SEHE Chapter 78

Assessment

Pei Yanci was silent for a moment, finally understanding why this place was in such chaos.

A dignified Chancellor, using a broken table that could collapse at any moment—it was far too shabby.

“It’s fine, you’ll get used to it after it collapses a few more times. But next time, remember not to touch these papers.” Qi Xiang, acting like an experienced veteran, extended his hand to pull away those crumpled pages from Pei Yanci’s grasp, tossing them aside as he went to lift the table.

“Give me a hand.”

Pei Yanci stood at the other end lifting the tabletop while saying, “Daren, regarding those reform methods you wrote, I’ve been here several days now, but they haven’t been mentioned in the regulations others have told me about.”

The two of them worked together to right the table. Pei Yanci casually grabbed some waste paper to stuff into the gap between the tabletop and table leg. After glancing at how the paper was wedged in, he straightened up nonchalantly and dusted off his hands.

“What reform?” Qi Xiang smacked his lips—having drunk too much, his mouth was dry and parched. Suddenly slapping his forehead, he said, “Oh, you mean the reform of the Imperial Academy. I was wondering where I’d put it. Been looking for it for days—turns out I used it to prop up the table.”

“…” This paper was clearly wedged in deliberately. If it had been stuffed normally under the table surface into the crack, he wouldn’t have been able to see it at all, much less sort it out.

Qi Xiang let out a wine-laden belch. The sour, rancid smell was so bad even he couldn’t stand it. He waved his hand in front of himself and said, “Good thing you found it. Turns out I forgot to do this. Perfect timing—as you know, I’ll be retiring in August, so I won’t be managing affairs these last two months. I’ve sat in this position for all these years, always wanting to address some of the Imperial Academy’s existing problems, but for various reasons, I’ve delayed until now. What’s written above is a small friend of mine’s insights on reform. Take it down and study it, figure out a way to draft a proposal, and promulgate it in a few days.”

“Daren, you’ve been in this position for over ten years without being able to solve it, yet you want this humble official to draft a solution in just a few days?” Pei Yanci didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Although he also wanted to earn merit, this was moving far too fast.

“The most important step in reform is discovering the problem—only then can you address it precisely. Now I’ve solved that for you. All that’s left is to prescribe the right medicine for each ailment.”

A strange light flashed in his eyes as he turned to use a pole to prop open the window for ventilation.

“The room’s filled with stale air—time to let in some fresh.”

“Alright.” Pei Yanci shook his head, picked up the scattered books and papers, aligned and stacked them neatly, folded the paper with the problems and reforms written on it, and tucked it into his sleeve. In the blink of an eye, Qi Xiang’s snoring was already thunderously loud.

He smiled, pulled a blanket over him, and withdrew from the room.

Leaving the dormitory quarters, he returned to the Gewu Hall and happened to run into Fang Qingdu, who, smelling the wine scent clinging to him, asked, “Chancellor Qi came?”

“Yes, I encountered him at the entrance earlier and helped him to the office dormitory to rest.”

Fang Qingdu raised his eyelids, his eyes carrying a mixture of wariness and disdain. “Don’t let his constant drunken stupor fool you. He’s clear as a mirror inside—who has genuine talent and learning, who got in through connections—he distinguishes perfectly and no one can interfere with his decisions.”

“I suppose in Fang Daren’s eyes, I’m the latter type?”

“You know in your own heart.” Fang Qingdu sneered coldly.

“Does Fang Daren seem to hold some prejudice against me?”

“I wouldn’t dare. Pei Daren, don’t be too suspicious. The Imperial Academy has no common visitors—we’re not like those sycophantic schemers you once associated with. Everyone here is treated equally; we’re not the type to step on the low and curry favor with the high.”

So was he judging a gentleman’s heart with his own petty mind?

“So, having me teach Xu Du and the others—that wasn’t Fang Daren’s idea then?”

Fang Qingdu’s face remained stern, showing not a ripple of emotion.

“Then it must have been Chancellor Daren’s idea.” Pei Yanci smiled slightly. “I’ve come to appreciate his thoughtful intentions.”

So winning over Xu Du was Qi Xiang’s entrance assessment for him.

Now, reforming the Imperial Academy was the formal assessment.

As fellow Vice Chancellors, Fang Qingdu must have also received a similar assessment. This assessment was likely Qi Xiang’s basis for selecting his successor.

Fang Qingdu had been at the Imperial Academy for years—his authority was formidable, he was beloved, and he was familiar with all the regulations. He himself had only been here less than half a month and was at a severe disadvantage in this regard.

However, the position of Imperial Academy Chancellor—he found it quite interesting and wanted to give it a try.

