Chapter 47

Chen Dasheng and the rest dragged their sacks along. More and more old men hemmed them in, and they followed the one called Lord Yuxi deeper into the lane.

The old men chanted, now and again, of bones unbending and unbowed, of the body dying while the spirit lives on. And they said a great deal, over and over, about bamboo and a red, loyal heart.

Chen Dasheng held a natural dread toward scholars. It was a dread of the power behind the written word, the power that had once held life and death over him.

Hemmed in like that, they reached the middle of the lane. The crowd halted, and from a three-gated mansion a great troop of women and children came pouring out. At their head a silver-haired old woman stumbled forward, her face all grief, her whole body shaking.

Two daughters-in-law held her up. She came before the old man, said only "Husband!" and burst into a rain of tears.

But the old man flung out his sleeve and said, high and grand: "This is a happy thing! A good thing, that shelters our descendants to live with heads held high! What is there to weep for? Truly, women..."

At that the weeping only rose louder, so loud that Chen Dasheng turned to go. But turning, he saw a middle-aged man in a corner by the wall, holding a blue-clad page, pointing this way, then toward the lane-mouth, giving some sharp order.

The clamor was too great. Chen Dasheng couldn't catch it. But his instinct said the thing had to do with him.

The page shot a hard glare their way, turned, and ran off at a sprint.

Chen Dasheng was thoroughly muddled, and then something heavy was pressed into his hand. Startled, he looked down. Several gold hairpins?

He jumped, looked up, and saw them: twenty-odd women and children at the gate, old and young, all taking the ornaments from their hair, from their wrists, and pressing them into his men's hands.

The old woman who'd given Chen Dasheng the pins pleaded, eyes streaming: "Officer, my husband is old and failing. Even if you don't take him today, he'll not live many more days! Have mercy. You must not put him to torture..."

And with that the old woman all but fainted away, and had to be patted and rubbed back to breath.

How could Chen Dasheng take such things? By now, if he still didn't grasp what was happening, he'd be a fool indeed.

He hurried to gather the things from his baffled brothers' hands, turned, and pressed them back into the nearest women's hands, cupping his own in apology: "Sirs, ladies, we cannot take this. I, I think you've mistaken us..."

The old woman had just got her breath back, and wasn't about to hear Chen Dasheng out. Seeing him refuse the bribe, she took it that they meant to torture her husband for certain, and in her turmoil fainted clean away.

At once, before Lord Yuxi's gate, the wailing shook the heavens. People toppled, feet stamped, some carried the fainted off, and all manner of Songs of Righteous Spirit and loyal-heart ballads came pouring from the old gentlemen's mouths...

Seeing the scene past managing, Chen Dasheng reached out and caught Mr. Zhang Guanneng, who was also leaping about, worked up with the rest: "Sir, this old gentleman. You saw just now how it was..."

Zhang Guanneng flung off Chen Dasheng's hand as if shaking off filth, and cursed: "Shameless creature! You dare lay hands on me..." Then his voice stopped short. His eyes rolled, and he lowered his head and rammed straight at Chen Dasheng's chest.

He cried: "You'll take Lord Yuxi today over my dead body...!"

There was no way Chen Dasheng would let himself be rammed. He dodged aside, and the old man charged at the wall instead. Luckily Yu Qingguan was quick. He dropped his cloth sack and caught the old man round the waist.

That did it. The two unhobbled big cocks in his sack broke free, and began flapping and flying about everywhere.

"My chickens!"

Yu Qingguan, frantic, let go the old man, set him down, and plunged into the crowd after the birds.

There were women there, and up went another round of shrieking.

Chen Dasheng looked at Zhang Guanneng sprawled on the ground, and at the pandemonium all round, and, helpless, climbed onto the family's high step and shouted: "We're not here to arrest anyone! We've come to seek a master!!"

The scene was still chaos. He had to shout it again.

This time they all heard it, and froze.

