Schoolwork

Every month, on dates ending in five, the emperor tested the princes on their schoolwork. This rule had been established in the third year of Qi Xiao's reign and remained unshakable even by thunder. Grand Secretariat deliberations could be rescheduled, and morning court could be delayed, but the schoolwork examinations on those dates had never once been interrupted. Whenever those days approached each month, Grand Tutor Sun wielded his disciplinary ruler more often than usual, and his voice grew graver. A few days before the examination, he would call the princes aside individually in the Imperial Study to offer guidance. His advice differed for each of them, but his final words were always the same.

"I do not know what His Majesty will ask. But I do know that what His Majesty detests most is pretending to understand when you do not."

Each prince had his own way of fearing that day. The Second Prince, Qi Ming, feared being unable to answer. His schoolwork was not poor; in fact, it was good. But whenever he stood in Xuanzheng Hall, facing that expressionless face behind the imperial desk, the things he had memorized until they rolled off his tongue would stick in his throat. The Third Prince, Qi Zhao, feared being asked something beyond the grand tutor's lectures. He knew his father liked to press further, question after question, digging deeper and deeper until he broke through the bottom. What he could ordinarily answer in the Imperial Study was often only enough to get him through his father's first two follow-up questions. The Crown Prince, Qi Ling, did not fear examinations. He never had, even as a child. But he, too, had something he feared. He feared his father asking not about his lessons, but about affairs of state. On a date ending in five the previous month, his father had not tested him on the Book of Documents, but had asked his opinion on salt transport in Jiangnan. He had spoken for half an incense stick's time, and his father had nodded only once throughout. After that nod, he had known he had passed that day. But during the half an incense stick before that nod, a small patch of the clothes on his back had become soaked.

In the West Warm Pavilion of Xuanzheng Hall, the hour of the dragon had just passed. Autumn sunlight shone through the eastern window onto the imperial desk, bathing the Duan Inkstone on it in a blue-green gleam. Qi Xiao sat behind the desk. Instead of court robes, he wore an informal black robe, with subtle patterns embroidered in silver thread at the cuffs. He held a memorial, not the lecture notes for the examination, but one the Ministry of Revenue had submitted that morning. He was making the most of the wait before the princes entered to finish reviewing it.

De'an stood by the door, his fly whisk resting in the crook of his left arm. He had already sent a young eunuch inside to report that the princes were waiting in the Side Hall. Qi Xiao finished writing the last character of his annotation, set down his brush, and took a sip of tea. "Let them in."

Crown Prince Qi Ling entered first. He wore the informal robes of the Eastern Palace that day, with a black leather belt around his waist. He stopped three paces before the imperial desk, lifted his hem, and knelt with perfect propriety. "Your son pays his respects, Father." Qi Xiao gave a hum of acknowledgment. Qi Ling rose and stepped aside.

The Second Prince, Qi Ming, entered behind the Crown Prince. He wore a raven-blue robe that day, fastened even more tightly than usual at the collar. His movements as he knelt were exemplary, but as he rose, the toe of his right foot caught on his robe, and he swayed before steadying himself. "Your son pays his respects, Father." His voice, too, was tighter than usual, its final note cut a little short. Qi Xiao lifted his eyelids and glanced at him. Qi Ming lowered his head and stepped back to stand beside the Crown Prince.

The Third Prince, Qi Zhao, entered with light footsteps. His pale gray clothes made him look even more inconspicuous. He knelt and offered his greetings with proper decorum, his voice quiet. Qi Xiao nodded, and he rose and stepped back beside his second brother. Between him and Qi Ming was exactly one person's width, neither more nor less.

Qi Yu entered last. The moment he stepped over the threshold, the air in the West Warm Pavilion seemed to ease a little. He wore a gosling-yellow informal robe that day, its collar edged with white rabbit fur, which made him look warm all over. He walked up to the imperial desk and lifted his hem with less formality than any of his three older brothers. When he knelt, his knees struck the floor tiles with a decidedly solid sound. "Your son pays his respects, Father." He tilted his face up as he spoke, his voice clear and bright.

Qi Xiao looked at him. Their eyes met for the span of a breath. Qi Yu blinked. Qi Xiao withdrew his gaze. "All of you, rise."

The four princes stood in a row. Qi Ling came first, followed by Qi Ming, then Qi Zhao, with Qi Yu at the end. Sunlight streamed through the window behind them, casting four shadows of differing heights onto the floor. Qi Ling's shadow was the longest, Qi Zhao's the thinnest, and Qi Yu's crooked and wavering; behind him, he was secretly rubbing the toe of his shoe along a seam between the floor tiles.

