Chapter 11

Zhuo Siheng left the township this time in a very different frame of mind from the last.

Both times were for the sake of an exam, but last time his father had seen to everything, and he'd still been mulling over his exam preparations as he climbed onto the cart. This time he was the head of the household setting out alone, and watching his two sisters and his brother see him off in the snow, his heart was wrung with reluctance — however he looked at it, he couldn't set his mind at ease.

"Xiao Hui, you're to keep an eye on your sister's and brother's lessons; after I've gone you'll run the house — but you mustn't wear yourself out, your health comes first... Xiao Ci, your sister looks after the house, so you look after your sister's health, and don't only think about gadding off out... Xiao Xi, remember what your eldest brother told you — when reading tires you, go out and walk about, don't stay cooped up the whole time; and remember the cooking at home is your job, and you're to cherish your two sisters, and in anything that comes up at home, ask Second Sister first..."

"You're only twenty — how are you more of a nag than an old man like me!" Old Huyan, who genuinely couldn't stand to hear Zhuo Siheng's fussing any longer, cut him off. "They're three big, lively children, not babies, and there's me and the Zhu couple keeping watch, and my grandson's coming back any day now — among the four of us we'll manage your family just fine! A good man's ambitions lie in the four corners of the world. Get moving now, and no dawdling!"

Zhu Tong and his wife, there to see him off as well, also laughed at a grown man being so motherly; but Zhuo Siheng simply couldn't help it. This journey would take him far away for a long time — perhaps he wouldn't see his family again until next year, a whole winter — and there was no knowing whether his sisters and brother would have enough to eat and warm clothes to wear. With him gone, what would they do...

Zhuo Siheng recalled the words Zhuo Yan had spoken to him from his sickbed: that his going to seek a great future would do the younger ones more good; that if the family ever fell into real hardship, he was to put family matters and kinship first; but if the household were secure for the time being, he must not fail the learning of a lifetime — he must sit the examinations, pass, and win a degree and rank.

Thinking of his father's hopes for his rank and future and his mother's old wish for him to have a happy life, Zhuo Siheng gathered his courage and sprang up onto the snow-sledge cart, drawn by a single sturdy-legged pony — the only means of getting about Shuozhou in winter.

"You've got to eat at proper times too, Elder Brother, and don't grudge spending the silver. I've tucked some useful medicine pills and prescriptions into your baggage, and thicker shoes and socks... I heard from Father that for the exam you must dress warmly to get through the nights, and you need a single-layer bedroll too... whatever Father ever mentioned, I've got it ready for you." Huiheng was the gentlest on the outside and the firmest within; now she fought back her tears with all her might and gripped her eldest brother's hand. "Leave the house to your sister and set your mind at ease; don't dwell on it so much that it disturbs your studying. If anything comes up, get word home quick — there are still three breathing cobblers here who'll surely put their heads together and help you work it out. The three of us will get on just fine at home; we'll only be waiting for your good news to come back..."

"Elder Brother..." Ciheng hadn't her sister's poise and gravity; tears had already run to her cheeks, freezing her round little face bright red. "If you run into bad men, Elder Brother, don't you go soft — that dagger I gave you is the one Doctor Rong used back in the army camp, it cuts through bone and flesh like slicing melon and chopping vegetables, so you lay into those bad men with it! And that herb sachet I gave you — don't mind that my needlework isn't as good as our sister's; when reading makes you drowsy and worn out, take it out and give it a sniff, it's very bracing... Elder Brother... the moment you get there, have someone bring word back..."

As she spoke, the more Ciheng thought about it the less she could bear to part; she broke into sobs and threw herself into Zhuo Siheng's arms, wailing.

Xiheng, all this while, kept silent, his eyes faintly red, seeming to hold back with all his strength the reluctance, worry and care he was suppressing, and only after a long moment spoke: "I've copied out a few books for you to read on the road, Elder Brother. You're gentle and easy by nature, but away from home a man can't be without his guard up — you can't just endure everything and hold it all in."

