Chapter 15

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“…after the flying horses landed, they turned into white jade horses, and Commander Pang vanished without a trace. He must have gone to pay his respects to some immortal. There was a half-immortal at the gate to welcome the disciples, he introduced himself as Yang-shixiong, Yang Anli, Princess Xincheng’s son, a shixiong from the last Grand Selection class.

“Yang-shixiong is very polite. He looks a little like san-ge, though naturally he can’t compare with my san-ge.”

After night fell in Jinping, in the south study of Prince Zhuang Manor, Zhou Ying held a white jade board the same as the white jade proximals he had sent to the Marquis Manor—it turned out that these white jade proximals weren’t a pair; they were a set of three.

At this point, Xi Ping must have gotten settled in at the Latent Cultivation Temple and had begun to write his grandmother a lengthy letter; line after line of writing appeared quickly on the white jade board.

Next to him, Wang Jian was laying out the weiqi record as though nothing were the matter, pretending that there was nothing worth being shocked about in his lord spying on a letter Viscount Xi was writing home to the old lady.

Since her early years, Old Madam Xi had been a well-bred lady who didn’t leave the house. She had never pursued any studies. Everything Xi Ping wrote was in colloquial speech and included illustrations along with the text.

For example, he wrote: “In front of the temple gates, there are blue luan and white deer running around. A blue luan is a bird less than half a chi long, with a long tail like a cape.”

Underneath was a lifelike drawing of a blue luan…though the draftsmanship was a little rough, and it looked like a duck with a fan stuck to its butt.

The corners of Prince Zhuang’s mouth turned upwards.

“None of the footmen in the temple are human, they’re scarecrows operated by spiritual stones. They’re called ‘straw children.’ They can give directions, sweep the courtyards, beat a gong to tell time, and so on. You just need to stick the right talisman onto the back of the straw children’s heads, and you can make them do tasks. When I’ve learned to make straw children, I’ll definitely make you a bunch, a pair to rub your legs, two to fan you, and we can put together a theater troupe.”

Prince Zhuang laughed. “No wonder our grandmother favors him so much. This brat can flatter the old lady better than I can.”

Wang Jian humored him: “As the saying goes, everyone has his weaknesses and strengths. On the subject of striving for favor, Your Highness truly falls short.”

On the white jade proximal, Xi Ping finished flattering and went on to discuss the food at the Latent Cultivation Temple. Generally he was very satisfied and only said regretfully: “They only provide two meals a day, breakfast and dinner. The disciples don’t get snacks.”

Having commented on the food, he went on to the residence: “The male and female disciples are separated here. In classes and daily life, they don’t run into each other. Too bad, too bad! The female disciples live one to a courtyard, while the male disciples live two to four to a courtyard because the number is so much higher. I’m living in the Qiu courtyard along with two classmates.

“One is Chang-xiong, the eldest grandson of Royal Tutor Chang, with a face as round as a piece of flatbread. He’s friendly to everyone and very talkative. Less than two ke after he moved in, he’d already passed along eight bits of news, like an ascended trumpet.”

Prince Zhuang thought, You have the face to call someone else talkative? You’re the one who needs a slap on the mouth.

Wang Jian, seeing him for once in a good mood, tactfully went to refill his cup of water. He had just lifted the pot when he saw the smile on Prince Zhuang’s face cool, so he shot a furtive glance at the white jade board.

He saw that Xi Ping had written: “The other one, Yao-xiong, is a grand scribe’s son, the Crown Princess’s younger brother by a concubine. When this brother learned that he was going to be sharing a courtyard with me, he was so scared he ran to the outhouse seven times in one night, nearly excreted himself out into a noodle. I even felt conscience-stricken. In the future, I’ll have to get friendlier with him.”

Prince Zhuang’s fingers twisted on the white jade board. “The Crown Prince’s wife’s younger brother…”

Wang Jian quickly said, “Since the Marquis of Cheng’en’s Zhang family committed an offense, the Crown Prince has been increasingly subdued. The Crown Princess’s birth isn’t high, so her family, the Yao, have been even more cautious. The Second Young Master Yao who’s been sent to the Latent Cultivation Temple now has never been heard from in Jinping. He must not have a particularly flamboyant disposition.”

