ITIEQ C9

Chapter 9 – Academic Daji

(Dayong is the great yong)

At the first quarter of the Wei hour (around 2:15 pm), the golden-armored guards wielding ceremonial blades marched in formation to take their seats, while the palace maids and eunuchs responsible for serving food and cleaning the hall walked in single file.

Before long, jeweled chimes resounded, parasols blocked the sun, and the Emperor’s imperial carriage arrived. Nearly a hundred newly appointed jinshi (advanced scholars who had passed the top imperial exam) and both inner and outer attendants prostrated themselves in unison, crying out “Long Live!” to greet his majesty.

The Grand Eunuch Jinchang unfolded the yellow edict of silk and declared in a loud voice:

“Responding to Heaven, in accord with the proper season, and bearing the mandate of illustrious destiny—now that the Three First-Rank Scholars[¹] of the current year have ascended, Heaven has favored their sincerity. Thus, we especially appoint the Number-One Scholar, Yue Jie, as Congwu Pin Shang (Upper Fifth Rank) Literary Official (Zhuozuo Lang); the Second-Rank Scholar, Xin Ye, as Congliu Pin Shang (Upper Sixth Rank) Literary Assistant (Zhuozuo Zuo Lang), both for the Secretariat of Literature. As for the Third-Rank Scholar (Flowered Rank), Shen Qinghe, we confer upon him Congwu Pin Shang (Upper Fifth Rank) Remonstrance Official (Geishilang), to remain in Our presence and rectify any errors in Our edicts. By imperial decree, thus ordered.”

The three men were slightly taken aback, yet they bowed and thanked His Majesty for the gracious favor.

All present were astonished.

By tradition, the appointments of the First, Second, and Third Ranked Scholars always descended by degree: the Number-One Scholar usually held the highest single office, followed by one grade lower for the Second, and another step lower for the Third. Never before had a Tanhua (Third-ranked scholar) been placed on equal footing with the Zhuangyuan (First-ranked scholar)!

Curious gazes turned toward Shen Qinghe. The scholars of humble background assumed this must be because he had powerful connections, that only thus could he “overtake” the noble Yue family of Yanlin.

The aristocratic faction, on the contrary, scoffed. Though Geishilang was technically of the Fifth Upper Rank, it was in truth a courtier’s title with little real power—merely a palace attendant charged with helping draft decrees and running errands at the emperor’s side. How could such a “nominal” role compare with the prestigious Zhuozuo Lang? Furthermore, Shen Qinghe’s unrestrained, carefree character was infamous in the capital. Even if he had luckily gained the Tanhua, how long could he hide his fox’s tail? Hadn’t he previously been personally dismissed by the Emperor himself? It seemed inevitable this man would repeat history.

And his mother? Merely a humble singing courtesan turned merchant’s daughter[²]. At best, that placed one and a half feet inside their circle. A third-rate character! Surely His Majesty thought so as well—why else assign him a position so close, just to keep him under watch?

Once they reasoned this out, their gazes toward Shen Qinghe brimmed with ridicule.

From a distance, Yue Jie looked toward Shen Qinghe but said nothing.

A Geishilang—a close minister to the Son of Heaven.

“Sounds like a leisurely sinecure…” Shen Qinghe thought.

Another iron-rice-bowl salary was no bad thing at all.

Completely ignoring the sour mutterings and conspiracies in everyone’s mind, Shen Qinghe’s system chimed in once again with its cold, mechanical voice:

【“From a rustic farmer at dawn, into the Emperor’s hall by dusk. Use your literary and martial skills as coin with the ruler of men. Congratulations, Host, on attaining the rank of Congwu Pin Geishilang. You have completed the second-stage Main Quest: ‘Testing the Waters.’ Reward: 1300 points.”】

【“Activating the third-stage Main Quest: ‘Emerging into Prominence.’ Host must make further progress on the path of officialdom. ‘Purity of heart is the root of governance, uprightness the strategy of the self. Straight timber becomes the beam of the hall; tempered steel will never bend into a hook.’”】

“System, here’s your salary. That should buy you another 130 days of life,” Shen Qinghe said, handing the students over to the system’s supervision. That freed up more of his own time.

