Chapter Twelve: Consistency

In another part of the Peng residence.

The county magistrate of Peng sat leisurely, sipping his tea. The official business he’d mentioned earlier was but an excuse; in truth, he had been sitting quietly at the side for some time.

It wasn't that he was unwilling to ingratiate himself with the old gentleman. First, he was not versed in poetry or the classics, and even if he sat together with the old gentleman and Wu Anshi, he would have nothing to say, merely a dwarf watching giants perform, rising or falling with the crowd. As the saying goes, “better to conceal one's shortcomings than to display them,” so he preferred to wait until the old gentleman and his companions had finished their conversation before making an appearance.

At that moment, someone who had been eavesdropping came to report to the magistrate.

“To think that the second son of the Zhang family could converse so effortlessly with them? That’s rather rare,” the magistrate remarked as he paced.

He was well aware that the old gentleman held himself in high esteem and rarely thought highly of scholars. Zhang Yue, being so young—his nephew had mentioned that his reading was usually cursory at best.

Had the two not both been poor students, they would never have become such close friends. Yet it was precisely because Zhang Yue was conversing so freely with the old gentleman that the magistrate now viewed him with new respect. He had just seen the water gifts sent by the Zhang family and was quite satisfied, seeing clearly that much thought had been put into them.

“It seems that both the second and third sons of the Zhang family are anything but ordinary,” the magistrate mused.

Just then, someone reported, “Sir, their conversation is nearly over.”

The magistrate nodded and walked around to the main hall.

At that moment, Wu Anshi was extending an invitation to Zhang Yue.

Zhang Yue hesitated, but his elder brother Zhang Shi had already risen and said, “We are deeply honored by your kind regard, Master Wu. For my younger brother, this is truly a blessing. However… my brother… he is truly too dull-witted to be of much use…”

“There’s no need to answer so hastily, Master Zhang,” Wu Anshi interrupted, a trace of displeasure in his expression.

At that precise moment, the magistrate entered, as if to save Zhang Shi and Zhang Yue from their predicament. Bowing, he exclaimed, “Forgive my tardiness! I regret missing such elevated discourse—please pardon me!”

Wu Anshi smiled, “Your timing is poor, sir. We have just concluded our talk.”

The magistrate laughed, “Then let us have some soup!”

Several soldiers brought in soup from both sides.

With things settled, Zhang Yue felt a sense of relief upon seeing his brother decline the offer.

With a carefree heart, he lifted his bowl and inhaled the fragrance. The pleasant scent of medicinal herbs revealed a broth simmered with licorice and other ingredients—a cooling, nourishing soup indeed.

“Excellent soup!” Zhang Yue exclaimed after a sip, smacking his lips and preparing for another when he noticed the old gentleman and Wu Anshi had merely raised their bowls for show and were now looking at him.

Wu Anshi’s gaze plainly said, “This boy is truly fearless.” The old gentleman, by contrast, seemed amused. Zhang Shi, his brother, had only taken a small sip.

Reluctantly, Zhang Yue set down his bowl.

Zhang Shi rose to take his leave, with Zhang Yue following suit.

Wu Anshi made a perfunctory attempt to keep them, and was about to order someone to escort them out, when the old gentleman suddenly spoke:

“Zhang Sanlang, reputation is but a thing external to the self. Consider Liu Bang and Han Xin—when they achieved greatness, who remembered their former obscurity? The sea of learning knows no bounds. Without a great teacher, with diligence alone one may still cross it, making a boat of paper if need be.”

“I have retired to my hometown merely to care for my health and, incidentally, to observe the talents of promising youth. The title of ‘tutor’ is but a name. What do you yourself think?”

Zhang Shi added, “Third Brother, what are your own thoughts?”

Zhang Yue had long since made up his mind, but he put on a troubled face. In truth, had it been an offer to be a companion reader rather than a servant, he would have accepted at once.

Finally, Zhang Yue bowed deeply to the old gentleman and replied, “Thank you for your golden words, sir. As for myself, I believe there is no fixed master among sages. With a child’s heart, always diligent and self-reflective, all things may serve as teachers.”

At these words, those nearby, including Magistrate Xue, were not particularly moved, but the old gentleman’s expression changed.

Wu Anshi exclaimed in amazement, “Zhang Sanlang, do you realize who this is…”

But the old gentleman cut him off, “Eh…”

Wu Anshi bowed to the old gentleman and withdrew.

