Chapter Eleven: Borrowed Power

Money truly opens all doors. When Wang Ke’s father learned that his son had been thrown into jail, he immediately brought a thousand taels of silver to ransom him out.

Wang Ke’s crime could be seen as minor or severe. At its lightest, it was merely a failed attempt at harassment and a private quarrel—hardly worth mentioning. After accepting the thousand taels, the county magistrate simply admonished, “You must behave yourself from now on, and refrain from further trouble,” and released him.

Once they left, the magistrate was filled with secret delight, stroking the pure, gleaming silver with satisfaction. He thought, “The Wang family truly knows how to handle things.” It was a pity, though, that today he had misjudged the prefect’s intentions and ended up in an awkward situation. Still, looking at the silver, his gloomy mood vanished.

The magistrate’s spirits lifted, but Wang Ke’s father, Wang Daoming, wore a face as dark as thunder.

Wang Ke was no better, his eyes filled with malice. Inwardly, he vowed, “I’ll make that man pay. He’ll come to know what it means to cross me!”

They returned to the Wang residence and entered one of the finest guest rooms.

Wang Daoming turned to Wang Ke and asked, “Do you seek revenge?”

“I do!” Wang Ke replied coldly, his face twisted with hatred. “He humiliated me so thoroughly—how could I possibly let him go? I won’t rest until he’s been taught a lesson!”

Wang Daoming raised his hand high, as if to strike Wang Ke.

Wang Ke, to his credit, stood his ground. Perhaps he knew his father would not actually hit him, and so he stared back, eyes wide.

At last, Daoming lowered his hand and rebuked, “How can you be so disappointing? Do you realize the trouble you’ve caused me? Do you even know who you offended today?”

Wang Ke said, “He’s just a scholar candidate, nothing more. He has no status—what’s so remarkable about him?”

Wang Daoming replied, “Before today, perhaps he was a mere candidate. But just now, the prefect has taken him in as a personal student!”

Boom! Wang Ke felt as if thunder had exploded in his ears; his body swayed and he nearly collapsed, his face ashen. “Impossible! What right does he have to be chosen by the prefect?”

Wang Daoming’s tone was icy. “Naturally, only one with true talent would gain the prefect’s favor. Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve brought me? If he becomes an official one day, our family will be in real danger. I spent a fortune smoothing things over, yet you’ve gone and made a colossal mess!”

Smack!

Growing angrier as he spoke, Wang Daoming could no longer restrain himself and slapped Wang Ke hard across the face, roaring, “Never mind the future—even now, with his status as the prefect’s student, he could cause us plenty of difficulties! You wretched boy! You’ll be the death of me!”

Wang Ke clutched his cheek, aggrieved. “How was I to know he had such talent and prospects?”

Wang Daoming’s face was stern as he sat, brooding over how to handle the situation. After a moment, he sighed. “Until after the autumn examinations, you are not to step outside this room. If I find you sneaking out, I’ll break your legs myself!”

With that, he stood and left.

“Father! Where are you going?” Wang Ke called after him.

“I’m going to Liu Ping’s home to apologize!” Wang Daoming replied without turning back.

※※※※※※

After composing the poem “A Journey in the Mountains,” Liu Ping had won the prefect’s favor.

The prefect regarded Liu Ping, thinking to himself that here was a young man of both literary and martial excellence—a rare talent indeed.

He expressed his wish to accept Liu Ping as a student.

Liu Ping, without hesitation, bowed and became a disciple of Prefect Lü Ru.

Upon learning that Liu Ping was not yet fourteen, the prefect said, “Then you haven’t taken a courtesy name yet? Once the autumn exams are over and you become a licentiate, you’ll need one. I’ll give you one… hmm, let’s call you ‘Fengchang.’ How does that sound?”

A teacher is like a father, and a prefect as a teacher is all the more so; it was only fitting, and showed the prefect’s high regard. Liu Ping quickly replied, “Yes! Thank you, Teacher!”

After some final words of encouragement, the prefect took his leave.

Liu Ping wished to visit Bai Zhi, but suddenly realized he had not asked for her address. He supposed she was like a fox spirit, elusive in her den, and let it go—there would be time to meet again.

Thereafter, Liu Ping resigned from his copying work at the Wang residence.

Wang Hong tried to persuade him to stay, but Liu Ping, wary of causing trouble between the Wang families of Qinxin County and the neighboring county, insisted on leaving. He already possessed a wealth of knowledge, and with time to digest it, passing the licentiate exam would be no problem.

What he did not expect was that this decision led Wang Daoming to misunderstand, thinking Liu Ping bore him a grudge. Terrified, Daoming came personally to the Liu home to offer penance.

He arrived with ten bolts of fine silk, a thousand taels of pure silver, several sets of exquisite porcelain, and the best pens, ink, paper, and inkstones—an extravagant display indeed.

Liu’s father, bewildered, refused to accept such gifts and nearly made Daoming kneel in apology.

At this moment, Liu Ping came out, and, hearing Daoming’s words, quickly understood what had happened. Amused, he said, “I bear no grudge. I simply didn’t want to cause friction between your family and mine, so I resigned.”

“Of course there’s no ill will! The fault was entirely ours. We only beg you not to hold it against us,” Daoming said, greatly relieved by Liu Ping’s words.

