Chapter 453: Doujin 5: Turning Around Suddenly — Narkissos

Doujin 5: Turning Around Suddenly — Narkissos

Doujin 5: Turning Around Suddenly — Narkissos

Yiyou I

Yiyou had once imagined her beloved.

Father said she resembled him the most. Whether others believed this or not, Yiyou had felt proud, happy, wistful, and doubtful about it. The first thing she doubted was that she truly lacked her father's poetic talent—not even comparable to her two elder sisters, and she always got the most basic tones and rhymes wrong.

But her memory was excellent. She remembered every poem and essay she had read with perfect clarity, and she remembered people and events just as clearly.

The first ci poem she ever read was "Green Jade Cup," composed by her father and taught to her by him. After she finished reading it, her father did not tell her about Zong Zhongwu's deeds. Instead, he asked her, "Yiyou, what do you think this is about?"

Turning around suddenly, there he is, in the fading lamplight.

Yiyou stared at the last line and said crisply, "It's about Father meeting a beautiful lady he liked on the road."

Father laughed heartily, laughed until tears nearly came to his eyes. Finally, he shook his head without explaining and cheerfully took her to find other amusements.

Yiyou later came to understand the true meaning of this ci, but she still couldn't help thinking of that line: Turning around suddenly, there he is, in the fading lamplight.

She thought, if only she hadn't turned around back then.

Turning around suddenly, there he is, in the fading lamplight.

...She would still turn around.

Zhang Shi I

He had seen the Emperor's princesses and princes early on, but aside from a deep impression of the Emperor's "parenting philosophy" and his own father's strange expression, he had forgotten everything else.

—The term "parenting philosophy" was something Yiyou brought up later, saying it was a phrase the Emperor had used. By then, he was already very familiar with Yiyou.

Zhang Shi truly got to know Yiyou during a Grand Academy political debate. He had always been among the most prominent figures in the Academy, not just because of his father Zhang Jun. It was like how Han Yanzhi could rally a crowd with a single call, not just because of his father Han Shizhong, or because he had already been designated as the Imperial Son-in-Law.

The Grand Academy political debate was lively indeed, but that time he happened to have an upset stomach. Feeling listless and alone, he missed the event and simply didn't go, hiding in the back to calculate formulas from the official gazette. Perhaps because he was in a gloomy mood, he got stuck on a step and couldn't find the result. Suddenly, a voice came from behind him: "Here, you need an affine coordinate system."

He was stunned for a moment, then followed the thought and suddenly figured it out. But just as he was about to thank the speaker, he turned around and found that the speaker was a young girl of about thirteen or fourteen, with a cluster of Imperial Guards following at a distance of over ten paces.

"I've seen you before, Zhang... Zhang Jingfu (Zhang Shi's courtesy name)." The girl smiled faintly. "Why aren't you participating in the Grand Academy political debate like the other students?"

The Emperor's eldest and second daughters were already married. The only daughter he kept by his side and allowed to wander freely was his third daughter, Zhao Yiyou. Zhang Shi guessed that what she had been about to say was "Zhang Qing," but somehow, as the words reached her lips, she changed it to his courtesy name.

Physical discomfort—that was the reason he gave.

Yiyou nodded, then looked at the pie by his inkstone and laughed. "Since you're unwell, you'd better not eat the pie dipped in ink."

Zhang Shi looked down at the pie, half-eaten and stained with black ink he hadn't even noticed, and for the first time, he understood what it meant to be so embarrassed he wished the ground would swallow him.

Yet the girl before him still had laughter in her eyes, and the gaze she cast at him was like a force in physics—a vector with direction.

Han Yanzhi I

Han Yanzhi felt as if he was always missing something compared to others.

He voiced this feeling during the Lantern Festival, when Yiyou was gazing into the distance at Xiniang, who thought she had cleverly slipped away to meet her lover. Yiyou didn't hear clearly, her eyes still following Xiniang's figure, and only asked vaguely, "What?"

Han Yanzhi withdrew his gaze from Yiyou's profile, glanced over at the couple Fuyou and Shenyou, and repeated himself. Yiyou pulled back her gaze, followed his line of sight to her eldest sister and brother-in-law whispering intimately, and her second sister and brother-in-law standing silently side by side. She smiled and said, "Is someone using eldest brother-in-law as an example again?"

