Chapter 323: The Fall of Ganzhou

While students from all over were rushing to Guangzhou for the examinations, the city of Ganzhou was already shrouded in gloom and despair.

Zhang Guowei, Governor of Southern Gan, carried on Yuan Chonghuan's unfinished will and defended the city with all his might, yet he keenly felt the situation growing ever more difficult.

Ever since Zhu Dadian's defeat, the Xia army's morale had soared, and their attempts to persuade Ganzhou to surrender—through leaflets, shouted appeals, and other means—had never ceased.

Through threats and bribes, nearly every trick had been tried, and the morale of Ganzhou's defenders had long since been riddled with holes.

Now Zhang Guowei dared not even set foot on the city walls unless absolutely necessary, for fear that the defending soldiers might bind him up and toss him straight over the walls.

On the other side, there was still no word from the court's relief forces, the post of Governor-General of Jiangxi remained vacant, and holding out to the death offered no glimpse of hope.

The rift between the Zhejiang troops and the Gan troops was also deepening by the day. While guarding against the Xia army outside the walls, Zhang Guowei also had to guard against the Zhejiang troops within—he felt utterly drained in both mind and body.

The twenty-first day of the second month in the second year of Zhongxuan, deep in the night.

In the main hall of the Southern Gan Governor's official residence, Zhang Guowei was mulling over his wording, composing an urgent memorial to the capital. The memorial could not be written too miserably, lest it be seized by the Xia army and turned into another weapon for urging surrender; nor could it be written too lightly, or it would fail to draw the court's attention.

Caught between these two difficulties, he polished his phrases with the feeling of performing a Buddhist rite inside a snail shell—the very sensation of writing an eight-legged essay.

Just as he crumpled yet another draft, the gatekeeper suddenly announced: "Master, General Yang and Commander Yao request an audience."

These two were respectively the Assistant Regional Commander of Southern Gan and the Guard Commander of the Ganzhou Guard—the very core of Ganzhou's defense. A visit at this deep hour could only mean grave matters.

Zhang Guowei set aside his memorial and said: "Show them in quickly!"

The gatekeeper acknowledged and started out, but Zhang Guowei called him back: "Wait."

"Master." The gatekeeper halted outside the door.

Zhang Guowei hesitated, then asked: "Those two—how many men did they bring, and are they wearing armor?"

A flicker of surprise crossed the gatekeeper's face, then he lowered his head and said: "They brought a dozen or so personal attendants, all bearing weapons and armor."

Zhang Guowei said: "Very well, go bring them in."

As the gatekeeper withdrew, Zhang Guowei had his steward rouse the household guards and station them around the main hall.

Before long, Yang and Yao entered. They left their weapons and attendants at the gatehouse and came in alone, which put Zhang Guowei somewhat at ease.

"Your Excellency, this city can't be held any longer—let's surrender!"

No sooner had he stepped into the main hall than Yao Xi cried out.

Zhang Guowei scolded: "Nonsense!"

Yao Xi said: "Your Excellency, General Yang and I just returned from the camps. Every battalion is severely understrength—short by one part in ten at the least, three parts in ten at the most. Every last man slipped over the city wall at night to join the Great Xia army!"

Yang Dezheng clasped his hands and said: "Today the rebels came to shout their demands, saying that more than half of Ganzhou city was already within range of their siege cannons and mortars, and that they were refraining from bombardment only out of consideration for the common people."

"Bluffing!" Zhang Guowei cursed.

Yang Dezheng shook his head: "The rebels are not lying. I went to the city wall and saw with my own eyes—they have dug a network of trenches outside the walls, and their cannons can be pushed right up to the city along them."

Yao Xi stepped forward, rubbing his arm, and said: "While we can still control the troops, we might as well surrender now—we can still win ourselves a future."

"Silence!" Zhang Guowei roared. "His Excellency Yuan entrusted Ganzhou to us before he left—have you all forgotten?"

