirit, but many of the strokes felt rather forced.

"You must be joking. How could an authentic Yan Qin sell for only ten taels? This writing is passable, but the verticals, turns, hooks, and left-falling strokes show rather too much deliberate imitation."

The stallholder's smile immediately turned awkward. He had run into someone who knew his stuff.

"Ah, hahaha, sir, there's still a great deal of merit in this piece. If you really like it, two taels will do!"

Yi Yong'an was growing anxious beside him. Afraid his uncle might buy it with a wave of his hand, he seized an opportunity to lean toward Yi Shuyuan's ear and whisper.

"Uncle, we didn't bring that much money."

Yi Shuyuan ignored him entirely, put the calligraphy down, and turned to leave. Yi Yong'an hurried after him. These things scholars amused themselves with were hideously expensive.

"Wait, sir! One tael-eight hundred copper coins will do! Five hundred! I really can't go any lower-"

Unfortunately, Yi Shuyuan did not even turn his head, leaving the stallholder shaking his head and sighing.

Before they knew it, the two had followed the main street leading into the city all the way to the center of Yuanjiang County, where they could see the county offices and the Yuanjiang County School a short distance away.

This area was clearly more prosperous. In particular, now that noon had arrived, tempting aromas drifted constantly from the restaurants and taverns. Never mind Yi Yong'an finding them hard to resist-even Yi Shuyuan could barely move his feet when he smelled them. Still, most of his attention remained on the school. He had all but instinctively followed the route he had taken so many times as a child.

Students were coming out of the school just then. Not every pupil had brought lunch, after all. Some went home on their own, while others had family members or servants waiting at the entrance.

"That's the school. I studied here when I was little. The teacher's surname was Yan-'strict'-and he lived up to his name. He was exceptionally stern!"

Yi Shuyuan felt a little wistful, but Yi Yong'an had not heard a single word. He kept looking at a nearby restaurant.

It was the Tongxin Pavilion, one of Yuanjiang County's two renowned restaurants. The other, the Drunken Guest Pavilion, stood outside the City God's temple. Each occupied a corner of one of the county town's two busiest areas.

"Grrrrr..."

Hearing Yi Yong'an's stomach rumble, Yi Shuyuan turned to find an embarrassed look on his face.

"Uncle, we've been walking for half the day. It's time we found somewhere to eat."

Yi Shuyuan glanced at the restaurant's sign diagonally across from them, and Yi Yong'an hurried closer to speak.

"Let's buy a few buns from the Tongxin Pavilion. They're guaranteed to be delicious!"

Naturally, the Tongxin Pavilion could not compare with the luxurious establishments in larger cities, but it was a century-old institution in Yuanjiang County. Its dishes were reasonably priced and tasted good, earning it an excellent reputation locally. The buns, pastries, and other snacks it sold were particularly popular with the common people.

When families in the county held weddings, many ordered buns, pastries, and similar foods from the Tongxin Pavilion, both for their flavor and for the auspicious associations.

As Yi Shuyuan looked into the restaurant, he suddenly noticed a middle-aged scholar entering from the direction of the county school, and his gaze instinctively followed him.

Someone inside the restaurant called out a warm welcome.

"Oh, Teacher Lian! Come in, come in! Shall we arrange a private room upstairs for you? One guest for a private room upstairs!"

The scholar clasped his hands and said something, then followed a waiter upstairs.

Yi Shuyuan watched in a slight daze. I wonder where Teacher Yan is now. After all these years, would he still recognize me?

Then Yi Shuyuan shook his head with a smile. He had only been a boy back then. Now the places remained but the people had changed; how could his teacher possibly recognize him?

"Go buy a few buns. I'll take a look over there first."

"All right, all right-but Uncle, don't go wandering off! The alleys here run deep. It's easy to get lost!"

"Now you're lecturing your elder? Where are your manners?"

Yi Shuyuan jokingly assumed an elder's authority, and to his surprise, it actually worked. Saying, "I wouldn't dare!" Yi Yong'an darted toward the Tongxin Pavilion as though fleeing.

A notice was posted on the announcement wall outside the county offices. Yi Shuyuan had spotted it earlier and now walked over to take a look. Perhaps it was the time of day, but few passersby stopped there. Apart from Yi Shuyuan approaching, there were only two people.

By the time Yi Shuyuan reached the wall, the two people reading the notice had left as well, so he silently read the words himself.

"This county intends to compile a new edition of the Yuanjiang County Gazetteer and seeks two writing clerks with neat handwriting."

Yi Shuyuan carefully read the entire notice. It specified the requirements and pay, and a date appeared at the bottom. Counting back, it had been posted ten days ago, yet apparently the positions still had not all been filled?

Just two people, and they're this hard to find?

What Yi Shuyuan did not know was that Yuanjiang County had a strong literary atmosphere and was not particularly impoverished. Moreover, it had produced several high-ranking officials, so many local scholars considered obtaining scholarly honors their calling. Some did come out to earn money, but they would rather write family letters or even copy books for wealthy households than respond to this notice.

The trouble lay in that one word: "clerk." It was not merely Yuanjiang County; throughout the Great Yong Dynasty, from court to countryside and among scholars, petty clerks were looked down upon.

Clerks were neither officials nor recipients of an imperial stipend. Their pay came solely from the county offices' own funds. In the language of Yi Shuyuan's previous life, they were worse off than temporary workers. Coupled with the pervasive hierarchy of contempt, clerical work had always been considered beneath any scholar with "aspirations."