This was an old topic. Among the sons of military princes and commandery princes, none could match Yue Yun in military affairs and martial achievements. Even though Han Yanzhi had received excellent evaluations while serving in the Ministry of War and the Bureau of Military Affairs, he still fell short compared to Yue Yun. And since his martial strategy was inferior, and as a fellow young jinshi, he always felt he was slightly lacking compared to Zhang Shi. Clearly, Zhang Shi's career had been hindered by his father, the Grand Councilor, to avoid suspicion, yet his research into physics had made him a giant in the field day by day.

But Han Yanzhi looked at the Grand Princess and Yue Yun and shook his head. That wasn't what he meant.

—In fact, the moment he spoke, even he himself didn't fully understand what he was trying to say.

Han Yanzhi didn't know what his two brothers-in-law thought, but what he had never told Yiyou or his father was that he had initially resisted this marriage, which had been destined since his birth, precisely because he prided himself on his civil and martial talents. There was a folk saying: "Marry a princess, and trouble follows like an official's retinue." That wasn't the most troubling part. The dynasty was different from the past; marrying a princess was like cutting off one's official career. Even though the Emperor believed that the ancestors' laws were not immutable, Han Yanzhi didn't know if he could ever enter the Imperial Library, and if he did, whether it would be because of his status as the eldest son of the Prince of Qin and the husband of a princess, or because of his own reputation and achievements.

Later, he served in various posts, both as a military officer on the frontier and as a local magistrate. He began to realize how fortunate he actually was: if he had been born a generation earlier, he would either have had to face arrows and stones like his father, barely holding his ground against the Jin forces with sheer ferocity, or he would have been forever branded with the shame of the Jingkang Incident, like countless imperial relatives. And if Yiyou had been a bit more willful, like the most favored princesses of previous dynasties, lording her nobility over the lowly and her imperial status over her subjects, he might have rebelled like countless other Imperial Sons-in-Law of the dynasty, using public opinion and the censors to stir up a huge fuss.

The Prince of Qin, Han Shizhong, was outwardly brash and flamboyant. Han Yanzhi, lacking his father's experience of roughing it among the ruffian soldiers of the Western Army, kept his defiance restrained within, wrapped in a thin veneer of Confucian decorum and elegance.

When he passed the imperial examinations, he was not yet married. After the Qionglin Banquet, the Emperor brought Yiyou directly to his door. It wasn't the first time he had met Yiyou, but it was the first time Yiyou had entered the residence of the Prince of Qin, Han Shizhong. Half-encouraged, half-pushed by the Emperor, Han Yanzhi took Yiyou to "get acquainted." After a tour, they entered his study. Yiyou looked at the imperially bestowed Comprehensive Mirror for Aid in Government on his desk and smiled—it was a gift from her.

She asked, "How far have you read?"

Han Yanzhi had finished it long ago, but he didn't know if it was because he felt both elated and dejected after passing the exams, but he blurted out to this "destined" person: "Annals of Tang, Volume Forty."

Annals of Tang, Volume Forty records: Guo Ai once quarreled with Princess Shengping and said, "My father thinks nothing of being the Son of Heaven."

Yiyou seemed not to understand, lightly glossing over the question, but she clearly did understand. She asked again, "Father takes the Prince of Qin as his backbone and gall bladder. What should I take you as, Imperial Son-in-Law?"

Han Yanzhi seemed startled by the blunt "Imperial Son-in-Law," or perhaps stunned by the question itself. He couldn't answer for a long time.

"Probably my heart and liver?"

Yiyou curved her lips and narrowed her eyes as she spoke softly. But when she said such bold and straightforward words, there was no laughter in her eyes, nor the blush of a maiden's stirring heart on her cheeks.

Yiyou II

When she was teaching poetry to Xiniang, Xiniang frowned deeply at Bai Letian.

Yiyou was puzzled and asked Xiniang why she disliked him so much. To her surprise, Xiniang pointed at "Drawing a Silver Vase from the Well's Bottom: A Warning Against Elopement" and said, "This poem has such beautiful lines, why does it have to carry such a title?"

A warning against elopement. Yiyou smiled. This was the word most hated by young people in the throes of first love. She asked, "What would you have it be?"

Xiniang hemmed and hawed for a long time before whispering, "I don't think that parental commands and matchmakers' words are always good... Not starting a mess doesn't guarantee not ending in abandonment—otherwise, why would there be the poem 'Meng' in the Book of Songs? Besides, can something like this... this... really be stopped?"