Yao Xi let out a contemptuous sneer: "His Excellency Yuan? His Guanning crack troops were all slaughtered by our own hands, and His Excellency himself was executed by a thousand cuts by the Emperor. When a man dies, his policies die with him—he can't command us anymore.

Never mind His Excellency Yuan—even those grand lords in the court, when have they ever given a thought to Ganzhou's situation?"

The Ming dynasty ruled the military through the civil service. A Guard Commander like Yao Xi had no business being so insolent before the Governor of Southern Gan, and Zhang Guowei sensed a whiff of coercion in the air—which made him grow calmer instead.

Yang Dezheng dropped all pretense and said directly: "Your Excellency, if we don't turn from darkness to light soon, I fear our own soldiers will cut off our heads and present them to the Great Xia army as a reward claim."

Zhang Guowei sat upright behind his desk and said coldly: "Oh? By General Yang's meaning, if I refuse to defect to the enemy, the two of you intend to cut off my head as well?"

Yao and Yang had indeed harbored that intention, but seeing Zhang Guowei's awe-inspiring righteousness, neither dared to make a move.

Zhang Guowei shifted his tone and said: "We have held Ganzhou for nearly a year and killed no small number of rebel soldiers. If we defect rashly, will the rebels truly let us off? Even if that Lei bumpkin puts on a show of magnanimity and doesn't hold a grudge, what about those rough soldiers from Nan'ao?"

At these words, both Yao and Yang hesitated.

Yang Dezheng said: "But if we keep holding out, we're walking the road to death!"

Zhang Guowei produced his memorial: "I am currently requesting aid from the court."

"The court?" Yao Xi's face was full of contempt. "The court killed His Excellency Yuan, then sent Zhu Dadian, who knew nothing of military affairs. Now Zhu Dadian is dead in defeat, and the court has no one left to send. Wait for the court? By the time their relief forces arrive, I'll have been dead and buried long ago!"

Zhang Guowei slammed the desk and rose: "How dare you! You—uh—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Yao Xi lunged forward in a single stride. A dagger slid from his sleeve into his hand, and he drove it straight into Zhang Guowei's belly.

Zhang Guowei's face was frozen in shock, the rest of his words forever lost.

Yao Xi's face twisted savagely as his right hand viciously twisted the dagger. Zhang Guowei's expression contorted in agony, and soon blood spilled from his mouth. He trembled: "Treacherous villain!" Then his arm went limp, and the light of life faded from his eyes.

Yang Dezheng stood frozen on the spot, murmuring: "You—you killed the Governor!"

"Indeed!" Yao Xi withdrew the dagger and wiped the blood clean on his robe. "I killed him. If we brothers want to live, he had to die!"

At that moment, the household guards lying in ambush nearby heard the commotion and rushed in. Seeing the bloody scene in the hall, they stood frozen.

The guard captain, seeing Zhang Guowei's brutal death, glared with eyes nearly split open and bellowed: "Follow me—kill these two traitors!"

Yet the moment the words left his mouth, not a single guard moved.

The Governor of Southern Gan was dead now, and they were trapped in the city by the Great Xia army. Whether to avenge him no longer mattered—what mattered was how to save their own skins.

At the same time, Yao and Yang's personal attendants, hearing the commotion, also charged into the residence and quickly took control of the situation.

The guard captain let out a great roar and charged forward himself. He swung his blade down, and Yao Xi, without dodging or flinching, took the blow on his cloth-faced armor, then slashed with his dagger.

Blood sprayed from the guard captain's throat, splattering across the floor with a patter. His long saber clattered to the ground, both hands clutching his neck as he collapsed into the pool of blood.

Yao Xi looked at the crowd and announced in a loud voice: "Pass the order to all troops—prepare for battle. In two hours, I'll lead you out!"

The soldiers acknowledged in unison and swiftly relayed the order.