Prince Zhuang said, “Oh, I know. That bastard Xi Shiyong may be obnoxious at home, but there’s no need to worry about him being bullied when he goes out… It’ll be a good thing if he manages to hold out and not cause any trouble for me.”

Wang Jian said, smiling, “Set your mind at ease, Your Highness. Among the disciples who have entered the Latent Cultivation Temple this time, there are few direct descendants of the big families. Apart from His Fourth Highness and Her Ninth Highness, there’s only one son of the Lin family. The Lin family is His Fourth Highness’s mother’s family, so presumably he wouldn’t get into a dispute with him. Her Ninth Highness is young, and her disposition is frail. I don’t think there’s any suspense about which disciple the inner sect will choose this time. His Fourth Highness conducts himself properly. With him there to keep watch, the others won’t be able to make any big waves. Anyway, his relationship with you in the mortal world has always been very good. Presumably he would look after the Viscount for you.”

“I wouldn’t call it very good. Zhou Xi has known since he was little that he would enter the immortal sect and didn’t associate with a mortal like me. He only kept from offending anyone for the sake of his mother.” Prince Zhuang smiled. “But, in fact, he truly isn’t a rash person…hm?”

The white jade tablet was nearly filled with writing. Though the chatterbox Xi Ping hadn’t yet fully expressed himself, he had to wind it up here. Having asked after the whole family’s health, he added a line in the corner: “Heaven’s Design Pavilion’s Commander Pang and I have hit it off pretty well. He even gave me a half-human half-puppet little servant. It’s a long story, I’ll tell you in more detail tomorrow.”

“Pang? Pang Wenchang?” Prince Zhuang raised his eyebrows when he read the words “hit it off”—no wonder that when they had removed Xi Ping’s name from the alternate name list, the Yongning Marquis Manor had still received a selection card. “Him?”

“This Lord Pang is noted for covering cruel intentions with a smile, being unmoved by force or persuasion, and deferring to no one. All the members of big families who have tried to curry favor with him could find no opening,” Wang Jian said. “As the Viscount has entered the Latent Cultivation Temple, when he returns in the future, it’s almost certain he’ll enter Heaven’s Design Pavilion. At this stage, if he’s hit it off with him…that isn’t a bad thing.”

Prince Zhuang continued to think it was a little strange. A lone wolf like Pang Jian didn’t sound like the type to give someone a “little servant.”

But on the other hand, the mighty assistant commander of Heaven’s Design Pavilion would have no more difficulty squeezing a handful of mortals to death than knocking over an anthill. He wouldn’t play any tricks on a young disciple…would he?

“Don’t forget to send Commander Pang a gift for the Dragon Boat Festival.”

Wang Jian agreed: “Of course.”

The little fish on the white jade proximal began to swim on its own, erasing Xi Ping’s words and drawings. The old lady began to write a response.

So Prince Zhuang put down the proximal and said to Wang Jian, “The diplomatic envoy from Chu came today.”

Wang Jian quickly sat up straight. “About the train business?”

“Yes, His Majesty has made up his mind to expand ground transport. A few Maze Stations within Great Wan’s borders won’t satisfy his appetite. He’s planning to connect to Chu’s Dongheng.” As Prince Zhuang spoke, the look in his eyes became cold once more. The illustrated white jade proximal seemed only able to dispel the frost from his brow for a moment. “Dongheng’s Xiang family are unorthodox in their practices; they’ve actually fallen in with his plans.”

Wang Jian considered it. “What about water transport?”

Steam engines had blown the skies of Jinping full of smoke and dust, and they had also blown up the purses of water transport. A single grand canal, with so many noble families latched onto it sucking blood—how could they stand to give a share to the “Cloud Soaring Flood Dragon” that ran over the ground?