The old gentleman, almost to himself, murmured, “There is no fixed master among sages. Even Confucius learned from Tanzi, Chang Hong, Master Xiang, and Lao Dan. To lead by the hand and insist on control—how could one ever teach a good disciple?”

Hearing Zhang Yue’s words, it seemed as if some great doubt of his own had been resolved.

At this, the old gentleman looked at Zhang Yue and smiled, “Sanlang, well said. To keep the heart of a child is truly rare. I have a villa at Kaoting in Jianyang. Should you have the time, you are welcome to visit—I will prepare a place for you.”

Zhang Yue was momentarily taken aback, then bowed and said, “How could I presume to accept? My deepest thanks, sir.”

The old gentleman nodded and said no more.

The magistrate, inwardly astounded, now regarded Zhang Yue with even greater respect, thinking to himself that he must in future cultivate ties with this young man and never lose contact.

“Master Chen, since the elder Zhang son is unwilling to let his brother serve as a page, yet you invite him to your villa—does he truly possess such extraordinary talent that you wish to take him under your wing?” Wu Anshi asked.

“Anshi, do you think I treat people as mere tenants of my land?”

“This…”

The old gentleman said, “Your father and I have served in office for many years, and wealth and honor are nothing to us. I treat you as I would my own child. But let me give you some advice: to establish yourself at court, you must be like Xie Xuan, standing tall as an orchid or jade tree upon the steps.”

“Do you think there is anything lacking in our two families? In olden days, Lord Mengchang sent Feng Xuan to Xue to collect debts, instructing him to buy whatever was scarce. Feng Xuan, however, burned all the promissory notes. Am I in want of pages or companions? What I lack is a reputation for honoring the worthy.”

Wu Anshi blushed and said, “Your words are most true, sir.”

The old gentleman continued, “The eldest Zhang son is a good brother—not willing to let his younger brother suffer any indignity. What is wrong with that? With such a brother, how could the younger not strive to repay him? As for talent, who can say for sure at this moment? But harmony between brothers is the true sign of a flourishing family.”

Wu Anshi understood that the old gentleman was using the Zhang brothers as a lesson for himself, and he bowed his head in acknowledgment.

“Then shall I immediately seek out Zhang Sanlang and invite him to join us as a companion reader?”

He was about to leave when the old gentleman waved his hand, “No need.”

“May I ask why, sir?”

The old gentleman sighed, “This young man comes from humble origins and, unlike his second brother, is not well known. If I treat him as a companion, how would the other companions in my household feel? They would be dissatisfied, and if I could not treat him as a mentor, then neither could I treat him as a teacher.”

“I see,” said Wu Anshi, enlightened. “Then the opportunity is lost.”

“Scholars are inevitably proud. If you are too eager to recruit him, he will not understand his own worth. Let him go out and experience setbacks, suffer a bit, and when he turns back, the door will be open to him.”

On their way home, Zhang Shi looked troubled.

Zhang Yue could understand his brother’s feelings. In truth, being a page is no great hardship; as someone from modern times, he found it hard to accept, but for people of the past, it meant little.

For instance, in the Song dynasty, the renowned official Wang Shu once served as a page to his master Wang Ji, learning by his side and eventually passing the exams together—a story celebrated even then.

The brothers walked home from town for some time. Only when they were outside the city did Zhang Shi finally say, “Third Brother, you don’t blame me, do you?”

Zhang Yue did feel a twinge of regret, but was mostly thankful for his brother’s intervention. “Thank you for speaking for me, Brother. Otherwise, I might have been unable to refuse.”

Zhang Shi said, “In fact, as a companion reader, you could have participated in the local exams as a retainer. In our Jianzhou, seven can be recommended for every one successful candidate in the local exam, but in the general exam, only one or two out of a hundred pass.”

Zhang Yue was shocked—what a low rate of admission!

In the late Tang, Du Xunhe, born into poverty, failed the exams repeatedly and lamented, “Though my verses are known throughout the land, I have no kin in office.” The Song dynasty, however, had the civil service exam and anonymous grading, which cracked down on recommendation and patronage, finally allowing scholars to stand tall and declare, “Only the fairness of anonymous grading can be relied upon; the destitute should seek their fortune here.”

The emperors of Song also liked to promote scholars from humble backgrounds, balancing the court. Hence, “Those from reading families should not compete with the poor for degrees.”

Thus, the Song examination system was far more meritocratic than the Tang’s.

Still, the vast difference in admission rates between the local and general exams was disheartening for Zhang Yue. The Song had neither the xiucai nor the juren titles; even if one fought through the general exam to reach the capital for the Ministry of Rites examination, if one failed, one had to go back and take the general exam again.

