Chapter Ten: The Prestigious Family

The next morning, the brothers arrived early in the county town. Zhang Shi went to prepare chicken and duck, wine and dishes as gifts, then proceeded to visit the home of the county officer Peng. Meanwhile, Zhang Yue intended to first visit the bookstore in front of the Academy to find some “reference books,” then meet up with Zhang Shi.

Zhang Yue arrived first at the Academy. The Academy was situated north of the county office, at the foot of Huanghua Mountain. Pucheng, being a major county for the imperial examinations, was steeped in scholarly tradition, and its Academy was renowned. In the era of the Grand View, the Academy once had over a thousand students, earning the praise of Emperor Huizong of Song.

In front of the county Academy, called the Huanghua Hall, was Chessboard Street, bustling with restaurants, teahouses, and shops selling ink and paper—no less lively than the Cross Street before the county office.

Though scholars of the Song dynasty did not enjoy the privileges of exemption from taxes and labor, nor the grain stipends as in the Ming, still, those who could afford to read were rarely poor. For instance, though Ouyang Xiu and Fan Zhongyan were born to modest means, the stories of their youthful studies were much admired by fellow scholars.

Yet their backgrounds were not so low: Ouyang Xiu’s father served as an official in Mianzhou, and Fan Zhongyan’s father was a secretary in the military administration of Wuning. In the Song dynasty, “humble origins” referred more to collateral branches of great clans whose families lacked prominent officials for a time. It was only in the Ming and Qing that commoners could truly rise through study.

Zhang Yue gazed enviously at the scholars on the street, dressed in blue cloth robes, their attendants in tow, discussing lofty matters and pointing out the affairs of the state, their brows alight with confidence.

His family had once been of the middle class; but after his second brother’s troubles, they had fallen into poverty. For the lower class in Song times, chances for advancement were nearly nil, whether in civil or military pursuits. His second brother had such talent for study, yet in recent years the family had spent nearly a hundred and eighty strings of cash. Now, the only example of “counterattack” Zhang Yue could think of was something like the heroes of Water Margin—becoming outlaws and waiting for amnesty.

But that was even less reliable.

Zhang Yue, after some thought, walked to the bookstore. It sat at the corner of Chessboard Street, merely a storefront. The counter formed a square along the street, behind which sat an elderly man, smiling kindly, his head wrapped in a cloth kerchief. Bookshelves behind him were filled with volumes.

“We have all the classics: histories, philosophy, literature. Which book does the young gentleman seek? You seem unfamiliar, young sir!” the old man greeted him warmly, his eyes probing.

Zhang Yue sighed inwardly; he truly was not fond of reading, never having visited a bookstore before.

No matter, he was not afraid of embarrassment.

He asked, “May I ask, shopkeeper, which books are required for the jinshi examination?”

The old man chuckled, “So the young gentleman aspires to the jinshi degree—what lofty ambition! As the saying goes, ‘Thirty is old for the classics, fifty is young for the jinshi.’ But the jinshi exam is not easy—a single word: difficult.”

I like it, so what?

Zhang Yue bowed, “You are quite right, elder.”

Seeing Zhang Yue’s manner, the old man replied with authority, “Without perfect confidence, it’s best to start with the classics. Ah, the Three Rites is a good path. Here is the Zhou Rites and the Book of Rites; you may buy one to study first.”

Zhang Yue memorized the advice, took the Zhou Rites from him, and scanned a few pages quickly.

Under the old man’s intense gaze, he could not sit and read all afternoon as he once did in a previous life.

He asked, “May I ask, shopkeeper, how much does it cost?”

“Two strings of cash and five hundred coins!”

Zhang Yue drew a sharp breath; he remembered that in Ming times, a book of about six hundred thousand characters cost roughly two taels of silver, about two months’ wages for an ordinary person.

Although Song had woodblock printing, books were even more expensive than in Ming.

He recalled that Song-printed books were treasures in the world of collectors, highly sought after even in Ming times. For instance, the famous Song typeface was not invented in Song but in Ming. It was a square font made for ease of carving, known as the “skin and frame style”—a print font.

But Song artisans carved books in regular script, most beautiful. Jian editions, from Jianyang, were renowned. Perhaps the abundance of scholars in Jianzhou was due to the relative cheapness of books there, yet even so, this Mencius of sixty thousand characters cost over two strings of cash.

This Zhou Rites was a Jian edition, written in Liu style, a pocket-sized book.

Returning to the topic, it seemed that both Song and Ming preferred small, portable exam books—not only to save costs, but surely for convenience, not for cheating.

“Hmm, not too expensive.”

Zhang Yue switched to the Book of Rites, read a few pages, and asked, “How much for this one?”

The old man smiled, “Three strings of cash.”

Zhang Yue calculated: just for the Two Rites, over five strings would be needed. For a commoner in Song, daily earnings were seventy-five to a hundred coins, monthly income two to three strings.

He could not afford even half a book.

The expense was like a parent buying a computer for a child at six or seven thousand yuan.

Zhang Yue put the book down. “If I buy both together, could you offer a discount?”

The old man brightened, “Well, seeing you have such affinity, let’s say eight strings for both!”

Zhang Yue nodded, “Not expensive, not expensive, but I don’t have enough cash on hand. I’ll come tomorrow—please hold them for me!”

The old man’s smile faded, “No problem.”

Having left the bookstore, Zhang Yue abandoned the idea of buying books and went to look for Zhang Shi at the restaurant.

Zhang Shi was ready, having packed two large food boxes, carried by a pole across his shoulders, filled with lamb, wine, and pastries—the finest in Pucheng.

Zhang Yue helped carry a sack.

Such gift-giving struck Zhang Yue as somewhat absurd.

