SEHE Chapter 11

The Scholar

“Huh?” Wushu was somewhat bewildered. “But you’re also a man.”

“Exactly, so how can one start a family?” Pei Yanci said, a barely perceptible flash of sorrow crossing his eyes.

At the age of thirteen or fourteen, he had discovered his difference from others.

Ordinary high officials and nobles who played with men and favored male prostitutes were merely seeking novelty and amusement.

He was different—he couldn’t accept any woman’s proximity and only liked men.

Yet his taste was particular; ordinary people couldn’t catch his eye.

In his previous life, the only time his heart had stirred was when his young general returned triumphant from quelling a rebellion.

The spirited young man, bearing the bloodthirsty aura of battle and sharp determination, strode into the Golden Luan Hall, one hand resting on his sword, lifting the hem of his armor and battle robes as he knelt before the imperial platform. Though prostrated below, his spine remained straight, his head held high with defiant pride.

After the imperial rewards, he had specially invited the man to sit quietly in the rear garden. That night they conversed with great pleasure, and afterward they often kept each other company, inseparable. Pei Yanci had even granted him many exclusive privileges, indulging his growing power.

When the young general’s heart was also moved, he knew the time was ripe. During a shared drink, taking advantage of the slight intoxication, he let the general push him down beneath him.

The next moment wine cups overturned, and the man who had shown no fear before a hundred thousand rebel troops, who had privately spoken with close ministers about threatening the emperor to command the feudal lords, turned deathly pale and rolled to the floor, trembling as he begged for mercy, breaking down completely.

His wine-induced haze had cleared.

Everything became utterly tasteless.

The path to becoming a sage ruler was the same as the path to tyranny—both were filled with blood and bones.

Their fear was only natural.

He had merely made the slightest advance, and this person was already terrified out of his wits.

To press an emperor with real power beneath oneself was a crime warranting the execution of nine generations of one’s family. They didn’t even dare harbor such thoughts.

How pathetic.

When that young general began crying and begging for mercy, Pei Yanci had already begun to feel disgusted with him.

He disliked weak people.

In that moment, he understood that while enjoying the exhilaration of being at the pinnacle of power, some things were inevitably lost.

Such as inconsequential romantic love.

“Great Yu has many Nanfeng Houses,” Wushu said quietly, his face reddening. “Gentle, considerate, and obedient—buying one or two to warm the bed should be quite nice.”

Pei Yanci burst into laughter. “You little child, don’t worry about other people’s affairs.”

“I’m not a child anymore,” he protested.

“Right, you’ve visited Nanfeng Houses, so you must be an adult now.”

“I’ve never been! These things—I only heard about them when listening to Wu Can and the others chatting,” Wushu’s face grew even redder. “Steward Yue did mention taking me to Hongxiu House to see the world.”

“Absolutely ridiculous,” Pei Yanci shook his head.

“Where are we going?” Wushu simply climbed out of the carriage compartment to sit alongside him, his two slender legs swinging back and forth in the loose trouser legs.

“To see some people,” Pei Yanci said seemingly casually. “How does Steward Yue usually treat you?”

“Pretty well,” Wushu said, bobbing his head. “Though he seems unreliable, he’s genuinely good to me. I even thought about setting him up with my mother… Why are you laughing!”

“I’m not,” Pei Yanci suppressed his smile and said, “If that’s the case, then forget it.”

“Forget what?”

“This isn’t something a child like you should worry about.”

“You’re saying that again.” Wushu puffed out his cheeks to express his displeasure. “In a few more years, I can be a steward too.”

“We’ll talk when you actually become a steward,” Pei Yanci said, cracking the whip again.

****

They arrived at a secluded small courtyard. Pei Yanci told Wushu to wait in the carriage while he jumped down, then turned back to look behind them.

“What’s wrong? I won’t run off to play,” Wushu sometimes showed maturity beyond his years, understanding what was serious business and what was important.

Pei Yanci shook his head—he wasn’t worried about that.

After thinking for a moment, he still beckoned, “Come in with me.”

Wushu immediately stuffed the remaining walnut pastries into his mouth with delight, jumped down from the carriage, and quickly caught up in a few steps, afraid he might change his mind.

“Who are we meeting?” he asked with bulging cheeks.

“A tutor. If you were from an ordinary family, you’d already be of school age.”

“Huh?” Wushu nearly choked on the dry pastry.

“School?” It was such a foreign concept. “I think I’ll go back to the carriage.”

Pei Yanci simply dragged him inside.

