Xu Fengnian arrived alone at the residence of the Governor of Beiliang, second only in grandeur to Qingliang Mountain. Familiar with every corner of the Li residence, he needed no guide and made his way directly to the rear garden where Xu Xiao and Li Degong were resting. The courtyard was shaded by lush locust trees. Those in the Beiliang bureaucracy knew that in recent years, Li Degong had developed a fondness for planting locust trees, and many large trees from distant regions had been transplanted into the mansion. It was said that planting locust trees in front of one’s home brought wealth and fortune, and was an auspicious omen for success in the imperial examinations. Since Li Degong himself was not particularly scholarly, and the exams often took place in the locust-autumn season, the month itself called “Huang Huang,” it was evident that the official still harbored bitterness over his repeated failures in the past.
Xu Fengnian walked along a secluded path lined with hollyhocks, and saw a sandalwood couch placed beneath the trees. Xu Xiao was sitting alone, sipping green-ant wine. In the past, Li Degong had often knelt more than sat before the King of Beiliang, but now, having become the Governor, he stood by respectfully, pouring wine with his own hands. In other regions governed by feudal lords, the Governors were first-tier officials equal in rank to the heads of the Six Ministries, and none would be as servile as Li Degong. Take, for example, Sun Xiji, the Governor of Xichu Circuit, who refused to see even the Prince of Guangling, Zhao Yi, on multiple visits. Or Dai Yuzhen, the Governor of Huaihai Circuit, who openly oppressed the Prince of Huainan, Zhao Ying, to the point of suffocation. These examples clearly showed the immense power wielded by the Governors.
As soon as Xu Xiao saw Xu Fengnian appear, he immediately offered to give up the couch, but Xu Fengnian ignored him. He asked Yuan Zuozong to fetch two chairs from the steward of the residence, and sat down with Li Degong. The afternoon sun warmed their bodies, and the few cups of green-ant wine further dispelled the chill. Li Degong had never devoted much effort to the study of classical texts; his talents lay in reading people’s hearts. Seeing the Prince return after leaving, he knew something was coming. However, noticing that the young man, who usually addressed him with a few casual “Uncle” greetings, was not in a hurry to reveal his intentions, Li Degong could only sit and drink with him, exchanging humorous anecdotes and local gossip, while throwing in a few flatteries. He spoke of how Xu Fengnian’s recent trip to the capital had won the hearts of the people. Whether or not Xu Xiao truly believed it was another matter, but the words were pleasant to hear, and his face softened with a warmer smile. Xu Fengnian watched with a faint smile, his heart filled with mixed emotions.
In the past, Yan Chiji and Yan Dongwu’s father, Yan Jiexi, had been the Prefect of Lingzhou, holding a rank roughly equal to Li Degong, who was then the Governor of Fengzhou, not yet merged into Youzhou. Now Yan Jiexi had betrayed Beiliang and gone to Tai’an City to become a royal in-law, and might even become a future emperor’s father-in-law. Li Degong was not far behind—he had not become an official in the capital, but had risen to the pinnacle of local governance. In those days, Xu Fengnian had been closer to Uncle Yan, while treating Uncle Li, whose reputation was notoriously bad, with only superficial courtesy. However, both the Yans and Lis had managed to leap the dragon gate, yet their daughters still deeply disliked him, the wayward Prince of Beiliang. Yan Dongwu had married into a prestigious family and was now the Crown Princess. As for Li Fuzhen, she had “lost her senses” and ended up with a poor scholar from a humble background. Who says that those who live near the water get the moonlight first? Xu Fengnian had been friends with Li Hanlin and Yan Chiji for so many years, yet he had never managed to earn a single kind glance from their sisters.
Xu Fengnian wasn’t truly infatuated with them—he had only teased them half-seriously in the past, enjoying the way these refined young ladies reacted. Yan Dongwu would argue with him head-on, but Li Fuzhen was even colder—she never even deigned to offer a sharp word, only cold stares and icy expressions. Leaning lazily against the chair, Xu Fengnian couldn’t help but smile.
