Huang Zong got up early in the morning, and several Confucian scholars approached to greet him, their faces brimming with joy: “Master, this is wonderful news!”
“Oh? What good news might that be?”
Huang Zong took a towel, dipped it in hot water, and slowly wiped his face, his every movement composed and unhurried. This kind of self-cultivation left the other scholars feeling inferior.
The Prince of Ding has issued a summons for you! The heir is now of age for education, and given your literary talent and reputation, who else but you could possibly become the Grand Tutor?
Although Wu Zhi employed Confucian scholars based on their practical abilities, many of these scholars still harbored ambitions for success and fame. Seeing that the path to the Prince of Ding was blocked, turning their attention to the heir and placing their bets on the future seemed perfectly reasonable.
“Speak carefully!”
Upon hearing this, Huang Zong’s expression changed: “The heir is not yet the Crown Prince. How can the title of Grand Tutor be discussed?”
The scholars exchanged glances and could only awkwardly reply with a forced smile: “The heir is a prince, and the teacher of a prince could barely be called a Grand Tutor…”
In reality, they naturally understood the distinction, but the heir’s current status, arguably even more significant than the emperor himself within the palace, made such slip-ups inevitable.
Seeing this, Huang Zong sighed inwardly, realizing that Wu Zhi’s legitimacy had already taken deep root in Dingzhou. The idea of disloyalty was practically common knowledge.
Yet, though it was common knowledge, everything remained calm, and many were even delighted. Even Confucian scholars unconsciously accepted the situation, regarding the son of the opposing side as the legitimate heir. This influence was terrifying and awe-inspiring, enough to send chills down one’s spine.
“The hour grows late; someone from the palace has already arrived to escort you, Master!”
The scholars bowed once more.
“Very well!”
Huang Zong nodded and stepped outside the academy. Sure enough, a carriage drawn by two horses was waiting. Though the exterior was not particularly luxurious, the interior was extremely comfortable, and the ride was almost entirely free of jolts.
“Master Huang, greetings! I am Wang He, an official of the Prince of Ding’s household. Here is your pass for entry and exit—please keep it safe!”
A young man dressed in black robes, with a calm demeanor, smiled and bowed, handing over a small food box: “You must have risen early and not yet had breakfast. Please have something to eat!”
“Thank you!”
Huang Zong opened the box and saw mostly steamed buns and pastries—nothing liquid that might spill. He picked up a piece of white rabbit cake and tasted it, finding it delicious. The other small dishes were also light and clearly tailored to his tastes.
“These were prepared by several northern cooks from the Prince’s kitchen. I hope they suit your taste, Master!”
Wang He explained with a smile.
“Have you studied?”
After a few exchanges, Huang Zong found Wang He’s knowledge and insight impressive, unlike the roughness of an ordinary official.
“I spent three years in study and was fortunate enough to pass the examination. Compared to my peers, however, I am but a glowworm’s light, how dare I compare myself to the sun and moon? Being entrusted with minor duties here in the Prince’s household is already more than enough for me!”
At this time, officials who served their term or achieved merit could be promoted and attain official status.
Especially as the bureaucratic system became increasingly refined, all officials, unless specially exempted, were required to serve at the grassroots level. Thus, no one considered such a post shameful.
In particular, those serving in the Prince’s household were close to centers of power. If fortunate enough to gain the favor of a noble, rapid advancement was nothing unusual.
When Wang He referred to himself as a glowworm’s light, he was being greatly modest.
“I have heard that the scale of the imperial examinations under Wu Zhen has been expanding year by year. Now I see that even a minor official of this rank possesses such ability—it is truly awe-inspiring…”
Observing a single leaf and understanding the season, Huang Zong felt a deep sense of reverence.
The most important aspect of any regime is its ability to execute its will, and that ability lies in having an elite bureaucratic class.
In the early days of a dynasty, when politics were clear and upright, decrees from above could be effectively implemented, naturally leading to peace and prosperity throughout the land. But in times of chaos, corruption became rampant. Even when the court wished to provide relief during natural disasters, by the time aid passed through the hands of corrupt officials, layer upon layer of embezzlement left barely a fraction reaching the victims—this was a clear sign of a dynasty’s decline.
Now, with such a high-caliber group of officials handling grassroots administration, at the very least, communication between upper and lower levels would be smooth, ensuring effective governance.
In times of war, this system could mobilize the entire apparatus, uniting the people and leadership in purpose, making victory inevitable.
Wang He, of course, had no idea that from his small role as a minor official, Huang Zong had seen so much. After traveling a while longer, the carriage slowly came to a stop before the Prince of Ding’s mansion.
Originally the governor’s residence, the palace had been renovated with an emphasis on frugality. Though not particularly luxurious in appearance, it exuded a dignified and solemn air.
Especially around the palace, elite soldiers patrolled constantly, clad in full armor, their swords and bows gleaming—clearly first-rate troops, capable of fighting wolves and tigers, true heroes of the army.
As Huang Zong stepped down from the carriage, he felt several pairs of eyes scrutinizing him from the shadows, sending a shiver through his entire body.
“Your passes!”
A squad leader stepped forward, carefully inspecting their entry tokens before allowing them through.
