Chapter 18: Zhang Jie: Was Di Pangpang Me All Along?

“Mr. Li.”

Among the crowd, someone recognized Master Li.

“Mm.”

Master Li gave a slight nod in response.

“Mr. Li, please come inside.”

The man who recognized Master Li quickly stepped aside to clear a path for him.

As for why he didn’t ask what Master Li had come for?

He had already come right up to the Tiger-Slaying Hero’s line—was he here for anything other than to see the Tiger-Slaying Hero?

After thanking the man, Master Li walked inside.

Behind him followed the same group of people from earlier.

“Whoa! What a mighty giant of a man!”

Master Li, entering the crowd, saw the giant surrounded by others, still towering a head above them,

his muscles knotted like ropes, as if he bore a thousand jin of strength, yet not bulky,

instead radiating a primal, wild beauty of the Central Plains—he could not help but praise aloud.

Those who followed Master Li nodded in deep agreement.

They also began to believe, just a little, in the nearly absurd rumor:

If anyone could kill a tiger bare-handed, it had to be this giant before them!

After glancing at the giant, Master Li’s gaze was drawn to the litter carried by several burly men behind him.

On the litter lay the corpse of a tiger that, even in death, still exuded the aura of the king of beasts.

This tiger was several times larger than an ordinary one.

If an ordinary tiger weighed five or six hundred jin, this one weighed at least seven hundred jin!

“Sss…”

What most startled Master Li and those behind him was,

that the tiger’s head was a bloody, mangled mess,

as if someone had grabbed its skull and beaten it to death with bare hands!

Even the “king” character on its forehead, symbol of its dominion over beasts, was blurred beyond recognition.

“Dong! Dong! Dong!”

Just as the crowd, like Master Li, stood stunned, the county yamen’s gong rang out.

“The County Magistrate arrives!”

A specialized yamen runner shouted loudly.

“Make way! Clear the way!”

A squad of runners swiftly parted the onlookers, lining up on both sides.

Wen Bin, County Magistrate of Yanggu, walked forward slowly, accompanied by the Assistant County Magistrate.

As for why the County Commandant, one of Yanggu’s three top officials, was absent?

The Commandant was currently leading county soldiers to deal with a massacre at a wild boar village—

a massacre caused by some fellow whose name he refused to disclose!

“We pay our respects to the County Magistrate!”

Nearby villagers, seeing this, began to bow.

Admittedly, our Great Song is useless at everything, yet tops at handing out money,

yet because it employs so many officials, its legal system is surprisingly well-developed.

Song Dynasty law required officials to be courteous and never harass the common people.

During interrogations, suspects were only permitted to kneel and weep in remorse

after they stubbornly refused to confess and the authorities presented evidence.

Thus, ordinary Song citizens, upon seeing the County Magistrate,

typically only needed to perform a bow or stand respectfully—no kneeling required.

Of course, what the law said was one thing; how it was enforced was another.

Our Great Song’s masters, aside from appeasing the Emperor in Bianjing’s palace,

when else did they ever care about the Great Song’s laws?

In their eyes, the Great Song’s laws were as useless as Ming Dynasty’s later-issue treasure notes—too stiff even for wiping one’s backside.

Even though many of these laws were ones they themselves had helped draft…

…

“Heh.”

“Today, I came because I heard our Yanggu County has produced a Tiger-Slaying Hero—I wished to see him for myself.

This is a joy shared by all of you, so no need for formal bows.”

Wen Bin smiled and waved his hand to stop the crowd’s salutes.

“This must be the heroic Wu, the one who slew the tiger?”

Looking at the giant in the crowd’s center, Wen Bin’s eyes lit up, and he hurried forward.

“Wu Song, pays his respects to the County Magistrate.”

The giant bowed, hands clasped, slightly lowering his body.

Clearly, this giant was none other than Wu Song, the famed Tiger-Slaying Hero of Water Margin.

After all, who else but Wu Song, the Second Brother, possessed the brute strength to kill a tiger bare-handed?

“Hero Wu, no need for such formalities.”

Wen Bin reached out, gently lifting Wu Song to his feet.

As Wu Song conversed with County Magistrate Wen,

Master Li, watching the spectacle in the crowd, suddenly heard a voice behind him:

“Mr. Li.”

Master Li turned and saw his most accomplished student—he smiled and said:

“Ah, it’s Renjie! You came to join the crowd too?”

It was Zhang Jie, accompanied by Pan Jinlian and others, arriving upon hearing the news.

Yes, Zhang Jie was one of Master Li’s students.

As previously mentioned, Master Li ran a private school in Yanggu County, and Zhang Jie had once studied there.

Why, then, could a mere Shucai like Master Li run a school

that became one of Yanggu County’s most renowned?

First, because Master Li was courteous and generous, known for his upright character;

over the years he ran the school, he never looked down on students whose families were poor and couldn’t pay tuition.

Second, because Master Li truly was learned—he knew the heavens above and the earth below,

and understood human affairs with great acumen.

The only pity was his bad luck—he failed the imperial examinations repeatedly.

After repeated failures, the naturally easygoing Master Li let go of his ambition and devoted himself fully to education.