The system was touched to death—its Host had given up all those points that could have bought snacks, just to keep it alive!

Shen Qinghe pondered. This time, unlike in the past, the mission keywords contained no clear forward goal.

Could it mean that to complete the mission, he need not merely climb in official rank?

After the edict was received, Emperor Zhaohuan finally spoke: “My beloved ministers, rise. This Golden Scale Feast[³] is a joyous occasion. High and low alike, celebrate without constraint!”

It was the highest favor for the Emperor himself to sit and dine with them.

Of the First Class Scholars, only the three of them—including Yue Jie—sat closest to the Emperor. Below them, arrayed in order, sat the Second and Third Class Scholars, stretching out seat after seat.

The Emperor bestowed wine; the new scholars bowed three times and drank three times to thank for imperial grace.

A palace maid, gazing at the honored table, giggled foolishly: “Never thought this year’s First-Rank scholars would all be so young and handsome, shining brightly seated together. When I served wine, I didn’t dare even lift my head, for fear of being dazzled.”

“Especially that Tanhua Lang! Which family’s young master is he? To think there’s such a figure in the capital!”

“Nay, Young Lord Yue is more like an immortal descended—so refined, so noble.”

Such idle chatter in front of the imperial presence! The supervising court attendants immediately stepped forward to scold them. Red-faced, the servant girls scattered like startled birds.

Yue Jie drank three cups only, then touched no more.

Shen Qinghe, used to business banquets in his former life, considered his wine tolerance decent. Dayong’s bamboo-liquor was smooth and light, with a faint herbal fragrance, and after three cups he still felt unsatisfied. Even Xin Ye the Second Chairman found palace wine excellent in taste, though with the august Emperor so close he dared not drink more.

Shen Qinghe, however, felt no such shyness. Seeing the tall but thin-skinned Xin Ye hesitate, he initiated a round himself. Xin Ye, blushing, agreed softly, and soon the two were clinking cups recklessly. Before long, the wine pot was nearly drained.

Yue Jie, watching them indulge, tugged at his sleeve and shifted farther away.

Shen Qinghe couldn’t resist teasing him: “Lord Yue, Lord Yue? Why not drink a little?”

Yue Jie gave a light snort: “Three is enough—beyond that, one loses sense.”

So sarcastic! Yet Shen Qinghe wasn’t angered. His cheeks already flushed, his eyes slightly glazed, he tilted forward with cup in hand, half-collapsed onto the table, and looked toward the Emperor atop the seat of honor.

Xin Ye jumped, tugging at his belt:

“Shen Tanhua, wake up—that’s the Son of Heaven!”

But Shen Qinghe ignored him, still leaning drunkenly forward. Emperor Zhaohuan lowered his gaze upon him.

“Your Majesty, the Zhuangyuan won’t drink with me.” The young Tanhua, dragged a little aside yet still leaning, crooked his cap with one hand and shakily pointed toward Yue Jie with the other. “You… you must punish him.”

“Shen—Qing—He!”

Flames of fury burned in Yue Jie’s eyes as he ground out the name through clenched teeth.

The Emperor’s gaze swept over the pair.

“Wine must not be drunk to excess. What the Zhuangyuan says is correct. I shall not punish him.”

At once Shen Qinghe wilted in disappointment. He stared forlornly at his small cup of liquor, then suddenly brightened as though thinking of something. Lifting it with both hands, he said: “Then… could Your Majesty drink with me?”

The Emperor gazed down at him, unmoving, expression unreadable.

“…Oh.”

The flushed, beautiful young scholar waited, hopes fading. At last, heavy-hearted, he tugged at his robes to slump back into place.

A solemn wave of sandalwood incense rolled over, eclipsing the bamboo’s fragrance for an instant, suspended in breath.

A clear, crisp chime—

The Emperor’s golden goblet touched his delicate little jade cup.