In the main hall, Jiang Yi was already waiting. Upon seeing them, he immediately rose to greet them. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

He had only asked someone to inquire about the Crown Prince’s intentions last night, and today he received word, so they arranged to meet at the Jiang family’s separate residence.

“How could I not come when it concerns His Highness the Crown Prince,” Pei Yanci said, having Jiang Yi’s attendant take Wushu to a side room for tea and snacks.

“Will His Highness the Crown Prince really help us?” At this moment, a middle-aged man with a beautiful beard emerged from the inner hall—it was Fang Hongchun, the great scholar Fang.

Following half a step behind him were three others, wearing the distinctive blue and white robes of Qingcheng Academy, with matching light gauze outer garments, elegant and refined, naturally carrying scholarly grace.

“Who might these gentlemen be?” Pei Yanci looked at the several men.

Only then did Jiang Yi remember to make introductions. After introducing Pei Yanci and Fang Hongchun, he pointed to the man in white robes. “This is Song Qi’an, who is Song Suixi’s uncle by generation, though only a few years older. He was the third-place scholar in the eleventh year of Rui’an, and now serves as a lecturer and professor at Qingcheng Academy. These two are the senior and second senior brothers of the academy students who were arrested. They also took the imperial civil service examination this year and were fortunate not to have gone to Xiangqing Tavern that day.”

Pei Yanci, seeing that he was young yet had achieved third place in the imperial examinations and could abandon fame and fortune to dedicate himself to teaching at the academy, looked at him with particular interest.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Pei Yanci cupped his hands toward them. “Since the incident occurred, His Highness has been very concerned about this matter. Before I reveal His Highness’s intentions, I’d like to ask you great scholars and professors—without His Highness’s assistance, how did you originally plan to rescue them?”

Song Qi’an frowned, seeming reluctant to say much.

The other two with him glanced at him, then looked toward Fang Hongchun, whose expression was somewhat embarrassed and who also preferred not to speak.

Finally, one of them spoke up. “We planned to pool some silver with our teachers and send it to Prime Minister Cui’s residence.”

Prime Minister Cui, named Cui Ya, was the current Left Prime Minister—narrow-minded, weak, cunning, and especially greedy for money.

Regarding this man, Pei Yanci had heard another story, though he didn’t know if it was true.

He was originally a distant relative of the Boling Cui clan, so distant as to be barely related. At that time, he had come to the capital to seek assistance from the main family when he encountered Tang Xizhui, who had not yet risen to prominence, coming to deliver imperial rewards from the palace. The two secretly formed an alliance—one inside the palace, one outside—working together. Within a few years, Tang Xizhui gained the emperor’s favor, and Cui Ya rose rapidly through the ranks. One was granted a royal title, the other appointed as prime minister, making others envious.

Therefore, Cui Ya’s words carried considerable weight with Tang Xizhui.

Combined with his extreme greed, if they approached him for intercession, he would most likely release the prisoners.

“How much have you gentlemen prepared? Can you ransom all of them?” Pei Yanci asked.

“Not very much,” the Qingcheng Academy disciple who had spoken earlier lowered his gaze. “About five thousand taels.”

A duke or marquis’s daily expenses for half a year were roughly over a thousand taels. This amount was considerable money for self-proclaimed noble literati.

But it wasn’t enough to move Cui Ya.

Perhaps their students could be ransomed, but the remaining dozens of arrested people would have to fend for themselves.

“So you don’t plan to care about those students from humble backgrounds?”

Fang Hongchun had the highest qualifications and seniority here, and was a teacher beloved by scholars throughout the realm. Being questioned this way made him as uncomfortable as if he were being asked to commit murder and arson. In embarrassment and anger, he said, “These young men—who told them to be so ignorant, discussing state affairs recklessly? They should consider that even officials can lose their heads for saying such things, let alone them.”

Song Qi’an, having experienced less of the world, lowered his head in shame and cupped his hands. “This is truly a desperate measure. Please don’t be angry, Brother Yanci. We have failed them.”

Pei Yanci sighed. After a long moment, he said, “If that’s the case, His Highness is willing to contribute some funds to secretly help you ransom everyone.”

“His Highness is only providing money, no other solution?” one of the senior brothers said. “He is the Crown Prince, after all…”

His words faded under the gazes of the others.

Everyone in the court knew that this Crown Prince’s situation was also very difficult.

Just like them at this moment, they were all people being toyed with by the vicious dogs of the Elu Bureau.

“This old man thanks His Highness for his kindness first,” Fang Hongchun said with great joy, standing up and bowing.