Yiyou looked at the line her daughter was pointing at: From atop the wall and on horseback they gazed at each other from afar; one look and she knew her heart would break for him.

One look and she knew her heart would break for him.

When she first read this line, she was the same age as Xiniang was now. Back then, her favorite pastime was flipping through such tender, sentimental verses. Yiyou had once copied this line neatly onto a floral note, stroke by stroke, let the ink dry, and carefully tucked it into a new book on physics and mathematics that her father had ordered compiled. The Grand Academy was very close to the Imperial Palace, and her "frivolous" father had always indulged his children's comings and goings. Using the excuse of seeking advice, Yiyou strolled into the Academy with her attendants and, as expected, found Zhang Shi in the library.

She stood silently behind Zhang Shi for a while, then, as always, suddenly announced the answer she had already figured out: "The limit of the function in this problem is one."

Zhang Shi sighed, turned around, and looked at her helplessly, with an expression that seemed both annoyed and unable to muster any real anger. He glanced behind her and saw no one, so he asked, "Where are the Imperial Guards following you?"

"Downstairs."

After saying this, Yiyou inexplicably grew nervous. When nervous, she pursed her lips, but couldn't hold back a smile, the corners of her mouth lifting into a small arc. After a long pause, Zhang Shi seemed to want to say something but stopped. He stood up, bowed to her, and asked, "What did you bring this time, Princess?"

Yiyou wanted to tease him, asking why he didn't ask, "Where's Han Ziweng (Han Yanzhi's courtesy name)?" But those four words were like a thorn stuck deep in her heart—moving them would draw blood and tear flesh. She didn't dare pull it out. She paused, then simply handed the book over.

The page with the floral note tucked inside opened immediately. Yiyou noticed Zhang Shi's gaze stop on it, then, as if burned, he quickly withdrew it, letting it fall onto the reassuring problem. He read the problem for an unusually long time. In that silence, there was only the faint, lingering sound of breathing, and even the lively chirping of birds outside the window seemed muffled and indistinct.

Hearing thunder in silence—Yiyou remembered this phrase her father had once casually said. Her heart pounding with both terror and joy, she listened to her heartbeat, listened to the breathing. The breathing was so faint and lingering, intertwining until it was impossible to tell them apart.

"Is there only this one problem?" Zhang Shi asked after a long while, but he didn't look up. Yiyou didn't notice which problem he was referring to; she only saw his fingertips pressing down on the floral note, straining, faintly tinged with a pale blue-white.

"Two things," Yi You said. "One, you can finish explaining now. The other... the other is, could you give me the manuscripts you've written? I'll take them back and read them."

So Zhang Shi picked one and explained it in clear, organized detail. To be honest, his voice was not as deep and mellow as Han Yanzhi's, but it was neither too high nor too low, just enough to match Yi You's heartbeat—she had felt this way the first time she heard it.

That time had also been at the Imperial Academy's political inquiry, but she had come looking for her father near the end. At that moment, the Imperial Academy students were dispersing in twos and threes. She led her people, trying to avoid them as much as possible, when she suddenly heard a voice passionately discussing the content of the inquiry just held—and it was clearly still a young man.

She stopped to listen for a good while, the same stillness all around, as if heaven and earth held only that young man's imposing argument. It wasn't until her father arrived that the noise suddenly surged back, and Yi You realized with a start that she didn't know how long she had been listening, hadn't even noticed when the students had begun bowing in greeting.

Her father nodded casually in acknowledgment, his mind on his young daughter. As he walked, he asked her what she had made of it. Yi You paused, turned her head to glance back at the young man who was bowing in greeting with that same voice. Her father's voice carried a note of pleasure as he said this was Zhang Qing's eldest son, Zhang Shi.

Zhang Shi, Zhang Jingfu.

"Jingfu," Yi You said after Zhang Shi finished explaining, but she asked a completely unrelated question. "Speaking of the phrase 'first meeting,' I think Bai Juyi's line is good, but not excellent. Do you have any better poems in your collection?"

Zhang Shi did not ask how she had jumped from the original learning formula to poetry and song. He was silent for a very long time—so long that Yi You felt it must have been several hundred or thousand years—before he answered: "Yes, Du Fanchuan's 'Meeting a Friend.'"

