The Imperial Tutor's Instructions - Chapter 9

After the morning court session, the officials in their official robes filed out. The high-ranking ministers led the way, while those with less power trailed behind. Once they crossed the Meridian Gate, the crowd of officials had mostly dispersed. Three men of middle age gathered together, conversing in hushed tones as they walked.

“We could not even weaken Jia Liang’s position slightly with such an affair. The Emperor is still partial to him after all,” remarked an official with a goatee.

“But the fact that Lord Chen was able to take the position proves that the one above is not without the desire for change.”

“The Emperor will come of age next year. Those who should be anxious are now beyond impatient. Even a powerful figure like General He has been schemed against by Jia Liang and his faction. It is even worse for us, who have no family background to rely on. If we let them isolate the Emperor, we will never have a chance to rise.”

Just as they were speaking, Chun Jian hurried over with a tray in hand. He smiled and said, “Censor Chen, the Emperor appreciates your courage in speaking the truth. He bestows upon you a set of wolf hair brushes and an inkstone, hoping that even after taking charge of the Censorate, you will remember today’s courage and remain the voice that keeps the officials in check.”

Chen Liwen was stunned before kneeling to thank the Emperor. The two men behind him remained silent, but their inner thoughts were clear.

Since Song Nanqing had rewarded Chen Liwen for impeaching Jia Liang, he could not afford not to appease Jia Liang. It was a rest day, and the imperial carriage drove out of the palace toward the Jia estate in the northeast corner of the capital.

Similar to the elegant and secluded residence of Shen Heng, the Jia estate was not located in a bustling area. However, the residence was massive. It had been expanded during the previous reign when the favored Imperial Concubine Jia lived there, and the late Emperor had granted the neighboring mansion to the family.

Song Nanqing stepped off the carriage onto the wooden footstool and faced two massive stone lions at the gate, radiating an imposing aura. The moment they stopped, the butler and servants hurried over to inquire about their business. Upon seeing the imperial token in Chun Jian’s hand, the butler scrambled to kneel and kowtow.

Song Nanqing waved a hand. “I am here to visit my uncle. Do not worry about such hollow formalities.”

He stepped into the estate first, followed by imposing guards. He walked with a light, confident stride, the blue ribbon tied in his hair fluttering in the air. The golden, noble youth brought only a few attendants and wore no gaudy gold or silver; he lacked the massive, bustling entourage typical of an Emperor’s travel. Yet, this simple bearing made no one dare to show the slightest disrespect. The servants were still stunned by the unexpected imperial visit until the butler rebuked them: “What are you standing there for? Go inform the Master!”

The entrance featured a large rockery surrounded by trees, the air fresh and crisp. Song Nanqing did not wait for his guide, wandering freely. As he passed a study, he heard the sound of a lecture from within.

“Cultivate virtue to bring harmony to the nine clans. This is the essay topic from the last lesson. Ruan Xianzhi’s answer was excellent; come up and read it to them.” Jia Liang stroked his beard as he spoke from the podium.

Looking through the window, Song Nanqing saw a young man in simple clothing walk up to read his essay. He spoke eloquently on how the moral cultivation of an Emperor influences national governance and social order. Song Nanqing was so captivated he felt he had gained much.

Clad in humble cloth with only a scroll of rice paper, the young man spoke not with grandiose rhetoric, but with the passionate ambition that only through self-discipline and character could one rule the country and bring peace to the world.

While he was listening, Jia Liang’s butler arrived. Song Nanqing did not want to disturb the class, so he moved to another location before asking, “Is my uncle giving lessons?”

The butler bowed. “Yes. With the examinations approaching, the Master holds a school at home to tutor students who cannot attend the Imperial Academy, fulfilling the wishes of these aspiring scholars.”

As they spoke, Jia Liang arrived and bowed. Song Nanqing helped him up. “Uncle, no need for formalities. I was just passing by and decided to take a look.”

Jia Liang chided the butler: “Why didn’t you invite His Majesty to sit inside? What is it like to leave him out here under the sun?”