Given that, why had his brother refused to let him participate in the local exam?

“Then why, Brother, were you unwilling to let me go?”

Zhang Shi replied, “I watched you grow up; how much talent you have, I know well. You just managed to answer well a moment ago; if the questioning had continued, your lack of depth would soon have been clear.”

Zhang Yue was speechless—his brother knew him all too well.

Zhang Shi added, “Besides, their sons are from noble families, probably with difficult tempers. Being a page may sound good, but it’s little different from being a servant—you need to be cunning and servile, tending to your master’s every whim. But you’ve been pampered since childhood, never having to read others’ moods or bow and scrape. How could you bear it? After much thought, I decided it wouldn’t do.”

Zhang Yue finally understood—his brother simply couldn’t bear to see him suffer.

His eyes reddened. There are those in the world who care not whether you fly high, only whether you fly too wearily.

Not wanting his brother to see his feelings, Zhang Yue bowed his head and said, “I understand, Brother.”

Zhang Shi, thinking Zhang Yue was upset, quickly said, “Don’t worry—it’s only studying. I’ll find you a fine teacher.”

“Wonderful!”

Relieved, Zhang Shi glanced at a vendor selling rice noodles atop the Nanpu Bridge and said, “Third Brother, you must be hungry.”

“Yes!” Zhang Yue nodded emphatically, his stomach growling in response.

Soon the brothers were perched on the bridge rail, each holding a large bowl, slurping noodles heartily.

Below, the stream rushed by; above, passersby bustled on, struggling for their livelihoods. Thunder rumbled on the horizon, promising rain.

A summer night—a torrential downpour!

The sound of rain was unceasing, perfect for curling up in bed and sleeping. After Zhang Yue drifted off, he found himself entering another world.

The events of the day played before him like a lantern show.

The doubts he had at the Peng residence, upon reflection, became crystal clear. Now he had no objection to his brother’s decision—he was even grateful for it.

As the old gentleman had once told him, “Of all things, the heart of youth is the deepest, clearest in dreams.”

The heart of youth must be constantly cleansed.

Yet Buddhists dislike this notion of cleansing. According to the old saying, “The body is the bodhi tree, the mind a bright mirror stand; keep it always polished, let no dust alight.” But this was long considered the work of the uninitiated, hence the later line, “There is no bodhi tree, nor mirror bright; from the first, not a thing exists—so where can dust alight?”

In truth, if one is to accomplish anything, one must exert effort; effort requires wholehearted dedication, and how can that be done without heart? Thus, the heart of youth lies in purity.

Purity is the constant return to one’s original intentions—this is what it means to cleanse.

Why is cleansing important? Because, as the saying goes, “consistency is key.” Conversely, “to see the path but never walk it.”

There are countless roads in life; sometimes, the choices matter more than the effort.

Becoming a page is a common choice for the poor, but for Zhang Yue, could he really endure a decade of humiliation, bowing and scraping for a chance at success?

Forget it. He was the sort of person who, if stepped on, would step right back. Could he really play the humble servant?

If he took that path, he might never rise again.

So don’t be tempted by immediate gain. Ask yourself honestly what you want, what you don’t want, what you can achieve, and what you cannot.

Zhang Yue now knew with perfect clarity that he did not wish to walk that road. Fortunately, his brother had refused on his behalf; had he given in to temptation and agreed, only to regret it later, he would have made powerful enemies.

Since he would not take that road, which path would he choose?

Suddenly, another vision unfolded: he dreamed of his second brother, Zhang Xu.

In his dream, Zhang Xu went to the capital, was recommended by their teacher Chen Xiang, and, as a government student, passed the provincial exam, then the metropolitan and palace exams, and finally became a jinshi. He earned the favor of the prime minister Wen Yanbo, who gave him his daughter’s hand in marriage.

His brother returned home in glory, the villagers praising him for bringing honor to the family. He not only redeemed their lost property, but even the county magistrate and others vied to curry favor with… himself.

Zhao, the county registrar, wept and begged forgiveness, pleading for mercy.

Thanks to his brother’s success, Zhang Yue would no longer have to study so hard; he would become an official by association and live a life of ease and happiness.

One day, swaggering down the street with seven or eight young scions, he caught sight of a beautiful maiden and was instantly smitten…

At this point, the dream ended, and upon waking, Zhang Yue was left feeling rather annoyed for half the day.

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