The Imperial Tutor's Instructions - Chapter 12

It took several days for Song Nanqing to fully recover from his illness. The Emperor’s sickness had enraged the Regent, leaving everyone in the palace trembling with fear. Once recovered, Song Nanqing rewarded the servants who had attended to him and took care to comfort Chun Jian.

Song Nanqing sat at his desk reviewing memorials. He stretched his arms, the pale green robes embroidered with spring landscapes shimmering as the silver-threaded rivers caught the sunlight like flowing streams. As it was the season for lethargy, he yawned and asked Chun Jian, who was standing nearby, “Has there been any interesting news in the palace lately?”

Chun Jian, who was shelling lotus seeds, looked up and replied, “There is a rumor going around that several crows appeared out of nowhere at Minister Jia Liang’s residence. Since you fell ill right after visiting him, everyone is whispering that the Jia estate must be haunted by something unclean.”

“There is such a rumor?” Song Nanqing sat up, intrigued. He glanced at the lotus seeds in Chun Jian’s hands and asked in confusion, “Why are you shelling those? Who is going to eat them?”

Chun Jian placed the deseeded lotus seeds into a container. “The Regent ordered me to shell them, saying I should truly experience the bitter concern of worrying about what the ruler worries about and feeling the urgency of what the ruler feels.”

Song Nanqing said, “This is not your fault. Stop shelling them. You are my servant; what right does he have to punish you?”

Chun Jian immediately knelt on the floor, speaking with genuine sincerity, “It was my fault. If Your Majesty is harmed, it is because I did not fulfill my duty. According to the law, I should have been caned. It was only the Regent’s mercy that spared me from punishment.”

Song Nanqing’s gaze flickered. He asked, “Is it because you failed to stop me from eating too many cherry yogurts, or because you failed to stop me from eating at street stalls?”

Chun Jian shivered as he lowered his head, his voice trembling. “It is all my fault.”

“Chun Jian, you have been with me for a long time. I will ask you this today: do you take orders from the Regent, or from me?” Song Nanqing’s casual remark left Chun Jian’s back drenched in cold sweat.

Serving closely by the Emperor’s side was a position everyone envied, but risk and opportunity always walked hand in hand.

Chun Jian pressed his forehead to the floor and declared, “I naturally prioritize Your Majesty. However, when the Regent asked what Your Majesty had eaten that day, I was worried about your health and had to tell the truth. But regarding Your Majesty’s private affairs, I swear on my life that I have never disclosed a single word to anyone else.”

The hall fell silent, as if awaiting a verdict. Chun Jian held his breath, waiting. It felt like only a moment, yet also an eternity.

“Forget it. You are caught in the middle and it is difficult for you. Rise.” After a long while, Song Nanqing sighed.

It was because he was not yet powerful enough. Even he had to gauge Shen Heng’s reaction before doing things, let alone a humble servant like Chun Jian.

“Where is the Regent now?”

Chun Jian replied, “Lord Shen did not enter the palace today. I heard that the son of the Xi family is getting married, and I wonder if Lord Shen went to attend the wedding banquet.”

Song Nanqing popped a deseeded lotus seed into his mouth and asked, “Which Xi family son?”

“Xi Wukang’s eldest son, Xi Jian.”

“Is that the child prodigy who could compose poetry at the age of five?” Song Nanqing rubbed his chin after receiving confirmation. “When Teacher used to teach me to read, he would often mention him. I would like to see if this prodigy has actually lived up to his potential.”

In the river of memories during his upbringing, it seemed that no major point could avoid mentioning Shen Heng. But because of the incident with Chun Jian, mentioning Shen Heng at this moment felt rather subtle.

Looking at the beautiful spring scenery outside the window, Song Nanqing twisted his neck and said, “It is a joyous occasion, so we should go and join in the fun. Chun Jian, prepare the carriage.”

In the past, Chun Jian might have said that since the Emperor had just recovered from a major illness, he should not go out, especially since the Regent had ordered him not to indulge the Emperor’s whims.

But now, Chun Jian simply called for several guards to follow at a distance. He brought all necessary food and utensils, and even packed rain gear and warm clothing to prepare for the sudden spring showers.

Song Nanqing sat in the soft, airtight carriage. Upon opening the drawer, he found snacks already prepared and gave Chun Jian an approving look. He watched the shoulders of the youth who had accompanied him since his ascension, feeling as if they had grown broader.

If one has no reference point, the passage of time is easy to ignore. But if the people around you are growing while you remain stationary, it is easy to sense. Chun Jian sat to the side and told the coachman, “Take the western road, it is much smoother.”

