In just two days, a notice appeared outside the prefectural office, listing those newly hired as county clerks.
Although not as many people came to see it as they would for the civil service exam results, a fair number of commoners came to peek at the list. After all, the names on the list indicated who would frequently enter the office; anyone handling official procedures might need to meet them.
Compared to the civil exams, this directly affected the daily lives of the locals.
That morning, the eatery had been quiet, but Jiang Qi knew today the notice would be posted. Even though he already feared he wouldn’t succeed, he had gone to the exam and thought it would still be worthwhile to see the results and bring the news back to his parents and neighbors.
The prefectural office had hired fourteen people in total: two clerks, four sixth-department assistants, six general clerks, and two attendants specifically serving the magistrate.
During registration, applicants had to specify which position they were applying for; assignments weren’t based solely on exam performance.
Jiang Qi, who had been the first to take the exam, didn’t know how others fared but was aware that the competition was stiff.
“No way! I couldn’t have failed!”
“This must be a mistake at the office. How could I not get in?”
Before Jiang Qi could see the red notice, he heard a familiar voice shouting:
“Selections are unpredictable. Young master, don’t be too upset. The magistrate personally chooses, so it can’t go wrong.”
“I’m a scholar! How could a scholar like me fail to become a county clerk? It must be the office’s mistake!”
Jiang Qi noticed that Scholar Wei, who was making a scene beneath the notice, looked like a crude bully. Such behavior wasn’t surprising—Wei often caused a ruckus when drunk at the eatery, and the owner had long been exasperated but powerless.
Still, hearing Wei’s angry shouts, Jiang Qi felt some surprise—Wei, a scholar, hadn’t made it either?
A quiet thrill of satisfaction rose in him. Wei had always flaunted his title and family connections to assert dominance locally, yet now he’d met his match. If Wei had landed a position in the office, he would surely have lorded it over everyone.
Jiang Qi also realized that the county office’s hiring standards were indeed quite stringent, even for someone with a scholarly title.
Just as he was lost in thought, a group approached.
“Bookkeeper Jiang, congratulations! Be sure to take care of us old friends from now on!”
“I said, though young, Bookkeeper Jiang is capable. The magistrate values talent and would not choose poorly.”
“Bookkeeper Jiang, how about coming to my place for a drink today?”
With the flattery, more people chimed in, piling on congratulations.
Jiang Qi found himself pushed beneath the notice board. There, in bold black and red, was his name.
His head spun; he could hardly process it.
“I’m on the list? I was selected as a clerk?!”
“Of course! Your name’s right there in black and red!”
“How did he get chosen? A farmer’s son, no title, no merit? The magistrate must be favoring him deliberately!”
Seeing Jiang Qi being praised, Wei Bai’s fury rose. A lowly bookkeeper he had mocked had been appointed clerk—wasn’t this a slap in the face? Accustomed to arrogance, Wei shouted all the way to the magistrate’s ears outside the office.
Just then, Ma Yingfan, passing by, heard and thundered: “How dare you insult the magistrate here! Such disrespect is intolerable! You, a scholar, should know proper manners. Guards, take him to the county school to be taught a lesson, so he won’t speak recklessly again!”
Wei Bai barely reacted before two clerks seized him.
“You dare? Let go! My father is—”
Before he could finish, a cloth gag was stuffed into his mouth, and the clerks dragged him off.
The commoners applauded and cheered, thoroughly entertained.
The next morning, when Du Heng arrived at the county office, the fourteen newly appointed clerks had already reported.
The personnel office was assigning duties and providing basic training to the new clerks.
Du Heng entered with his hands behind his back, observing and occasionally instructing: “The two clerks will follow me first. The personnel and ceremonial offices will teach you the office rules; I will assign the specific tasks.”
“Yes, sir,” the clerk responded quickly, then to the new hires: “Jiang Qi, Zhong Yuanzhi, follow the magistrate.”
An older man and a younger man stepped out of the line. Jiang Qi’s eyes gleamed as he looked at Du Heng, like a little gray dog waiting for a master’s attention.