Several of Zhang Jie’s senior classmates had already passed the provincial exams, further enhancing Master Li’s reputation.

As for the Jinshi degree, none had yet achieved it.

After all, competition for the Jinshi was fiercely intense.

Ironically, when Zhang Jie first learned Master Li’s real name, he was quite startled.

Because Master Li’s real name was Li Xiucheng!

He shared the same name as the famed King Zhong of the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom!

But Zhang Jie had only been mildly surprised at the time, and paid it little mind.

After all, the Song Huizong era was nearly seven hundred years before the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom,

even the grandfather of the grandfather of the grandfather of King Zhong Li Xiucheng might not have been born yet!

Besides, countless people in the world shared the same name.

In the twenty-first century, there were over a hundred thousand living men named Zhang Wei alone.

(According to the Ministry of Public Security’s 2024 data, over 290,000 people in China are named Zhang Wei.)

Some statistics even suggest the number approaches 300,000.

A name means nothing.

“Such a lively scene—how could one miss it?”

Zhang Jie replied with a smile.

Renjie was Zhang Jie’s courtesy name.

Traditionally, men received their courtesy name at the Guanli ceremony at age twenty,

women at the Jili ceremony at fifteen; Zhang Jie was still under twenty, so he shouldn’t have one.

But Zhang Jie’s father, Master Zhang, had passed away three years ago.

On his deathbed, Master Zhang had summoned Master Li to bestow a courtesy name upon Zhang Jie.

It showed that although Zhang Jie was still underage, he was already capable of managing the Zhang family’s affairs.

Who else could there be but Zhang Jie as the only son?

This was akin to Emperor Jing of Han deliberately crowning the underage Emperor Wu, Liu Xiao Zhu, before his death.

A person’s courtesy name was usually connected to their given name, often serving as its complement or explanation,

complementing the given name as its outer expression, hence called the “courtesy name,” and falling into three categories:

First, the given name and courtesy name shared the same meaning, such as Du Fu, whose courtesy name was Zi Mei,

where “Fu” meant “a term for an elegant man in ancient times”;

the Northern Song prose writer Zeng Gong, whose courtesy name was Zi Gu, where “Gong” and “Gu” carried identical meanings.

Second, they mutually reinforced each other, as with Zhuge Liang, whose courtesy name was Kong Ming; “Liang” and “Ming” were closely related in meaning.

Third, they were opposites, such as the Northern Song poet Yan Shu, whose courtesy name was Tong Shu—“Shu” and “Tong” were antonyms;

likewise, Zhu Xi, who in the 21st century was nailed to the historical pillory and whose ideas were cast into the trash heap,

whose given name was Xi and courtesy name Yuan Hui—“Xi” meant brightness, while “Hui” meant dimness.

When Li Xiucai thought of Zhang Jie’s given name “Jie,” he thought of Di Renjie, who had lived upright and incorruptible, discerning talent and appointing the worthy,

repeatedly recommending virtuous and capable ministers to the Tang dynasty, achieving remarkable governance,

widely acclaimed by court and people as “the Tang’s most outstanding minister,” honored as “the one man south of the Big Dipper,”

especially renowned during Wu Zetian’s reign for his fearlessness in the face of power,

speaking frankly and urging counsel, becoming the famed chancellor Di Renjie whose name endured through history.

He chose “Renjie” as Zhang Jie’s courtesy name to inspire him with Di Gong’s example.

He hoped Zhang Jie would one day become a just and upright official who spoke for the people.

Of course, this expressed his heartfelt wish for Zhang Jie:

that Zhang Jie might, like Di Renjie, rise to both military command and civil leadership, attain the highest rank, and fulfill his grand ambitions.

One could only say that Li Xiucai had placed great hopes on Zhang Jie.

Zhang Jie’s adoptive father, Zhang Dahu, was overjoyed upon hearing this.

And so Zhang Jie’s courtesy name was settled.

Zhang Jie: Di Pangpang is me?

When he first heard Li Xiucai give him this courtesy name, Zhang Jie could only ask:

“Where’s my Yuanfang?”

Di Pangpang: Yuanfang, what do you think?

China’s captain Yan Shuangying—no, it was Li Yuanfang, wielding the Youlan Sword and carrying a chain knife:

“Your Excellency, this matter is surely suspicious!”

…

“Hmm.

I hear you’ve been studying hard at home these days, preparing for the autumn provincial examination.

Diligent study is good, but you must also relax appropriately—balance and rest are the way to lasting success.”

Li Xiucai lectured earnestly.

He knew his student had been frail and sickly since childhood,

and if he kept straining himself, he might shorten his lifespan.

Moreover, he held great expectations for Zhang Jie,

hoping this gifted student would fulfill his own unachieved dreams of passing the imperial exams and becoming a virtuous official!

“I humbly accept your teachings, Master.”

Zhang Jie replied solemnly.

Although the golden finger had arrived and he was no longer ordinary,

Li Xiucai’s intentions were good, and his concern for him was genuine.

“Enough, enough. Today, let’s not talk of that—let’s enjoy the spectacle.”

Li Xiucai waved his hand and led Zhang Jie and the others toward the center.

Those ahead, upon recognizing Zhang Jie and his group, made way for them.