Huang Zong’s token was collected, clearly a one-time item, which caused him a slight pang of regret and further heightened his sense of caution.
“Please wait in the side hall for now, Master!”
Wang He led Huang Zong to a side chamber, where a charming and approachable servant girl promptly brought a cup of tea. The tea was as green as jade, emitting a fragrant aroma that instantly refreshed the mind and spirit.
Even Huang Zong, after taking a small sip, felt his spirits lift: “Excellent tea!”
As someone who valued refinement in food and drink, and as a master of literature with the elegance of a noble family, he had never encountered such a tea—neither its fragrance nor appearance were familiar to him.
“If the guest enjoys it, allow me to inform the overseer and have a couple of jin sent with you when you leave!”
Seeing his appreciation, the girl smiled, her laughter like the ringing of silver bells in the small hall.
“Oh? Thank you…”
Huang Zong slightly raised his head and saw that the girl was about fifteen or sixteen years old, her hair tied in two buns, a bright red beauty mark on her forehead. She had dimples when she smiled, and despite her youthful appearance, there was a subtle allure in her expression. He realized that this girl possessed an innate charm, and outside the palace, she might well have become the concubine of some noble family. Here in the palace, however, she was merely a servant girl assigned to hospitality.
Fortunately, Huang Zong possessed great self-restraint. Though slightly surprised inwardly, he maintained a composed expression, taking another sip of tea. A cool thread flowed down his throat, and once in his stomach, it gradually warmed, spreading through his limbs and filling him with a profound sense of comfort and joy, causing him to marvel once more.
“This tea seems to contain spiritual energy… even in the immortal sects, such a treasure is not easily obtained. Yet here in the mansion of a mortal prince, such a divine delicacy exists amidst luxury and wealth…”
Yet Huang Zong’s tea tasting lasted a full two hours.
Only after the fifth pot of tea had been served did a clear voice finally sound: “Are you Master Huang?”
The voice was crisp, like the clinking of ice and jade, clearly not a woman’s but that of a young man.
Huang Zong looked up and saw a young man in a hemp robe enter casually, his demeanor relaxed and indifferent, as if nothing in the world could disturb him. Though he appeared to be no more than twenty, his eyes were as warm and refined as jade, filled with the wisdom of one who had seen all the world’s ways and traversed the red dust of ten thousand affairs.
He had met countless people in his life, but never had anyone given him such a feeling.
“That is I. Might you be Master Wu?”
Huang Zong quickly bowed.
He was a wise man and naturally understood that only the Prince of Ding himself or the legendary husband of the Prince could move so freely and casually within the palace grounds.
It was only now that he suddenly realized that his students had merely said that the Prince’s household had summoned him, and Wang He had only said that a senior official wished to see him, without specifying who.
Now it was clear that this sudden summons had come from Master Wu himself.
“Greetings, Master Wu!”
After Wu Ming nodded in confirmation, Huang Zong quickly bowed again.
To be honest, ever since Wu Zhi had gained fame across the land, the various lords and factions had never ceased their investigations into her. Naturally, Wu Ming, as her husband, could not escape scrutiny either.
However, he was usually elusive, like a dragon showing only its head. Most spies could uncover only the series of foolish deeds he had committed in his youth, leaving many lords puzzled.
But Huang Zong was well aware that this young man before him was no ordinary person.
Otherwise, how could the noble Prince of Ding have condescended to marry him, even taking Princess Duanrui as a concubine?
“Master Huang, you are a great Confucian scholar. There is no need for me to ask about scholarly matters!”
Wu Ming smiled slightly: “I have summoned you today indeed regarding the selection of a tutor for my son. I have one question—can you answer it?”
In his eyes, Huang Zong’s cultivation was quite good. At the very least, his mastery of the Confucian “Moral Body” was complete; his title of great scholar was no empty honor.
However, if their philosophies did not align, he would not be chosen. Otherwise, if he corrupted his son’s upbringing, there would be no one to turn to for justice.
“Please, Master, ask your question!”
Huang Zong straightened his clothes and became solemn.
Our household has its own system, which is a blend of hegemonic and humane governance. Can one purely adopt Confucian law?
Wu Ming asked casually.
“This…”
Huang Zong hesitated. The answer was not difficult in itself, but it touched upon a choice of attitude and path.
Clearly, the other party would not accept the idea of “sole reverence for Confucianism.” Now he was asking whether Huang Zong would still insist on this stance.
At his level of cultivation, every word and action of a great scholar pointed directly to the heart. To lie would not even pass his own conscience.
“You need not hurry, Master. If you cannot answer now, go home and think it over. When you have your answer, come back and tell me!”
Wu Ming waved his hand, and two servant girls immediately stepped forward, gently ushering Huang Zong out.
Seeing this, Huang Zong sighed deeply, understanding that the Prince of Ding would certainly not allow him to be the sole tutor to the heir—it would be too easy to exert undue influence.
With no choice, he could only rise and take his leave.
As Wu Ming watched his retreating figure, he remained silent.
With his ability to discern auras and judge character, calling this Huang Zong here today was merely to take a look.
With one glance, any hidden intentions, ulterior motives, or secret alliances with ministers would be almost impossible to conceal within the flow of fate.
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