“Water transport? Ah, they nearly scraped the ground with their heads before the envoy had even left, saying that railroads ‘pierce mountains and go around forests, obstruct fengshui, harm the nation’s blessings.’ They all but brought in an immortal from Xuanyin Mountain to give a verdict.” Prince Zhuang smiled. “The water transport department’s Sun Yuqing sure is quite the genius.”

Wang Jian said, shaking his head, “The Sun family’s greed is bottomless. They can’t make up their minds. Before they curried favor with the Marquis of Cheng’en, and when the Marquis of Cheng’en fell, all they wanted was to plead their innocence of the connection before the Crown Prince.”

Before he had finished speaking, he saw a cold smile appear at the corners of Prince Zhuang’s eyes.

“Do you have some instructions you wish your student to carry out, Your Highness?”

Prince Zhuang pressed a hand to his lips, turned his head away, and coughed a few times. “When the railroad was first being laid from Jinping to Yuzhou, there was an instance of corrupt officials tricking the common people out of their farmland and selling them to the court at a high price. Do you remember?”

“I remember. Later a few people were easily taken care of, but as for the land, well, the court already had it, so naturally it couldn’t be returned,” Wang Jian said. “You mean…”

“To be sure, the Cloud Soaring Flood Dragon is awe-inspiring, but the common people have lost farmland where they could settle down and make a living. How are they to live now? A pity.” Prince Zhuang sighed, as lightly as though blowing dust off fine porcelain. “Why don’t you drop a word to Lord Sun and let him know to stop thinking about bringing a complaint before the Southern Sage—not when there’s a ready-made ‘right way.’”

Wang Jian understood him. After giving an affirmative, he added, “But, Your Highness, His Majesty has always been hard-hearted. A handful of common people who have lost their land won’t necessarily stop him…”

“Why would I want to stop him? Whether he wants to expand the railways or the waterways, what connection does it have to a homebound invalid like me?” Prince Zhuang swept his sleeve wearily. “This is the Crown Prince’s business.”

“The Crown Prince? How could the Crown Prince wade into these muddy waters?”

“It’s out of his control.” Prince Zhuang toyed with his coarse pottery cup between his fingertips. His voice was almost inaudible. “After all…what does the Crown Prince have apart from his reputation for benevolence?”

At this point, he propped his head on his hand and inadvertently glanced at the white jade proximal next to him.

Old Lady Xi had already written a whole long-winded heap in enormous characters. Their old grandmother’s exhortations were nothing more than these three: “Eat well, dress warm, don’t make trouble.” There was nothing new. Prince Zhuang read it and was about to avert his gaze when he saw the old lady write: “I don’t want any scarecrows, those are like monsters, they’d be terrifying if you caught sight of them at night. It would be better if the immortal sect taught you how to make pills and elixirs. Be sure to keep His Third Highness in mind.”

Prince Zhuang stared. For a moment, his eyelids trembled slightly, as if his eyes had been burned by the old lady’s writing. After a long while, he finally turned the proximal over and waved a hand at Wang Jian.

In the Latent Cultivation Temple, Xi Ping, finished exchanging letters with his grandmother, put away the white jade proximal and forced himself to lie down and go to sleep early.

The Latent Cultivation Temple was in the Xuanyin Mountain Range’s outermost valley. Green pines and cypresses formed rolling blue-green waves. There was no buzz of machinery, no clamor of gears. There wasn’t even a striking clock in the room. The disciples' rooms only had a half-cun square hanging calendar block of blue-green jade; this was an unconventional immortal tool. Every night at midnight, the calendar block would automatically change the date, solar term, and the day’s weather.

It was too quiet in the mountains, so quiet Xi Ping couldn’t quite get to sleep in this new setting. He had wild dreams all night, once again hearing that Soul Calling Melody reverberating over and over in his ear, keening all night.

At mao hour, the calendar block on the wall suddenly threw out dazzling white light. Next, a thunderclap exploded in the small room, tremors shaking the beams.