Li Degong had been surprisingly open-minded toward that poor scholar, far beneath his daughter’s station. Instead of breaking them apart, he had secretly paved the way for them more than once, even altering and elevating the young man’s family registry from humble origins to aristocratic status, and helping him rise from a minor clerk to an official of proper rank. He had gracefully resolved both the issue of family background and official rank. Now, with the upheaval in Lingzhou’s bureaucracy, would he act again? Xu Fengnian had no intention of making things difficult for the young scholar. Although he had seen the man’s face and scheming nature during their encounter outside Tingma Temple, and the fellow had even been outmaneuvered by Xu Beizhi, Xu Fengnian thought Li Fuzhen had chosen poorly. But since the elder sister of Li Hanlin seemed genuinely happy, Xu Fengnian had no desire to interfere. In fact, if the young man truly had the talent to govern, Xu Fengnian wouldn’t mind giving him a slightly higher rank. In Beiliang, what mattered wasn’t whether someone was a clean official, but whether they were capable. Besides, who could say that this scholar wouldn’t become another Li Degong? And who could say that Li Fuzhen had chosen wrongly? Sometimes, a foolish woman might still have good fortune.
When Xu Fengnian felt sufficiently tipsy, he turned to Li Degong with a half-drunken smile and asked, “Uncle Li, do you know a young man named Xu Beizhi from Longqing Prefecture?”
Li Degong, who always became more candid when drinking, didn’t hesitate and stroked his beard with a smile. “Of course, of course! Though Xu Beizhi holds only a minor position as a scribe under the Prefect of Longqing, even the Prefect himself, Zhong Chengxin, treats him with great respect. The reason is that Xu Beizhi is highly learned and, more importantly, knows how to apply his knowledge practically in governance. He is no self-righteous bookworm. Zhong Chengxin has even offered to part with him on several occasions, strongly recommending him to me. If it weren’t for your mention, I had already decided to promote Xu Beizhi to the position of Educational Supervisor of Lingzhou next spring, to serve as the chief academic official of the region, so that his talents may be fully utilized.”
Xu Fengnian’s lips curled into a smile, and he nodded. Then he turned to the old man who had been smiling silently all along. “Xu Xiao, which is a higher position—Educational Supervisor or Academic Affairs Supervisor?”
Xu Xiao, who insisted on playing the role of a hands-off father, raised his cup and pointed at Li Degong. “Don’t ask a blind man for directions. I’m just an outsider to these matters. You should ask Uncle Li.”
Li Degong quickly laughed. “They are of similar rank, but the Academic Affairs Supervisor oversees the entire region’s education system and has a slightly higher salary than the Educational Supervisor.”
Li Degong suddenly slapped his forehead with a loud *pa!*—the blow was clearly no light tap—and exclaimed in realization, “Look at my memory! The Academic Affairs Supervisor of Lingzhou, Yang Qianli, is getting on in years. Not long ago, he even complained to me about his declining strength and hinted at retiring. What a coincidence! I think Xu Beizhi shouldn’t be appointed as an Educational Supervisor at all. The Academic Affairs Supervisor position would be much better. Only with Xu Beizhi in charge of Lingzhou’s education system can I feel at ease.”
Xu Fengnian poured another full cup of wine for both himself and Li Degong, drank it in one go, and with a tipsy gaze, said, “Uncle Li, you don’t know the whole story. When I lured Xu Beizhi to Beiliang, I promised him a high-ranking post in the local government. But just how high is a high-ranking post? There’s no clear standard, is there? I understand a bit about military affairs, but when it comes to bureaucracy, I’m completely lost. Positions like Educational Supervisor or Academic Affairs Supervisor—I’d guess they’re around the sixth or seventh rank, right? That’s about the same as a deputy governor of a minor prefecture or the magistrate of a major county. Even if Xu Beizhi doesn’t mind the rank, I made a grand promise back then, and I don’t want to break my word. Besides, I’ve already shamelessly asked Xu Xiao for the title of General of Lingzhou. If Xu Beizhi becomes the Academic Affairs Supervisor, we’ll be seeing each other all the time. I won’t even be able to go drinking with him anymore. Uncle Li, don’t you think that makes sense?”