Not to mention that the finished local gazetteer would bear the name of the county magistrate, the County Deputy, or the County Registrar. The writing clerks would have absolutely nothing to do with the credit; they would not even leave their names behind.

But Yi Shuyuan knew none of that. Neither his father nor his teacher had spoken of such unpleasant matters. Even if he had known, he might not have cared now. This job seemed relatively dependable, and payment was calculated by the number of characters, making it little different from copying books. He began to consider giving it a try, though he worried that his identity might cause trouble.

"They probably didn't keep particularly detailed, comprehensive records in ancient times, did they?"

His wishful thinking swelled at that moment. Yi Shuyuan longed to support himself and escape his current circumstances. He glanced toward the Tongxin Pavilion. His eldest nephew stood outside beside the steamers, waiting for a fresh batch of buns to finish cooking, while his eyes kept straying to the meals of the diners inside.

Right, I'll give it a try! With that thought, Yi Shuyuan decided to make an attempt. Since no one stood beside the notice, he went to ask the officers at a nearby side entrance.

Naturally, the county offices had more than just a main entrance. That was where people beat the drum to request a hearing; the staff actually used the side entrances most often. Yi Shuyuan knew that much.

Two officers were on duty at the side entrance and had already noticed him approaching.

Observing every courtesy, Yi Shuyuan smiled and clasped his hands in greeting to the two officers.

"Officers, I'd like to apply for the writing clerk position compiling the county gazetteer. Might I ask whom I should see?"

Although Yi Shuyuan was plainly dressed, his composure and bearing were exceptional. Neither officer dared slight him. They returned his greeting and replied.

"Since you're applying for the writing clerk position, sir, we should take you to see the County Registrar. May we ask your name?"

"Ah, I am... Yi Shuyuan!"

After hesitating, Yi Shuyuan still used his real name.

"This way, Mr. Yi!"

The officers were actually somewhat overbearing toward ordinary commoners. Some would even deliberately put on a fierce expression.

But when someone offered a foot of respect, they returned a yard. Yi Shuyuan's sincere manner showed no trace of pretense, so both men treated him very amiably, perhaps even taking a liking to him. After all, scholars generally looked down on people like them. Some were outwardly respectful while their eyes betrayed contempt. In the hierarchy of officers and clerks despised by scholars, those who wielded blades and staves surely ranked below those who worked with a brush.

One stayed on duty while the other led Yi Shuyuan into the county offices. They passed through courtyards and doorways for a while before arriving outside a building.

"County Registrar, someone has come to apply for the writing clerk position compiling the county gazetteer."

"Bring him in."

"Yes, sir!"

After answering, the officer looked at Yi Shuyuan and gestured inside.

"Please."

Yi Shuyuan clasped his hands once more, composed himself, and entered with the officer. A short-bearded man who appeared to be in his forties sat behind an official desk. He wore ordinary clothes rather than official robes.

Hearing Yi Shuyuan's footsteps, the County Registrar raised his head. At his first glimpse of Yi Shuyuan, surprise appeared on his face. This man was handsome and carried himself with considerable distinction, yet he had come to apply as a writing clerk?

Yi Shuyuan, however, had no idea what the other man was thinking. He merely appeared calm while inwardly he was terribly nervous. Will he ask to check my household registration right away? My identity in West River Village is a little complicated, but proving I'm a local shouldn't be too difficult, right? Or will he test my learning?

"You wish to apply as a writing clerk?"

Hearing the question, Yi Shuyuan hurriedly stopped his wandering thoughts and answered solemnly.

"Yes!"

The County Registrar nodded and stood, taking a sheet of paper from his desk and pushing it to the other side. Then he took a Wolf-Hair Brush hanging from the brush rack and handed it to Yi Shuyuan.

"Write a few characters for me to inspect."

Writing was no problem. Relieved, Yi Shuyuan accepted the brush, held back his sleeve with one hand, and dipped the brush in his right hand into the inkstone on the desk. Just as he was about to write, however, he hesitated.

Does a writing clerk count as a civil servant? There must be plenty of applicants, right? If I just write something reasonably neat, I'm bound to be rejected!

At that thought, a flash of inspiration seemed to strike Yi Shuyuan. Images of the earlier calligraphy stall surfaced one after another in his mind. Could I capture a little of its true essence? The paths traced by those characters grew ever clearer in his mind, as though he truly could recreate them with his brush.

The next moment, Yi Shuyuan began to write. His strokes were rich with ink, his writing fluid. The characters were neither sloppy nor cursive, yet possessed a hint of airy freedom. He had erased the flaws in the imitation he had seen earlier, without making the writing quite so loose.

In Yi Shuyuan's state of intense concentration, his writing drew upon Yan Qin's spirit yet became something entirely different: grasping the essence and forgetting the form!

When he finished the poem "Hoeing the Grain," the skill displayed on the paper marked the pinnacle of Yi Shuyuan's achievements across both his lives thus far. Even he was inwardly startled. Could I really be a fucking genius?

It had only been meant as a test of his handwriting, but as Yi Shuyuan laid down each stroke, even the officer beside him, who knew a little about such things, stared wide-eyed. The County Registrar's mouth had fallen slightly open.

--

P.S. I hope you'll all continue to give this story your support and read the early chapters patiently. Please don't find it a chore, because what comes before and after is closely connected. The immortal cultivation elements will gradually arrive!