Xi Ping was so shaken by this sudden clap of thunder that his three immortal souls left his seven mortal forms. He clambered up, felt up and down his body, made sure that he hadn’t lost any parts in the lightning strike, then finally, still unsettled, looked at the calendar block.

The date on the calendar block had long ago changed to the sixteenth day of the fourth month. Under the words “clear and fresh, clouds drifting through the sky” had appeared another line of twinkling gold writing that silently urged him: “Make yourself presentable; at mao hour and three ke, morning class at the Qiankun Tower.”

At this hour, the young master usually wouldn’t even have gone to sleep yet.

And they wanted him to make himself presentable… It would be about the same as making a corpse presentable.

Xi Ping meditated profoundly in the direction of the calendar block for a while, then threw himself straight into bed and went back to sleep.

Unexpectedly, no sooner had his face touched the pillow than a strong light once again burst from the calendar block, and a second clap of thunder fell. It seemed to strike right at Xi Ping’s head. Xi Ping’s ears were more sensitive than other people’s to start with; he was nearly deafened by this shaking. All his sleepiness vanished.

“Ah—” he yelled irritably, pounding the bed. “Come here, come here!”

After yelling, he stretched out his arms, closed his eyes, and leaned against the headboard, waiting for someone to dress him and do his hair.

But he waited for ages, and the clothes didn’t automatically wrap themselves around his body. Xi Ping opened his eyes and impatiently and found that the inside of the room was silent. There was no Haozhong, and no maids; there was only the weird little half-puppet, squatting in a corner like a mushroom, watching him.

Only then did Xi Ping remember that this was the Latent Cultivation Temple. There were no more page boys.

The little half-puppet was lacking in intelligence. It wasn’t that he couldn’t understand human speech, but he didn’t understand it very well—as Xi Ping saw it, his intellect was about on a level with his san-ge’s lousy cat.

Pang Jian had clearly been talking nonsense. Never mind delicate tasks like dressing and doing hair, you couldn’t even hope for this thing to make the bed or sweep the floor.

Xi Ping hadn’t thought yet of how to deal with him. Grumpy about having to get up, he only tossed the little thing into the study. “Move, don’t get in my way.”

Getting dressed and cleaning up was all right, but fixing his own hair nearly killed him. Before he could get it right, he heard the voice of Chang Jun, who shared the courtyard with him. “Shiyong! Are you coming? We’ll miss class! H-h-hurry up!”

Even the chatty Chang-xiong was stuttering. Xi Ping pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at it. He thought that they actually had plenty of time.

But Chang-xiong was in such a hurry he was about to burn down the door, so he had to shove his hair into its headpiece however he could, ignoring how many strands fell out; he wished he could take refuge in monastic life and shave it all off.

He’d just had time to copy down the map when his courtyard mate Chang Jun pulled him away.

“Did you bring a guide talisman?” said Chang Jun.

Xi Ping was bewildered: what would he need one for?

Before he could respond, Chang Jun quickly said, “No problem, I have a stack. If we mess up writing them, there are replacements. Let’s go find a straw child. Our first time using a talisman, I’m afraid we won’t get it right at once and have to try several times… Hey, over there!”

Xi Ping looked in the direction he was pointing. Several of their classmates were babbling as they surrounded a straw child.

“The morning class is in the Qiankun Tower. You have to write ‘Qiankun Tower’ in regular script, make it neat… Don’t get out of the lines!”

“It’s done, it’s done, hurry, hurry! Stick it on! Stick it on!”

“Don’t crowd the straw child. If you’re blocking its way, how is it going to lead you? Spread out a little.”

Chang Jun pulled Xi Ping into the crowd. “Great, they’ve already found a straw child to lead the way. Let’s follow them!”

Before he had finished speaking, the straw child with the guide talisman stuck on moved slowly—under everyone’s gazes, this scarecrow walked in quick, mincing steps like a fine lady, as if afraid of stepping on an ant. It shifted sedately west along the path.

By the time its elegant steps reached the Qiankun Tower, they would be just in time to eat a New Year’s reunion dinner.

