After the new emperor of Liyang ascended the throne, he emphasized the governance through literary arts, especially favoring the Hanlin Academy. His affection for the academy reached an unparalleled degree. First, he relocated the administrative offices from Zhaojiaweng to the right side of the central axis between the Wuying and Baohe Halls. Then, he issued an edict that the Hanlin Academy’s chief academician and the Ministry of Rites would jointly oversee the imperial examinations, establishing this as a customary practice of the dynasty. Thus, the saying, “Only Hanlin scholars may enter the Grand Secretariat,” spread widely in the capital.
Today, the Hanlin Academy, celebrating its grand relocation, gathered an elite assembly of talents, presenting a flourishing scene of prosperity. Among those present were Jin Lanting, the Vice Minister of Rites who rose to prominence from this very place; Li Jifu, the new top scholar of the Xiangfu era who now served in the Hanlin; Wu Congxian, both a third-place scholar and a rising star in the Go community; Song Keli, the promising young talent from the Song family who had been promoted to the Hanlin Academy due to his achievements; Yan Chiji, the son of the esteemed academician of the Tongyuan Pavilion; Chen Wang, already a high-ranking official of the third grade in the imperial court, serving as the Left Attendant of the Menxia Province; and Sun Yin, former Right Sacrificial Official of the National Academy.
Before this gathering of young talents, all under thirty, many senior ministers and nobles with ties to the Hanlin Academy had already departed. Among them were Qi Yanglong and Zhao Youling, the top two officials of the Zhongshu Province; Huan Wen, the respected elder known as “The Unswerving Elder,” widely recognized as a veteran Hanlin scholar; Yin Maochun, the former head of the Hanlin Academy who had recently taken charge of the Ministry of Personnel; and Lu Baijie, the Sword Immortal of Tangxi, known as the “Xia Guan” or Minister of War, among others. Some came alone, others in pairs, all adding prestige, nobility, and refined elegance to the newly built Hanlin Academy.
At this moment, in a quiet courtyard during early spring, beneath a green parasol tree whose branches bore small yellow blossoms like jujube flowers, everyone gathered to watch a game of Go. Surprisingly, the players were not the imperial Go attendants or national masters, nor were they Wu Congxian, who had recently defeated three national champions in the capital. Instead, the match was between two relatively unknown figures in the court and beyond. The two players were vastly different in age. A stone table with four stone stools stood between them. On the table lay an aged Huanghuali Go board, its surface exuding a rich patina. The black and white stones were stored in separate boxes on either side. The stone stools were cushioned with embroidered pads, and the two players sat engaged in silent concentration. But the remaining two stools were occupied by none other than the Son of Heaven himself, Emperor Zhao Zhuan, and Empress Yan Dongwu.
The opponent in this match, besides the refined young boy affectionately called “Little Bookshelf” by the emperor, was an ordinary citizen of Liyang, Fan Changhai of Xiangzhou in Guangling Dao. Fan Changhai was known alongside Wu Congxian as the “Twin Nines,” but in past matches, Fan had consistently outplayed Wu, earning him the title “Fan the Tenth Dan.” Additionally, Fan Changhai was renowned for his paintings of withered rocks, wild plum blossoms, and winter bamboo, particularly his plum blossoms, which were praised for their noble and austere beauty. In the capital, people now spoke of Fan Changhai’s “single tree blooming before all others in spring,” and his paintings were highly sought after in court circles, fetching a price of a thousand gold pieces per scroll, yet still in short supply.
Before Wu Congxian’s rise to fame, Fan Changhai had been summoned to the capital by imperial decree. This was due to the “Little Bookshelf,” who was actually the Director of the Astronomical Bureau, playing six games with Wu Congxian at the emperor’s behest—three slow and three fast. Wu lost all of them decisively. Thus, Fan Changhai, hailed as the greatest Go master of the age, naturally came to the emperor’s attention. The stakes of this match were high: if Fan Changhai won, he would be appointed as a Yellow Gate Attendant in the Hanlin Academy. Now that the Hanlin Academy had become the ultimate aspiration for scholars across the land, everyone present—some of the sharpest minds in Liyang—understood that the outcome of the game was not the main concern. Simply being noticed by the emperor meant Fan Changhai had already won beyond the board.
