TSLSILMH Ch 44

Chapter 44

“Brother Zuo, please.”

With a smiling face, Jiang Hong ushered Zuo Ran into a quiet reception room. In truth, since taking residence here, this was the first time the chamber had hosted a guest.

Even the Prefect, Wan Linming, who had visited before, had not been granted such courtesy, but only met Jiang Hong in the side hall instead.

Since the household servants knew in advance a guest of status was to be received, this chamber had already been swept spotless, with flowers and incense prepared, and hot water set for tea.

Zuo Ran entered with a pleased smile, leaning on Wang Jing’s arm as he crossed the threshold. His aged eyes squinted as he inspected the refined arrangements within, nodding in praise: “Brother Jiang, your hall is splendidly elegant indeed!”

Once seated, he shifted his white brows upward as he examined the young man standing respectfully behind Jiang. His gaze lingered on Xie Shu, shining faint with admiration. “I heard just days ago you accepted a fine new student. Today I see it is true—he is extraordinary.”

Jiang Hong only smiled with modesty, declining to elaborate.

Since the host and guest were seated, tea could not be absent.

At this time, tea brewing was all the fashion, not only with loose leaf but also compressed “cake tea” and powdered “fine tea.” The latter required careful preparation—washing, steaming, pressing, grinding—before the admired art of diancha (tea whisking) could be performed. Few households kept such supplies, for it was costly and refined.

But here, Jiang’s guest chamber was fully stocked, even with a small stove keeping water hot nearby. Truly rare indeed.

Thus Zuo Ran proposed with a smile: “Since we are housed amidst such elegance, why not enjoy the art of tea? Perhaps our two young men may display their skill for us. Even if clumsy, it shall adorn this moment with refinement.”

At once, Wang Jing lifted his eyes, studying Xie Shu seated opposite him. Never before had he thought the day would come when this man, once merely a merchant’s dependent, would sit as his equal beside a teacher of renown.

To be truthful, Wang’s impression of Xie Shu had been faint, nearly nonexistent. Fresh only in memory was that peach blossom poem of months before, the fleeting brilliance that raised some fame. Soon he had faded again, and the gossip of his household ties had drawn only a sneer.

But now—in silence—he had seized ahead of all others, already pupil to Jiang Hong himself.

Wang’s feelings grew knotted—curiosity, rivalry, and something darker. His pride longed for a measure against him.

Hearing Zuo Ran’s request, Jiang Hong did not immediately reply. Instead, he regarded Xie Shu, to see his wish.

Yet Xie Shu faltered. This elegant art of preparing powdered tea had long vanished in modern days. He had lived here but months, and rarely sought gatherings outside. How would he know?

Would admitting ignorance disgrace his teacher?

Jiang Hong, observant, quickly perceived. It was odd—though refined, surely he had not learned. But Jiang was unconcerned. He had not taken him on to pour tea! His strengths sufficed—lessons in flaw were natural.

He said plainly: “This disciple of mine is raised in comfort, unskilled at such refinements. Better your disciple display his talent instead.”

A flicker of regret passed in Zuo Ran’s eyes. He had thought the youth of fine bearing. Gifted perhaps, but—without elegance, where was true scholarly grace? Was this truly Jiang’s chosen student?

His face cooled slightly, as he nodded.

Wang Jing’s gaze finally withdrew. With polite smile, he said: “Then I shall try my humble hand.”

And so he began to prepare tea. With deft motions, he ground the compressed cake to fine powder, mixed the paste with pure water, then whisked it. His movements flowed, elegant indeed, producing a foamed surface—though not yet the perfect sheen of frothy white that indicated mastery.

Still, both teachers praised him gently.

Afterward, the elders sat together exchanging news, their talk weaving past affairs and years of separation. Inevitably Zuo Ran raised the matter of the Imperial Academy.

Here lay his purpose. The Academy recruited in two ways. The common were jian sheng (students given entry as grace, mostly nobles and high families). The rare were gong sheng (recommendations from local prefectures of notable talents, one or two each year).

For Wang Jing, soon to attempt the Metropolitan Exams, entrance early into the capital was wise. Yet the journey long, the lodging fraught. If admitted to the Academy as gong sheng, he would travel with escort, and live with safety.

Zuo Ran, growing aged, had not thought of it until Wang pressed him. It was vital.

For indeed, Wang Jing had already triumphed as provincial champion (jieyuan). Entry into the next stage was almost given. But any misstep before might ruin it.

So, he wondered—what was Jiang’s view?

Jiang Hong heard, and his brow tightened slightly. He knew all too well the Academy still favored the great clans, despite his own earlier reforms. Since resigning, its state had likely worsened.

Yet he could not openly dismiss. Politeness restrained him, as his ties to Zuo Ran lacked the frankness of those with Xuan Zhen the abbot.

So he only asked Wang Jing: “Is this your true wish?”

Wang Jing bowed low, answering with care: “Yes, sir. The Imperial Academy has ever raised men of the realm. To follow such footsteps—how could I not aspire? With your guidance, I seek only entry.”

Jiang Hong sighed within, yet warned: “If you go—remember. Study. Do not let yourself be drawn into factional strife! The Academy is no pure haven.”

Wang Jing gave assent. Yet at that, his hand, whisking the tea, had trembled.

Xie Shu alone saw—the faint shake, abrupt among otherwise elegant motions.

—

After guests departed, Jiang excused Xie Shu from study for the day, perceiving his distraction.

Returning home early, Xie Shu hastened to Tingyu Court.

There, his Young Lord came to greet him, lashes trembling, eyes shadowed with worry, gaze seeking his face in silence.

Seeing such caution, Xie Shu lowered his eyes, then caught his hand and drew him near with a smile. “Young Lord. I had Xi Mo send you word. Why then such a look?”

But Yu Chuxi startled as he answered, brows furrowing: “Xi Mo? He hasn’t returned at all…”

Footnotes

1. 團茶 / 末茶 (Cake Tea / Powdered Tea) – Historical forms of prepared tea, refined especially in Tang and Song. Whisked into frothy foam (diancha) and judged by whiteness of surface. 
2. 國子監 (Imperial Academy/Guozijian) – Highest educational institution in imperial China. Jian sheng (grace students) were nobles by birth; gong sheng (tribute students) were selected talents from provinces. 
3. 解元 (Jieyuan) – Title given to the first-place finisher of the provincial examination, an immense honor. 
4. 清議 (Qingyi) – “Pure Discussions”: national gatherings of scholars critiquing policies. Influenced politics through consensus and reputation.