Yang Dezheng said: "Commander Yao, shouldn't we restrain the troops and first send an envoy beyond the walls?"

Yao Xi said: "Why send an envoy? Zhang Guowei was a pedant, but one thing he said was right—even if we surrender, will that Lei bumpkin truly let us off?"

"Bumpkin" was a derogatory term Southerners used for Shandong men in the late Ming. The Ming and Xia sides had faced off at Ganzhou for nearly a year, and both were thoroughly familiar with each other's commanders.

Yang Dezheng sighed: "If we don't surrender to the Great Xia, where are we to go?"

Yao Xi said: "With twenty thousand elite troops in hand, is there anywhere in the world we cannot go?"

"You—you want to rebel?" Yang Dezheng said in a trembling voice.

Yao Xi said with soaring boldness: "The Emperor is benighted, the realm is in chaos—this is precisely the time when heroes emerge and each shows their skill. Even a sea bandit like Lin Qian can entrench himself in the southeast; with you brothers, why worry about not accomplishing a great enterprise?"

Yang Dezheng hesitated a moment, then made up his mind: "Then let's do it!"

Yao Xi clasped his hands and said: "Excellent. I, Yao Xi, swear to Heaven—if I one day seize the realm, I will surely share it with you, elder brother! Should I break this oath, may Heaven strike and Earth destroy me!"

Yang Dezheng's expression turned solemn, and he too swore an oath.

After hearing him finish swearing, Yao Xi said: "To accomplish a great enterprise, we must first have military funds. There are five great households in the city. I'll trouble you, elder brother, to lead men to collect the army pay. This must be done swiftly and cleanly—we must not let the Xia army outside the city learn of it!"

"Understood!"

An hour later, a band of soldiers knocked on the door of the Wen family estate in Ganzhou city.

The gatekeeper cracked open the door, saw several hundred soldiers holding torches, and froze on the spot: "Gentlemen, gracing us so late at night, what—"

"Pfft!" A wild-goose saber thrust straight through the gatekeeper's mouth, the blade tip punching out through the back of his skull.

The gatekeeper's body convulsed and twisted in agony.

The leading officer pulled back his blade and said only one word to the soldiers behind him: "Go!"

Several hundred soldiers holding torches surged into the estate, killing anyone they saw and looting anything of value. These troops had been besieged for a long time, their hearts full of fear, and they had suffered repeated discrimination from the city's great households—now they vented all their pent-up resentment at once, showing no mercy whatsoever.

The master of the Wen estate heard the commotion and came barefoot, not even stopping to put on shoes, to plead before the leading officer: "Military sir, it's all a misunderstanding! I'm Wen Chunkui! When the army defended the city, our family contributed money and effort—why do this, why, why?"

Even as he pleaded, a young woman with disheveled hair and torn clothing ran into the courtyard, and was quickly seized by soldiers and dragged toward a room.

The girl was terrified beyond measure. Catching sight of Wen Chunkui from the corner of her eye, she screamed: "Father! Save me!"

Seeing this, Wen Chunkui's soul flew beyond the heavens. He dropped to his knees at once: "Military sir, that is my daughter! She is not yet married! Military sir, take whatever you want to carry away—only I beg you, spare my daughter, spare this old man's family!"

The officer drew his blade with a "shing" and chopped at Wen Chunkui's face. With a scream of agony, he bled out and died struggling.

The officer said flatly: "Noisy."

Before long, flames burst forth from the Wen estate, and soon other great households elsewhere in the city were also ablaze.

At the Xia army camp outside the city, Lei Sanxiang was snoring like thunder.

A personal guard rushed into the tent: "Regional Commander, flames are rising from Ganzhou city—something may have happened within!"

Lei Sanxiang jolted awake from his sleep, sat up with a carp-like spring, and walked outside the tent to look. He saw firelight soaring to the sky in Ganzhou, with faint screams carried on the wind. After a moment's thought, he ordered: "Put the entire army on alert!"

