Bickering

The Imperial Study stood east of Xuanzheng Hall, two covered walkways away, in a courtyard of its own. The courtyard was small, with three main rooms: a lecture room in the middle and rooms on either side where the princes rested before and after lessons.

Grand Tutor Sun was already seated behind the teaching desk. He was in his early sixties, with mostly white hair, though his beard still had more black than white. His back was ramrod straight, and once he sat there, the entire room fell quiet. He had placed third in the imperial examinations during the late emperor's reign, spent twenty years at the Hanlin Academy, then taught in the Imperial Study for another fifteen. One by one, he had taught princes from their first lessons until they established their own households and received princely titles. The ruler in his hand had struck both the late emperor's youngest son and the reigning emperor.

A disciplinary ruler lay on the teaching desk. Made of bamboo and two fingers wide, it had been polished to an oily shine by years of use. When Qi Yu arrived, Grand Tutor Sun was leafing through a book. Qi Yu stepped over the threshold, straightened his collar, then gave a proper bow. "Grand Tutor."

Grand Tutor Sun lifted his eyelids and glanced at him. Neither of Qi Yu's arms moved quite freely yet. He raised his hands more slowly than usual when bowing, lowering them as soon as his fingertips touched the space between his brows. Grand Tutor Sun's gaze lingered on his arms before withdrawing. "Sit."

Qi Yu went to his seat. It was in the row beside the window, where the shadow of the locust tree outside fell squarely across his desk. Qin Wei was already seated beside him. Seeing Qi Yu sit down, he shifted half an inch to make room for his brush and ink.

His father was General Zhenwei, Qin Zhong, who had guarded the frontier for ten years. When he returned to the capital to report on his duties, the emperor personally hosted a banquet for him in Xuanzheng Hall. Qin Wei had accompanied his father into the palace that day. Qi Xiao took one look at the taciturn youth and said, "Have him enter the palace as the fourth prince's study companion." Qin Zhong froze for a moment, then thought it would be good for his son to have the emperor's protection. And so Qin Wei entered the palace.

He resembled his father, with thick eyebrows, a high nose, and tightly pressed lips. He spoke little and could sit still. Whenever Qi Yu's attention wandered in class, he would gently nudge the desk with his elbow. One nudge, and Qi Yu knew. They had used this signal for three years, and the grand tutor had yet to notice.

Qi Yu sat down and began pulling books from his book bag. His left arm was somewhat better, but his right was still sore. Getting a book out was like scooping fish from the water; it took several attempts before he finally caught it. Qin Wei glanced at him, reached over to open the book to the right page, then pushed the inkstone closer to his hand. Qi Yu smiled at him. Qin Wei withdrew his hand without expression and continued sitting bolt upright.

Two more people came through the doorway. The Second Prince, Qi Ming, led the way at an unhurried pace, the hem of his robe barely stirring. He wore a dark-blue everyday robe today, its collar fastened tightly. Following him was his study companion, Zhou Wenhan, the second son born to the principal wife of the vice minister of rites. The third prince, Qi Zhao, walked about two paces behind him, wearing light gray. His study companion was Shen Mingyuan, the youngest son of the head academician of the Hanlin Academy.

Qi Ming entered and first bowed to Grand Tutor Sun. His posture was impeccable, his waist bent just far enough, and a fitting smile rested on his face when he straightened. "Grand Tutor."

Qi Zhao followed suit with a bow. Then both went to their seats. Passing Qi Yu's desk, Qi Ming paused. He looked down at the open book on Qi Yu's desk, then at the arms hanging at his sides.

"Are your arms any better today, fourth brother?" he asked.

"Much better." Qi Yu looked up at him.

"That's good." Qi Ming smiled and went to sit down.

Watching his retreating back, Qi Yu kept feeling that the smile just now had not quite been a smile. But he could not say what was wrong with it. His second brother had always liked speaking to him in that tone, anyway. Each word was faultless on its own, but strung together, they made him uncomfortable. He cast the feeling aside and lowered his head to resume wrestling with his inkstone. The inkstick was too dry. He dripped two drops of water onto the inkstone and picked up the stick to grind it. After just two circles, his wrist began to ache.

Qin Wei took the inkstick from him and began grinding in silence. His wrist strength came from practicing saber work at home; grinding ink was child's play, and the ink came out rich and even.

