Chapter Twenty-Eight: Kong Rong Offers the Pear (Part Two)

Zheng Hongyi was always content as long as there was a story to hear and had no particular demands. Xu Shiji, however, had already heard the tale of the Three Heroes Fighting Lü Bu. Although Yan Qing recounted it with great flair, he did not listen as attentively as Zheng Hongyi.

Leaning against the writing desk, Xu Shiji casually picked up a manuscript from the table. After flipping through a couple of pages, his eyes lit up.

Xu Shiji had learned to read before coming to Luoyang. In terms of foundation, he was far ahead of Zheng Hongyi. Though nominally a companion in study, Master Yan held great hopes for Xu Shiji’s abilities, and in private, taught him various other subjects, unlike Zheng Hongyi, who was still on the basics of the Cangjie Primer.

On the cover of the manuscript, Xu Shiji recognized the distinctive “Ode to the Goose” script: “Romance of the Three Kingdoms.”

The master had recently been engrossed in the Three Kingdoms—so why was Yan Qing also writing about it?

Neither Yan Qing nor Master Yan had told anyone about their wager. Yan Qing simply didn’t want to, and Master Yan dared not. If Yan Qing were already a renowned scholar, Master Yan would have boasted of their bet to others. But as Yan Qing was merely a young servant, and so young at that, even if Master Yan was sure of victory, spreading word of a wager with such a person would hardly be to his credit.

Thus, Xu Shiji only knew that Master Yan was engrossed in the Three Kingdoms, but not the real reason.

Meanwhile, Yan Qing was relaying the story with great animation, and Zheng Hongyi listened with rapt attention, frequently exclaiming his admiration.

Xu Shiji, however, sat aside, reading “Romance of the Three Kingdoms.”

Only the first chapter, written by Yan Qing, lay on the table—that of the Yellow Turban Rebellion, the gathering of heroes, the Oath of Brotherhood in the Peach Orchard, and Emperor Huangfu Song’s fiery assault on Changshe. Xu Shiji already knew these tales, but seeing Yan Qing render them into words gave them a new flavor. Yan Qing even analyzed the details of the burning of Changshe, supplementing them with military tactics.

The strategies were simple, yet the burning of Changshe was, in later generations, a classic case study in fire attacks when interpreting Sunzi’s Art of War.

After reading, Xu Shiji couldn’t help but glance over at Yan Qing.

Had he already begun to study military strategy?

When Yan Qing had failed to become Master Yan’s disciple, Xu Shiji had felt a bit smug. “So what if you can write ‘Ode to the Goose’? So what if you have your own calligraphy? I have the guidance of a renowned teacher, while you are just a beginner in the study hall. Someday, I will surpass you!”

Yet now he realized that Yan Qing seemed already beyond his reach.

He was progressing, but Yan Qing seemed to progress even faster. Xu Shiji had only begun to study the Classic of Filial Piety and the rites and music, while Yan Qing had already set foot into the art of war.

Most daunting of all, Yan Qing was even younger than he!

For a moment, an inexplicable sense of dread arose in Xu Shiji’s heart.

Would I never be his equal for my whole life? Lost in thought, he failed to notice what was happening around him or when Yan Qing finished his story.

Zheng Hongyi called out, “Brother Shiji, Brother Shiji!”

“Ah? What is it?”

“What happened to you just now?”

“I…” Xu Shiji set down the manuscript, glanced at Yan Qing with a complicated expression, then forced a bitter smile. “It’s nothing.”

“Then why did your face go from red to pale? Are you unwell?”

“No, I’m not unwell!” After speaking, Xu Shiji stood, “Yan Qing, are you thirsty? I’ll go wash some fruit.”

Yan Qing smiled and pointed to the fruit tray by the desk, “Grandfather was afraid I’d grow thirsty while reading, so he prepared some here.”

The tray was filled with wild cherries.

Cherries are called “the first fruit of spring,” the earliest among all fruits and perfectly in season. When the estate’s hunters ventured into the mountains, they would bring back wild cherries for Zheng Shi’an. Zheng Shi’an, unwilling to eat them himself, reserved all for Yan Qing.

Xu Shiji washed a plate of cherries, and Zheng Hongyi cheered, rushing over to grab one.

Yan Qing frowned slightly. After Hongyi took one, he and Xu Shiji each picked one, and Yan Qing smiled, “Young Master, would you like to hear another story?”

“Yes!” Zheng Hongyi answered without hesitation, instantly sitting down, gazing at Yan Qing expectantly.

“The hero of this story is also a renowned scholar of the Three Kingdoms era, named Kong Rong.”

Yan Qing began, slowly recounting the tale of Kong Rong yielding the bigger pears.

“Young Master, this Kong Rong later became a celebrated scholar. Would you like to grow up to be like him?”

The story of Kong Rong yielding the pears had already spread by this era, but Zheng Hongyi was still too young to have learned it, so he wasn’t familiar.

Xu Shiji had heard it before. He looked at Yan Qing, then at the thoughtful Zheng Hongyi, and a strange idea occurred to him.

What if he became the teacher for both me and Hongyi? What would that be like?

But the thought vanished as quickly as it came. Xu Shiji found himself ridiculous—this fellow was even younger than himself…

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By the time Xu Shiji and Zheng Hongyi returned home, night had already fallen.

“Young masters, where have you been? Madam has been worried sick.”

Cui Daolin hurried out to greet them, helping Zheng Hongyi down from the carriage as he spoke. His intentions were kind, but in Zheng Hongyi’s ears, the words sounded otherwise. Hongyi had already gathered that Yan Qing had gone to the estate because of Cui Daolin. Damn it, because of you, I couldn’t hear the rest of the story!