Under the laws of Liyang, official ranks below the third tier were further divided into two grades—principal and deputy—and each rank was further split into upper and lower. Thus, even among officials of the same fourth rank, there were actually four distinct levels. The difference between capital officials and local officials, between chief and deputy posts, and between plum jobs and menial posts, all contained layers of hidden complexities. Entering the official ranks was the first great barrier—regardless of whether one was a minor ninth-rank official, the difference between official and clerk was like a chasm. The next barrier was the fourth rank, an even more formidable threshold. Most of those who achieved the status of marquis or prime minister were above the fourth rank. Reaching such a position required family background, opportunity, and ability. Take the Song family’s father and son, the “Two Scholars,” who dominated the literary world for over twenty years. Even the younger scholar was only the Deputy Minister of Rites in the Imperial Academy, a rank of deputy third.
Therefore, though Li Degong appeared humble and obedient before Xu Xiao, in Lingzhou, even a sneeze from him could send prefects trembling in fear.
Yet even now, Li Degong showed none of the bearing of a second-rank official. He nodded eagerly like a chicken pecking at rice. “Yes, yes, that makes perfect sense! Your Highness must keep your word and not go back on it. It’s all my fault for not thinking ahead. There’s also the position of Prefect of Huangnan Prefecture in Lingzhou and the Magistrate of Fengyu County. Which do you think suits Xu Beizhi better? Fengyu is the largest county in all of Beiliang, with a special rank equivalent to that of a prefecture, and it’s not far from Lingzhou’s capital city…”
Xu Fengnian suddenly yawned, set down his cup, and stood up lazily. “The current Prefect of Huangnan, Song Yan, is in his prime and seems to have a decent reputation. As for the magistrate position—though Fengyu is the largest county in Beiliang, the title itself sounds unimpressive. Forget it. The New Year is just around the corner. Uncle Li, don’t rush on this matter. I’m just a lazy General of Lingzhou. If I keep meddling in local affairs, next time I visit, you might not even let me come in for a meal.”
Li Degong slapped his thigh hard. Xu Xiao and Xu Fengnian both stood up, and he quickly rose as well, whispering, “Your Highness, since Xu Beizhi once served as a military advisor in Longqing Prefecture, why not appoint him as the Deputy Governor of Lingzhou?”
Xu Fengnian smiled. “We’ll talk about it later.”
The Deputy Governor was an important assistant to the Prefect, and when the Prefect went on inspection tours, the Deputy could travel with his own entourage—hence the name “Deputy Governor.” It was a title well-earned. Officials who served as Deputy Governors, as long as they avoided major mistakes, often advanced to become Prefects themselves. Liyang had thirty prefectures under its circuits, and the Deputy Governor was considered a crucial local official, respected by all. Xu Beizhi’s promotion from a minor clerk in a prefecture to the Deputy Governor of an entire prefecture meant he had easily crossed the second great barrier of officialdom, a feat that would draw attention across all of Beiliang. Yet what unsettled Li Degong was that the Prince still seemed indifferent, as if he were merely being polite, making it hard for Li, who usually had an impeccable sense of timing, to gauge the situation.
Xu Xiao did not let Li Degong see them off. The Governor, a master of flattery, knew better than to disturb the father and son as they left together.