Fang Qingdu pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Never mind other matters—look at what you’ve taught them. Calling students brothers, utterly lacking in dignity as a teacher, simply improper. There’s less than half a month until the end-of-month assessment. You’d better teach them properly during this time, or you’ll make a fool of yourself and become a laughingstock.”

“Is Fang Daren afraid that if I teach too poorly, Chancellor Daren will give the job of teaching those students back to you?”

“Good intentions taken for donkey’s liver and lungs.” Fang Qingdu snorted coldly and strode away.

(TL: This idiom means “my kindness was completely misunderstood” or “good intentions were taken the wrong way.”)

****

Today Pei Yanci didn’t teach those youngsters Zhou Yi divination. He spent the afternoon looking at those wine-reeking pages and discovered that the person who drafted this document had a particular characteristic.

He could point out the Imperial Academy’s current problems with penetrating insight—perceptive as if gazing at a fire, every word a pearl. But when it came to discussing solutions, he always used the Confucian ideal of a Great Harmony society as a benchmark to compare with present times, making his ideas seem lofty and impractical.

This was the type of expert who could identify problems but couldn’t solve them.

Somehow, Pei Yanci recalled the previous tax law reform.

The person who first noticed the emerging flaws in the tax law—he had previously speculated it was a guest scholar of Minister Zheng, then later guessed it was Tang Xizhui, until Tang Xizhui told him that person’s name was Xiao Yu.

For a moment, his heart felt a bit restless.

The Emperor always hungrily sought talents with special abilities in certain areas.

He wasn’t surprised that Qi Xiang could point out such sharp, incisive problems. It was just that this “small friend” of his lacked sufficient depth, like a bookworm immersed in his own world who came up with these methods.

****

Contemplating these matters along the way, the carriage unknowingly came to a stop. Wuli said quietly, “Big Brother, we’ve arrived at the Overseer’s mansion.”

A hand with distinct knuckles emerged from inside, hooking aside the sandalwood brown silk curtain. A tall, slender figure bent forward and stepped out. “Go back first. Take good care of Wushu and the others tonight.”

“You’re not coming back tonight?” Seeing him nimbly jump down from the carriage, Wuli couldn’t help but ask in surprise.

His crescent-shaped eyes squinted slightly in the setting sun, his smile gentle. “Mm, not coming back.”

Wuli’s face went somewhat wooden, as if thinking of something. “Alright then.”

Seeing him just turn to leave, Wuli quickly called out, “Remember to bring back a box of sour plum goose slices tomorrow.”

“…Can’t you worry about your big brother’s safety instead of just food?” This trip was like a sheep entering the tiger’s den.

At least before, Wuli would pretend to care about him with a few words.

Wuli waved his hand to shoo him along, the horse beneath him already starting to trot forward. Still, he didn’t forget to instruct, “It must be made by the Overseer mansion’s chef. The ones bought outside are terrible—I can tell the difference.”

Such a foodie—why not just castrate himself and become a eunuch at the Overseer’s mansion?

Pei Yanci looked around, then walked to the gatehouse. Before he could speak, a eunuch emerged from the small door and ushered him inside.

“Pei Daren, please come in.”

“I’ve seen you before—do you serve at Nine-Thousand-Years’ side?” He had an impression of anyone he’d seen once. “I just didn’t ask your name at the time, which was regrettable.”

“It’s rare for Daren to remember this slave,” the man said hurriedly, his face full of flattery. “This slave is called Wan Xi. I became Nine-Thousand-Years’ godson a few months ago.”

“An auspicious name.”

Pei Yanci had lived in this mansion for a few days before and was fairly familiar with it. He didn’t need Wan Xi to lead the way now. He strode quickly toward Tang Xizhui’s courtyard. Just as he pushed open the door, he happened to see Tang Xizhui’s body leaning sideways against a rosewood chair.

For some reason, he detected a sense of hurriedness about this person.

Perhaps it was because a lock of hair had fallen across his cheek, brushing past those breathtakingly magnificent eyes, creating an air of pitiable innocence, of yielding resistance. Previously, even in bed, he had looked poised and effortlessly composed. Seeing him now like this made Pei Yanci lose focus for a moment, temporarily forgetting to pay his respects.

Huo Cun emerged from the room and obsequiously performed a bow. “Greetings to Pei Daren. Since Pei Daren’s promotion, you’ve rarely visited the mansion. Don’t worry—this one has sent people to make thorough preparations.”

As the second-in-command of the Elu Bureau and Punishments Officer of a Thousand Households, covering up traces of Pei Yanci’s visits here was utterly effortless for him.