In the Imperial Palace, no path is easy to navigate; one must be cautious at every step. Currently, the most noble people in the palace, besides the Emperor, were the Regent, and Chun Jian was the person who interacted with them the most.

Before, he felt that the Emperor was not yet grown, and the Regent was both the Imperial Tutor and held regency power. Although he was not significantly older, his status and power were there, and he had treated the Emperor as a caretaker since childhood. Therefore, when serving the Emperor, he would always consider the Regent’s thoughts and wishes, as children always sought the protection of adults.

But now it was different. As the Emperor grew, the needs of the Regent and the Emperor sometimes conflicted. Fulfilling one might offend the other, yet he could not afford to offend either. Balancing them was a complex art, and he could only strive for stability.

The rhythmic sound of hoofbeats rang out. He heard his Emperor call from inside the carriage, “Chun Jian! Have you tasted these snacks yourself? They are not sweet at all. Come in and try one for me!”

A green lotus-leaf cake flew out of the carriage. Chun Jian smiled as he caught it. “Your Majesty, your stomach has just recovered, so you cannot eat those. When you are fully well, I will bring you all sorts of different delicacies every day.”

Spring flowers were in full bloom. Through the carriage window, Song Nanqing saw the green leaves and branches growing steadily. Chun Jian held the lotus-leaf cake, blending perfectly with the lush spring scenery outside.

Speaking of green, he remembered those emerald earrings. They were intricately cut, smooth, and incredibly bright. He really wanted them.

Song Nanqing rubbed his fingers together and instructed Chun Jian to drive the carriage to the city’s most prosperous street of treasures.

After returning empty-handed from yet another jewelry store, Song Nanqing walked with his hands behind his back along the street. Further west, the shops mostly sold calligraphy and paintings. The stone-paved road was interesting to walk on, and Song Nanqing hopped along, lost in his fun. Without paying attention, a person stumbled down from a flight of steps and nearly collided with him.

“What is wrong with you? Are you blind?” Chun Jian stepped in front of Song Nanqing and scolded.

Before the man could speak, a tattered bundle was thrown down from the high steps, and a man who looked like an innkeeper stood at the door, looking down. “I am sorry, Young Master Ruan. My inn does not take in just anyone. You have owed half a month’s rent, and keeping you until today is already a great act of mercy.”

The man crawled up from the ground, brushed the dust off his clothes, and said, “Once I receive the silver from my copying work, I will certainly return to pay you. Thank you, shopkeeper.”

He picked up his bundle and strapped it to his back. Only then did Song Nanqing see his face.

It was the student who had been praised and invited to recite his essay during the lecture at Minister Jia Liang’s residence. His name was Ruan Xianzhi. Song Nanqing still remembered some of his insightful words.

He quietly followed Ruan Xianzhi along the road, but the man disappeared after entering a calligraphy and painting shop. Song Nanqing did not take it to heart. It was just a small detour, though he felt that life was not easy for someone with such talent.

It was a busy spring morning. The Fengqi Building, which was magnificent and bustling at night, was completely empty during the day. Song Nanqing was browsing books in a shop when he heard people nearby saying:

“It was not long ago. I heard an official from the palace was caught during an inspection. It is such a coincidence, isn’t it? Business at the Fengqi Building has not been as good as before.”

“Oh, I happened to see it that day. The door was opened wide. If I were him, I would never be able to hold my head up again, and he is a censor too.”

“You are a scholar, yet you go to such places?”

“Just passing through, just passing through. Shopkeeper, how much for this small goat-hair brush?”

Song Nanqing listened for a moment but did not take it to heart. He grabbed a few books and prepared to pay and leave. When the shopkeeper saw the books in his hands, a mysterious smile appeared on his lips. “Young master, the shop also has the new work by Teacher Lv Wu. The Romantic Censor and the Pretty Widow.”

He glanced left and right, then gestured as if sharing a secret. He thought his voice was low, but it was not. Everyone in the shop turned their eyes toward the youth who seemed to enjoy stories about romantic censors. The man who wanted to buy the brush showed a look of approval.

Song Nanqing felt like he was being pierced by stares. He could not find his voice, and feeling as though he were sitting on pins and needles, he moved quickly, trying to escape the room. In his panic, he rushed toward the back and pushed open a small door in the corner of the bookstore.

With a loud bang, the door slammed open, causing some high-stacked books to fall.

Chun Jian hurriedly followed, trying to push the door open, shouting, “Your Ma, I mean, Young Master, are you alright?”