Xi Ping: “…”

The disciples cried out and went to pieces. Only then did Xi Ping find that, apart from the map he was carrying, the others only held guide talismans.

Wonderful! They clearly couldn’t even read a map for themselves, so how could they trust a so-called “immortal tool” so much?

“Don’t rely on that.” Xi Ping quickly glanced at the map and called upon his experience of getting chased all over Jinping by the Marquis carrying a discipline rod. “Come with me.”

“May I ask what family you are from, brother?”

“Do you know the way to the Qiankun Tower, brother? Do you have an older relative who holds office at the Latent Cultivation Temple?”

“Could it be that you have some other immortal tool, brother?”

Xi Ping thought, All you have to do is follow me. None of you can find your way around, so what’s with all this useless babble?

But it was only his first day here, and the Marquis’s order not to make trouble was still sounding in his ear. He resisted the urge and allowed Chang Jun to chatter away behind him, introducing him to everyone.

All the disciples had perhaps heard of the “renowned” Viscount of Yongning. There was a weird silence; then they said, each in a different tone, “I’ve looked forward to meeting you.”

But at the moment, these lost headless flies had no other choice. If there was a butt, they would fly after it. They stuck behind Xi Ping and crowded their way to the Qiankun Tower.

The Latent Cultivation Temple had been tranquil for ten years. Now that it had brought in this bunch, surprised groups of crows scattered in all directions and angrily dropped several loads of “sky dung,” fertilizing the invalids running the slowest at the back of the line.

When they could already see the Qiankun Tower’s name plate, Chang Jun suddenly screamed, breathlessly, “Oh, oh no, the straw child is about to beat the gong!”

Everything in the Latent Cultivation Temple followed the ancient order: a chime at chen hour, a drum midway through shen hour, watches sounded at night, a thunderclap for mao hour first ke. For other important times—for example, mao hour third ke’s morning class—the straw children announced the time by beating a gong.

Sound carried well in the valley. The strike of a gong could spread throughout the area.

In the blink of an eye, Xi Ping had strode over and uncompromisingly snatched away the straw child’s hammer.

The straw child stood there and watched as a crowd of young men rushed by like a flash flood. It turned circles in confusion, picking at the edges of the gong.

When the hair-raising crowd charged into the Qiankun Tower, the immortal in charge had yet to arrive. The breath caught in Xi Ping’s throat eased at last.

He tucked away the hammer. As he looked around, he found an empty spot and sat down. Before his butt could touch the chair, the person sitting next to him stood and moved away as though avoiding a plague.

Xi Ping looked up. Oh, it was the Crown Prince’s little brother-in-law.

The little brother-in-law was named Yao Qi. His birth mother had died young, and his father’s official wife didn’t like him. Though he hadn’t been abused, he also hadn’t been well brought up. A decade and more earlier, Empress Zhang’s bloodline had run into bad luck. The formerly illustrious Marquis of Cheng’en’s Zhang family tree had fallen over and sent the monkeys fleeing. It had also scared Lord Yao out of his wits.

Though Lord Yao was only a little grand scribe, he had his sights set high. He felt that the Marquis of Cheng’en’s head rolling three chi away was lesson to be learned from. Ever since his eldest daughter had married the Crown Prince, Lord Yao would review the story of the Zhang family’s destruction every night before bed.

In the Marquis of Yongning’s words, the Crown Princess’s whole family was weird.

Yao Qi had been born into the weird Yao family. He looked as though he was trembling with fear, small and skinny as a girl not yet of age. He had already been scared half to death by being unexpectedly chosen to enter the Latent Cultivation Temple; when he had arrived and learned that he would be living in the same courtyard as the Xi family’s son, his vision had gone black.

The Crown Prince was the heir, and Prince Zhuang had been sickly since birth. Neither of them would take part in the immortal selection. Emperor Taiming had only these two grown sons remaining in the mortal world. One, though he was the genuine eldest son of the official wife, was held back by his mother; the other was the son of the accommodating Imperial Consort who fully enjoyed the emperor’s favor. Even if the two of them weren’t interested in a struggle, others still wouldn’t let them off.