Zhuo Siheng gathered his two sisters and his brother into his arms, the tears already frozen on his cheeks.

The other villagers seeing him off, watching this family of parentless children so deep in feeling and devotion, sighed without end; some, unable to help it, had already turned away to quietly wipe the tears from the corners of their eyes.

"All right, move out — don't miss the hour for reaching the post station to spend the night; the sun goes down fast now." Zhu Tong's eyes glistened too; he drew the three younger Zhuo children to him and pressed a cloth bundle on Zhuo Siheng. "They heard you were setting out today, so the village head and the others had me bring these along — food and odds and ends. 'Poor at home, rich on the road' — out making your way in the world, you can never have too much. And your aunt rushed to finish two thick robes for you, made over from your Fifth Uncle's clothes; don't turn your nose up at them for being old — old clothes are the comfortable ones to wear! And another thing, your brother's right: with that good temper of yours, growing a few extra eyes for caution out there won't do you any wrong."

The other villagers who'd come to see him off, mindful of Zhuo Yan's kindness over the years and of Zhuo Siheng's own goodness, had all prepared some dry rations for the road as well. Zhuo Siheng jumped down again and thanked the villagers with a solemn, full bow before climbing back onto the sledge.

"The things I'm giving you are all on the sledge," Old Huyan said, clapping Zhuo Siheng hard on the shoulder. "Good lad! Do us proud!"

That said, he urged the driver not to waste the hour and to set off at once.

Two deep tracks slowly appeared across the snow. Zhuo Siheng looked back again and again, but the people he wanted to see grew smaller and smaller, until they vanished from sight.

He straightened up, and in the end saw only the ranks of snow-covered trees and the frozen-over creek; and as they traveled farther, the familiar scenery disappeared, all of it.

Zhuo Siheng slumped down. The pain of parting and the heart set on chasing his path were nearly tearing him in two.

Perhaps worn out from weeping so long, he fell asleep on the snow-sledge under a felt blanket, and when he woke he'd already reached the post station. He put up there a night, then set off for Ningshuo City to change to an official post carriage and take the highroad.

Unlike the last time he'd gone to Ningshuo, the winter roads were hard going, and a day's journey stretched into two. The driver reassured him there was no need to fret: once they'd changed to the highroad, even if it took ten days or a fortnight to cross the whole of Weizhou to Ningxing Prefecture, he'd certainly be in time.

In truth Zhuo Siheng was not anxious. He'd worked the timing out carefully: it was still only the middle of the ninth month, and the prefectural examination at Ningxing was set for the early eleventh month — nearly two months, more than enough to get from Shuozhou to Yunzhong in the Northern Capital, with time to spare there even to settle in and prepare. His only worry was some hitch along the way, or a delay getting his paperwork in Ningshuo; leaving a margin ahead of time was the key to never fighting a battle unprepared.

These were points Zhuo Yan had told him, back when he was alive; now that he was putting them to use, his father was no longer there.

This journey seemed, as if by some unseen will of heaven, to go especially smoothly. In Ningshuo City the sealing of his documents and the issuing of his transit permit went very quickly, and after only a day's stay he was aboard a roomy, warm official post carriage again. Zhuo Siheng put it down to there being hardly anyone here to sit the prefectural exam — apart from a few idle clerks he was the only one at the yamen, so there was no question of efficiency about it at all.

Though it was still autumn, Shuozhou was no different from the dead of winter, and very few people were out. The post carriage was half heaped with goods and mail, and the two or three others aboard seemed all to be off visiting relatives, dozing off the moment they'd climbed in with their bundles big and small. Someone, seeing he was a student going to sit the examinations, offered a word or two of blessing in passing, and Zhuo Siheng thanked them politely.