After turning the corner past the screen wall, Xu Xiao chuckled. “Is it your appetite that’s big, or is it Xu Beizhi’s? Have your eyes set on the Prefect position that Li Degong is holding onto so tightly? Normally, Li Degong wouldn’t be so reluctant, but now with nearly a thousand scholars pouring into Beiliang, most of them staying in Lingzhou, there are many things the Governor cannot say outright, but which a Prefect could handle more conveniently. As the saying goes, ‘The local official is more effective than the distant one.’ Even if Li Degong hasn’t figured it out yet, with his sharp eyes, he’ll soon guess your true intentions. Let me add one thing, my son—there are paths for snakes and paths for mice. In military affairs, even if you stir up a storm with a retired general, it’s not a big deal. You can be a General of Lingzhou and still do as you please. But in the bureaucratic world, the circles are tightly interwoven, and brute force alone can’t solve everything. That’s why I’ve always avoided meddling in local politics—it’s just too complicated. The bureaucracy is like the martial world—everyone is caught in their own struggles. But unlike the martial world, you can’t just rely on strength to dominate.”
Xu Fengnian smiled faintly. “I know what’s at stake. Actually, Song Yan, the Prefect of Huangnan, is one of Li Degong’s favorite students. That position carries a lot of goodwill. If Xu Beizhi goes to Huangnan, even Li’s followers won’t support him outright, but they won’t oppose him either. But the Deputy Governor of Lingzhou—that’s laughable. I know better than anyone that the Governor is saving that position for his son, Li Hanlin. It’s tailor-made for him to eventually become the Prefect of Lingzhou. For anyone else—even someone favored by me like Xu Beizhi—it would be a struggle to hold that post. But to be honest, whether Li Hanlin rises from a military advisor to a deputy general and then to a full general, or whether he takes the path of magistrate to Deputy Governor to Prefect, I’d be happy to see it. Even if I seem heartless, I still have some personal feelings for Hanlin. Uncle Li is still being a bit too narrow-minded.”
Xu Xiao hunched forward with a smile. “The size of one’s vision isn’t fixed. Promotion and broader perspectives may help, but they still can’t match those who are naturally broad-minded. Li Degong became Governor not because of his great ability, but because he was suited for the role. That said, it was precisely because of his narrow-mindedness that he managed to reach this point. Let me share some experience, my son. Many people may not do well at first, but you still need to be patient. Take me, for example—I wasn’t always as broad-minded as I am now. Before I joined the army, I was just a street brawler, always fighting and arguing with the local hooligans. Even when I became a junior officer, I never imagined I’d one day sit side by side with those lofty ministers in the imperial court, begging them for troops and supplies, and losing face in the process—almost to the point of kneeling. The hardships I endured, even I never spoke of them to my old comrades from Liaodong.”
Xu Fengnian nodded.
Without warning, Xu Xiao burst into laughter. “Just now, watching you and Li Degong going back and forth, drinking and scheming, I couldn’t help but laugh.”
Xu Fengnian rolled his eyes and sighed, mocking himself. “In the end, I still couldn’t get the position of Prefect of Lingzhou. I was so confident earlier, making grand promises to Xu Beizhi, only to turn around and pour a big bucket of cold water over my own head in the middle of winter.”
Xu Xiao laughed even harder. “How about I go with you to see Xu Beizhi and back you up?”
Xu Fengnian shook his head. “No, you go back to Liangzhou first. I’ll definitely come back in time for the New Year’s Eve dinner. Before the military review and drill at the border in the new year, I’ll stay here and be a scary General of Lingzhou. Once Lingzhou’s affairs are settled, I’ll return to Qingliang Mountain. It shouldn’t take long.”
Xu Xiao nodded. As he stepped out of the gate of Li’s mansion, he said with a meaningful smile, “Because of you, poor Li Fuzhen had to hide behind the screen wall. She didn’t even greet me, her uncle. Don’t you want to turn around and take a look?”
Xu Fengnian didn’t turn back. He simply escorted Xu Xiao to the carriage outside the mansion and shot him a sharp glare.
Yuan Zuozong rode beside them, guarding the Prince. Xu Fengnian looked up and reminded him, “Yuan Er-ge, don’t let Xu Xiao drink too much on the way back. If he really craves it, let him have just one cup—no more.”
Yuan Zuozong, rarely in a mood for jokes, smiled with his thick eyebrows lifting, and looked into the carriage. “Father, who should I listen to now?”
The old man inside the carriage chuckled. “From now on, you listen to him.”
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