They bowed respectfully.
Du Heng had chosen Jiang Qi for his quick wit and nimble calculations—perfect for tasks requiring agility, errands, measurements, and calculations. Zhong Yuanzhi, older and methodical, was suited to careful tasks such as recording household registers and handling procedural paperwork.
Now that the appointments had been made, Du Heng did not hold back in praising the two men, explaining the reasons they had been selected so that they could fully apply their strengths. He also briefly went over some of his own rules and assigned them their tasks.
“I shall handle matters with diligence and care, and not disappoint your trust, sir,” Jiang Qi replied.
Du Heng waved his hand, dismissing them to the clerks’ office next to the main hall to familiarize themselves with the workings of the county office.
Clutching a stack of scrolls to his chest, Jiang Qi walked out, unable to resist glancing back at Du Heng, who had lowered his gaze and returned to handling official matters. A smile spread across Jiang Qi’s face.
He knew it: the magistrate valued him, which was why he had been selected. Otherwise, why had others not been chosen?
The magistrate’s voice was like a clear stream, and his face was warm and gentle like moonlight on jade.
Jiang Qi felt that he would become a small star near that moon. Even if he could not solve every difficulty for the magistrate, he would always linger nearby, so that the magistrate would see his presence at every turn.
The clerks’ office was spacious, with a large desk and several bookcases filled with documents, emanating the comforting fragrance of books. This was far better than counting accounts at an eatery counter.
A sense of gratitude toward Du Heng rose naturally in Jiang Qi, along with a desire to serve him wholeheartedly.
By mid-July, the office had completed most of the personnel adjustments. After lunch, the heat left people drowsy, and the official half-hour break was just enough to eat; napping was difficult. Most were sluggish and weary.
Du Heng had just returned from the county school. A few days prior, Ma Yingfan had sent Wei Bai to the school for instruction, and Du Heng had been quite pleased with the outcome.
It wasn’t that he was petty about Wei Bai’s earlier slight or pleased that someone at the office had taken action on his behalf. Rather, it was that a scholar who ignores propriety, disregards hierarchy, and abuses his status must be properly educated. Otherwise, bearing a title without contributing to the office would only foster arrogance and rot; the civil exams would then have little meaning.
The county had regulations for such cases: if a scholar failed to maintain decorum, and a complaint was filed or the misconduct witnessed, he would be sent to the county school for proper instruction, restoring shame to his face. This had improved the local academic climate considerably.
“Sir, freshly brewed tea,” Jiang Qi said, presenting it to Du Heng.
Du Heng, still carrying the heat of the noon sun and lost in thought with pen in hand, placed his brush on the inkstone. Seeing Jiang Qi, he said, “Let the attendants handle such matters.”
Jiang Qi replied, “At this hour, people are tired. I mean no complaint; I just noticed one attendant dozing by the hall pillar. I couldn’t wake him, so I thought I’d bring you a cup to refresh him—and perhaps refresh you as well.”
Du Heng smiled faintly. “Young people are full of energy, little sleepiness. I suppose that means you, boy.”
Jiang Qi scratched the back of his head sheepishly. Du Heng sipped his tea, then exhaled slowly.
“I noticed a frown when you returned from the school. Is there something troubling you?” Jiang Qi asked.
Du Heng replied, “I went to the county school and remembered that my younger son also needs proper instruction. I’ve inquired for a while but haven’t found a suitable teacher.”
He hadn’t expected it to be so difficult to find a tutor for the child, unsure whether it was due to the county’s poverty or other reasons. He considered writing home to see if someone could be found, even if it meant spending more silver to bring the right person.
“You wish to find a teacher for Young Master Chengyi?” Jiang Qi asked.
Jiang Qi’s quick mind had fully absorbed Du Heng’s preferences and family situation, even in his short time at the office. He understood the ages of the children and that only the eldest son had reached the age for study. While boys might more easily find tutors, finding a scholar for a young girl was far more difficult. Knowing Du Heng wished to maintain a scholarly household, he sought a teacher even for the younger child.