The “Little Bookshelf” was undoubtedly a prodigy, but still a child at heart. He slouched awkwardly, leaning sideways with one hand supporting his cheek, the other placing stones in rapid succession, almost immediately responding to Fan Changhai’s moves. In contrast, Fan Changhai, dressed in simple attire, exuded the demeanor of a cultivated hermit. While he appeared to be at a disadvantage compared to the eccentric young prodigy, in truth, Fan Changhai sat upright and composed, his every movement—from the deliberate selection of stones to the contemplative pauses—radiating the grace of a grandmaster. Against the aggressive and relentless style of the “Little Bookshelf,” Fan Changhai responded calmly and steadily. In the opening twenty moves, neither side had yet gained a clear advantage.
Among those watching, including Emperor Zhao Zhuan, even those not known for their Go skills—such as Chen Wang, who had never played competitively—possessed keen insight. Even the Empress, once known as the “Female Scholar of Beiliang,” watched with rapt attention.
Behind the Empress stood Yan Chiji, her younger brother. His recent inspection tour to the frontier had ended prematurely when he parted ways with the Ministry of War’s forces heading from Jibei to Lianxi, returning alone to the capital. This act damaged his reputation among scholars, but with the protection of his powerful position as the emperor’s brother-in-law, no one dared to openly criticize him. As Yan Chiji observed the intricate battle on the Go board, he gazed upward at the tree’s budding branches, a look of weariness crossing his face. If his journey to Liangzhou had left him disappointed, his trip to Jibei had filled him with anger. Jibei, a strategic stronghold since the Han family’s time, was a critical defense line against the northern invaders. Though Liyang placed greater emphasis on the Liaodong front, every general stationed in Jibei had been carefully selected by the Ministry of War and entrusted with great expectations. Yet what had Yan Chiji seen at the northern border of Jizhou? A retreat before battle, a voluntary withdrawal of the defensive line! When he rebuked the generals, they offered only vague excuses. Gao Tingshu, who had been critical of everything in Beiliang, remained uncharacteristically silent, clearly under the influence of certain figures in the capital.
Yan Chiji lowered his gaze and cast a cold look toward Jin Sanlang standing nearby. The latter, sensing the young imperial brother-in-law’s displeasure, simply responded with an impeccable, courteous smile. As Yan Chiji met his gaze, he suddenly felt his sleeve tugged. Looking down, he saw his sister pointing at a move on the board with a gentle smile: “It seems the young Director has made a brilliant move. Don’t you think so?”
The child, hearing the Empress’s praise, looked up and grinned brightly.
With a quiet sigh, Yan Chiji turned his attention back to the game, no longer engaging in a staring contest with the Vice Minister.
Fan Changhai’s calm and measured responses continued, drawing admiration from Chen Wang, who, like Yan Chiji, was also of noble birth. It was rare for a common scholar to stand before the emperor and remain composed like Fan Changhai. Li Jifu, the top scholar from Liaodong’s aristocratic family, was considered dull compared to others in poetry and music, and especially in Go and calligraphy, where he paled in comparison to Wu Congxian. Thus, many in court and beyond thought him unworthy of his title. In fact, in Jin Lanting’s poetry society, Li Jifu was rarely heard speaking eloquently. Yet a few days ago, when Minister Bai Guo of the Ministry of Revenue requested Li Jifu’s temporary assignment to the Hanlin Academy, people began to reconsider Li Jifu’s potential. Among the group, only Vice Minister Chen Shaobao, whose rank rivaled Jin Lanting’s, spoke briefly with Li Jifu. Wu Congxian, attempting to casually ingratiate himself with the Left Attendant, quickly found himself ignored.
Among those present, Song Keli’s presence was the most unexpected. The two Song scholars, once dominant in the literary world for decades, had not even received the honor of “extreme mourning and glory” upon their deaths, their posthumous titles mediocre at best. Song Keli himself had been demoted from the prestigious Hanlin Academy to a county magistrate. Jin Lanting, increasingly adept at court politics, was curious: how had the fallen Song prodigy managed to return to the capital? Whose hidden hand had lifted him? The royal clans lacked such influence, and the “Unswerving Elder” held a poor opinion of the Song family, causing former associates of Zhang Lu to avoid Song Keli. There was no known connection between the Zhongshu Chancellor Qi Yanglong and the Song family either. After pondering for a moment, Jin Lanting gave up. A single person’s rise or fall could not alter the grand scheme. Once, Jin Lanting had eagerly sought favor with Song Keli, even offering hundreds of handmade paper sheets. But now? The Vice Minister could easily ignore him.