Silence all round. Lord Yuxi, sweat pouring from his worked-up brow, heard Chen Dasheng say it and refused outright to believe it.

A whole street of people were watching. He couldn't afford the loss of face.

The people stopped their frenzy and looked at one another, puzzled, and said nothing. Only the panicked squawking of the fleeing cocks broke the quiet now and then.

Yu Qingguan caught a chicken at last, pinched its wings, and looked up, crying in delight: "Got it...!"

Before the words were out, a great shout came from beyond the crowd: "Stop! Every one of you, stop for this prince!"

The crowd parted, and a man came striding in. Thirty-odd, his features clean and open, a sable-and-pearl cap on his head, a stone-blue kesi cloak over his shoulders, black velvet snow-boots on his feet.

He came into the midst of them, looked round once, then said aloud: "Be at ease, sirs. Let this prince first ask the reason clearly and then weigh what's to be done. I promise you, I'll let none of you suffer the smallest wrong."

That said, robe swirling, he turned and glared at Chen Dasheng: "I am Prince Yang Kui! And which garrison are you of?"

These last two grand courts, Chen Dasheng had asked Recorder Liu and many others, and only just learned the court ministers' faces. But of the clan princes, who didn't attend court, he was wholly in the dark.

Still, since the man called himself a prince, Chen Dasheng cupped his hands by the proper courtesy: "Well met, Your Highness. This officer is Chen Dasheng, Recorder of the Long Saber Guard."

Yang Kui started: "The Long Saber Guard? You're those city-gate marquises?"

Chen Dasheng said: "The very ones, Your Highness."

At that Yang Kui's face changed with alarm: "Could it, could it be the imperial brother's own order? No wonder I, I never knew of it..."

Chen Dasheng said quickly: "Don't mistake it, Your Highness! This has nothing to do with the Emperor. We few can't read, and only wanted to find a good teacher to learn our letters. We're all from out of town, don't know the local ways, and asked the wrong people. That's what brought this misunderstanding. Don't trouble yourself, Your Highness. I've already explained it. It's a mistake..."

Someone at his side put in: "You, what did you say?"

Chen Dasheng turned, and saw a face twisted with feeling. It was Lord Yuxi, who asked again, trembling: "You, say that again?"

Seeing Lord Yuxi didn't believe him, Chen Dasheng earnestly explained once more: "Sir, it's truly a mistake. We can't read, and came to find a teacher to learn from... Oh, wait a moment."

Chen Dasheng turned and had his brothers hold up their full sacks, and opened them one by one for the old gentlemen to see: "When I set out I asked around. To seek a master you must prepare the six gifts for the tuition-offering. But nothing's easy to buy in Yanjing now. Celery and red beans, lotus root and red dates and longan are truly hard to find. Luckily, dried meat we could get. The rest we could only make do with other things. Look..."

Chen Dasheng scooped up a double handful of white rice and came before Lord Yuxi, all sincerity: "See, sir, this is fine white rice. We truly came to seek a master."

Lord Yuxi looked at the handful of white rice, and at the seven blank-faced fighting men before him, and, thinking what a vast loss of face he'd suffered today, said only: "You'll be the death of me..."

He shoved out a hand, and the handful of rice scattered onto the snow-mud trampled underfoot.

Lord Yuxi fainted dead away, and again was carried off by a jumble of hands.

The dignified three-leaf gate slowly closed. The reveling crowd reined in their feelings, and one after another fixed Chen Dasheng and his men with looks of utter contempt.

Chen Dasheng felt that even to be sent back to Tan the Second's Long Saber Battalion, back to the killing-field of open slaughter, his heart would not have ached like this.

Zhang Guanneng, whose suicide had failed, climbed up from the ground meaning to go home too. But a few steps on, his chest too full to bear, he turned and berated Chen Dasheng loudly: "Do you even know where this is?"

Chen Dasheng started, and answered: "Isn't it, isn't it where teachers live...?"