After waiting one or two hours, a subordinate general suddenly said: "Regional Commander, Ganzhou's city gates have opened!"

Lei Sanxiang raised his telescope and looked. By the light of the moon and the flames, he could see from afar that the barbican gate of Zhennan Gate stood wide open.

"Regional Commander, let me lead men in and charge!" said Tang Qing, Battalion Commander of the Mountain Division.

Lei Sanxiang slowly shook his head: "In this pitch darkness, who knows whether the enemy wants to shut the gate and beat the dog, or is putting on an empty-city stratagem. Let's watch a while longer."

Before long, a dispatch rider arrived on a Jizhou horse to report: "Regional Commander, the Baisheng Gate on the east side stands wide open!"

Moments later, another dispatch rider came to report: "Jianchun Gate stands wide open. A cavalry force of several hundred slipped out of the city amid the chaos, broke through our defensive line, and fled toward the southeast."

Lei Sanxiang asked: "What did that force look like?"

The dispatch rider said: "Men and horses all fully equipped, with remarkably accurate archery—they should be household retainers."

Lei Sanxiang considered briefly, then said: "Zhang Moye, lead one battalion of your command into the city as vanguard to scout the enemy situation. Tang Qing, take the Mountain Division and chase down those sons of bitches!"

"Yes!" The two clasped their hands in unison and departed separately.

Nearly another hour passed. The eastern sky began to show the pale gray of dawn, and a green signal flare shot into the air, bursting above Zhennan Gate.

This was the signal confirming the city was secure. Lei Sanxiang ordered: "Fifth and Sixth Battalions, provide support outside the city. The remaining Second, Third, and Fourth Battalions—follow me into the city!"

The Xia army's shield-and-halberd banners fluttered in the morning breeze as the great force marched slowly toward the city gate.

The defenders on Zhennan Gate's three-tiered barbican had all fled clean away. The Xia army met no resistance whatsoever and directly occupied every position along the city walls.

Seeing the main force enter the city, a dispatch rider hurried forward at a trot.

Lei Sanxiang asked: "What's the situation in the city?"

"Reporting to the Regional Commander: word is there was a mutiny in the city. The Governor of Southern Gan is dead, the Guard Commander of Ganzhou Guard abandoned the city and fled, and the remaining Ming troops are looting throughout the city."

Yao Xi's original intent had been merely to loot a few great households, scrape together capital, and then break out with his men. He never expected that the troops, repressed for too long, would become uncontrollable the moment looting began.

If he didn't leave now, he would only be trapped in the city. He could only gather his personal guards, distribute the loot among the soldiers for carrying, then order all the city gates opened—while he himself slipped out amid the chaos and fled beyond the walls.

Lei Sanxiang cursed: "A pack of sons of bitches! Order a city-wide curfew. When you see Ming troops, give them one call to surrender—any who don't surrender, shoot them on the spot!"

"Yes!" The dispatch riders sprinted in all directions to relay orders to the battalion commanders.

Before long, gunfire rang out everywhere in the city. By noon, the shooting had gradually died down, and across Ganzhou's several hundred streets, the corpses of mutinous soldiers lay strewn everywhere.

What slightly surprised Lei Sanxiang was that the fiercest looters were actually the local Southern Gan troops. Stationed in Ganzhou for a long time, they had suffered no small amount of bullying from the great households—and now they had taken their revenge all at once.

By contrast, the Zhejiang troops had better discipline. Their grievances with Ganzhou's common folk ran shallow, and they had not participated much in the looting.

After the midday meal, Lei Sanxiang stood atop the gate tower of Zhennan Gate, gazing out over Ganzhou city. Smoke and fire were everywhere. Large numbers of Ming prisoners were gathered together, squatting with their heads in their hands at the foot of the city walls. As far as the eye could see, the surrendered troops stretched without end.