Song Nanqing did not comment, allowing himself to be led to the main hall. The decoration of the Jia estate was understated, lacking any sense of opulence, and the ornaments were not expensive. He took a sip of tea, frowning slightly. “Is this last year’s tea, Uncle?”

Jia Liang set down his cup. “I ordered them to bring the most precious tea because you were coming. I forgot about the vintage; it is my negligence. Butler, go change a cup for His Majesty.”

Song Nanqing said it was unnecessary. As he observed the furnishings, he asked casually, “Where is Shikai? Why haven’t I seen him?”

Jia Liang pondered. “Ever since I heard Censor Chen’s words, I reflected on my lax discipline. Shikai lost his mother young, and I could not bear to be strict, leading him to make many mistakes. He was punished with thirty strokes of the paddle and is still kneeling in the ancestral hall. With his injuries, I feared he might offend you, so I did not bring him.”

Song Nanqing touched the rough white porcelain cup, his doubts not fully eased. Since the arrest of Wang Qian, he had uncovered evidence of trafficking war prisoners for profit; there were certainly more secrets hidden beneath the surface. Yet, the estate seemed incredibly frugal, not at all like the home of someone mired in corruption. Could Wang Qian’s actions truly have been his own, leaving Jia Liang untainted?

“Let him rest well. He can pay his respects when he recovers; I was not truly angry with him,” Song Nanqing said earnestly. “After my mother passed, you are my only kin. Shikai is as well; why would I hold a grudge because of what others said?”

“I wanted to protect you at court that day, but the Prince Regent spoke first. I dared not defy him,” Song Nanqing said sincerely, his fingers stroking the rim of the cup.

Jia Liang was also observing him, as if calculating something.

When noon arrived, the butler came to ask about the meal, whispering a few words into Jia Liang’s ear.

Jia Liang frowned slightly: “Tell her to eat on her own. Say I have a distinguished guest.”

The round table was set with four meat and four vegetable dishes. Jia Liang lowered his head: “I did not expect His Majesty to come, so we made the usual home-cooked food.”

Song Nanqing glanced at the dishes and smiled easily. “I am tired of the palace cuisine; I was just thinking of tasting some ordinary fare.” Outside the window, the shadows of the guards stood watch, and Chun Jian was at the door. Moreover, this was the Jia estate; surely Jia Liang would not dare to poison the food.

He picked up his chopsticks, but seeing nothing he wished to eat, he paused. It was this pause that made him notice the difference in the chopsticks. They looked like common wooden ones, but they had a different weight. The patterns were not carved but were the natural grain of rare snake-wood, and the silver inlay at the ends was intricately detailed.

Song Nanqing gave nothing away, but he had already taken in the entirety of the tableware on the table. He dug into the cherry cheese with a spoon—that was the only edible dish. Everything else he did not even care to taste. The meal lacked variety, and the presentation was poor compared to the palace’s exquisite dishes. He suspected Jia Liang was merely putting on a show of frugality.

“I heard that at General He’s victory banquet, His Majesty had an extra serving of honey-glazed cherries, but the Prince Regent wouldn’t allow it,” Jia Liang mentioned the cherries casually.

Song Nanqing nodded, thinking it was because of his toothache; Shen Heng had been concerned for him.

“Our ancestors had a rule about not eating more than three bites of any dish, but the Prince Regent is sometimes too rigid and inflexible. That is not a good thing for Your Majesty.”

Song Nanqing blinked, his gaze flickering. “But Master Shen was appointed by the late Emperor to assist in the governance. I dare not defy him. Besides, he controls the Imperial Guard and has ties to the Khorchin tribe in the north. Even if he is rigid, as a student, I dare not speak out and cause his displeasure.”

Song Nanqing’s eyelashes fluttered. His timid, subservient expression perfectly embodied a teenage Emperor without protection, afraid of everything.

Seeing this, Jia Liang changed his tone from that of a subordinate to that of an uncle. “Your Majesty will soon come of age. It is not sustainable to remain under the thumb of the Prince Regent forever. You need someone in the court to help you.”