Zhang Guanneng blanked a moment, then sneered, cold and scornful: "Hmph! You don't even know where you are, and men like you dare come seeking a master?"

That said, he flung out his sleeve and left too.

Chen Dasheng stood stunned. He looked round the long street, and at these people... it seemed he'd come to the wrong place.

Guan Si'er came up behind and tugged his big brother's sleeve: "Chief... our, our rice."

That said, the boy slowly crouched and, in earnest, picked the mud-and-water-soaked rice from the ground, grain by grain.

Chen Dasheng stood dazed a good while, then crouched with his brothers and picked up the rice, grain by grain.

Rice like this, a handful could save a life. Washed at home, it could still be eaten, still be fragrant. Tonight... they'd eat it, then. The brothers had craved white rice so long, and saved it up all this while...

It took some time, but Chen Dasheng and the rest gathered up every grain, shouldered their sacks, and started back the way they'd come.

Leaving the lane-mouth, Chen Dasheng and his brothers looked in silence at those chastity arches, and thought: they'd not come to this place again.

At the crossing, Chen Dasheng saw the prince's carriage once more.

The middle-aged man who'd carried the word was making a proper bow of thanks. The prince, all gentle courtesy, put out both hands to raise him. Neither so much as glanced at Chen Dasheng. Men like that never would.

But a little eunuch of rank, standing by the carriage-shaft, saw Chen Dasheng and the rest all bedraggled from grubbing rice off the ground, and laughed. Hearing his master's scornful words at his ear, his eyes rolled. He drew a purse of coins from his pocket and flung it at Chen Dasheng and the rest, laughing: "You fellows! Hard work today, here's some wine-money for you... AH!!!"

On the snow-white ground the purse dropped, and a severed hand parted from its arm and dropped too, blood welling and welling, until, little by little, it dyed a patch of it red...

The little eunuch, unable to bear the pain, clutched his arm, shrieked a few times, and fainted from the agony.

Chen Dasheng, face blank, put his saber away, and made the dumbstruck prince a bow: "There are matters still at the garrison. We'll, we'll take our leave now!"

He turned and walked off, and only a good way on did he hear someone cursing behind him: "Insolent whelp! You dare wound my personal attendant! This prince will go to the palace and impeach you...!"

Chen Dasheng walked the whole way in silence, only his wife's words going round and round at his ear. Take a man's reward, and from then on you're a servant in his eyes, to be beaten or killed at his whim. He'll never count you a person at all...

Now, he hadn't taken the reward. But was he a person yet?

It seemed... still not quite...

Back at the garrison, Chen Dasheng carried the little packet of rice to the kitchen himself, and washed it over and over in clean water...

Within the Great Liang palace, the crisp crack of a discipline-board sounded, stroke by stroke.

Today the Sixth Prince had again been holding forth in the schoolroom on tales of immortals. And who wants to read when there are stories to hear? The few small princes, and the little princelings of the clan houses, listened rapt, too lazy even to turn a page, all crowded round him.

The teacher, helpless, could only bring the little prince himself before His Majesty.

The Emperor, helpless too, had to carry out the punishment himself.

A father beating his son can't bear to strike hard. But it hurt all the same.

The Sixth Prince, Yang Qian, his eyes full of tears, would not for his life own himself wrong. He only demanded of his father: "Why must I learn those useless things? Isn't it better to be an immortal?"

The Emperor, helpless, raised the force of the paddle, and as he struck said: "Why? Ha, because one day you won't be able to be an immortal, and you'll have to keep yourself alive by those useless things."

The Sixth Prince refused utterly to believe it, and wept, pouting: "It hurts, Father! Why can't your son be an immortal? Your son is an immortal, ah! I'll go tell Mother Xiao..."

The Emperor turned his face up to hold in a laugh, then lowered his head and went on gravely: "Tell whomever you like, it's no use. You ask me why you can't be an immortal?" He let out a slow breath: "Because your father will die one day, sooner or later. And with me gone, you won't be able to be an immortal either..."