Zhang Moye, covered in blood, climbed the gate tower to report: "Regional Commander, we have captured several thousand Ming troops. Most of the other mutineers have been executed."

"All key positions within Ganzhou city are now in our hands. Ganzhou is ours!"

Lei Sanxiang nodded: "Send word of victory to Guangzhou!"

When Gu Yanwu's ship arrived in Guangzhou, news of the Xia army's capture of Ganzhou had only just reached the city. The folk at the harbor treated it as idle dinner-table chatter, paying it no mind.

But when Gu Yanwu learned of it, he was greatly shocked. Ganzhou was the foremost mighty city of the southeast. With this city breached, the Xia could sail down the Gan River, taking cities and seizing territory—the Ming court would have no more defensible strongholds.

The whole of Jiangxi, and even all of Zhejiang along with it, was likely already a bagged prize for the Xia!

His hometown of Kunshan was under Ming rule. He had had to sneak around when he came, but perhaps after he obtained his degree, he could return openly and lawfully.

Soon the ship docked, and Gu Yanwu left the wharf without much questioning.

"The Xia officials are far too perfunctory. With so many outsiders entering their territory, they don't even conduct a proper screening."

The speaker was Gui Zhuang, also a xiucai of the Fushe Society and a close friend of Gu Yanwu. The two shared similar interests and both looked down on the opportunistic ways of their contemporaries. They often discussed state affairs together and voiced their lamentations, earning the nickname "Gui the Strange, Gu the Eccentric" from their Fushe classmates.

Compared to Gu Yanwu, Gui Zhuang had a famously distinguished great-grandfather—Gui Youguang, the author of the Record of the Xiangjixuan Study.

Gu Yanwu laughed: "Since the death of the Wei eunuch, the power of the Eastern Depot and Embroidered Uniform Guard has declined greatly. They no longer have the capability to plant agents in the Xia."

The two chatted as they walked toward Guangzhou city, and the moment they entered, they were dazzled by the city's splendor.

Gui Zhuang praised, "Who would have thought Guangzhou's prosperity would rival or even surpass Nanjing's."

Both were from prominent families in South Zhili and frequented Nanjing, so they considered themselves well-traveled, yet now they felt like country folk entering a city for the first time, finding everything novel.

"Excuse me, may I ask what this is?" Gui Zhuang approached a stall and asked.

The object he pointed at was entirely crimson, its exterior fibrous, looking like a ball of burning flame—truly remarkable.

"This? This is mace." The vendor smiled. "It's an extremely precious spice. You can use it in pastries or stewing meat, and it can even cure headaches."

"I know nutmeg, but this thing has a skin?" Gui Zhuang was utterly astonished.

Gui Zhuang wore a scholar's robe—clearly a degree-holder with money to spare—so the vendor eagerly began hawking his wares.

"You wouldn't know this, sir, but all the nutmeg in the world grows on islands in the South Seas, called the Banda Islands.

Because the spice is so precious, the Dutch in Batavia, seeking to monopolize it, slaughtered the native islanders to the last, eventually seizing sole possession of the islands and becoming the exclusive producer.

The little spice my shop has was bought by our manager from Hoi An. We have many other precious goods shipped from the South Seas—why not step inside and have a look?"

The South Seas were no longer unfamiliar to the people of Fujian and Guangdong, but to Gu and Gui, talk of the Banda Islands and the Dutch was pure fantasy!

After all, back in the Kunshan area, people still couldn't tell the two kinds of Franks apart and still called the Dutch "red-haired barbarians."

Gui Zhuang was stunned for a long moment, then revealed a knowing smile: "That's a well-told tale." He then departed with a flourish.

The shopkeeper's assistant watched his retreating back and muttered, "Country bumpkin!"

They walked a bit further before Gui Zhuang grabbed Gu Yanwu and pointed at a bookshop: "Books!"

Gu Yanwu said helplessly, "We still need to register at the yamen for the examination. Better not to dawdle."

