Chapter 24: Exegetics

Zhao Han carried the book case, Qinxin bore the zither on her back, Jiandan held the treasured sword in both hands, and Jiupo hugged a wine jar as they clustered around Fei Yinghuan on his way to pay a call at the Hu residence.

So this was the young master Fei's style — even when visiting a friend he never forgot to put on a show!

Word had it that Governor Wei had fallen ill — a cold, a fever, a runny nose — and was now receiving treatment right here in the county. Who told him to let the mist and rain of a single cloak be his whole life? He would not even wear a broad-brimmed hat.

The governor had taken sick, so his itinerary was cancelled.

With nothing else to do, Fei Yinghuan had come to Yongping Town to see a friend — that same juren Hu who had fallen into the river midway through his journey.

Gazing from a distance at the Hu clan's great mansion, its scale no less than the Goose Lake Fei estate, Zhao Han asked curiously, "Young master, when it comes to deep and distant lineage, which is the stronger — the Fei clan or the Hu clan?"

Fei Yinghuan, quite pleased with himself, waved his folding fan and said, "The Yanshan Fei clan originates from the Jiangxia Fei clan of the Han dynasty. The Yongping Hu clan, on the other hand, comes from the Qinghua Hu line; their founding ancestor was a late-Tang presented scholar who rose to prominence following Li Keyong in quelling Huang Chao."

"So that is how it is — the Fei clan's foundations still run deeper," Zhao Han promptly flattered.

In truth, Fei Yinghuan was gilding his own family name; the Yanshan Fei genealogy can only be traced back to the late Yuan.

The Yongping Hu clan, along with the Guanxi Hu clan, both branched off from the Qinghua Hu line, and the shifts in their descent are recorded with perfect clarity.

A true eminent lineage like that, with a heritage approaching a thousand years, was something the founding sovereign of any dynasty would have to suppress and co-opt by turns.

Just looking at the main gate of their ancestral hall — by the ritual regulations of the Great Ming, it was already enough to warrant confiscation of property and banishment. Official residences and common dwellings are forbidden to use double eaves, yet the Hu ancestral hall has triple flying eaves!

Fei Yinghuan halted and stood with his hands clasped behind his back.

Wei Jianxiong went ahead to present the visiting card and said to the gatekeeper, "Fei Dazhao of Goose Lake presumes to call upon provincial graduate Hu."

"Honored guests, please enter." The gatekeeper did not even announce them but led the party straight to the garden.

Clearly, Fei Yinghuan was a regular visitor here; handing over the card was purely a formality.

"Ha ha ha ha!"

They had not waited long when Hu Mengtai came striding over in great laughter.

This gentleman wore a silk Daoist robe and a broad-brimmed hat on his head. He teased, "I hear Brother Dazhao got caught in the rain at the Gourd Spring — have you come to my house to beg for ginger broth?"

"How is it that a lout like you didn't drown when you fell into the river?" Fei Yinghuan refused to show weakness and immediately struck back.

Hu Mengtai's wife, Madam Li, was right behind her husband. Attended by two maidservants, she personally carried over the wine and dishes and declared in a clear voice, "Sir Fei wounds with wicked words — he must be punished with three cups of wine."

Fei Yinghuan's anger vanished. Putting on the air of a flirt, he said, "If my little sister pours the wine with her own hands, then your elder brother here will drink it. I trust your honored husband will not be jealous."

"Elder brother is as incorrigibly unseemly as ever," Madam Li said with a hearty laugh as she set the fine wine on the table. She was tall and slender, poised and forthright, her bearing free and easy — not at all like an ordinary woman of the inner chambers.

By relation, Fei Yinghuan and Madam Li could be considered cousins; all the great families of Yanshan County were connected by marriage.

The three took their seats; everyone else remained standing.

Zhao Han stood waiting to the side holding the book case, serving as nothing more than a human backdrop, though Jiupo did step forward hugging the wine jar to attend to them.

Hu Mengtai suddenly pointed at Zhao Han. "Elder brother has acquired yet another page boy? Are three still not enough for you?"

Fei Yinghuan said smugly, "This boy is keen-witted, like uncut jade."

"Then I must test him a little," Hu Mengtai said, addressing Zhao Han. "Step forward."

Zhao Han cupped his hands. "Greetings, Sir Hu."

Hu Mengtai asked, "How old are you this year, and have you read the Four Books?"