“Don’t be hasty with your thanks. If this succeeds, His Highness has one condition,” he said.

Song Qi’an picked up the conversation. “We are merely a group of weak scholars, not even holding court positions, powerless as bound chickens. If His Highness needs us to oppose the Elu Bureau, I’m afraid we’ll disappoint him.”

The Great Yu court’s civil officials were suppressed by the Elu Bureau to an extremely weak state. Apart from the powerful noble clans that could contend with them, only some military generals still dared to speak out, because the northwest faced occasional harassment from Great Xi, the emperor valued military officers, and the Elu Bureau didn’t dare to be too blatant.

This was also why Gu Jiuqing had been noncommittal about Pei Yanci’s earlier suggestion.

For powerless, politically insignificant scattered literati, he had no need to seek their support.

Seeing their eagerness to distance themselves, Pei Yanci smiled slightly. “How do you know your power is so small?”

Song Qi’an was startled and looked up at him, only then noticing that the person before him was between youth and young adulthood, not much different in age from his nephew. He was tall and slender, refined and handsome. At this moment, with his smile, his deep black eyes rippled with cunning brightness, tinged with a barely perceptible dangerous calculation.

He habitually wrinkled his nose, but couldn’t detect anything suspicious.

Yet his heart beat rapidly because of this smile, as if sensing approaching danger, though reason kept his eyes fixed on Pei Yanci’s face.

“What is His Highness’s condition?” Fang Hongchun pressed.

Song Qi’an blinked, finally coming back to his senses, and quickly turned his gaze away, though his ears remained attentively listening to Pei Yanci’s answer.

“After the imperial examination students are ransomed, His Highness hopes that Master Fang and Master Song will use their own influence and that of the academy to speak favorably for His Highness in court,” Pei Yanci said casually, as if this were merely a trivial matter.

But the three from the academy and Fang Hongchun couldn’t help but darken their expressions.

Students who studied hard for over ten years naturally formed close friendships with their fellow students during that time. Combined with the powerful noble clans’ dominance and infighting in the Great Yu court, there was little room left for ordinary people without connections. Therefore, since the imperial examination system was established decades ago, a phenomenon had gradually formed in court where fellow students from the same famous teacher or academy would band together for mutual support—though with little influence, they formed their own faction.

Pei Yanci was targeting exactly this point.

Over the years, there were naturally many civil officials from great scholars and famous academies. If they spoke up, combined with Gu Jiuqing’s benevolent image, those in court would begin to favor him.

But he had spoken too directly, immediately arousing their resentment.

Literati had their own integrity. They were grateful that the Crown Prince was contributing money to rescue people this time, but to think he could coerce them into becoming puppets at the beck and call of nobles based solely on this—that was absolutely impossible.

He didn’t know about others, but Song Qi’an had given up his third-place achievement because he disliked the darkness of officialdom, choosing to remain peacefully at Qingcheng Academy as a teacher, precisely because he didn’t want to end up in such a situation.

“The Crown Prince currently lies low like a hidden dragon. Consider this—the more difficult the times, the more clearly one sees people’s hearts, and the more one cherishes those around them. When he soars to the heavens one day, that will be when you all achieve wealth and honor, becoming marquises and prime ministers,” Pei Yanci continued his earnest persuasion.

Seeing the atmosphere growing increasingly tense, Jiang Yi finally stood up to mediate, “It’s getting late today. Yanci, you still have so many matters at your residence. Go back first. Let Master Fang and Master Song consider this matter. I’ll reply for them in a couple of days. How about that?”

“This might be your closest chance to becoming marquises and prime ministers. You should think it over carefully,” Pei Yanci said. “I’ll take my leave first.”

Calling to Wushu, who was having tea next door, they left the residence and got back into the carriage.

“What were you discussing? Are you really going to send me to the academy?” Wushu asked curiously. “Can servants also study?”

“If you serve as a book boy for young masters, you can study alongside them.”

“Really?”

“Do you see any young masters of appropriate age in the residence?”

His excitement immediately deflated, and Wushu pouted. “You just like to tease me.”

“What’s so good about being a book boy? Those people—hardly any of them study properly,” Pei Yanci shook his head. “They’re not as good as those from poor backgrounds.”

The carriage returned to the Crown Prince’s Mansion. Just as they got off, he noticed a flash of clothing at the corner of the alley entrance.

Pei Yanci told Wushu to go in first while he walked along the alley to the corner.

This time, he saw the person.

A man in black clothing who looked utterly ordinary.

“Dugong Daren wishes to see you.”