Gui Zhuang said, "We don't know where the Provincial Administration Commissioner's office is anyway. Why not go in and ask around? Maybe we can even learn the examiner's temperament and preferences, and pick up a couple of examination essays."

What they opposed was mechanically drilling into the eight-legged essay—like guessing topics, rigidly adhering to format, or reading only examination essays. Learning about the examiner and studying model essays before the exam was only proper, not mechanical drilling.

With that thought, Gu Yanwu nodded in agreement, and the two entered together.

Outside the bookshop they sold Nan'ao Times, while inside were all sorts of popular novels—for instance, Feng Menglong's Sanyan stories had over a hundred illustrated editions printed, displayed prominently, with a line on the cover reading: "White Snake updated! See how Lady White floods Golden Mountain!"

"Vulgar!" Gui Zhuang cursed inwardly, yet somehow found himself flipping open Stories to Warn the World, eager to read on.

"Erli!" Gu Yanwu reminded him in a low voice.

"Right, right, examination essays!" Gui Zhuang snapped back to himself, hastily closing the novel. He searched for a long while but couldn't find any examination preparation materials—instead discovering countless books on miscellaneous subjects.

Among them, a deluxe edition of the Complete Treatise on Agriculture immediately caught Gu Yanwu's eye. He casually opened it, took a deep whiff of the ink fragrance, his face full of rapture, and when he looked at the contents, he was utterly amazed!

"Erli, look at this book—printed with five-color ink, so exquisite! And these illustrations, so finely done, lifelike as can be!"

Gui Zhuang leaned in and exclaimed with delight, "Indeed! The pictures are so realistic—surely farmers following them as a guide couldn't go wrong!"

"Yes, look at this rice stalk—it seems somewhat different from the ones in Jiangnan—"

Gu Yanwu was devoted to practical learning; he was hooked at first sight and kept flipping through the pages.

"Gentlemen, this Complete Treatise on Agriculture costs only one fish coin per copy. It was personally written by Headmaster Xu. Follow what's in this book when farming, and you'll increase your grain yield by at least twenty percent." The shop assistant approached with a feather duster, smiling amiably.

After all, this was a bookshop—if people read for free all day, wouldn't the owner end up eating the northwest wind?

So whenever the assistant saw someone lingering too long without buying, he would politely come over and shoo them away.

Reminded, Gu Yanwu remembered his purpose. He hastily put the Complete Treatise on Agriculture back in its place and clasped his hands: "We are scholars on our way to the provincial examination. Might you tell us where the Provincial Administration Commission in Guangzhou is? Also, does your shop sell examination essays?"

The assistant pointed out the location of the Provincial Administration Commission, then said, "Great Xia has just restored the civil examinations, so model essays haven't been printed yet. But in my opinion, you needn't bother with those model essays anyway. Great Xia's examinations have always been unconventional. Why not buy a copy of the Great Xia Gazette Digest instead?"

A "gazette digest" was similar to a "capital gazette"—a compilation of newspapers over a period of time.

Gu Yanwu bought a copy of the Great Xia Gazette Digest with some skepticism, and after leaving the bookshop and flipping through it, finding nothing particularly special, he felt rather cheated.

But they hadn't walked far before they spotted an even larger bookshop.

This one had even more customers—so many that the assistant's feather duster couldn't chase them away.

Gui Zhuang sighed, "Who would have thought that in this miasmic land of Lingnan, bookshops would be built grander and grander."

A nearby peddler overheard him and laughed, "That's nothing. The Shouxin Pavilion at Civilization University, which collects books from all over the world—now that's truly grand!"

"Civilization University? The academy run by Headmaster Xu?" Gu Yanwu's eyes lit up.

He didn't know what Civilization University taught, but he had long heard of Xu Guangqi and the Complete Treatise on Agriculture—their names thundered throughout Jiangnan.

Among the scholars of South Zhili, Headmaster Xu's reputation far exceeded that of the "Helmsman."