Du Heng, aware that few families in Qiuyang County hired private tutors for children, found this completely reasonable. “Don’t worry. It’s rare for families here to hire instructors for their children. Even teaching a child basic literacy is considered progressive. Pupils themselves are so few, it’s common to not find a proper teacher.”
Jiang Qi said, “I couldn’t bear to see you troubled, so I only thought to share some information. In Ganchao Village, there’s someone who previously served as a tutor to a young master. It depends on whether you’re interested.”
Du Heng’s brow moved slightly. “Who is it?”
“Many years ago, the imperial court selected young women to serve as palace attendants. A few were sent from our county, and some were lost to their families for decades. Last year, after the previous emperor passed, a batch of palace maids and elder attendants were released. Unexpectedly, one returned to our county, surnamed Tang, living in the neighboring village to mine.”
“When the palace released the elder attendants, those without family support would be returned to their original homes. The Tang family had once been scholarly but had fallen on hard times, settling in Ganchao Village. They sent a daughter to serve as a palace maid out of poverty. The elder attendant, Tang, had been literate and was selected by the court.”
The saying goes that the halls of nobility are deeper than the sea; once inside, it was nearly impossible to know their fate.
“The girl who went to the palace is now an old woman, her hair grayed, her beauty faded. Sadly, the Tang family has long since died out. Now that the elder attendant has returned, she has nowhere to go and earns small coins writing letters. If you wish, sir, I can go fetch her. Surely, she would rather teach children than write letters.”
Older people enjoy liveliness and are fond of children. Moreover, having spent decades navigating the intrigues of the palace, it would be a waste for such a woman to be limited to writing occasional family letters in a rural village.
Du Heng considered her an excellent choice. An elder like her, experienced and well-traveled, would know proper etiquette inside out; having her teach Chengyi would be a rare opportunity.
Yet, since he genuinely wished to engage her for instruction, Du Heng felt it insufficient to merely send Jiang Qi. When the day of rest came, he and Qin Xiaoman took a small gift and personally traveled to Ganchao Village.
This was Du Heng’s first opportunity to visit the countryside since taking office, and it happened to coincide with the harvest season. The fields and hills were alive with villagers moving about.
Qin Xiaoman looked over the scene, the familiarity stirring memories of her own life in the countryside.
Alighting from the carriage, she quickly stepped onto a narrow ridge between fields. In July, the farmers were still harvesting corn, while the rice paddies showed a mix of yellow and green. She bent down and pinched a handful of rice, sighing softly. “See these paddies? There’s barely any water; the drought is severe. Half of the rice will be empty grains.”
Being a seasoned farmer himself, Du Heng could gauge the growth and yield at a glance. The corn was small, kernels sparse and uneven.
“Elder, how is the harvest this year?”
A farmer in a straw hat glanced at Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman. Seeing them unfamiliar yet accompanied by carriage and attendants, he immediately assumed they were from a wealthy county family.
He replied gruffly, “Good or bad, it’s all hardship for the farmers. What concern is it of you silver-wrapped nobility?”
From behind, Jiang Qi shouted, “How dare you speak so!”
The old farmer straightened his neck. “Old men like me don’t speak with any pretension.”
“Answer the question plainly! What’s with that tone?” Jiang Qi scolded.
The farmer sneered, “The farmers do the work, but the pockets that swell are those of the office and the gentry. Why should an old man like me bother with pleasantries?”
Jiang Qi felt a chill run down his spine. Speaking ill of the county office in front of the magistrate could be seen as insulting him. He wanted to intervene, but Du Heng spoke first: “Explain yourself.”
The farmer, though dissatisfied, let it drop. Saying more could stir real trouble. In these harsh years, surviving drought and disease was no small feat; he valued his life too much to court danger.
“The old man has been sunstruck and spoke nonsense,” Du Heng said lightly.
Jiang Qi exhaled in relief; at least the farmer hadn’t continued. The sun had only just risen, and the ground was still cool, so claiming sunstroke seemed deliberate.