"Your Majesty, guard your words!"

From outside the hall came a gentle, warm rebuke, and in came a palace consort. Her features were bright and striking, a sable cap on her head, a rose-cloud cloak over her, a great red gold-woven jacket of five-colored peonies. She stopped a little way off and made the Emperor a knee-braced bow: "Your servant greets Your Majesty."

The Emperor looked at her, and at last, helpless, let go the little fat one's hand: "A-duo's come. Rise."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. Little Six is naughty. I'll take him back and school him..."

The Sixth Prince had borne it to the limit. The moment he saw her he burst into loud wails, and raised his hand and ran to her to complain: "Mother... Father won't be reasonable, waa...!"

The Emperor bared his teeth, and had just made to say something when Zhang Minwang came in and murmured a string of words at his ear.

At which His Majesty's face showed a rare astonishment.

Consort Xiao, seeing the Emperor had business, at once withdrew with the Sixth Prince.

When mother and son had gone, the Emperor shook his head and sighed, helpless: "Ha, a doting mother spoils the son! What has she indulged him into? A few strokes and he runs for reinforcements? Every time. I'll see just how far she means to spoil him..."

From the side came a scornful snort. Eunuch She, reading in the corner, looked up and jeered: "You knew it would go so, and still you put them together, and now you complain? Too late! I think it's very well. A-duo lost two children at Tongyan Mountain, and the Sixth Prince lost his mother. The two of them together suits well enough. Your Majesty's glad enough of it in his heart. I don't know what he complains of each time."

The Emperor seemed born with a taste for it. Every time, Eunuch She jeered at him, and he never tired of it. Anger didn't come into it. He even found it a pleasure, no different from the old days.

He chuckled sheepishly a while, then said to Steward Zhang: "Send Prince Xing up."

Eunuch She set down his book and asked, puzzled: "Yang Kui? What brings him?"

"Who knows! Forever leaping about with those old sticks of the fallen dynasty... come to lay a complaint?"

The Emperor had no brothers or sisters. His rise had leaned on the Empress Dowager Zheng and other ties, while his own clan, being middling-to-low in the great genealogy, had the will but not the means to help.

Prince Xing, Yang Kui, was among the more presentable of the Emperor's cousins. Clever from boyhood, gifted at study, before the Emperor's revolt he'd already held the licentiate's degree.

And because of the revolt, this once-prized unicorn-colt of the clan had had his examination road cut off.

The Emperor had made many clan princes this time, a dozen and more. Toward his kin he felt no great fondness, kin, that was all. They'd kept an easy distance before, and to grow close again would take time.

After his investiture, Prince Xing had at once moved from Shaoshang into Yanjing, and straightaway thrown in his days with the great scholars and students, holding literary gatherings times over. He was a bookworm, and this was only to be expected.

As they were speaking, Prince Xing came in cradling a box, his face flushed red with anger, and knelt straight down before the Emperor, with the air of, if you don't right my wrong I'll not get up.

This? Who had driven the mild-mannered Prince Xing to such a pitch?

The Emperor, smiling, had him helped up, and kindly bade him sit.

When he was settled, the Emperor asked: "Who's so bold as to anger our man of letters to this state?" He looked at the box on the floor: "And what's this?"

Prince Xing gasped a few quick breaths, then lifted his face and said, agitated: "Does Your Majesty remember Tahuai?"

How would the Emperor know Tahuai?

But he nodded good-naturedly: "Mm, Tahuai? What of him?"

Prince Xing, past bearing, pointed at the box: "Your Majesty, this is Tahuai's hand! You don't know. Those coarse, unspeakable city-gate marquises of yours are outrageous..."

"Aiyo, mother of mine! My ancestors! You truly, how could you bring this thing in here..."

Zhang Minwang cried out, and hurried to plant himself before the imperial desk, as if in dread the blood-taint might reach the imperial person.

The guards outside were summoned in, and carried the ill-omened box away.

