The next day, Shen Zechuan was to go to the Jinyiwei to receive his official post. Just then, Xi Guan’an’s younger brother, Xi Hongxuan, was hosting a banquet, inviting the recent young talents of the capital for elegant discussion in the Chao Dong Tower.
Xi Hongxuan, a rotund man, needed an attendant to fan him when seated. Holding a bamboo fan, he said, “I’ve been fortunate this year. Though Yan Qing couldn’t come, Yuan Zhuo did!”
Xue Xiuzhuo held an official position and was absent that day. The “Yuan Zhuo” Xi Hongxuan mentioned was none other than Yao Wenyu, the beloved disciple of the esteemed Hai Liangyi of the current Haige. The three were intimate not only because they hailed from the capital’s eight prominent families, but also due to lifelong friendship.
At that moment, a pearl curtain was lifted, and a gentleman of refined elegance entered, wearing a dark-blue slanted-collar robe with wide sleeves, a decorative satchel hanging at his waist. He smiled upon hearing the greetings. All present scholars rose to welcome him, and a flurry of polite exchanges filled the hall.
Yao Wenyu bowed to each, then invited everyone to sit. “We meet every year; I am hardly worthy of ‘rare’ praise,” he said humbly.
Though modest, no one present dared underestimate him. Yao Wenyu had been a prodigy since childhood, composing poetry at eight, and composing odes at twelve. The Yao family patriarch cherished him like a precious jade, and to preserve his talent, he was placed under Hai Liangyi’s tutelage. Hai Liangyi, strict and exacting, valued Yao Wenyu above all his students.
After casual chatter, the conversation turned to recent political developments.
Xi Hongxuan waved for attendants to stop fanning. “In the capital, a curious matter has arisen. Do you recall Shen Wei, Prince of Zhongbo Jianxing, who five years ago, in fear of punishment, set himself ablaze?”
“Cowardice! Betraying the state, colluding with enemies!” a scholar rose stiffly. “By law, he should be executed along with his entire clan. Yet the Emperor, merciful, spared the remaining Shen family. And now I hear that one of their offspring has been released. Shen Wei’s crimes are undeniable; how can his son hold office? How can the world’s talents trust this?”
“Indeed,” Xi Hongxuan said. “How can this happen? There’s no precedent.”
“Most likely, the Empress Dowager seeks to protect him,” another said. “It’s rumored this survivor has connections with the Hua family. Yet personal matters cannot outweigh the law—this undermines justice!”
Xi Hongxuan sighed: “This sets a dangerous precedent, giving other guilty heirs opportunities in the future.”
The scholars became agitated. Given Shen Wei’s crimes, they could not tolerate Shen Zechuan’s release.
“And Yuan Zhuo, what do you think?”
Yao Wenyu sipped tea calmly. “I’ve been away from the capital. I know little, so how can I speak?”
Xi Hongxuan, understanding, said: “True, you travel often, unaware of local affairs.”
Someone added: “We are all well-educated scholars, versed in law and virtue. We cannot remain silent.”
Xi Hongxuan asked: “Then what should we do?”
A scholar said: “We are students of the National Academy. If we rise as one, the Emperor must reconsider. Let us go, kneel at the Hall of Enlightenment, and petition His Majesty to revoke the decree and punish the Shen heir!”
A chorus of agreement followed. Xi Hongxuan clasped his hands and praised: “Excellent! You are indeed the pillars of the state. A single kneel today, and your fame lasts forever. I am humbled; though not of the Academy, I shall join you.”
The scholar responded: “Impossible! Your elder brother commands one of the Eight Battalions. If implicated, the cost is too great. We shall go in your stead.”
After the banquet, Yao Wenyu had some soft, easy-to-eat meat steamed by the innkeeper. He listened to the scholars downstairs whispering:
“‘Jade of the capital’ Yuan Zhuo? A coward! See how timid he was just now, barely daring a word. Not comparable to Hongxuan’s virtue!”
Yao Wenyu popped a pine nut into his mouth and smiled silently, refusing to argue. When the meat was ready, he left; most guests had already departed.
“Shall I escort you?” Xi Hongxuan asked.
“No,” Yao Wenyu said, holding the meat. “I’m going to my teacher’s residence.”
After parting, Xi Hongxuan watched Yao Wenyu’s retreating figure, sneered briefly, then said: “Let’s go.”
Meanwhile, Shen Zechuan had arrived at the Jinyiwei courtyard. The moment he stepped over the threshold, all eyes turned toward him. The busy Jinyiwei paused to glance at him.
Gu Qingqing guided him toward the post room. “Our Jinyiwei are divided into four types. One, civilian recruits: families with sisters serving as palace maids. Sons joining Jinyiwei carry temporary badges, exempt from duties, without salary—like Xiao Wu. Two, those recommended by palace eunuchs, called ‘official endorsement.’ Commanders are chosen this way. Three, military families, inheriting positions by imperial favor—myself included. Four, specialized talents, selected by the Emperor for their skill. You will encounter such people later.”