In the small court assembly filled with ministers, Jin Lanting had to sit at the end. But here, he was the undisputed leader. As the Hanlin Academy’s influence grew, so too did the Ministry of Rites. Jin Lanting’s future control over the Ministry was certain. When the imperial examinations came, the Ministry of Rites would lead, with the Hanlin Academy in a supporting role. Thus, Jin Lanting would become the revered mentor of all scholars in the Xiangfu era!
Smiling, Jin Lanting bent slightly to observe the board, one hand resting on the jade belt gifted by the emperor, the other clenching tightly.
With the literary pulse of the realm in my hands, how can I not command the court’s favor?
Wu Congxian was perhaps the most invested in the game’s outcome. He glanced at Fan Changhai with complex emotions. As a descendant of the Spring and Autumn Annals, Fan Changhai, styled Yue Tian and known as the “Buddha’s Son,” had always been a thorn in Wu’s heart. No matter how amicably they conversed, Wu both despised and envied him—despising Fan’s disregard for the imperial examinations, envying his seemingly divine Go skills, as if aided by celestial beings.
Before and after Wu’s victories over the three national Go champions, he never mentioned Fan Changhai once. Yet the capital’s well-informed circles quickly learned of the “Tenth Dan” from Xiangzhou. Before summoning Fan Changhai to the capital, the emperor had asked Wu a few casual questions. Wu could only reluctantly say, “Your servant and Fan Yue Tian are evenly matched.” Unfortunately, this failed to deter the emperor’s curiosity. After Wu’s repeated defeats against the child prodigy, Jin Lanting said the emperor had eagerly awaited Fan Changhai’s arrival almost daily. Such favor had previously been reserved for the esteemed chancellor who once declared, “If we do not act, what hope is there for the people?”
When Fan Changhai arrived in the capital, Wu visited him that very night at the inn. “With heartfelt advice,” he described the prodigy’s Go style: “His opening moves appear careless, indifferent and weak. But in the middle game, the board transforms suddenly, like ruins giving rise to a towering palace, a commanding view as a lion pounces on a rabbit.”
Of course, Wu knew such vague descriptions were useless. Fan Changhai listened but gained nothing. As for why Wu only discussed the opening and middle game, it was not out of secrecy. Wu had never played a game with the child lasting more than two hundred moves. The proud Wu could hardly bear to say more.
Wu had risen to fame in the capital and had no wish for Fan Changhai to steal his spotlight. He secretly hoped Fan would suffer a crushing defeat. In short, Wu Congxian, the ninth dan master of the current Go world, could afford to lose to the rumored genius from the Astronomical Bureau. Such a loss would be like a top martial artist losing to a terrestrial immortal—no shame in it. But he absolutely could not lose too badly to Fan Changhai. It was like Li Chungan losing to Wang Xianzhi, who then lost to Xu Fengnian. One loss meant total defeat.
Fan Changhai’s “slowness” was only relative to the lightning-fast “Little Bookshelf.” An hour later, after Fan Changhai’s prolonged contemplation over several moves, he suddenly made a decisive, swift move that determined the outcome. The child, usually carefree, looked at his opponent for the first time, no longer leaning on his cheek or glancing around. He sat upright, but instead of looking at the board, he fixed his gaze on Fan Changhai, who was now rolling up his sleeve.
None of the onlookers, not even Wu Congxian, could fully grasp the brilliance of that move. The others watching were equally lost. Jin Lanting couldn’t help but whisper to Wu, who dared not speculate.
Sun Yin rubbed his earlobes and yawned. Song Keli narrowed his eyes, lips tightly pressed. Chen Wang studied the young Director’s expression. Li Jifu cautiously glanced at the emperor, frowning and leaning forward. Yan Chiji leaned toward his sister, whispering.
If we include the composed Fan Changhai, excluding Emperor Zhao Zhuan, Empress Yan Dongwu, and the young Director, there were four from Beiliang present under the green parasol tree in the Hanlin Academy: Chen Wang, Sun Yin, Yan Chiji, and Jin Lanting. From Jiangnan was Wu Congxian; from Guangling, Fan Changhai; from Liangdao, Li Jifu; and from the capital, Song Keli. Thus, it seemed the current emperor held a more open attitude toward Beiliang than his predecessor.
The emperor watched with interest as the “Little Bookshelf” for the first time showed a fierce expression toward someone. He intervened, “Let’s pause the game. You two can continue later. Little Bookshelf, Fan Changhai, make this a match for the ages. If the endgame is even more brilliant, I’ll have the court’s finest painters immortalize it. I must attend a small court assembly now. If I’m late, the Unswerving Elder will scold me endlessly.”