Liu Ping looked at the generous gifts and the respectful attitude before him, feeling a surge of emotion. This, surely, was the power of borrowing a tiger’s authority. After a moment’s thought, he said, “Very well, I’ll accept these, and you may go.”

Liu’s father did not object, unable to grasp the situation—his son seemed to have suddenly gained great stature, but how? Even passing the provincial exam would not warrant such treatment, and Liu Ping was only a scholar candidate.

After Daoming and his attendants departed, Liu’s father, mother, and sister Liu Yue all gathered around him.

“Ping’er, what happened? Who was that man, and why did he come to apologize?” his father asked anxiously.

Just then, someone knocked at the door, calling, “Zhushan, I’ve arrived! Open up, quickly!”

Liu’s father went to open the door; it was Scholar Bai, smiling broadly. “Zhushan, congratulations! You truly have a remarkable son!”

Liu’s father, still bewildered, asked, “What on earth has happened?”

Scholar Bai was surprised. “You don’t know?”

“Of course I don’t! Tell me quickly!” Liu’s father urged, his heart scratching with curiosity.

Scholar Bai was speechless—how could Liu Ping keep such an important matter from his own father, leaving it to an outsider to explain?

He then recounted the whole story.

“That’s what happened?!”

Both Liu’s father and mother stared at Liu Ping in amazement. “Why didn’t you tell us? You’ve been accepted as the prefect’s student? We thought you’d botched things with the Wang family and come home in disgrace! You rascal! How could you keep such news from us?”

Liu Ping chuckled awkwardly, unsure what to say. Though it was good news, the pressure weighed on him, and he had withheld it instinctively—his cheerful parents could not guess at his worries.

“This calls for a celebration!” Liu’s father seemed ten years younger, delighted as he pulled Scholar Bai into the house. “It’s been so long—we must have a good drink together!”

“Absolutely!” Scholar Bai laughed.

A feast was soon laid out.

Seated at the table, Liu’s father asked, “What did my son do to earn the prefect’s favor?”

Scholar Bai replied, “The prefect gave a topic about maple leaves. In three steps, your son recited, ‘Rain falls, the pine stays green; frost dyes the maple red. The wind stirs the white clouds, sending gentle feelings a thousand miles.’”

Liu’s father repeated the lines, frowning slightly. “It’s a good poem, but is there some special merit I’m missing?”

“Not at all…” Scholar Bai smiled. “Then, after two more steps, your son recited again, ‘The winding stone path climbs the cold mountain; deep in the white clouds, there are homes. I stop my carriage, loving the maple grove at dusk—frosted leaves are redder than the flowers of spring.’”

Liu’s father read it twice, then, unable to resist, dipped his finger in wine and wrote the lines on the table. “Marvelous! Marvelous indeed!”

Scholar Bai said, “Two poems in five steps—your son’s talent moved even the prefect. If I compare him to my own son, I can only sigh in envy!”

Liu Ping felt a bit embarrassed by their praise, knowing full well both poems were merely borrowed.

Meanwhile, Liu’s mother and Liu Yue listened with delight, especially Liu Yue, whose face glowed with joy.

“By the way, Liu Ping, what is the name of the girl you protected? Where is she from? If you like her, I’ll act as your matchmaker tomorrow!” Scholar Bai suddenly interjected. “She’s truly a beauty—if you delay, someone else will surely snatch her away.”

Liu’s father nodded in agreement. “Whose daughter is she? If you like her and her family is respectable, you should marry her. You’re nearly of age to wed, and I’d love to have a grandson soon!”

At these words, Liu Yue’s smile instantly froze, her face growing tense. She furtively glanced at her brother, her heart filled with strange emotions.

Liu Ping gave a wry smile. “I don’t even know her name—we met only once. Speaking of marriage is rather excessive, isn’t it? I helped her not out of affection, but out of a sense of justice.”

He did not notice how Liu Yue’s gloom melted away, replaced by a bright smile. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief, though a faint worry crept in—her brother was becoming more outstanding, and surely more people would come to admire him. Perhaps, one day, her parents would arrange a match for her as well. What would she do then? Torn between emotions, Liu Yue fell into silent confusion.

Liu Ping, oblivious to his sister’s shifting mood, wore a mask of ease while feeling great pressure inside. If he failed to pass the licentiate exam, this golden opportunity would vanish forever.

He threw himself into study at home, maintaining his daily cultivation; the days slipped by, and at last, the autumn examination drew near.

In this world, the autumn examination—also called the Prefectural Exam—was held once every three years in Shanghe Prefecture. With five days remaining, Liu Ping was about to set out—if anything, a bit late.

Worried that her son might not take care of himself alone, Liu’s mother arranged for Liu Yue to accompany him.

Liu Yue readily agreed.

Liu’s father failed to see his daughter’s feelings, but the perceptive mother could not miss them. She chose to go along with the flow—how far things went would depend on Liu Yue herself.

——————

Ps: I just noticed our ranking in the New Talent Contest slipped from first to second. Someone’s been gaming the system! Everyone, let’s rally and reclaim the top spot! I’m aiming to break onto the homepage’s new-book list this week—currently ranked thirty-first, just nineteen spots to go! Let’s charge ahead!