Meeting you for the first time feels like an old friend returning. The new moon shines bright at the edge of the sky; morning and evening, longing is deepest.

...But such a poem is about meeting a friend, and can only be about meeting a friend.

Yi You did not voice this sudden comment that came to her. She still smiled, nodding as if in sudden understanding. But Zhang Shi, rare for him, asked a question: "Why does the Princess think the two lines about 'the wall's head' are not good?"

"It's not that the lines are bad, but that the matter and feelings described in them are bad."

Yi You's smile faded. At that moment, if any of the ministers who had followed His Majesty since Bagong Mountain had seen her, they would have sworn that her expression was ninety percent like His Majesty's wooden mask—the same absence of joy or sorrow, the same unwavering calm without a ripple.

"'Heartbreak'—how painful and cutting those words are. And how unbearable the poem's end is. If it were me, I would not let such feelings end this way," Yi You said. "Just a slight loss of self-control... In a hundred years of spring and autumn, there is merit, virtue, and words—how could it be only about love?"

Zhang Shi nodded slightly, neither denying nor agreeing. Yi You only heard what seemed to be him taking a long breath in, then slowly letting it out.

Zhang Shi (2)

Zhang Shi had very few people he could talk to congenially.

Han Yanzhi counted as one. He was a great anomaly—no one had ever expected that the Prince of Qin, who once constantly said "Confucius says" and "my boy," could have such an eldest son. But he had never expected that this couple would both be people who could clash with him head-on.

After that day, Yi You began coming to the Imperial Academy often, openly, and avoiding people only as if not to disturb them. Sometimes Han Yanzhi was there, sometimes he wasn't. What they discussed was mostly original learning, and sometimes current affairs and people's livelihood.

Only never matters of romance, and rarely did they think of romance.

Unlike Han Yanzhi, perhaps Yi You was used to others not disputing what she said, so she preferred to ask questions. Questions about original learning topics were fine, but when it came to other things, she could always seize the most tricky yet most profound point, hitting the nail on the head.

He remembered once, the topic somehow turned to His Majesty and the various princes and military officials. Han Yanzhi was also there. Yi You asked a question, and for a long while no one answered. Zhang Shi remembered her gaze drifting over leisurely, and she spoke with a teasing tone: "If Zhanlang won't speak, fine. Jingfu, what are you playing at, pretending to be dumb?"

He keenly noticed that Han Yanzhi's eternally confident expression was ruffled by this sudden address, and his own expression had probably changed too—just that he happened not to be facing Han Yanzhi. He couldn't see it himself, but he knew it clearly.

Zhang Shi knew this was a small jest, or perhaps a covert little provocation. Zhanlang—such an intimate childhood name, called as openly and properly as his own formal Jingfu.

Zhanlang, the Imperial Son-in-Law, Jingfu.

Zhanlang, Zhanlang.

His inherited sharpness and edge from his father was immediately provoked. After he finished speaking, he only then realized that the Prince of Qin's eldest son was sitting right beside him. But Zhang Shi felt no embarrassment. He just looked at Yi You's eyes—identical to His Majesty's—in a manner extremely rude and insubordinate, until Yi You was the first to look away.

Zhang Shi thought this time was very long, but in truth it was only a moment. Yi You's gaze fell on Han Yanzhi beside her, and she heard him use that deep, calm voice to judge in turn: "Jingfu speaks with bold abandon, but it's also rather the bookish air of a scholar."

Zhang Shi retorted sharply: "Are you, Han Ziweng, absolutely certain you're not biased? Absolutely certain you're not bookish? Not even a trace of insatiable greed and unconscious self-conceit?!"

Han Yanzhi seemed stunned. Zhang Shi, however, had already come to his senses after speaking. After a few moments of silence, he said calmly: "I spoke out of turn just now."

Yi You and Han Yanzhi changed the subject and continued. He, meanwhile, said nothing more, unable to say anything further. It wasn't until he returned home that his father told him he would be betrothed to the Yuwen family. He still said nothing. The next morning, he told Han Yanzhi about it, not avoiding the others at the Imperial Academy, and earned a hall full of cheers and congratulations.

He smiled faintly, returning the courtesy like a proper gentleman from a poem or ritual, while thinking distractedly: Yi You will probably know by today at the latest.

Sure enough, in the afternoon, Yi You did not leave the palace. She only sent someone to deliver a new imperially printed book, related to original learning. The messenger was sharp-tongued, saying that the Princess had declared a wedding gift would naturally follow, and this book was merely a token of regard, as well as payment for the many past manuscript drafts, and so on.