The official post carriage went in fits and starts; convenient for resting, but it couldn't make good speed, especially as it had to run out to some of the villages. So whenever they reached a post station, Zhuo Siheng would have to haul down his whole heap of things and go ask which way came next. If it lay on his route, well and good; if not, he could only rest where he was and wait for the next carriage to pass, or for some private goods train or cart to carry him a stretch. Sometimes he'd wait a long while and not a soul would come, and then he had no choice but to follow a map the post soldier had drawn, shoulder his baggage alone across the ice and snow, and trek to the next checkpoint.

Waiting and walking like this, it took him ten days just to get out of Shuozhou — a good deal slower than he'd reckoned.

Still, mercifully, once he reached Weizhou the climate was no longer so harsh, and the villages, colonies and small counties he passed grew visibly more numerous. It was a prefectural seat under military administration, after all; the population thickened and so did the checkpoints, and the stop-and-go ate up no little time.

By the time Zhuo Siheng, travel-worn the whole way, finally crossed into Ningxing Prefecture's territory, it was past the middle of the tenth month, the ragged end of autumn, the cold's last tail.

He heard along the way that Ningxing Prefecture had just had its first snow, cold coming on but not yet arrived. Zhuo Siheng had meant to hurry into the city and spend his time settling in there, so he hadn't lingered much on the road. Over these days of travel a full beard had grown out along his jaw, and with that and his complete Shuozhou winter traveling getup of furs and fleece, he'd been stopped and questioned several times already by the soldiers at the checkpoints along the road, only let go once he produced his permit.

And ever since he'd entered Ningxing Prefecture, whenever he got back on the post carriage the others aboard would shrink away to sit as far off as they could, stealing frightened glances at him now and then.

He reckoned his distinguished appearance by now landed somewhere between a hunter and a mountain bandit, its intimidating power a fair match for the combined effect of a sleeve tattoo and a gold chain. His sisters and brother really needn't worry about his safety on the road.

Strange to say, though Ningxing Prefecture was in the north too and had already had snow, right now it was more like deep autumn: russet-red leaves fell the length of his road as he traveled, a brisk northwesterly swept over heaven and earth, the autumn air was high and crisp, the sky clear and the clouds bright, and through the lonely bleakness ran a fresh, lively note in the heart. The wind on the road was sharp but cold without biting, and even sweating from wearing too much, Zhuo Siheng lingered eagerly over the vivid autumn colors he'd never seen before, his mood open and expansive, no longer feeling the toil and hardship of the journey — and thinking, moreover, that one day he must surely bring his brother and sisters here to enjoy the sights.

Yunzhong, the Northern Capital, lay at the very heart of Ningxing Prefecture; to the west Mituo Ridge sheltered it and held off the cold of the northern lands, and to the south the Jingning Canal ran up to bring it the wealth of far places. And its walls were higher than any Zhuo Siheng had seen at Ningshuo — the walls of Yunzhong City were all raised of dark-gray solid rock; look up at them and your hat fell off and your neck ached, and the whole was like a mountain range, easily overwhelming the presence of Ningshuo's rammed-earth walls, giving an air of grave, inviolable dignity. Three gates opened out in a row, the largest of them wide enough for three carriages and their four-horse teams to pass through abreast.

Grown far more mature though he was than when he'd entered Ningshuo City all those years ago, Zhuo Siheng was still driven by curiosity and wonder to look all about him, and his face still wore an astonished, marveling look as the garrison soldiers questioned him at the entry.

Yet he kept his ever-present attentiveness all the same, and noticed that among the crowd entering the city, ahead of him and behind, there were now many who looked like scholars and students — come together, no doubt, to sit the prefectural examination here.

Suddenly he had an ominous feeling: with so many people coming here to test, surely he wasn't going to find there were no suitable rooms left to book now...

Zhuo Siheng's heart sank, and with no more mind to admire the bustle of the great city, he pressed in as fast as he could, asked the way and found the neighborhood of the examination compound, and inquired at many of the inns and lodging-houses opened up there — every one already out of rooms. He was a little anxious at first, but soon hit on an idea, and walked on a few streets farther to go on asking.