Gu Qingqing lifted a curtain. “Your post, the registry, is right here.”
Shen Zechuan entered; the chatter ceased. Jinyiwei of different attire and badges turned to him. Silence fell.
“Shen Zechuan?” A man sitting with legs crossed behind a desk looked up. “So it’s you.”
Shen Zechuan saw him wearing a flying-fish robe, reserved for ranks above deputy captain. He bowed slightly: “Yes, it is I.”
The man had hair falling over his forehead and an unshaven face, with a casual air. He stroked his chin and laughed: “Truly the son of a dancer. Not wasted, as Shen Wei once spent a fortune for a smile. Qingqing, give him the badge.”
He tossed the prepared badge to Gu Qingqing, who handed it to Shen Zechuan.
“This is Qiao Tianya,” she said, “our Jinyiwei Zhenfu, here personally to deliver your badge.”
Shen Zechuan examined the badge, then looked at Qiao Tianya.
“Your post is the Elephant Training Division. Qingqing will guide you there. Now, some rules.” Qiao Tianya continued: “Our badges, like those of the Eight Battalions, are precious. When off duty, keep them safe; never lend them. Though we have twelve divisions, our true duty is serving the Emperor. What the Emperor commands, we obey. Besides division duties, we take turns as ‘ears and eyes’ for the palace. Major operations require imperial authorization, official documents, and a special arrest badge. Tasks are assigned not by me or commanders, but by drawing lots.”
Shen Zechuan, having been instructed by Ji Gang before, nodded silently.
“One last thing,” Qiao Tianya said, standing and surveying the room. “All Jinyiwei are brothers. Hang the badge, and you are one of us. Past grievances vanish; no secret sabotage. If discovered, the badge is revoked and you are sent to the imperial prison.”
All eyes returned to their work.
Qiao Tianya, satisfied, said to Shen Zechuan: “Go.”
Shen Zechuan bowed and followed Gu Qingqing out.
“I expected a post like the Fan-Scheduling Division,” Gu Qingqing said. “Elephant Training… well, that works.”
“I imagined many possibilities,” Shen Zechuan smiled. “Just didn’t think I’d train elephants.”
“The Horse Training Division is ideal—fine steeds for nobles. Familiarity helps promotion. Elephant Training… not exactly leisurely, with morning ceremonies. Those elephants are difficult. But the commander rarely visits, so trouble is limited.”
The Elephant Training Division adjoined the King’s City, along the Mingli Road, reaching the Kailin River. In summer, elephants were driven to the river to drink and bathe. During morning audiences, six elephants stood on either side of the imperial steps; on holidays and hunts, the number increased. These elephants attended court like officials. They could endure what sick human officials could not. They were on rotational duty, like the Jinyiwei themselves.
Shen Zechuan, who had never kept even a dog, now found himself supervising elephants—truly, life is unpredictable.
As they walked, footsteps hurried behind them.
Gu Qingqing turned: “What is it?”
A Jinyiwei runner caught up, face serious: “Your badge is suspended. You cannot report today. Return immediately!”
Shen Zechuan asked: “Has a new imperial decree come?”
“No decree yet, but three thousand National Academy students are on hunger strike, kneeling, demanding the Emperor revoke the order and punish the Shen family.”
Gu Qingqing’s face paled as she looked at Shen Zechuan.
Xiao Chiye, under house arrest, was flipping through a script, hearing that Prince Chu had arrived, but he didn’t bother to rise.
“Under house arrest?” Xiao Chiye, eating fruit, didn’t look up. “How dare you swagger in here?”
Li Jianheng threw down Xiao Chiye’s governor badge, agitated: “Ce’an! Major trouble!”
Xiao Chiye twitched an eyebrow.
Li Jianheng said: “Three thousand students kneeling, demanding severe punishment for Shen Zechuan! They’ve knelt till nightfall, using hunger strike to force the Emperor. He heard this at dinner and now is furious on his bed!”
Xiao Chiye looked at the badge: “Throw it.”
“…The Eight Battalions cannot disperse students. I was to deliver your badge. If the imperial guards can disperse them tonight, your debts vanish!” Li Jianheng stamped his foot in panic. “Simple for a few unarmed students. This is good news!”
Xiao Chiye covered his face with a book, silent for a moment, teeth gritted: “This really is… good news.”
National Academy students were future bureaucrats and influenced local scholars. Xi Guan’an knew better than to provoke them—a hot potato. Tonight, if Xiao Chiye acted against them, their pens and words would bury him in the future.
“Where is Shen Zechuan now?” Xiao Chiye suddenly sat up, bracing himself.
“Reportedly at the Jinyiwei registry since early morning,” Li Jianheng said, putting on his coat. “Shall we go? Find Shen Zechuan?”
Xiao Chiye mounted his horse; Chen Yang had it ready. He spurred forward without hesitation.