Qin Xiaoman patted Du Heng’s hand. “Let’s not disturb him further; we should go.”
Du Heng sighed, knowing there was nothing more to glean, and had Jiang Qi lead the way.
Seeing that Du Heng bore no grudge, Jiang Qi relaxed and guided them, bending low as he pointed the way. “This way, please.”
They walked along country paths until reaching a small walled courtyard.
The house was old, the roof moss-streaked and worn, but the courtyard was clean and orderly. Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman, observing its layout, almost felt as if they had returned to their own humble family farmhouse.
Hearing the noise outside, an elder woman emerged. Though called a “grandmother,” she carried herself with dignity, her posture straight, hair carefully pinned, appearing no older than forty.
“May I ask who you are?” she said.
Jiang Qi stepped forward quickly. “Grandmother Tang, I came yesterday and spoke with you.”
The woman’s eyes brightened. “Ah, it’s the magistrate. Please do not find my home humble; sit in my poor house.”
Du Heng replied graciously, “Your courtyard is clean and well-kept; there is no cause for complaint. Today we come unannounced, so please accept this small gift.”
Grandmother Tang did not refuse. She accepted the offering, welcomed them inside, and immediately brewed tea.
“Yesterday, young Master Jiang already explained the magistrate’s request. I did not expect Your Honor to come in person despite your duties. How have I earned such honor?”
Her words were not mere courtesy. Across the world, parents loved their children and often sought tutors for sons to continue the family line. Rarely did they do so for daughters or younger sons. In Beijing, it had been fashionable to employ released palace elders as instructors. Some noble families had even extended offers to her. Had she stayed, life would have been easy.
But after years away, all her old companions had passed, leaving her alone. Returning to her hometown, she had no family left and now lived a solitary, idle life.
Qin Xiaoman spoke humbly: “I am but a country girl with little literacy, unskilled in proper conduct, and dare not teach children. Grandmother Tang, your character and experience are rare. If you can guide our young master, it would be a blessing for generations.”
Grandmother Tang looked at the couple with interest and made no objection. “Your Honors have graciously visited. I am overjoyed. To have the honor of teaching the young master would indeed be a pleasure.”
Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman realized then that she had accepted, pleasantly surprised at how smoothly matters had progressed.
Madam Tang had, over the course of her life, seen more high officials and nobles than almost anyone in all of Qiuyang County could claim. If an ordinary person came to invite her, they might not even be able to move her; Du Heng’s modest official rank certainly was not enough to make her look at him twice.
Officials were common enough, but a father’s wholehearted, tender concern for a ge’er or jie’er was not. Du Heng’s care and affection for his ge’er stirred Madam Tang a little, as a woman who herself had been born a jie’er.
Born into this world, who did not wish for a good father?
Madam Tang was, after all, getting on in years, and it was not convenient for her to travel back and forth every day. Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman therefore invited her to move into the inner residence of the county yamen, tidied up a room for her to stay in. It was much more convenient that way, and she could also instruct the child at any time.
And so the matter was settled.
Three days later, when Madam Tang packed up her bundle and moved into the inner residence of the county yamen, she met Chengyi for the first time.
White as congealed jade, a little fellow with big, blinking eyes stood at the doorway and called out in a soft, sweet voice, “Hello, Madam Tang.”
Perhaps he had been taught manners at home; his small hands rested at his sides as he dipped slightly in a clumsy little bow, so endearing it made one’s heart ache.
No wonder his old father, an official, had personally gone to invite an elderly woman who had come out of the palace. What father would not want to teach such a lovable child a few more things? Otherwise, the child might be easily coaxed and deceived by others in the future.
She reached out and beckoned the child over. “Good child. From now on, this old woman will certainly teach you well. I may not be able to spare you from all the hardships of this world, but I can at least teach you how to respond when hardship comes.”
At that moment, from behind a pillar, a little brat who had been secretly observing withdrew his round, shining eyes.