Jin Lanting, dressed in purple official robes, quickly bowed and cleared a path for the emperor and empress.
The Emperor, holding the Empress’s hand with a gentle smile, departed, leaving only Yan Chiji to see them off. Jin Lanting, serving as Vice Minister of Rites, was also to attend the small court assembly where all the officials wore purple robes. Yet since the Emperor had not summoned him, he naturally could not cling too closely to the imperial side, lest it seem like he was riding on the Emperor’s prestige. After the three “family members” left first, Jin deliberately walked alongside Wu Congxian out of the Hanlin Academy for a while. Wu, who was observing government affairs at the Ministry of Rites, had always been favored by Jin over Li Jifu, who, though ranked higher in the palace examination, was quiet and reserved. Jin held Wu, a core member of their poetry society, in high regard, and regarded Gao Tingshu—who had already made a name for himself at the Ministry of War—even more highly.
Yan Dongwu whispered softly, “Why do you place so much trust in Fan Changhou?”
The Emperor turned to the Empress with a wink and quietly replied, “Competing in Go is merely a pastime for pleasure. What difference do ninth or tenth dan make to the nation? But even the Prince of Jing’an, Zhao Xun, has a blind Go master like Lu Xu. As the Son of Heaven, how can I not have a tenth-dan Go master by my side?”
Yan Dongwu couldn’t help but smile, “Are you actually sulking about this? Your Majesty, are you still a child?”
The Emperor feigned a hurt expression, “So I’ve already grown old in your eyes?”
Remembering her younger brother Yan Chiji was still following behind, Yan Dongwu lightly coughed, while the Emperor laughed heartily, unbothered. He deliberately slowed his pace, allowing his young brother-in-law—who had suffered setbacks and frustrations in Jibei—to catch up before softly consoling him, “As for what happened in Jibei, I won’t try to persuade you. I just want you not to rush. I heard from your sister that you no longer wish to remain at the Ministry of War. Where do you want to go instead? The Ministry of Rites or the Ministry of Personnel?”
Before Yan Dongwu could speak, the Emperor tightened his grip on her hand slightly, forcing her to swallow back her words.
Yan Chiji, clearly somewhat intimidated by his increasingly authoritative older sister, hesitated before quietly saying, “Your Majesty, I wish to come to the Hanlin Academy. There are many books here.”
The Emperor widened his eyes and said, “When there’s no one else around, call me brother-in-law! But coming to the Hanlin Academy is fine. However, you must start as a junior eunuch official first. Otherwise, I could easily appoint you as a senior eunuch, but your temperament is too gentle, and you’re the kind of person who never seeks to compete. You’ll surely be sidelined and ignored by the senior scholars. These aged literary men are different from officials in the Six Ministries; they won’t care that you’re the Emperor’s brother-in-law.”
Yan Chiji simply replied with a soft “Okay.”
The Emperor turned to Yan Dongwu with a gentle smile and said, “You two siblings should chat more. I, as an outsider, shall not stand in your way.”
As the Emperor gradually walked further away, accompanied by Song Tanglu, the most senior eunuch in the empire, Yan Dongwu quietly asked, “Why didn’t you return the item you gave me to that person?”
Yan Chiji’s face paled slightly, and he nervously replied, “I haven’t seen Feng Ge-er at all.”
She snapped, “Don’t speak!”
Startled, Yan Chiji carefully asked, “Then should I secretly destroy it?”
She immediately flared up in anger but forced herself to suppress it, her expression darkening and brightening by turns. Finally, she gritted her teeth and said, “Keep it hidden well!”
Yan Chiji lowered his head, crestfallen.
After calming herself, Yan Dongwu softened her tone and praised him, “It was good that you didn’t mention wanting to go to the Ministry of Rites or the Ministry of Personnel.”
Standing face to face with her younger brother, she adjusted his collar and gently said, “Remember one thing: the honorable posthumous titles of Wen Zheng, Wen Zhong, and Wen Gong must all come from the Hanlin Academy!”
Yan Chiji timidly replied, “Sister, I really didn’t think that much.”
Yan Dongwu curled her fingers and tapped his forehead lightly, a faint smile returning to her face, “You, simple-minded as you are, still have good fortune.”