Grand Tutor Sun cleared his throat and began the lesson. Today's text was the Duke Xiang Chapter of the Zuo Zhuan. The grand tutor had a habit when teaching: he first read the original text aloud, very slowly, enunciating every word. Then he explained the commentaries, weaving in accounts from earlier dynasties and tapping the edge of the desk with his ruler at important points. The sound of the ruler against the desk was dull and quiet, but not one of the youths in the room dared let his attention wander. Even Qi Ming sat perfectly straight, his brush recording notes on the paper without a moment's pause.

After listening for a while, Qi Yu's fingers itched to take notes. He tried holding his brush in his left hand, but his left-handed writing was crooked and lopsided. The character "Xiang" came out looking like a flattened ant. Qin Wei glanced at it and pushed his own notebook toward Qi Yu. Qin Wei's handwriting was square and orderly. Though not as handsome as the grand tutor's, every stroke was clear. Qi Yu looked down at it and closed his own notebook.

Halfway through the lesson, the grand tutor began asking questions. This was the most nerve-racking part of every class. He followed no order when questioning them, calling on anyone he pleased. Whoever he named had to stand and answer. Anyone who could not answer remained standing until the lesson ended.

"Second Prince." Grand Tutor Sun looked at Qi Ming. "In the twenty-fifth year of Duke Xiang, Cui Zhu of Qi murdered his ruler. Why did Cui Zhu kill the historian?"

Qi Ming stood, unhurried and composed. "Having murdered his ruler, Cui Zhu feared the historian would record the truth and leave his name stinking for ten thousand years. So he killed the historian."

"How many times did he kill?"

"Three times. The grand historian wrote, 'Cui Zhu murdered his ruler,' and Cui Zhu killed him. His younger brother succeeded him, wrote the same thing, and was killed as well. A third brother succeeded him and wrote it again. Cui Zhu finally stopped killing."

"Why did he stop?"

Qi Ming paused and considered. "He could not kill them all."

Grand Tutor Sun nodded. "A historian's integrity rests not in one man, but in a family, in an office. Cui Zhu could kill one grand historian, but he could not kill all the historians under heaven." He paused, then added, "Sit."

Qi Ming sat down. His expression scarcely changed, but afterward, his grip on his brush was tighter than before. Zhou Wenhan, beside him, wanted to say something, but he gently shook his head and went on writing with his head lowered.

The grand tutor called on Qi Zhao next. Qi Zhao rose half a beat more slowly than Qi Ming, as though he first had to work out how to stand steadily. The grand tutor asked him a question about Zichan of Zheng. Qi Zhao answered, though quietly, each word seeming to leave his mouth only after careful deliberation. The grand tutor listened, nodded, and told him to sit.

After sitting down, Qi Zhao lifted the teacup on his desk and took a sip. He drank slowly, cradling the cup in his hands and lightly rubbing its surface with his fingers. He had very little presence in the Imperial Study. He never volunteered a word and would not speak unless the grand tutor called on him. Yet whenever he was asked a question, he could always offer some answer. Shen Mingyuan, beside him, was quiet too. Between them, they spoke no more than five sentences over an entire lesson, but their notebooks were filled to the brim.

The grand tutor called on Qi Yu last. Qi Yu stood, instinctively bracing his right hand against the desk, and grimaced in pain. Beside him, Qin Wei's brows creased almost imperceptibly.

"Fourth Prince, which chapter does 'As you begin with this, so must you end with this' come from?"

Qi Yu thought for a moment. "The Duke Huan Chapter of the Zuo Zhuan."

"What event does it describe?"

"King Wu of Chu attacked Sui. The Marquis of Sui said, 'I have not offended Chu. Why is Chu attacking me?' King Wu of Chu said, 'You paid tribute to the Son of Heaven of Zhou, but not to me, so I am attacking you.' The Marquis of Sui said, 'Then I will pay tribute to you.' King Wu of Chu said, 'No need. I have already sent out my troops.'" Qi Yu paused, then added, "Grand Tutor, isn't there something wrong with King Wu of Chu's logic?"

Grand Tutor Sun looked at him without expression. "What is wrong with it?"

