Jin Sanlang, whose every move could draw the attention of the imperial capital, had begun to grow a beard. Considering his age, barely past thirty, he had no real need for such a gesture unless he wished to emulate Chancellor Zhang and cultivate the image of a refined, bearded scholar. Yet it was only after he became the Right Sacrificial Official of the Imperial Academy, working alongside Master Yao Baifeng—the revered authority in Neo-Confucianism—that Jin Lanting felt the need to grow a beard as a symbol of his aspirations. His wife, Lady Xu, who had received imperial honors through her husband’s rise, meticulously groomed his beard daily, striving for perfection.
Jin Lanting had risen swiftly from being a minor official in a small county under the jurisdiction of Beiliang, first promoted beyond standard protocol to become a Huangmen official, then appointed as the Emperor’s personal chronicler. Before long, he had become a towering figure in the literary and scholarly circles as a senior official of the Imperial Academy, wielding the power to shape the fates of scholars throughout the realm. Every morning, Jin would wait silently until the sky turned pale with dawn, his vision gradually sharpening, before departing his mansion in a carriage bound for the Imperial Academy. Occasionally, he would lift the curtain and glimpse the faces of people lining the streets—reverent, passionate—filling him with a sense of pride and purpose befitting a true man of greatness. Especially when his carriage entered the Academy grounds, and he bent to lift the curtain, stepping down from the carriage, he often felt as though he were in a dream. Once, he had gone door to door offering handmade Xuan paper he crafted himself, only to be refused time and again. Now, though many desired it, Jin Lanting had no wish to give even a single sheet away.
Yet Jin, the Right Sacrificial Official, did not allow himself to grow complacent. Having lived in the capital for over two years, he had witnessed many who had risen swiftly to wealth and power, only to fall just as quickly. Take for instance the Song family, once boasting three outstanding members. The two senior scholars of the family—one driven to death by anger, the other dismissed from office. The Song family’s young prodigy, who once required Jin to exert every ounce of effort to curry favor with, had completely vanished from the political stage. The more Jin understood the treacherous and unpredictable nature of court politics, the more he cherished the few benefactors who had supported him during his years of quiet endurance and humility. One such person was Huan Wen, the former Left Sacrificial Official, who had been among the few willing to accept Jin’s homemade Xuan paper. Now Huan had risen to become a Grand Secretary in the Wenshiting Academy and succeeded Sun Xiji, the former leader of the remnants, as the Left Deputy of the Menxia Province.
There was another benefactor Jin never revealed, not even to Lady Xu, his wife of many years. He never spoke of this person, not even a single word. Jin vividly remembered that morning court session, when all he received were cold stares and mocking remarks—except from that senior Huangmen official, who patted his shoulder and offered a few words of genuine encouragement.
A scholar dies for the one who understands him.
As for the recommendation letter from the Prince of Beiliang back then, Jin never spoke of it, and in private, he treated it as a forbidden topic. Should anyone foolishly bring it up—be they the son of a minister or the heir of a general—Jin would immediately storm off in anger, severing all ties forever, never to share a table or even exchange a word with them again. Deep in his heart, Jin never considered that crippled Xu as having done him any favor by recommending him. The true legitimacy of the realm lay with the Zhao family. Even if Xu had been enfeoffed as a king of a different surname, even if his title were hereditary and passed down unbroken, how long could such wealth and power truly last in the ever-shifting tides of court politics? A mere glance through the pages of history showed countless noble families, even those possessing iron scrolls inscribed with the Emperor’s promise that they would not be executed unless guilty of treason—yet still, they were accused of rebellion and their entire clans wiped out.
Out with the old, in with the new. Jin Lanting had moved into a new residence, a double blessing. The new residence of the Right Sacrificial Official had been bestowed by the Emperor himself. It had once been the mansion of a royal family member of the Liyang dynasty, a place of great splendor two centuries ago in the capital city of Taian. However, since the family had lost their hereditary privileges and were left with only an honorary military title, living in such a grand estate had become somewhat improper. Yet, as they had committed no grave offenses, convincing them to relocate was difficult. Fortunately, when word spread that Jin Sanlang of the Imperial Academy would be moving in, they felt honored and, having received a generous sum from the imperial court, willingly vacated the premises.
The current Emperor valued frugality, so the dishes prepared by the Imperial Kitchen became mere decorations. Later, upon the Empress’s suggestion, a daily menu was created, specifying which dishes were to be given as gifts to various individuals—such as the senior concubines, princes, princesses, high-ranking officials, and military commanders stationed in the capital. Today, a senior eunuch personally delivered a thermally insulated sandalwood box wrapped in yellow silk to Jin’s new mansion. Jin ate everything without leaving a single scrap. At the end, he humbly requested that the eunuch allow him to keep a pair of blackwood chopsticks—items of little monetary value. The eunuch, discreetly handed a piece of sheep-fat jade hidden in his sleeve, gleamed with golden luster and fine texture, especially rare for the natural yellow jade formation at its tip. It was clear at a glance that it was no ordinary trinket. Keeping a pair of chopsticks was no act of Transgression, but being gifted a treasured item by Jin Sanlang would not only avoid accusations of corruption but instead enhance one’s reputation. How could the eunuch not beam with delight? From that day on, he viewed the Right Sacrificial Official, who was already nearing the rank of Grand Secretary at the age of thirty, with even greater favor.
Lady Xu, however, felt pained to see her family heirloom jade given away for a pair of blackwood chopsticks worth only a few coins. In the past, when they lived in the provinces and she came from a powerful family, she would have scolded him mercilessly. Now, she dared not.
With his beard grown, Jin Lanting appeared more mature.
Lady Xu carefully asked, “My lord, why not pay a visit to the Chancellor during this New Year season? You are close to Elder Tantan, and the Left Deputy shares the same teacher and has been lifelong friends with the Chancellor. No one would dare speak ill of your visit.”
Jin replied impatiently, “What do you know, woman? Don’t meddle in affairs you don’t understand!”
Lady Xu smiled meekly, gathering her courage but still too afraid to argue. Once, her parents had looked down on her husband, born of a minor scholarly family, but now that they had moved to the imperial capital, they could only bow and scrape before him.
Even in the intimacy of their bedchamber, Lady Xu did her utmost to please him, yet Jin’s demeanor grew ever more aloof. She often felt that the way he looked at her was no different from how he regarded servants or maids.
In an age where women were considered as worthless as grass, it was not difficult for a man to treat a woman as a woman once he had achieved success. The true challenge was to treat her as a human being.
Suddenly, Lady Xu recalled something that had troubled her parents greatly, and it unsettled her deeply—fortune had only just been gained, could it so easily slip away?
Mustering her courage, Lady Xu sat beside Jin, leaning close, her ample bosom brushing against his arm as she softly whispered, “My lord, I heard that in the Imperial Academy…”
Jin calmly pushed her away, sneering, “What? Are you frightened by my words—‘The people are the most precious, the state comes next, and the ruler is the least important’? You wouldn’t understand. We don’t see eye to eye. Your parents are narrow-minded; tell them not to visit me so often.”
Lady Xu lowered her head meekly, “Understood.”
She rose and left, heartbroken.
Jin paid no heed to her departure, his eyes fixed on the blackwood chopsticks, a smirk curling his lips.
A scholar attains noble rank, presiding over half the empire.
There are countless beauties, but only one Rivers and mountains—only one realm to rule.
Alone, Jin reached for the chopsticks, mimicking the motion of picking up food and bringing it to his mouth, then burst into a fit of wild laughter.
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