“I may come and go frequently in the future. I’ll have to trouble Huo Daren.” Pei Yanci also returned the bow with cupped hands.

Since he was in the official world, it came down to rank. These formalities had to be observed.

Seeing him neither humble nor arrogant, showing not the slightest hint of sarcastic mockery or humiliation, Huo Cun’s face showed even more alarm. “What are you doing? You’re too kind to this slave.”

He hooked his slender pinky fingernail and raised his hand to support Pei Yanci’s wrist, but a throat-clearing sound came from behind, startling him into quickly retracting his hand with an awkward smile.

“The sun must be rising in the west. Pei Daren, with all your important affairs, has finally deigned to come check if this lord is alive or dead.”

Fine threads of water splashed out from the waterwheel by the small stream beside them. Tang Xizhui had one hand propped against his forehead, elbow resting on the armrest, languid and casual. His eyelids were painted with light pink rouge, his long, thick, curled lashes hooked with several crystalline water droplets, fanning languidly. The lotus-pink and white summer robe he wore was thin yet crisply tailored, its hem scattered messily around his bare feet.

A living portrait of a beauty savoring summer.

“Greetings to Nine-Thousand-Years.” Pei Yanci suppressed his amusement and also performed a bow to him.

“Dispensed with. This lord finds these formalities most tiresome. All of you, withdraw.”

The crowd of eunuchs surrounding the courtyard silently withdrew. Huo Cun was the last to leave, hesitating before closing the courtyard gate.

Wan Xi, seeing him like this, said coolly, “The Thousand Households seems quite friendly with Pei Daren.”

Huo Cun’s obsequious flattery dissipated without a trace as the courtyard gate closed, as if he’d returned to being that person who once wielded a whip in the Elu Bureau’s prison, capable of striking Pei Yanci.

He scratched his scalp with his pinky fingernail, looking him up and down. “It’s alright. As for you, you’re still far from ready.”

Constantly attending Tang Xizhui, they naturally knew Pei Yanci’s importance.

However, Pei Yanci was also the first person to treat him like a human being.

A thread of melancholy settled between Huo Cun’s brows, though it was quickly replaced by his usual sinister ruthlessness.

“Pei Daren won’t look favorably on you. Rein in those filthy thoughts of yours. Don’t think you can use him to curry favor with Godfather.”

Wan Xi watched his retreating figure, his eyes darkening slightly.

Inside the courtyard, Pei Yanci, seeing no one around, said, “Nine-Thousand-Years, I need your help with something.”

“Indeed, you never visit without reason.” Tang Xizhui sneered coldly. Just as he was about to straighten up, thinking of something, he leaned back again.

“Speak.”

“That Xiao Yu who draws spring palace pictures for you—could you introduce me?”

“I think about you every day at the Overseer’s mansion, and the first thing you do when you open your mouth is ask for another man.”

“Alright, stop performing.” Pei Yanci smiled. “I know you’re terribly bored without me coming around, so here I am, personally delivering myself to you. Deliberately saying these jealous things is pointless—I’ll just leave.”

“You’re just relying on this lord’s favor to act willfully. Now you dare demand people from me. What, do you also want to buy a couple of spring palace picture books?” As he spoke, Tang Xizhui’s lips curved into a wicked smile, looking exactly like a peach blossom transformed into a man-eating demon.

He extended his hand, his withered-pale, slender fingers hooking onto Pei Yanci’s brown-green fine silk wave-patterned waist sash. His eyelids lifted, raising his gaze, as if unable to bear the powerful aura emanating from Pei Yanci’s upright, vigorous frame. He squinted slightly, his eyes gradually becoming hazy, moist. Because of the pink powder and rouge painted on his eyelids, an air of pitiable harmlessness was added.

One hand propped his head while the other slowly hooked and drew the person closer.

“No, it’s a proper matter.” Pei Yanci didn’t refuse, letting him make his scene.

The disheveled hair hanging by his cheek looked innocent, pure, delicate. His scarlet-soft lips parted slightly, the tip of his small tongue tracing across his teeth, licking his lips.

Pei Yanci wore a moss-green lightweight satin robe that clung softly to his body, his waist sash cinching it slender. From the moment he entered, Tang Xizhui’s gaze hadn’t left it.

Only Tang Xizhui knew that stripped of these clothes, this lean-muscled waist was so flexible it could be bent to his liking.

He raised his gaze again, lifting that androgynously beautiful face, and smiled. “Once you’re here with me, you won’t be allowed to be proper.”

“Spring palace pictures are dead objects—how can they compare to this servant personally serving you?”