"The Marquis of Sui was following ritual propriety by paying tribute to the Son of Heaven of Zhou. King Wu of Chu was himself a subject of the Son of Heaven of Zhou. For one subject to attack another because he paid tribute to the Son of Heaven was against ritual propriety. If he really wanted tribute from Sui, he could simply have said so. The Marquis of Sui had already agreed to pay, yet he still refused to withdraw his troops. That shows he wasn't after tribute at all. He just wanted to attack. He wanted to attack, but insisted on finding an excuse, and the excuse was terrible."

Grand Tutor Sun looked at him for a long while. His ruler tapped lightly against the edge of the desk. "Not a bad answer." He paused. "But next time you answer a question, explain the original meaning in the book clearly before discussing your own views."

Qi Yu lowered his head slightly. "Yes."

As he sat down, Qin Wei glanced at him. It was a brief glance, but the corner of his mouth moved slightly-not curving into a smile, but holding one back.

During the break, the study companions all went outside for some air. The princes stayed in the room, drinking tea at their seats. Qi Yu picked up Qin Wei's notebook and found a mistake in one line. He was about to correct it for him when, as he raised his hand, his sleeve swept against the inkstone on the desk. The inkstone rocked twice, splashing a few drops of ink onto Qi Ming's cuff beside him. Several black spots spread through the dark-blue fabric, conspicuous against it.

Qi Ming looked down at his sleeve. "Your arms don't work very well, fourth brother, and neither do your eyes."

"Did it splash on you?" Qi Yu put down his brush, picked up an ink cloth from the desk, and offered it to him. "I'm sorry, second brother. Take it off, and I'll have someone wash it."

Qi Ming did not take the cloth. Instead, he drew a snow-white handkerchief from his sleeve and gently dabbed at his cuff. "No need. This robe was old anyway. The ink is just as well. I'll throw it out later."

His tone was neither warm nor cold, and that not-quite-smile still rested on his face. "You really do have a better lot than the rest of us, fourth brother." "What are you saying, second brother?" Qi Yu's hand was still extended in midair, holding the ink cloth.

"I just said your lot is better than ours." Qi Ming placed the dirty handkerchief on the desk and looked up at him. "Ever since you were little, you've had the best of everything. Your clothes are specially commissioned from the Wardrobe Bureau by Her Majesty the Empress. Your study companion was chosen personally by Father. Even when you answer a question wrong in class, the grand tutor doesn't punish you. Had anyone else said King Wu of Chu's logic was wrong, the ruler would have come down long ago."

Qi Yu put the cloth down on the desk. "The grand tutor didn't punish me because my answer was right. King Wu of Chu's logic really was wrong."

Qi Ming gave a laugh. "Right. Everything you say is right, fourth brother."

Qi Yu looked at him for a moment. "Second brother, do you have something against me?"

"What could I possibly have against you?" Qi Ming opened the book on his desk and picked up his brush again. "You're the flesh closest to Father's heart. Who would dare have anything against you?"

Qi Yu watched Qi Ming's profile as he bent over his writing. Sunlight streamed through the window onto Qi Ming's eyelashes. His eyes were lowered, concealing what lay within them. Qi Yu wanted to say more, but Qin Wei nudged his leg with a knee beneath the desk. Qi Yu swallowed the words on his tongue.

Just then, the bell rang for class. Grand Tutor Sun returned from the side room and resumed the lesson. Sitting in his seat, Qi Yu folded the ink cloth over and over into a small square, then unfolded it and folded it again. Beside him, Qin Wei ground ink, the sound circling round and round like spreading ripples. Only after a long while did Qi Yu return his attention to the pages.

When class ended, the princes packed their book bags and headed out. Qi Yu stuffed the books and notebooks on his desk into his bag, while Qin Wei put away his inkstone and inkstick for him. Qi Ming passed their desk without slowing, Zhou Wenhan following behind him, and the two went out one after the other. Qi Zhao left last. Passing Qi Yu's desk, he gave a soft cough. Qi Yu looked up at him, but Qi Zhao had already walked past. His light-gray figure followed Qi Ming at a distance of two or three paces, neither more nor less. Standing beneath the covered walkway, Qi Yu watched Qi Ming's back disappear through the courtyard gate. Qin Wei stood beside him with the book bag slung over his shoulder.

"Back to your residence?" Qin Wei asked. Qi Yu shook his head. "Xuanzheng Hall first." Qin Wei said nothing more and followed him. The two youths walked along the covered walkway one behind the other, their pale blue-green hems fluttering gently in the wind.