Qi Xiao questioned the Crown Prince first. He asked about a passage concerning Emperor Xuan of Han in the Zizhi Tongjian, on the administration of officials. Qi Ling answered slowly, but every word landed steadily. When he reached "good officials are the foundation of the people's well-being," he looked up at his father. Qi Xiao neither nodded nor said he was wrong, but simply continued questioning him. At the third level of questioning, Qi Ling paused for two breaths before giving his own view. After hearing him out, Qi Xiao was silent for a breath, then gave his verdict. "Passable."

As Qi Ling stepped back, his fingers relaxed slightly inside his sleeves.

The Second Prince was questioned on the Record of Music in the Book of Rites. Qi Xiao asked about the principle that "music and governance are interconnected." Qi Ming's first sentence was steady, but as he reached the second, he caught sight of the vertical crease between his father's brows. He remembered every commentary on this chapter. When the grand tutor had covered this passage, he had specifically written three key points on the blackboard. But those three points were now tangled into a knot in his mind, and his hands clenched into fists inside his sleeves, his knuckles turning white.

Qi Xiao waited three breaths. Then he spoke, neither hurried nor slow, every word as level as usual. "Go back and read it again. I will ask you about this chapter next time as well." He neither lost his temper nor reprimanded him, but Qi Ming's face still went pale, the pallor spreading from the roots of his ears down his neck, all the more apparent against his raven-blue collar. He lowered his head and answered yes. As he stepped back, his shoulders slumped a little more than when he had entered. He returned to Qi Ling's side and kept his head lowered, staring at the small patch of floor tile before the toes of his boots. He knew his father had never praised him. He had never said "passable" as he did to his fourth brother, much less smiled. He had never dared hope for that smile. He only wanted not to falter when answering questions, only wanted his father to look at him, just once, with the slightest trace of warmth.

The Third Prince was questioned on the Book of Documents. Qi Zhao's answers were proper and unremarkable. His voice was quiet, but every word was carefully weighed. Qi Xiao asked a follow-up question that was not particularly probing. Qi Zhao thought for a moment and answered it. Qi Xiao pressed no further and told him to step back. Qi Zhao let out a breath of relief as he returned to his place. It was Qi Yu's turn.

Qi Xiao looked at him. The other three princes looked at him as well. Qi Yu stood before the imperial desk, his hands clasped in front of him, his posture very proper. He really was standing properly that day: his shoulders were straight, his toes were not fidgeting, and he even wore an expression that said, "I'm ready." Qi Xiao opened the lecture notes before him and looked down at them. The warm pavilion fell quiet for a moment, with only the sound of turning pages.

"In the King Hui of Liang chapter of Mencius: 'If the farming seasons are not disrupted, there will be more grain than can be eaten.' What comes next?" Qi Yu blinked. "...If fine-meshed nets are kept out of the ponds, there will be more fish and turtles than can be eaten."

"Continue."

"If axes enter the mountain forests in the proper season, there will be more timber than can be used."

Qi Xiao closed the lecture notes. He had intended to question him further about the relationship between this passage and the beginning of the kingly way discussed later. But before he could speak, Qi Yu had already edged a small half-step closer.

"Father, I know this passage." His eyes shone as he spoke, with a guilty look that gave him away without being asked. Qi Xiao leaned against the back of his chair and looked at him. "Since you know it, why announce it first?"

"Because I can't recite all of what comes after it." Qi Yu confessed honestly, then hurriedly added, "But I did listen carefully in class. I took notes when the grand tutor explained this passage. Really." He glanced back at Qin Wei. Standing by the door, Qin Wei gave a slight, expressionless nod, then immediately resumed his imperial guardsman's stance.

Qi Xiao placed the lecture notes on the desk. "Then explain it. What exactly is this passage about?"

"It means not being too greedy. Don't fish with nets woven too tightly; leave some little fish. Don't cut trees in spring; leave them to grow. The grand tutor said this leaves the common people a way to live, and leaves the state a road to fall back on, too. If you catch every fish today, there'll be nothing left tomorrow." Toward the end, Qi Yu no longer sounded as though he were reciting a book, but like he was speaking normally. "Father, I think it's much like the Ministry of Revenue managing money. You can't spend all the silver this year; you have to save some for next year. But the Ministry of Revenue doesn't seem to have learned this chapter very well. Last time, you said they didn't have enough money to spend again."