The reason that the Crown Princess’s family and Imperial Consort Xi’s family hadn’t fought like oil and water was that both families were rather useless and didn’t have any fight in them…but that didn’t mean that they could live in harmony.

Yao Qi hadn’t slept half of last night. He had certainly been imagining how the human fiend Xi Ping would persecute him. He had nearly spent the night in the outhouse. He had crawled to the Qiankun Tower first thing in the morning with all his guts empty, then saw this malevolent spirit once again floating towards him. Of course his reaction was a little outsized.

Perhaps he was too empty. When he clumsily stood up, he banged into the hard wooden chair with a hollow thump. Everyone was startled. All the private chatter among the provisional disciples suddenly quieted. Several gazes fell meaningfully on Yao Qi and Xi Ping.

Yao Qi wasn’t used to being the center of attention. His face flushed at once. But Xi Ping had found his audience.

The Xi family’s pampered son smiled carelessly and said, indecently, “It’s too late, Ziming-xiong! You’ve slept a night in the same courtyard as me. Your purity is already gone.”

Hearing this kind of ferocious talk, all of the disciples rocked the room with laughter. Little Young Master Yao didn’t dare to believe that there could be such a shameless person in the world. He was dumbfounded, so ashamed he wanted to die.

“All right, all right.” Just then, a handsome young man in a brocade gown came over to break it up. He pulled Xi Ping over and said, “Ziming is young, Shiyong, stop teasing him. Come sit here next to me. It’s been some years since we’ve seen each other. We played together when we were little.”

The young man was a little over twenty, with delicate features that bore a slight resemblance to Prince Zhuang’s. This was the fourth prince Zhou Xi, issue of the Lin family’s Virtuous Consort.

Xi Ping had to show deference to His Fourth Highness, so he sat next to him. Before he could open his mouth to make small talk, he heard an equivocal voice coming from the back door: “Pretty exciting here.”

These were the childish tones of a boy whose voice hadn’t dropped yet but who insisted on drawling his words out lethargically like an elder. Perhaps to demonstrate his great age, it also held the tremor peculiar to old men. It sounded very unpleasant, like an old eunuch who had been castrated too young.

The whole Qiankun Tower went silent. Those who were laughing all hurriedly stuffed their protruding teeth back into their mouths. Zhou Xi pulled at Xi Ping.

“Don’t look,” Zhou Xi quietly warned him. “Immortal Luo doesn’t like people looking directly at him.”

Xi Ping was all at sea. He thought, Can “Immortal Luo” be an unmarried lady whom it would be indecorous to look at?

He listened to the advice and held back from raising his head. After a moment, he heard the sound of rustling beside him.

At the center of the Qiankun Tower were forty or fifty steps leading up to a platform. From the top, you could look down upon all of the disciples’ hair whorls. Xi Ping glimpsed the edge of a wide sky blue sleeve passing by him. The cuff hung down almost to the ground.

This Immortal Luo, waving the “water sleeves” that seemed to belong to an opera costume, unhurriedly mounted the platform, then roared in a high voice: “Which bastard took the straw child’s hammer? Hand it over!”

Xi Ping’s butt was firmly glued to the chair. He thought, Haha, take a guess.

As soon as he had the thought, something heavy hit him in the ribs, and the hidden gong hammer tore apart the front of his clothes and flew out, nearly smacking Xi Ping on the chin.

To avoid the hammer, Xi Ping abruptly tilted his head up, so he saw Immortal Luo on the stone steps—this Immortal Luo turned out to be a boy who looked no older than eleven or twelve, with his features drooping in displeasure, the same height as the two straw children fanning him!

No wonder his sleeves trailed almost to the ground.

Immortal Luo raised his hand to catch the hammer. Then his cold gaze fell on Xi Ping. “Kid, what’s your name?”

Next to Xi Ping, His Fourth Highness’s eye twitched slightly. His expression showed that this was a sight too awful to behold.