County Officer Peng had served in Pucheng for years, prepared to spend his old age here, and had built a grand residence near the county office.

They knocked and were received by a military attendant.

He informed them that County Officer Peng was entertaining guests and asked them to wait in the gatehouse.

After a while, an official appeared and said, “Today the master has distinguished guests; please come with me to the hall.”

Zhang Shi was startled, “Is this necessary?”

The official laughed, “Rest assured, you are only accompanying the guests. This distinguished guest knows your second brother. Don’t worry, just speak freely. Leave the gifts aside; they’ll be presented to the master later.”

Seeing his gifts set aside and not valued, Zhang Shi felt awkward but had no choice but to comply.

The brothers followed the official through several corridors to a hall.

There, a man in his thirties, an elder, and Officer Peng were conversing.

The brothers saluted Officer Peng, who smiled, “This is Wu Dalangjun; do you know him?”

Zhang Shi was surprised, “Wu Dalangjun! Forgive my disrespect.”

The man in his thirties rose slightly and smiled, “Zhang Dalang, it has been a while.”

After exchanging greetings, Zhang Shi beamed at Zhang Yue, “This is the eldest son of the Wu family from Xiuli. You should pay your respects; he and your second brother are the closest of friends.”

As Zhang Yue bowed, he searched his memory for this person’s identity.

At last, he recalled: Pucheng had four great clans—Zhang, Wu, Yang, and Huang—no less illustrious than the four families of Jinling in Dream of the Red Chamber.

The Zhangs ranked first. The first prime minister from Fujian after Song, Zhang Dexiang, hailed from the Pucheng Zhangs. Since the start of the imperial exams under Emperor Taizong, fifteen members of the Zhangs had made the gold list—a true aristocratic family.

Yet, were Zhang Yue and his brother part of the Pucheng Zhangs?

They were, but as distant kin.

How distant? When Prime Minister Zhang Dexiang returned home, he built the Dayu Hall for clan schooling, inviting renowned teachers to instruct the clan’s children for free.

But neither Zhang Xu nor Zhang Yue had access to the clan school, showing just how remote their branch was. After all, the Zhangs of Pucheng numbered not tens of thousands, but several thousand; claiming kinship was not easy.

There was also the Yang clan.

Yang Yi, a famed minister, was from Pucheng Yangs and was Zhang Dexiang’s father-in-law and mentor.

Though the Yangs’ influence in court had faded, they remained a great family in Pucheng. Zhang Shi and Zhang Yue’s mother was from the Yangs, and their aunt married a Zhang; their uncle Zhang Yu was a jinshi, now serving as registrar in Wu County, Suzhou.

But their father’s exam career had been unsuccessful, and the Yangs looked down on them. After their mother died, relations ceased. When the second brother became the top scholar in the county Academy, and won Chen Xiang’s favor, the Yangs tried to reconnect, but Zhang Shi and his brother rejected them, even humiliating the emissaries.

Had it not been for this, when they’d been cornered by Official Zhao, they would have turned to the Yangs for help.

There was also the Huang clan: the father and son, Huang Guan and Huang Xiaoxian, both renowned ministers and literati.

The four great clans intermarried; the Wu family of Xiuli was one of them.

The Wu family had five jinshis in one generation. Wu Daiwen, the father, served as vice minister of the Rituals. His four sons were all jinshi. His eldest, Wu Yu, was deputy prime minister—not a former, but the current officeholder.

His fourth son, Wu Chong, was a jinshi of the fifth year of Jingyou, now serving as judge in the Livestock Bureau.

Before them stood Wu Anshi, Wu Chong’s eldest son. He had not followed his father to the capital but remained in the county Academy, studying alongside Zhang Yue’s second brother. When Zhang Yue’s father was alive, Wu Anshi had visited during festivals, bringing gifts.

Zhang Yue couldn’t help admiring his second brother’s privileges as a scholar—able to befriend the genuine sons of high officials.

He paid his respects.

Everyone took their seats; Zhang Shi and Zhang Yue sat at the lower end. Two guards served them tea and fruit.

Wu Anshi remarked, “Second brother is elegant and handsome—a fine gentleman. Now that I see the third brother, he truly resembles him; indeed, you are blood brothers.”

Zhang Yue felt a pleasant warmth. Talented people like himself enjoyed praise for qualities beyond their intellect.

The elder said nothing, and Wu Anshi did not introduce him. Zhang Yue thought perhaps he and his brother were not worthy to know this guest.

County Officer Peng laughed, “Zhang Sanlang is not only gifted; he and my nephew are classmates and friends.”

Zhang Shi hurriedly replied, “This time, we owe everything to County Officer Peng’s help for Sanlang; our whole family is deeply grateful.”

Officer Peng smiled, “It was a small matter, not worth mentioning.”

Just then, someone entered and whispered to Officer Peng.

He rose, “A bit of official business—I’ll return shortly.”

Everyone stood to see him off, save the elder, who merely nodded.

Zhang Yue and Zhang Shi did not know the elder’s identity; his arrogance surprised them.

Now only four remained. Wu Anshi smiled, “I was just speaking with the steward about your brother. We were classmates for three years, as close as blood brothers. I recall when he first entered the Academy, though the youngest, his essays and knowledge of the classics won everyone’s admiration!”

Zhang Shi replied with a smile, “Dalangjun praises him too highly. My younger brother often says he received much care from you at the Academy; our whole family is grateful.”

Wu Anshi laughed, “There’s no need to speak of care—it’s only what classmates do for each other. Zhang Sanlang, though this is our first meeting, I see in you a mind full of talent; surely your gifts match those of your brother!”

After Wu Anshi spoke, the elder beside him turned his gaze to Zhang Yue, studying him.