One afternoon was enough to make Zheng Hongyi a devoted fan of Yan Qing.

Before Cui Daolin finished, Zheng Hongyi coldly snapped, “Do I have to report to you wherever I go? Who is the young master here, you or me?”

“Ah…” Cui Daolin’s thin face flushed red. He opened his mouth but was at a loss for words. He glanced at Xu Shiji, wondering, What’s gotten into the young master? Is he upset? Why is he so angry?

Xu Shiji of course knew the reason, and he hadn’t exactly helped matters himself.

He said nothing and followed Zheng Hongyi into the Zheng family’s main hall. There sat Zheng Renji, Madam Cui, and even Master Yan, who rarely graced the main hall, chatting while enjoying the fresh wild cherries just delivered from the estate.

“Elder brother, you seem troubled,” one of them remarked.

Zheng Renji forced a smile. “Before I came to Luoyang, the Minister asked me to find someone here. All these days have passed, and I have no clue at all. The Heluo region is vast, its people countless—how could it be easy to find someone?”

“Who is the Minister searching for?”

“That ‘Goose Master’…”

At the mention, Master Yan’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Could it be the one who wrote the ‘Ode to the Goose’ at the inn in Yanshi?”

“Who else could it be?” Zheng Renji sighed. “Strange, though—after appearing in Yanshi, that Goose Master vanished without a trace, as if he’d never existed. I’ve visited every scholar in Luoyang, yet whenever I ask, they ask me in return… My friend, the Minister has always supported me. If I can’t handle even this small favor, I fear he’ll be displeased.”

Master Yan replied, “A man of talent walks alone, beyond the reach of common guesswork.”

Madam Cui interjected, “Perhaps the Goose Master is a common man who’s gone into hiding?”

“Nonsense!” Zheng Renji snapped. “You don’t know how remarkable that Goose Master is. They say he’s very young, yet created his own calligraphic style, causing a sensation in Chang’an and Luoyang, with everyone eager to imitate. The Minister can’t praise him enough; even the Crown Prince is said to love his work, and sent the palace guards to Yanshi to take rubbings of the original.”

Madam Cui pursed her lips and said nothing more.

At that moment, Zheng Hongyi entered the hall and greeted the elders and Master Yan.

“Come here, Hongyi…” Though not Madam Cui’s own son, she treated Zheng Hongyi as dearly as if he were. “The estate sent fresh wild cherries. I remember you love them, so I saved a plate for you.”

With a clap, Madam Cui signaled a servant to bring a plate of wild cherries to Zheng Hongyi.

Zheng Hongyi’s face lit up with delight. He picked up a sprig of cherries and was about to eat when he stopped. Carefully plucking the cherries from the stem, he carried the jade plate to Zheng Renji, bowing respectfully, “Father, please have some first.”

Zheng Renji was taken aback but picked up a cherry by reflex.

Then Zheng Hongyi turned to Madam Cui, “Mother, please have some first.”

Madam Cui beamed, her face as radiant as a flower, nodding repeatedly, “Good boy, Hongyi. So young and already so considerate—you’re sure to be someone great in the future.”

“Please, Master, have some too.”

Zheng Hongyi then presented the plate respectfully to Master Yan.

Master Yan’s eyes crinkled in delight. “No wonder the Zhengs of Xingyang have prospered for three centuries. With such a family ethos, how could there not be success?”

Zheng Renji’s heart swelled with joy.

His usually willful son was suddenly so polite, understanding the importance of putting others first—how could he not be pleased?

“All thanks to your teaching, my friend!”

Master Yan shook his head. “Elder brother, I can’t accept such praise. I merely taught him to read. Such noble conduct is beyond me; I dare not claim credit.”

“Oh?” Zheng Renji thought Master Yan was just being modest, and was about to speak when Zheng Hongyi piped up, “It was Brother Yan Qing who taught me.”

“Brother Yan Qing?”

“The steward Zheng’s grandson!”

Madam Cui snapped, “Hongyi, did you go to the estate this afternoon?”

She turned to Zheng Renji, “Husband, that lowborn child is too much—how dare he have Hongyi call him brother? Such disregard for rank—if word gets out, our family’s three centuries of reputation could be ruined!”

Zheng Renji’s face darkened.

Yan Qing?

Master Yan suddenly asked, “Hongyi, how did Yan Qing teach you?”

Frightened by Madam Cui’s tone, but reassured by the teacher’s gentle question, Zheng Hongyi answered softly, “Yan Qing… Yan Qing told me the story of Kong Rong yielding the pears. Kong Rong was a great man. He told me to learn from Master Kong Rong and become someone truly worthy in the future.”

“Ha, this Yan Qing is an interesting fellow,” Master Yan mused, then asked, “And you—do you want to become such a worthy person?”

“I do. So I’ll start by yielding the pears, and someday I’ll be as virtuous as Kong Rong.”

Zheng Hongyi’s words slowly eased the gloom on Zheng Renji’s face.

Yan Qing might not observe the proper ranks, but he had done some good…

“Wife, since Yan Qing meant well, let’s overlook it this time,” Zheng Renji said gently, then raised his voice, “But from now on, Hongyi shouldn’t go to the estate. Study hard at home, and you’ll achieve great things.”

Though Madam Cui was displeased, she could not object once Zheng Renji had spoken.

Her gaze drifted unconsciously toward the doorway, where Cui Daolin stood with head bowed, uncertain if he had heard their conversation.

No, that servant had gone too far—he must be given a lesson, so he would understand the meaning of rank and propriety!

With this thought, Madam Cui made up her mind.