The corner of Qi Xiao's mouth moved. It was an exceedingly slight movement, impossible to notice without watching his face closely. He knew every change in every line of his father's face like the palm of his hand. After seeing that movement, he grew bolder.

"Father, I think your questions are too far off the syllabus. The grand tutor has only covered the first five chapters of Mencius. If you ask about the sixth, I really won't know. Would you like to ask a different question?"

Standing to the side, Qi Ming raised his head and looked at Qi Yu's back, that gosling-yellow back bargaining with their father as though he had every right to. His fists tightened another degree inside his sleeves. When he had faltered earlier, his father had said, "I will ask you about this chapter next time as well." Now his fourth brother was saying, "Your questions are too far off the syllabus." His father had not reprimanded him, not with a single word. Had the corner of his father's mouth moved just now? Qi Ming lowered his head and stopped looking.

Qi Xiao lifted his teacup and took a sip. "Do I need you to decide what I test?"

"I wouldn't dare, I wouldn't dare." Qi Yu said he would not dare, but his face showed no such thing. "You can test anything you like, Father. You taught me, after all, so if I can't answer, it's your reputation I'll be disgracing." At those words, De'an's hand trembled as he ground ink nearby. He hurriedly lowered his head and hid his expression behind his sleeve.

Qi Xiao set down his teacup and looked at his youngest son, who could not even stand properly before him. He remained silent for a long while. Then he pushed the lecture notes aside.

"You may all leave for now." He paused and looked at the Crown Prince. "Qi Ling, stay. I have something to ask you."

The princes all bowed. Qi Ming turned and left as soon as he finished, his steps much faster than when he had entered. Qi Zhao followed him, his pale gray back soon disappearing through the doorway. Qi Yu left last. Before crossing the threshold, he glanced back at his father. Qi Xiao was speaking to the Crown Prince with his head lowered and did not look at him. But in the instant he pulled the door shut, he heard his father say, "Qin Wei has notes you can borrow to read." The door closed. Standing outside, Qi Yu's lips curved upward.

Under the covered walkway, Qi Ming had already gone several paces. Qi Yu jogged after him. "Second Brother." Qi Ming stopped without turning around. Qi Yu ran up beside him and walked at his side. "Second Brother, I've memorized the passage you answered today, too. The Record of Music is so hard to memorize. I nearly fell asleep when the grand tutor was explaining it."

Qi Ming glanced sideways at him. "What are you trying to say?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to say you shouldn't take it to heart. Father makes that face at everyone. He didn't praise me today either."

Qi Ming said nothing. After a few steps, he suddenly stopped. "Fourth Brother, you don't need to comfort me. The more you comfort me, the more I feel you're pitying me." He uttered the word "pitying" very softly, but Qi Yu still heard it clearly.

Qi Yu opened his mouth. He had meant to say, "I'm not pitying you," but then felt that saying it would do no good. He stood there watching Qi Ming's back disappear at the end of the corridor. The autumn wind swept past, blowing the rabbit fur at his collar to one side. Qin Wei came over and stood beside him for a moment. Then he reached out and straightened the collar the wind had blown askew. Qi Yu looked up at him, but Qin Wei had already withdrawn his hand, his face still as expressionless as ever.

"Come on. Back to memorizing," Qin Wei said.

Qi Yu nodded and followed Qin Wei toward the Imperial Study. After a few steps, he looked back at Xuanzheng Hall again. Two shadows showed on its paper windows, one large and one small. The larger sat upright, and the smaller stood ramrod straight. They were his father and his eldest brother, the Crown Prince. He turned back and quickened his pace.

Back in the Imperial Study, the princes took their respective seats. Grand Tutor Sun had not yet arrived, and only a few study companions were tidying the desks. Qi Ming sat in his place and opened the Book of Rites before him, turning to the Record of Music and reading it word by word. Beside him, Zhou Wenhan wanted to say something, but after looking at his expression, swallowed the words again. Qi Zhao sat in the corner holding the Book of Documents, but his gaze was not on its pages. It rested instead on the scholar tree outside the window. Its leaves had already begun to yellow. When the wind blew, yellow leaves spiraled down and landed on the steps beneath the covered walkway.

Qi Yu sat in his own place and opened Mencius. Qin Wei had already marked the next passage to be taught for him. The red brush lines were perfectly straight, horizontal and vertical. Qi Yu lowered his head and looked at those red marks for a while, then closed the book again. From his sleeve, he took out the plain white handkerchief. The few bamboo leaves in its corner had become a little fuzzy from the rubbing of his fingers. He turned the handkerchief over and back, then folded it neatly again and tucked it into his sleeve.