Prince Xing was still not used to his own standing. Without a reminder, he simply couldn't recall that this cousin of his, right, right, was the Emperor now.

He rose, murmuring, knelt again to beg pardon: "Your, Your Majesty forgive me. I, your servant was rash."

The Emperor waved a hand, smiling: "Get up. It's nothing. They made a fuss over nothing. On the battlefield in the old days we saw how much blood a day, and now they can't bear the sight."

Prince Xing rose, and sat again, this time bolt upright.

The Emperor took a stack of urgent memorials Zhang Minwang handed him, and, reading and marking them, asked without much interest: "So, what of my city-gate marquises?"

Right, right, that most important matter.

Prince Xing grew heated again, and began from the moment he'd got the plea for help from Lord Yuxi's eldest son. Along the way, telling it, he couldn't help the scholar's disdain creeping into his tone. That Lord Yuxi, whom even he could scarcely reach, and these coarse fellows dared come to his door with cocks and sacks of grain to insult him?

That's right, that was how he saw it: Chen Dasheng seeking a master was an insult to the man. And what a man! The old dynasty's old top graduate, a minister of three reigns, a great scholar famed through all the realm!

He was, to be fair, a gentleman. He didn't embroider it. He only said, at the end, that his eunuch Tahuai, seeing the weather cold and these rejected men so pitiful, had kindly given them wine-money, and that these fellows, brutish and lawless, had ignored his princely rank and cut off his eunuch's hand before his very eyes...

He finished at last. But up above, the Emperor kept on, all this while, at his busy work.

Not until two bowls of tea had gone dry did the Emperor set down the vermilion brush, look at Prince Xing, and say, without a flicker of feeling: "Since when does a household eunuch of yours get to hand out a tip to a city-gate marquis I ennobled myself? What do you take my subjects for, the bond-servants who kept your gate in the old days?"

Yang Kui had been uneasy all along. Hearing His Majesty say this, he went back to the front and knelt again.

His Majesty was magnanimous still: "Get up. We're brothers of one house, and this isn't the old dynasty. No need to kneel and kneel."

He had Prince Xing raised, heard him beg pardon, then said with a smile: "It's nothing. It's your first time being a prince, and my first time being an emperor. We'll both grow into these roles slowly, all right?"

Prince Xing, legs weak, said yes, and made to beg leave and go. But at the door he heard His Majesty say: "That, that eunuch of yours, what was his name again?"

Prince Xing turned, trembling, and murmured: "Ta, Tahuai."

The Emperor thought, and smiled: "Prince Xing is a simple soul, after all. Still, a love of books is a good thing. I'll have them send you a few sets of old editions later. That, mm, Tahuai? Tahuai! Grant him the breaking of the spine. Since he looks down on my city-gate marquis, then if he doesn't die, let him live crawling on the ground from now on. And Prince Xing, don't grieve. Later I'll grant you another Tahuai. One's not enough? Then I'll give you two Tahuais, how's that?"

Prince Xing slowly sat down in the doorway, and only after a good while turned and gave thanks, and was helped away.

The room was quiet a spell. The Emperor marked the last memorial, then looked up at Eunuch She: "The brat's improved no little!"

Eunuch She nodded, but said: "Those houses behind the Imperial Academy were granted by the old dynasty to the Hanlin lecturers and compilers, and to the old academy Libationers and Directors of Studies. Which is to say, come next spring, our own Academy must open too..."

A smile touched the Emperor's mouth, and he asked, half laughing, half not: "Not one to be used?"

Eunuch She, all scorn, gave a light snort: "They live for the day they can die a martyr and leave a name for a thousand ages! Aren't you afraid they'd teach our Academy's students crooked? Useless men... to plug a tooth-gap with?"

The Emperor tapped the desk with a finger and sighed: "But to drive them out, for the name of the thing... ahem, it wouldn't look well."