Dan Ce had heard early that morning from the servant dressing him that a scholar was coming to the house—a tutor specially invited by Father and Little Father to teach Sweet Cake. He was told not to shout or make a fuss and offend the madam.
He had not even finished putting on his clothes before he shook off the servant and ran out. Sure enough, she had really come!
He hid carefully behind them, watching his older brother being led away by the elderly madam, and sniffed a little.
Then, with a burst of thudding footsteps, he ran straight into Qin Xiaoman’s room.
“Now you can finally rest easy. A madam who came out of the palace has far broader horizons than those female or ge’er tutors. She will certainly teach our Sweet Cake to be more well-behaved, to read a little, to understand propriety. In the future, he’ll have more choices of his own.”
Qin Xiaoman cared about matters concerning his ge’er, but now was not the time to talk about that. He stopped what he was doing and smacked Du Heng lightly on the mouth, frowning as he said, “Don’t talk while I’m shaving you. If I cut you, don’t blame me.”
He had never been good at such delicate tasks, but he also did not want those little maids shaving Du Heng. Today he had deliberately found a blade that was not very sharp to practice with.
Seeing Du Heng still chattering away with his mouth moving nonstop, he flared up.
“All right, all right.”
Afraid of getting slapped again, Du Heng quickly pressed his lips together, lifted his chin slightly, and cooperated obediently as he looked at his husband.
Qin Xiaoman pinched the blade and cautiously reached toward the area above Du Heng’s upper lip. With a loud bang, Qin Xiaoman jerked in fright, and the blade swept straight across Du Heng’s lip.
“Hiss!”
The closed door flew open. For a moment, Qin Xiaoman did not know whether to look outside first, or cover the spot where the blade had nicked skin, or whether Du Heng should cover his mouth first.
“Why did you come over here?”
Dan Ce stared in surprise at the two fathers tangled together and toddled forward. “What are Father and Little Father doing?”
Du Heng felt a bit awkward. He patted Qin Xiaoman’s back and had him climb off himself.
“Little Father is shaving Father!”
Dan Ce’s eyes widened. “Then why is Little Father sitting on Father?”
Du Heng cleared his throat. “Little Father’s eyesight isn’t very good. He has to sit closer to shave properly.”
Qin Xiaoman shot Du Heng a glare and said righteously to Dan Ce, “Your father just likes talking nonsense. This is how shaving is done once you grow a beard. When you grow up and have a beard of your own, you’ll understand.”
Dan Ce was half convinced and half doubtful, but all he cared about was his older brother. He immediately asked, “Then can I shave Brother too?”
Qin Xiaoman snorted angrily. “Your brother doesn’t grow a beard!”
Dan Ce could not understand why, if they were all people, Little Father was so certain his brother would never grow a beard. But his brother was so fair and soft—if he really did grow a beard, that would be very strange.
He shook his head, almost forgetting the important matter. “Dan Ce wants Madam to teach him too!”
“What do you, a little boy, need Madam to teach you? Teach you how to tease little ge’er and girls?”
Qin Xiaoman grabbed Dan Ce. All day long, this child only knew how to cause trouble. “When you’re a bit older, Father will find you a proper tutor to open your studies. Do you think you’ll be able to run away then?”
Dan Ce refused to give in. “Brother is taught too!”
“You’re a boy. Your brother is a ge’er.”
Du Heng wiped away the bit of blood seeping from his lip. It hurt a little, but he still could not help lecturing the rowdy little fellow. “What Madam Tang teaches your brother and what she teaches boys are somewhat different. The customs for men and for ge’er are not the same. For example, what your brother learns for marriage—you, as a boy, don’t need to learn. When you marry a wife in the future, your brother won’t need to learn those things either.”
“No, no! Dan Ce wants to be the same as Brother. Teach marriage! Dan Ce wants to learn marriage too!”
Dan Ce burst into an unstoppable wail. Du Heng’s head started to ache twice over. “Oh, you little rascal! Keep shouting and I’ll marry you off and keep your brother at home!”