Leaning down, black hair sliding from his immaculate black robe to brush his elbow, the young sovereign regarded him with weary amusement.

One long draught drained the Emperor’s golden goblet. The scholar’s face instantly brightened as though lit from within, delightedly sipping half his own cup—until his wrist was firmly seized mid-motion.

Startled, Shen Qinghe looked up. The Emperor spoke low to his attendant, who immediately removed the half-full jade beaker and whisked away the wine jug.

“??!” Shen Qinghe’s eyes flew wide, staring up at Emperor Zhaohuan in disbelief. Clear eyes, brimming with grievance.

The Emperor set down his goblet. “Excess harms the body.”

Tears nearly shimmered in Shen Qinghe’s eyes. Incorrigible little drunkard.

In place of the removed jug, servants arranged a steaming dish of cooked cream custard.

The Emperor said: “At your age, you should prefer this.”

Double-skinned milk; of course he adored it. He adored it to no end.

This rare delicacy instantly banished his sulk. Gleefully, spoon by spoon, he devoured it.

“Fawning sycophant,” Yue Jie seethed through deep breaths.

Meanwhile, the system, puzzled, checked Shen Qinghe’s body data—his intoxication levels weren’t anywhere near that severe.

“…May I ask: what exactly was that little performance?”

“Haha.”

With mock solemnity Shen Qinghe wiped his lips and returned to his seat.

“At first, I actually thought Emperor Zhaohuan was taken with me—after all, in Dayong, fondness between men is fairly common.”

The system with a jolt nearly crashed: “He—he—he—He fancies you?! Since when?!”

“Calm down. You’re a civil-exam system, no social experience. Still, in my time, there was such a trend—‘Academic Daji’ was popular, even male versions of ‘Daji.’ What’s that noise—are you sparking out? Liking me isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I thought maybe I wouldn’t need to scramble anymore—”

The system almost collapsed entirely, but forced composure. Though unusual, similar precedent existed, especially among “emotional-narrative” systems in other cases. Surely he could adapt. After all, with three past hosts, he was now an experienced system!

“N-Now what happened?” it pressed.

“Nothing happened. Didn’t you see my flirtatious glances went unseen? Maybe I’m just rusty—will need to practice more.”

…Something didn’t feel right.

“But to be honest,” Shen Qinghe mused, “what’s scarier is unsolicited concern from the supreme leader. Does he want to ‘kill me with favor’? I don’t think I’ve offended him. He doesn’t even exist in my social circle. He doesn’t need my ability, nor emotional support. Do you get what I mean, system?”

“…I don’t, but it does sound ominous,” the system admitted.

“Yes. Frightening indeed,” said Shen Qinghe firmly.

—

Zhashi Alley remained desolate as ever. Passing once again the gates of Prince Ying’s mansion, its red doors in disrepair, seals torn. Once the sole feudal prince allowed to stay in the capital as regent, famed once upon for golden screens and lavish halls—now desolate, retinue gone. In a few years, new tenants would arrive, and not even the mansion’s name remembered.

His four students were long since seated properly at their desks.

Shen Qinghe surveyed their reading progress with satisfaction.

“You’ve skimmed through the Hundred Schools of Thought, and at least gained some structure from it.”

“Today, I’ll tell you this: among all those schools, only one is absolutely correct—and perfect. After a few days of meditation, who among you can answer which it is?”

At the lectern, Shen Qinghe smiled.

FOOTNOTES:

[¹] Three First-Rank Scholars refers to the traditional titles given to the top three achievers in the Imperial Examination: the Zhuangyuan (Champion, 1st place), the Bangyan (Eye of the List, 2nd place), and the Tanhua (Flowered Splendor, 3rd place).

[²] “商女” (shang nü) literally means “merchant’s daughter” or “singing girl” from plebeian backgrounds; here it connotes low-class origins.

[³] Golden Scale Feast (Jinlin Yan) — a traditional banquet held by the Emperor in honor of new scholars who “leapt through the dragon gate” like carp turning into golden-scaled dragons.