As Yan Chiji seemed to want to say something but held back, Yan Dongwu clearly guessed his thoughts and shook her head, “Don’t meddle in palace affairs. Go back now. I have a feeling that those young people in that courtyard now will…”
She stopped speaking, lifting her gaze to the sun, which was dazzling and slightly blinding.
Yan Chiji returned to the courtyard, under the green parasol tree, where the child was asking coldly, “Who taught you Go?”
Fan Changhou smiled and replied, “Since the age of four, I have studied Go from ancient records and ancient players.”
The child pointed at the final move on the Go board and said, “Ancient players couldn’t have made such a move!”
Fan Changhou calmly replied, “If we modern players cannot surpass the ancients, how can we face future generations? It’s true that I learned from the ancients, but when it’s my turn to play, I must not be confined by their legacy.”
The child snorted coldly, glancing at the remaining pieces on the board, “If it weren’t for the incident at the Astronomical Bureau that distracted my mind, I wouldn’t have given you the chance to play such a decisive move today! Come to the Zhaixing Pavilion at the Astronomical Bureau tomorrow!”
Fan Changhou remained noncommittal.
The prematurely aged child ran off in big strides, and only at that moment did he show some of the childishness befitting his age.
The little bookshelf, who had lived in the Astronomical Bureau since childhood, hurriedly ran to find the Empress, whom he loved most. Unlike the child’s domineering manner when playing Go, he showed a youthful smile upon seeing Yan Dongwu, like a child meeting a beloved older sister.
Yan Dongwu gently ruffled the little bookshelf’s hair and said with affection, “It’s difficult for you. The Astronomical Bureau has suffered such a great disaster, and the Emperor still made you play Go. Later, I’ll scold him for you.”
In the recent, tightly sealed incident, more than eight hundred guards had died in battle. Most of them were elite soldiers of the imperial guards, not to mention dozens of experts who wore golden carp pouches. Especially the latter, during the previous escort of “a certain object” to Guangling Circuit, over a hundred top martial artists who had been pardoned and recruited by the Ministry of Justice were mysteriously killed. The Zhao Gou organization had already suffered heavy losses, and this loss was undoubtedly adding insult to injury. But compared to the true loss—the death of all the cultivators within the Astronomical Bureau—the deaths of the martial experts were nothing at all.
These so-called immortals of the world included many experts with the ability to manipulate the Dao, and their existence was indispensable to the Liyang imperial court. They themselves were a grand deterrent symbolizing the majesty of Heaven’s Way.
The Emperor, as the one chosen by Heaven’s Mandate, bore the Heavenly Command.
Yet all the northern Liyang cultivators who supported the imperial lineage perished in that bloody conflict!
Why had the current Emperor, who always regarded Go as merely a “minor pastime,” hastily relocated the Hanlin Academy? And why had he personally promoted Fan Changhou, the tenth-dan Go master? Was it merely to divert the attention of his ministers and suppress the ripple effects of the upheaval that had shaken the entire capital?
Yan Dongwu had also personally witnessed the “Fourth Prince,” usually gentle and refined, locking himself in the imperial study for an entire night. When he emerged, even the senior eunuch Song Tanglu dared not approach him. She had no choice but to step forward herself and bandage his bloodied left hand.
The little bookshelf shook his head and said, “The Director said that everyone must die, so I’m not sad. If it weren’t for the fact that I still have to play three games for the Director against someone, I wouldn’t mind dying there either.”
In his heart, the child silently added, “Even though the old man has died, perhaps his apprentice has already appeared.”
He would never tell anyone this—not even his beloved Empress sister.
Yan Dongwu, half-annoyed and half-amused, said, “Don’t say such ominous things. You’re still so young. Just live well.”
The little bookshelf chuckled and said, “I want to eat osmanthus cakes.”
Yan Dongwu took his small hand and walked within the palace, saying, “That will have to wait until autumn, so you must live well until then.”
Inside the Hanlin Academy, as Yan Chiji approached, he noticed a subtle atmosphere. The highest-ranking officials, Chen Wang and Li Jifu, were chatting aside. The once fiery debater from the Imperial Academy, Sun Yin, was sprawled on a stone table, while the tenth-dan Go master Fan Changhou was meticulously reviewing the game with him.
Yan Chiji had already stopped his steps when he suddenly noticed Song Keli smiling at him from a distance. Yan Chiji smiled in understanding and walked forward.
In the second year of the Xiangfu era, springtime, on this day, there were six people within this small courtyard:
Chen Wang, Sun Yin, Song Keli, Fan Changhou, Li Jifu, and Yan Chiji.
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