He hadn't really wanted to ask at the inns that looked more lavish and dear, but there was no being choosy now — finding somewhere to put up was what mattered — so he stepped into the nearest one, an inn called the Dongwang Tower.

This place was indeed unlike the little inns he'd been to before: a broad hall with carved beams held at least thirty-odd plain, antique square tables, nearly all of them full, and in a small light-well in the central court grew a gnarled, many-twisted maple, its crimson leaves drifting down on the wind into the hall. Everywhere the eye fell was wealth and refined elegance.

By now some of the idle guests seated there had turned to look at him — with a getup like this, there was simply no not standing out.

One sweep of his eyes told Zhuo Siheng he probably couldn't afford to stay here long; but he hadn't spent much along the way and was well enough off for silver, so spending one modest night here to freshen up before thinking of something else wasn't a bad notion. So he asked the waiter at the counter, "Excuse me, are there any ordinary rooms left?"

The waiter looked him over and asked, "Would the gentleman be... a traveling merchant on his rounds?"

"I've come to sit the examination."

No sooner had he spoken than a burst of laughter broke out from a nearby table.

"Gentlemen, didn't I say that with our sage sovereign governing the realm and the administration so clean, the love of learning is rising and reaching a thousand li? Look — even some black bear out of who-knows-what mountain gully has come crawling out to sit the examinations."

The man's voice was very loud and pitched high, and when he'd finished he laughed without the least restraint. Every guest in the hall turned to look, and seeing Zhuo Siheng got up as he was, they all understood what the speaker was laughing at; some couldn't hold back their own laughter, while others sighed rather and shook their heads without a word.

Zhuo Siheng knew perfectly well he was being laughed at, of course, but he felt no humiliation over it.

Anyone who'd known the wind and snow of Shuozhou would know how warm and comfortable these clothes were.

It was one's range of experience, after all, that decided what one understood.

He privately reminded himself that from now on, whenever he came to a new place with new ways, he must be sure never to speak flippantly or pass idle comment on customs he didn't understand and things he'd never seen, lest he set himself in a short-sighted position and cultivate a narrow cast of mind.

"This... I'm afraid there aren't any ordinary rooms the gentleman could take..." The waiter was quite shrewd; he could judge Zhuo Siheng's means and guessed the room-rent he could pay was pitifully small, so he turned him away in a fairly polite fashion, adding, "Sir, it's not so cold here with us — mind you don't work up a sweat under all that and fall ill. Once you find somewhere to rest, change out of that cloak first."

It was a refusal, but there was goodwill in it too; Zhuo Siheng thanked the waiter with a smile and walked out, the laughter and the pointing still following him like a shadow. He only strode on, and what reached his ears might as well not have.

The street was thick with carriages and horses, and Zhuo Siheng, standing at its edge, cut a rather forlorn figure.

For all his careful reckoning he'd still lost a bit of time, and he had no acquaintance in Yunzhong, the Northern Capital, to take him in — he could hardly sleep in the road, could he? He raised his eyes and looked all around, and saw that this spot was already some distance from the examination compound, with a good many more private dwellings crowded close together along the lanes.

An idea came to him all at once, and he shouldered his bundles and dashed into one of the little alleys.

Sure enough, near the examination compound many households were now letting out their empty spare rooms for examinees to stay in, at prices far fairer than the inns, with meals included besides. The rooms were mostly cramped and old, and badly oriented, many of them junk rooms hastily converted; but for a candidate who'd be staying the better part of a month, they were the best value for money by far.

He picked a quiet household set well back from the street, where only two old people lived with their grandson; the price was fair, so he paid a month's rent and moved his things into a narrow room on the second floor. It was clean and bright, the bed comfortable, and they'd even thoughtfully provided an old table and chairs.

Zhuo Siheng sighed to himself: no matter the dynasty or the age, school-district property was forever the first pick for a real-estate investment.

With a place to settle now fixed, he finally shed the heavy furs, drew water for a thoroughly comfortable bath, and, carrying all the travel-worn weariness of the road, dropped straight into bed and fell peacefully asleep.