Eunuch She rose slowly and said, disdainful: "What of it? Move them elsewhere to teach and rear up scholars. The Qingfeng prefectural school has stood empty a good while. Send them there, count it Your Majesty's grace besides. After all, our Libationer, our Five Classics Erudites of Great Liang, must have somewhere to lodge, mustn't they. There, this humble one takes his leave! Ten thousand years to Your Majesty!"

Eunuch She turned and left, and the Emperor sat dumb a good while, then said to Zhang Minwang, half vexed, half fond: "Look at him, 'this humble one' this, 'this humble one' that. He does it on purpose, doesn't he?"

Zhang Minwang smacked his lips and stammered: "The, the little ancestor, what should he say? Not 'this humble one'? That wouldn't be fitting either..."

The Emperor's put-on vexation slowly drained away. He sat a long while, then said: "You came to my side late. You never saw Qingling as he was in those years..."

That said, the Emperor walked slowly to the hall door, looked out at the great snow, and said softly: "Like this snow, there's no cleaner soul than his... just the same as Ruyi."

Zhang Minwang dared not speak, and waited on him in silence.

The Emperor stood a long time, and said at last: "Have Fifth look into it. Dasheng and the rest, new here and knowing nothing, how did they come to go to Scholar's Lane, of all places... If there's nothing behind it, I don't believe it."

That night, the Long Saber Guard's lively little table was silent as could be. Every man drank his white gruel in earnest. Too much grit and sand was mixed in the rice. Clean as it was, you still met a grain or two of sand.

Chen Dasheng didn't dare chew. He swallowed the gritty gruel in big gulps, and, finding his mouth wanted savor, reached to the sack beside him for a strip of dried meat to gnaw...

Outside, a thin, high voice came in: "Recorder Liu, our old patriarch is asking for you."

"Old patriarch" was what the eunuchs all called Eunuch She.

Chen Dasheng thought nothing of it. He tucked the strip of meat into his breast, took up his great cloak, and went out.

There were, in this world, a few who were truly good to him. And Eunuch She, to Chen Dasheng, was like a loving elder.

Even with the snow heavier now, Chen Dasheng didn't mind it, and hurried the whole way. Reaching Eunuch She's little courtyard in the palace, he was already sweating.

Going in, he saw Eunuch She sitting cross-legged before the Buddha-niche, earnestly copying a sutra.

Ever since Eunuch She's last kin in the world was gone, he'd been like this: copying sutras alone in his room every day, until he was tired enough to sleep.

Chen Dasheng bowed: "Patriarch, did you want me for something?"

Seeing him come, Eunuch She stopped his brush, pushed out a mat, and beckoned: "Scabby's come. Sit."

Chen Dasheng, at a loss, went over and sat.

Eunuch She said nothing. Seeing him seated, he went on writing, and only when he'd finished a page did he set down the brush, look it over himself, then turn and burn it before the niche.

From behind came Chen Dasheng's slow voice: "Your writing's very fine, Patriarch."

Eunuch She shook his head, and said, smiling: "Write enough and they all look so. They tell me, you went to Scholar's Lane today?"

Chen Dasheng started: "You've heard?"

Eunuch She nodded, smiling: "Prince Xing came into the palace to lay a complaint."

Chen Dasheng said nothing, only looked down at the tabletop.

"Rest easy! You're the Emperor's city-gate marquis. No one may insult you!"

Chen Dasheng started, and looked up sharply at Eunuch She. Wasn't he the Emperor's kin?

Eunuch She knew what was in his heart, but wouldn't explain. After all, live long enough in this palace and what's to be known is known in time. What your own eyes see, your own ears hear, cuts deeper than any hearsay.

A good while later, from behind him came Chen Dasheng's murmured thanks.

"Your servant thanks the Emperor's grace! Ten thousand years, ten thousand times ten thousand years!"

"Pft..."

Eunuch She couldn't help laughing again. He couldn't say why. Everything Chen Dasheng did seemed to him, truly, rather dear.

Laugh done, he turned and asked Chen Dasheng: "What did you make of today?"