This meant she had made up her mind not to return the original learning manuscripts he had written. But it didn't matter—after all, those were written for others to see in the first place. And the Yuwen lady who was said to be marrying into the family was elegant and well-versed in poetry and books, but had no knowledge of original learning.

Han Yanzhi (2)

To be honest, if only considering daily life together, Han Yanzhi might really feel that he and Yi You were just an ordinary married couple. He might find it a bit hard to say "deep conjugal affection," but it would be no exaggeration to say they were even more "harmonious as lute and zither" than ordinary couples.

This was probably because the two of them had never gotten angry or irritated.

After living together, he discovered that Yi You was very calm, completely different from the aggressive, questioning manner she had at the Imperial Academy. At the wedding, he couldn't say he felt joy—only tension and boredom. From the marriage negotiations to the personal greeting, the endless formalities and the sea of guests left him with nothing but exhaustion and irritation.

After the marriage negotiations and betrothal, the Prince of Qin's mansion held a grand banquet to celebrate. The wine served was all Blue Bridge Wind and Moon. High-ranking civil and military officials, robed in purple and crimson, entered the hall, while outside, everyone from Imperial Academy students and military academy students to personal guards and old subordinates came. At the banquet, quite a few guests drank themselves into a stupor and were helped out by servants—mostly military officials and nobles. Han Yanzhi heard some Imperial Academy students watching the commotion and muttering disdainfully about "drunk and disorderly" and such. Just as he was about to tactfully change the subject, he saw Grand Councilor Zhang's eldest son also drinking cup after cup, as if vowing to drink until he was thoroughly drunk.

He found this curious, knowing that Zhang Shi's own wedding was also coming soon. So he patted the man on the shoulder and asked in a low voice: "I've never seen you drunk before. What's this—not saving it for your own feast, but coming here to drink your fill?"

"I don't know if I was sober or drunk before," Zhang Shi said, clearly deeply intoxicated, his eyes closed and his head on the table. Before snoring, he still managed to mumble the second half: "—From now on, I won't get drunk."

Han Yanzhi stared at him for a long moment, slowly let his smile fade, and said nothing.

This was just a trivial little matter. The next time Han Yanzhi thought of it was more than a decade later. When this scene surfaced in his mind, even he was startled—he hadn't expected it to be so deeply etched, as if still before his eyes.

What brought it to mind was a rare moment when Yi You was being difficult.

—"Being difficult" wasn't quite right either. It was just that as soon as the words left his mouth, Yi You's expression visibly darkened, as if she didn't quite agree with the marriage between Xiniang and Zhang Shi's son. But she didn't say why, only asked him: "Did Zhang Jingfu also agree?"

"Mm."

Yi You had not failed to notice that scene at the Lantern Festival—in fact, she had been the one to draw Han Yanzhi's attention to it. After a long while, her expression softened. She sighed half-wistfully and said softly: "It's best if Xiniang likes it."

That scene suddenly surged into his mind, but it was not just this one scene.

Han Yanzhi suddenly remembered back at the Imperial Academy when they had discussed so-called moral conduct, judging by deeds and by intent. He forgot what he had said then, and what Zhang Shi had said. He only remembered Yi You's gaze cutting from him to Zhang Shi, like a knife carving a scar. She had said: "Judge by deeds, not by intent. By deeds, there is nothing I cannot speak of to others."

Han Yanzhi also remembered that Yi You rarely wrote poetry or lyrics, saying she lacked that quick talent. Later, she even rarely discussed poetry, only speaking of it occasionally when instructing her children. Once, when explaining "The Quiet Maiden" to Xiniang, she was greatly dismissive of the interpretation that "because the lord and his lady lacked virtue, the quiet maiden gave me a red tube as a lesson," but readily agreed with Xiniang's view that it was "expressing feelings."

Han Yanzhi casually mentioned her words to Zhang Shi, expecting him to refute them. Unexpectedly, Zhang Shi was silent for a long time, then said slowly that giving someone an object was inherently obscure and hard to interpret.

Han Yanzhi laughed and teased him, saying that the manuscripts Zhang Shi had once given Yi You were still stored at home. Lately, when Yi You taught the children, she often took out those yellowed manuscripts—he had seen it more than once. This could also be considered giving someone an object.