After Song Nanqing pushed the door open and calmed down, he realized he had come out. In front of him was a deep alley. He could faintly hear the sounds from the bookstore, but they were muffled.

Chun Jian pulled on the door several times, only to find that it was locked from the inside. He anxiously wanted to find the guards, but the shopkeeper walked over calmly and said, “This door has an old problem. The lock is faulty and it won’t open. But do not worry, this leads to a back alley and you can walk right around.”

Chun Jian pressed a piece of silver into his hand and said, “Take me there quickly!”

The shopkeeper’s eyes widened. He nodded and led them away. “Do you still want the books? You young people are just thin-skinned and impatient.” As he stroked his beard and walked toward the alley, a blade was already at his throat. “Stop talking and lead the way.”

The shopkeeper raised his hands and led them out quickly.

Song Nanqing, unable to open the door, had no choice but to follow the alley out.

The buildings here were dense, and the alley twisted and turned. The grey-white walls all looked the same.

This was the first time he had truly been alone. There were no servants following him, no one else in his sight, only himself.

Walking along the alley, he passed a large willow tree. A few drops of water landed on his face. Looking up, he realized it was raining. Thin raindrops fell on his body, and the ground showed signs of moisture. He suddenly heard shouting and the sound of something falling to the ground.

Peeking out from the corner of a wall, Song Nanqing saw a shocking sight.

A group of men surrounded a young man. His tattered bundle had been shaken open, and his belongings were scattered on the ground. None of them were valuable, but they were being stepped on one by one, leaving behind indelible footprints and dirty marks.

“Ruan Xianzhi, aren’t you very talented? Didn’t your essays get praised by Minister Jia personally? Why can’t you get up? If you are capable, stand up and keep writing!” A tall man on the right kicked the man in the shoulder. Ruan Xianzhi, already nursing a bruised mouth, collapsed to the ground, unable to get up.

The rain grew heavier, and the wet ground, mixed with the dirt from the soles of their shoes, left clear marks on Ruan Xianzhi’s body.

“Do you think you can stay in the capital by copying books? Is there anyone else willing to pay to buy the books you copy?”

“I advise you to give up the idea of the imperial examination. Someone like you, how are you worthy of serving as an official with us in the future!”

Ruan Xianzhi glared at them angrily. “It is you! I was kicked out of the inn, and none of the calligraphy shops will let me in. It was you who caused trouble behind my back. How despicable and shameless!”

The surrounding men sneered and mocked him. “There is a world of difference between a chicken and a crane. We can make it impossible for you to survive with just a flick of our fingers. Do you understand now?”

“Brother Kai, if you ask me, we should just break his fingers so he cannot write any more essays, so Minister Jia won’t compare him to you again.”

Before he finished speaking, he received a blow to the head. “Watch what you say! Brother Kai just did not write seriously. Do not think everyone is as obsessed with showing off as he is!”

The spring rain dampened the white walls and soaked the ground. Song Nanqing and that group of men were under the eaves, but only Ruan Xianzhi was left completely exposed, drenched by the rain.

His dirty fingers curled on the ground. He was wounded, his clothes soaked, and blood was still flowing from his temple. Ruan Xianzhi could not open his eyes due to the rain. He heard someone say to him, “Sign this guarantee now, promising that you will never again harbor any delusions about the imperial examination, and we will spare your life. We will give you a hundred taels of silver to return to your little chicken coop.”

Song Nanqing clenched his fists, wanting to step forward to stop them, but he hesitated.

He was alone now, and he certainly could not beat those bullies. A gentleman should not stand in dangerous places.

Ruan Xianzhi laughed. He slowly raised his hand, took the paper, and tore it to shreds. He looked at them with bruised eyes and shouted, “Neither riches nor honors can corrupt, neither poverty nor humbleness can move, and neither threats nor force can subdue. This is called a great man! The imperial examination is meant to create good officials, to establish principles for heaven and earth, and to serve the people. You are not worthy.”

Song Nanqing held his breath.

The group was infuriated. The man called Brother Kai, who had his back turned to Song Nanqing, raised his foot. His mud-caked shoe began to slowly descend toward Ruan Xianzhi’s fingers.

His pale fingers were stained with blood. Ink from the shredded paper blended with the grime. Even his fingernails were filled with blood and mud. Hands that could write brilliant essays were now lying in a deep alley at the foot of the Imperial City, broken and stiff, unable to move, waiting for the blow.

“Stop!”

A voice interrupted the cruel act, breaking the unfair bullying.