Chen Dasheng scratched his head: "Make of it? Those scholars, you mean?"

Eunuch She nodded: "Mm! Though they're not scholars anymore, they're teachers now."

Chen Dasheng put his hands on his knees, and after a while patted them and said: "Nothing much. Only, those people, they've cost me all the respect I ever had for scholars..."

"Only that?"

"Mm! Just that."

Eunuch She put his hands behind his back and walked slowly to the door.

The two night-duty eunuchs hurried to lift the curtain and set a brazier nearby.

Eunuch She looked at the snow, and listened to the hiss of the flakes coming down, and after a long while said: "Long ago, our world had no writing. In those days, to keep a record, people knotted cords for counting, and drew their lives in totems on rock-faces. And so, handed down from age to age, the world came to have writing, and to have scholars..."

Chen Dasheng listened quietly.

"You must not take today's scholars for true scholars. They've grown crooked, like a great tree bent midway by wind and rain, that can never stand straight again. Do you follow me?"

"Mm! Not all scholars are good."

"Dasheng, study matters greatly. Without writing and learning, people could not inherit the knowledge of the sages before them. Without the Rites, perhaps we'd be living still in an age with no line drawn between man and beast. I read in my house's old books once: that in the far-off past, people of one surname married, coupled without a matchmaker, one wife to many husbands everywhere, and even brother and sister could be together... Think of it. Without the sages who came after, who set down knowledge and made the rules, a man would live no better than a beast..."

Eunuch She said a great long string of it, afraid Chen Dasheng might give up his books. And, saying it, he heard no sound behind him, and turned to look.

And at that look, he froze.

Chen Dasheng knelt there, a strip of dried meat cradled in his hands. How long, there was no telling.

As though he understood something. As though he'd been startled into it.

Eunuch She said, faltering: "Dasheng! You, what are you doing?"

Chen Dasheng lifted his face, smiling, all sincerity: "Will you, will you be my teacher? Will you teach me to read?"

Eunuch She's tears sprang at once. He said, laughing: "What nonsense are you thinking! Don't talk foolishness! Dasheng, do you know what I am?"

Chen Dasheng nodded: "I know! A teacher who'll teach me to read, and teach me to be a man."

At that Eunuch She's tears poured down: "You, your future is boundless. How can you take a mutilated man, a eunuch, for your master? Get up, get up now! Do you know how they'll look at you? Once I own you for a disciple, you'll never stand up all your life..."

He went to pull Chen Dasheng up, but Chen Dasheng didn't stir. Cradling the strip of meat, he said, loud: "Teacher's wrong to say so! What do you mean, own you and I'll never stand up? To my eyes, I, I'm not good with words, I don't know how to say it! But you, you, you're standing! The you before me, you're standing!"

That one line, you're standing, shattered She Qingling's shell utterly.

His lips worked, opening and closing, and he said to Chen Dasheng, trembling: "Yes... Dasheng, you see me standing?"

Chen Dasheng shuffled forward on his knees, and nodded in earnest: "Mm, standing! To my eyes, you stand straighter than anyone... You said it yourself just now: anyone at all may hold learning. Is a eunuch's learning dirty, then? It isn't so! To a coarse man like me, you are clean! Cleaner than most scholars in this world a hundredfold, a thousandfold, ten thousandfold..."

He rarely said such things. He only felt that today a strength unlike any other filled him. From the moment he'd cut off that hand, he'd known he was not the same.

He held the strip of meat high and said, loud: "Teacher, take me. I want to learn the way of standing up. I want to learn the true way of being a man. I want to be like a person, to read, to learn my figures, and then, like you, to live with dignity... I beg you! Teacher!"

Eunuch She stared at him, dumb, and after a long while shuffled up before Chen Dasheng, put out his hand, and gripped that strip of dried meat, hard.

On the Buddha-niche, the incense-ash slowly dropped from the burning stick...

Buddha's mercy...