Zhang Shi also laughed. Han Yanzhi hadn't looked closely at the time, but now thinking back, the hint of laughter in his eyes was subtly not far from Yi You's when she had readily agreed.

Yi You (3)

A few days after news came that Zhang Shi was to be betrothed to the Yuwen family, it was already the first month. The year's end was approaching, and everyone up and down was busy to the point of chaos. Yi You rarely stayed in the palace and didn't go out. Lady Pan was even a bit unaccustomed to it for a while.

The next time she saw Zhang Shi was on the fifteenth day of the first month. On the fifteenth, the flower market was bright as day with lanterns, and fish-dragon lanterns danced all night. According to custom, Yi You should have accompanied her father, but on this day she made a rare request of him. After being cooped up for a while, she wanted to go see the lantern market.

Her father agreed. Standing on the tower, he watched from afar as his daughter merged into the crowd of laughter and voices.

Yi You didn't bring many attendants, but she couldn't go without any. A cluster of people in splendid robes and caps—when they met recognizable officials and gentry, they smiled and bowed; when they met ordinary commoners, they were taken for just another noble lady from a wealthy household, accustomed to being surrounded by attendants. Standing on the tower overlooking the capital, she was used to the flowing brilliance of lights. But being in the midst of the lively crowd, it was a magnified display of all kinds of dazzling lanterns, a full view of the mundane world's splendor.

Yi You should have missed Zhang Shi.

But the lantern beside her, depicting a beautiful flower and full moon, was too big and too bright. The light and shadow fell on people. Yi You's gaze merely swept lightly, and she instantly caught a fleeting figure. She suddenly turned her head. About to call out, but afraid she wouldn't be heard, she could only hurriedly push through the crowd to chase after him, just barely grabbing the corner of his sleeve.

Two enormous lanterns were spaced apart to mark a boundary, and the person she was looking for stood still in the shadow of that gap.

Yi You let go of his hand, stared at him blankly for several breaths, and said, "Congratulations."

Congratulations for what? Congratulations on a happy occasion? Congratulations on the new year? Yi You herself hadn't realized what she was congratulating him for, but she heard him say, "The Princess shares the joy."

…And what are you sharing joy about?

Yi You didn't ask aloud. For a long moment she didn't know what to say. After a while she asked again, "What month is the wedding?"

"…Around the third month, I suppose."

The third month. She had heard that there were peach blossoms in Chancellor Zhang's residence. By that season, the peach blossoms would surely be blooming. The peach tree is young and fair, its blossoms blaze with splendor; this maiden goes to her new home, and well will she suit her household.

How wonderful.

Yi You couldn't bring herself to say the word "wonderful." She had never seen those peach blossoms that existed only in words. She looked up at the city tower where her father stood, but couldn't make him out clearly. She glanced left and right behind her—the guards attending the Princess were shadowy figures in the lamplight. She wanted, as she had imagined countless times, to embrace the lover who had stirred such tempestuous waves within her; she also wanted, on this fine New Year's festival, to recite "Spring Day Feast" to him. But in the end, she did nothing at all—only folded her hands and made a formal bow.

Yi You turned and finally left the place where the lantern light was fading.

————THE END————

Author's Notes:

1. Yi You's daughter's childhood name is Xi Niang, taken from the line "At fifteen, the lovely maiden is called Xi Niang, with a moth-shaped hairpin slanting beside her cloud-like locks." Song dynasty poets also have verses; this is roughly the Khitan term for a beautiful woman.

2. According to research by experts, historically Han Shizhong's eldest son was suspected to be "Han Liang," but in this story Han Shizhong specifically asked the Duck Emperor to name him, and it was doubted the Duck Emperor would choose such a name, so Han Yanzhi was made Yi You's husband. According to both the story and history, Zhang Shi and Han Yanzhi were both younger than Yi You. Therefore, in this story, Yi You prefers a relationship with a younger man.

3. Both the Zhang and Han families owned property in Jingyuan. Regardless of where the capital might be moved, they surely also had real estate in the capital's first ring. Han Yanzhi and Zhang Shi were both historically famous "adorable lads," so here they are arranged as classmates at the Imperial Academy and old friends. Zhang Shi's official career was mediocre, but he was a great Neo-Confucian scholar—here, a great original scholar—while Han Yanzhi excelled in both civil and military arts, and that is not changed here.