The peddler pointed east: "Yes, just outside the east city wall, less than twenty li from Civilization Gate."

Gu Yanwu clasped his hands in thanks. There was still plenty of time before the provincial examination, so he planned to find an opportunity to visit the university—even if he failed the exam, the trip wouldn't be wasted.

With that, following the bookshop assistant's directions, he and Gui Zhuang wound their way through the streets and finally reached the Provincial Administration Commission before dusk. Compared to all the wonders they had seen along the way, the commission's gate was utterly unremarkable—even somewhat cramped and shabby next to Nanjing's, with none of the fresh vigor of a new dynasty that had changed heaven and earth.

But the commissioner's office was highly efficient. Evidently many scholars had recently come to register for the examination, for a special desk had been set up in the compound's courtyard to process registrations.

Gu Yanwu and his companion were from another province and lacked guarantee documents. They had expected the process to be troublesome and had prepared loose silver for greasing palms.

But to their surprise, when they presented their "Yingtian Prefecture Examination Qualification License," the clerk verified their names, native places, physical descriptions, and the official seals of both the pass and the prefectural school, then registered them on the spot without the slightest delay.

"The provincial examination is set for one month from now, on the twenty-fifth of the third month. The examination hall is outside the city—do not be late."

The clerk returned the license without a single superfluous word, nor the slightest obstruction.

Even after walking out the door, Gu Yanwu felt as if he were in a dream.

Over the following days, the two of them stayed in their inn room, carefully studying the Collected Commentaries on the Four Books and the Great Xia Gazette Digest.

But they remained restless, unsure how much the Great Xia eight-legged essay would differ, who the examiner would be, or how they should review their studies.

Meanwhile, news from outside kept arriving: after capturing Ganzhou Prefecture, the Xia army had sailed north along the river and taken Shangyou County, Longquan County, Xingguo County, Wan'an County, and other places in one breath. The entire southern Gansu region had fallen under Great Xia's control, and their spearhead now pointed straight at Ji'an Prefecture.

In his anxiety, Gu Yanwu realized that true skill was built in daily practice—cramming before an exam was no real accomplishment. He decided to relax and go out sightseeing, heading straight for the Civilization University he had long looked forward to visiting.

Civilization University restricted entry nowhere except its research and confidential facilities—especially not at the Shouxin Pavilion.

With the provincial examination approaching, the Shouxin Pavilion was crowded with scholars, most of whom had heard of its vast collection and come looking for examination essays, only to leave disappointed.

Gu Yanwu, devoted to practical learning, instead felt like a fish in water.

According to Shouxin Pavilion rules, non-students could not borrow books, so he picked up a copy of the Records of Foreign Peoples of the Great Ming and sat in a corner reading with great relish. When he looked up again, the lamps had already dimmed, and the attendant came over to shoo him out.

Gu Yanwu put the books back in their places and walked out of Shouxin Pavilion, feeling a vague sense of loss. Suddenly he noticed another person outside the main gate, also staring blankly at the moon.

Gu Yanwu recognized this person as the one who had been sitting directly in front of him earlier, also there from morning till evening. He seemed to be another lover of practical learning. This man was about the same age as him, dressed in a blue robe and square cap, and likewise held the xiucai degree. He must also have come to take the Great Xia special examination. Since they were fellow candidates of the same year, it would be worth making his acquaintance.

With this in mind, Gu Yanwu stepped forward and cupped his hands in greeting: "Sir, have you come for the examination? May I ask your esteemed name?"

The man turned around slowly. His face was dark and ruggedly ancient in feature. He cupped his hands and replied: "I dare not presume. I am Huang Zongxi, a late student from eastern Zhejiang, courtesy name Taichong. I was just now so absorbed in my reading that I lost track of my path — how shameful, how shameful. May I ask your esteemed name and courtesy name?"

Yahei

Fenyuan

Pen