Song Nanqing looked up, as if finding a savior in Jia Liang. “I hope Uncle will provide some guidance.”

Jia Liang put down his chopsticks. “Wang Qian was arrested, and the new Censor has taken his seat. In my view, he is not a man of peace. We old ministers can still help you, but if we are all impeached, you will have no one on your side. Then, the court will become the Prince Regent’s own domain.”

Song Nanqing nodded. “But Wang Qian committed a crime; there is no way for him to be reinstated.”

“Does Your Majesty know what crime Wang Qian committed, to be held in prison for so long without being charged?” Jia Liang probed.

Song Nanqing looked at him, puzzled. “Isn’t it just bribery? But the Grand Justice is in poor health. The Prince Regent told me he was harmed by an enemy and is bedridden, so Wang Qian’s case has been delayed. Do you see a problem, Uncle?”

Jia Liang’s previously tense posture relaxed. He ladled a bowl of soup for Song Nanqing. “Nothing. Your Majesty must be careful in the palace from now on; otherwise, one never knows who might be the target of such dark schemes.”

Song Nanqing looked surprised. “Why does Uncle say this?”

Seeing that Song Nanqing could not grasp his implication, Jia Liang sighed irritably. “The palace is filled with treacherous people. If the Prince Regent does anything in the future, remember to tell your uncle. I will help Your Majesty weigh the pros and cons.”

Song Nanqing nodded quickly, holding his spoon. “I want to have another serving of cheese. Uncle, do you have any left?”

Jia Liang glanced at him, shook his head inwardly, and said, “Yes, Your Majesty, please wait a moment.”

Once Jia Liang left, Song Nanqing held his spoon up to the light, seeing the distinct tortoiseshell pattern in the reflection. He pondered: The visit was abrupt, but it seems the Jia estate switched to these mundane wooden utensils just to save appearances. Little did they know, even these mundane items are quite valuable.

“I was wandering earlier and passed that locked door. Do you know what that place is?” Song Nanqing asked a servant.

Seeing it was the Emperor asking, the servant replied hurriedly, “I heard it was the quarters of the young lady of the house. It has been locked for a long time.”

“I never heard that Uncle had a daughter?” As soon as the words left his mouth, Jia Liang returned. Hearing the exchange, he gave the servant a cold look and smiled, trying to dismiss it.

Song Nanqing asked first: “My mother used to live here. May I visit her quarters? She visited me in a dream last night, saying that Uncle took good care of her, so I came today to fulfill her wish.”

Something in those words touched Jia Liang; his expression shifted, and he led the way.

“A servant was clumsy and broke the Imperial Concubine’s vase. To preserve the appearance of her boudoir, I had it sealed. No one has entered since.” Jia Liang had someone open the door. “So, there may be some dust.”

As the doors swung open, the first rays of sunlight pierced the small room, dust motes dancing in the light. Song Nanqing sneezed violently.

“I will go in alone; you need not follow.” Song Nanqing looked at the old relics belonging to his mother, a sudden pang hitting his heart.

“Father, the Emperor is at the estate. Should I go and plead for mercy? That Censor is truly hateful to impeach me. If I enter the court in the future, what will I do if the Emperor has a bad impression of me?” Jia Shikai paced around, circling Jia Liang anxiously.

Jia Liang sipped his superior Bi Luo Chun tea; the tea soup was clear and fragrant. His mustache, dampened by the tea, twitched. “I told the Emperor you were punished with the paddle and were kneeling in the ancestral hall. Do not show yourself to him.”

“Father, you have a way!”

Jia Liang pondered. “I am the Emperor’s own maternal uncle, and you are like his own kin. What is there to fear? If he wants to sit securely on the throne in the future, he must rely on us.”

Jia Shikai sat down. “But I fear that with too many impeachments, His Majesty will alienate us.”

Jia Liang thought about Song Nanqing’s performance today and chuckled. “Shen Heng likely hasn’t taught him the way of a ruler properly. My son, rest easy. With me here, I will ensure you rise to greatness.”