Zhao Han answered, "I am ten this year. The Four Books and Five Classics I have read in a cursory swallow; I can recite only a few passages."

Which passages could he recite?

"To learn and constantly practice — is that not a pleasure? To have friends come from afar…" Whatever appeared in the textbooks, Zhao Han could recite.

As a student of Chinese language and literature, he naturally had his own strengths.

For instance, Zhao Han had an exceptionally clear grasp of the developmental arc of ancient Chinese literature, and his understanding of famous authors and celebrated pieces absolutely surpassed that of most scholars of the ancient world.

The single set Selected Works of Chinese Literature Through the Ages encompassed virtually every famous piece from antiquity. What was more, the subject was compulsory; the teachers explicated every word and every line, and if you failed the final exam you had to retake it.

There was even a course called Exegetics, which required knowledge of phonology, script, and grammar — though the undergraduate content was relatively shallow; one could specialize in that direction for the graduate entrance exam.

"At your tender age, you dare claim to have read the Five Classics in a cursory swallow? I myself have only mastered my single classic," Hu Mengtai said with a laugh. "Very well — use a poem from the Book of Songs to describe Governor Wei as you saw him yesterday."

Zhao Han opened his mouth and it came at once: "Large rats, large rats, do not eat our millet! Three years we have fed you, yet you pay us no regard. We shall leave you and go to that happy land…"

"Ha ha ha ha ha!"

Hu Mengtai seemed to love laughing; before Zhao Han had even finished reciting the poem, he was already doubled over in mirth.

Fei Yinghuan could not help himself either. Clapping his hands in praise, he said, "This poem is remarkably apt — a large rat indeed." Then he asked Hu Mengtai, "Well? Is my page boy keen-witted or not?"

Hu Mengtai offered his appraisal: "Just like you — sharp-tongued and caustic."

Fei Yinghuan was somewhat displeased. "If you say I am caustic, I might accept it, but why add 'sharp-tongued' to it?"

Hu Mengtai laughed and asked Wei Jianxiong, "Old Wei, is your young master sharp-tongued or not?"

Wei Jianxiong rubbed his nose. "Don't drag me into this."

"Ha ha ha ha ha!"

Hu Mengtai laughed heartily again. Paying Zhao Han no further mind, he instead tested Fei Yinghuan directly: "Brother Dazhao, yesterday my humble wife asked me whether the characters 'shoot' and 'short' have been reversed. 'Shoot' — an inch of body — that means short. 'Short' — entrusting an arrow — that means shoot. How do you explain it?"

Fei Yinghuan was instantly dumbfounded. He had no idea how to explain it and even began to suspect that the two characters had truly been used in reverse for a thousand years.

Hu Mengtai winked and grinned. "Brother Dazhao, shall I teach you the answer?"

Zhao Han knew how much his young master prized his dignity, so he spoke up at once: "This is simple — the young master taught it to me long ago."

Hu Mengtai laughed. "Then tell us."

Zhao Han dipped a finger in wine and first drew a bow, then a hand, then wrote the character "shoot." Next he drew a spear, drew a kneeling figure lifting an object, and beside it wrote the character "short."

Fei Yinghuan grasped the meaning in a flash. Instinctively he clapped in praise, but the moment the cry left his mouth he changed tack: "Good! Good… good memory — to think you still remember the lesson I taught you days ago!"

Madam Li pursed her lips in a smile and asked, "Was it truly elder brother who taught him?"

Fei Yinghuan's face was remarkably thick. He shot back, "If I did not teach him, could he have learned it on his own?"

Since he was already putting on a show, he might as well go all the way!

Zhao Han suddenly interjected, "My young master says there are indeed two characters that have been reversed, but they are not 'shoot' and 'short.'"

Both skeptical and curious, Hu Mengtai asked, "Which two characters?"

Zhao Han did not answer, but turned to face Fei Yinghuan: "Young master, may I speak?"

Fei Yinghuan looked thoroughly pleased and feigned an air of ease: "Tell them, then. No need to hide things from our own people."

Zhao Han dipped his finger in wine again and wrote the traditional characters for "wheat" and "come."

Li craned her head over and asked: "How have these two characters been used in reverse?"

Zhao Han quoted a line from the *Book of Songs*: "He gave me the coming barley."

Hu Mengtai said: "That is the method of phonetic loan — 'come' loaned for 'wheat.' It does not prove the two characters are reversed."

Zhao Han did not explain immediately. Instead, he wrote the character for "wheat," then flipped its lower half into "stop."

Hu Mengtai was instantly dumbfounded. "Stop" is "toe" — why would the character for wheat need a toe added?

They really are reversed!

When the characters were first created, "come" meant wheat, and "wheat" meant coming and going.

The line "He gave me the coming barley" in the *Book of Songs* is no phonetic loan, but the true way to write wheat.

Hu Mengtai was now completely and sincerely convinced. He rose and bowed with clasped hands: "We have not met for several months, yet Brother Dazhao's learning has advanced by leaps and bounds. Your younger brother is utterly impressed!"

Young Master Fei felt thoroughly gratified. He raised a hand and smiled: "No need for that. Sit and let us talk."

Li looked at Fei Yinghuan, then at Zhao Han again, smiling wordlessly the whole time.

Wei Jianxiong secretly gave Zhao Han a thumbs-up, meaning: You little bastard are damn impressive — you really made the young master look good today!

Impressive, my ass.

A classic case from the study of exegesis. Some teachers toss it out in the very first class to hook the students' interest.

If he had managed to forget this, Zhao Han's old exegesis teacher would probably have to transmigrate over here, beat the hell out of him, and then transmigrate right back!

That night, they lodged at the Hu residence.

Fei Yinghuan was invited to dine with Old Master Hu, while Zhao Han ate with the Hu family servants.

"Brother, your learning is truly fine!" Qinyin praised him from the heart.

Zhao Han kept playing dumb: "It was all taught by the young master."

"Brother, don't try to fool us," Jiupo said quietly. "When the young master is embarrassed, he has a habit of pressing the top of his shoe with his right big toe. I was standing beside him just now and saw it again."

There's even a tell like that?

Wei Jianxiong silenced them with a shout: "Shut your mouths. We are in the Hu house!"

The Heng-Ha-Hey trio immediately fell silent.

Wei Jianxiong called Zhao Han aside and secretly pressed a grain of broken silver into his hand: "The young master is very pleased. He says this is for you to buy tea."

Zhao Han, who had by now developed a bit of a feel for it, weighed it casually in his hand and estimated it to be about seven or eight *qian* of silver.

Making money this way is fast indeed. He could hardly wait to help Fei Yinghuan show off every day.

It was the end of the month, so there was no moon to admire. Fei Yinghuan drank himself into a stupor and was supported back to the guest room by the Hu family servants.

Zhao Han and the others hurried over to take him, helped him out of his clothes and shoes, and then heaved him onto the bed.

Fei Yinghuan opened his drunken eyes and mumbled: "Old Wei, tomorrow we go to Hanzhu Academy. Send someone home with word that I will be staying there for two months, keeping Youli (Hu Mengtai) company in secluded study, to prepare for the metropolitan examination in the fourth year of Chongzhen."

Wei Jianxiong muttered under his breath: "Just looking for trouble. Can't he study just as well at home? He has to go off into the mountains with a companion."

"What did you say?" Fei Yinghuan was too drunk to hear clearly.

Wei Jianxiong said: "I said all right."

Fei Yinghuan went on: "Those children are going into the mountains too. Their lessons need to be tightened up. They mustn't spend all day thinking only of cards and amusements."

"Aye, very well, I've noted it down. Now just go to sleep," Wei Jianxiong urged him perfunctorily.

The Fei clan of Yanshan, through continuous multiplication and expansion, had built three academies over the centuries.

Hanzhu Academy lay on Hanzhu Mountain, five *li* south of the ancestral residence at Henglin.

Donggang Academy lay at Donggang Flat, fifty *li* west of the county seat.

Jingxing Academy lay just outside the county seat, beyond Yongping Town.

The last eminent official of the Fei clan, Fei Yaonian, on his deathbed left a final wish that all the properties under his name be sold off to build a fourth academy.

But the moment he kicked the bucket, his sons and grandsons fell over each other scrambling for the family assets, tossing the matter of building an academy clean out of their minds.

The next day, Hu Mengtai, bringing a page boy along, set out with Fei Yinghuan for Hanzhu Mountain.

The Fei family's simple-minded son was also boarding and studying there. Zhao Han was at last about to formally become an accompanying study servant.

(Once again offering a book in sacrifice: *The Unorthodox Profound Gate*, a foot soldier's unorthodox path of cultivation.)

(End of chapter)