Dong—dong—
The drumbeat rolled like thunder through Chang'an. The sun sank behind the mountains and woke ten thousand lamps across the city.
Having struck the last of the evening drums, Xu Buling sat down on the floor beside the desk in the Bell and Drum Tower, steadied the hem of his sleeve with his left hand, and slowly began grinding ink.
Rice paper lay flat across the small desk, a Qingtian jade paperweight mirroring the sea of Chang'an's lights, a single dim lamp set at the desk's edge.
Tap, tap—
Light footsteps sounded from inside the Bell and Drum Tower.
Xu Buling's ear twitched. He set down the ink stick and tilted his head slightly:
"Who's there?"
"...My lord Heir, it's me..."
The lanterns under the eaves swayed in the wind. Inside the bell tower, Song Yufu, in a jacket and skirt, came picking her way out with her hem lifted, a teacher's ruler in her hand and her face set in a deliberately stern expression—except the flicker of panic in her eyes gave away just how nervous she was.
Xu Buling went back to grinding his ink:
"No time."
At that, a spark of annoyance rose in Song Yufu's eyes. She pressed her lips together, walked over to the desk, and said solemnly, ruler in hand:
"...How can you talk like that... I... I'm your teacher..."
Xu Buling narrowed his eyes slightly and turned his head toward Song Yufu.
Song Yufu flinched, held the ruler up against her chest, and said, a little nervously, "My father is the Grand Libationer of the Imperial College. If you dare hit me... you'll be in real trouble..."
Xu Buling's eyes narrowed. "Threatening me?"
Song Yufu shook her head, setting the dangling ornaments in her hair trembling. "No. I only came to talk to you about the rules..." She took little steps up to the desk and looked at him the way a schoolmaster looks at a pupil.
Xu Buling shook his head slightly, kept grinding, and said flatly:
"The person who can lay down rules for me hasn't been born yet."
"Rules aren't laid down by any one person—they already exist... Great Yue has stood for two hundred years. Sixty years ago, after the Hundred Yue and Great Qi were pacified, the Imperial College was established here in Chang'an, and the rules were set..."
Xu Buling's sword-straight brows knit slightly. "Do you know how Great Qi became Northern Qi? How the Hundred Yue became Southern Yue?"
Song Yufu had read deeply since childhood, so she knew it all by heart. "Emperor Wenzong honored the military and promoted commanders from poor families; he expanded the martial examinations, and the realm's strength swelled. In Emperor Xiaozong's reign, the great general Xu Lie rose from scout to win one extraordinary merit after another; at forty he was made General Who Guards the Realm, and he led one million two hundred thousand troops south against the Hundred Yue and north against Great Qi. From then on the Central Plains were one..."
"Who is Xu Lie?"
"Your grandfather."
"Then what rules are you going to lay down for me?"
Xu Buling raised his eyes to Song Yufu.
Song Yufu hesitated a moment, then said quietly, "It's precisely because Prince Su's forebears earned merits that overshadow the ages and won Great Yue a domain ten thousand li wide that you, born the Heir, must keep to the rules your elders set—you can't throw your weight around and ride roughshod over people...
...That bell, the Never Forget Bell, was cast on General Xu's orders when he took Chang'an, so that the people of Great Yue and every officer of the court would never forget the hundred years our forebears spent swallowing humiliation and bearing their burdens. Sending you to strike the bell means the same thing."
Xu Buling drew a breath and couldn't be bothered to answer.
Seeing him silent, Song Yufu pressed her advantage and said earnestly, ruler in hand:
"Morning reading at the chen hour for half an hour is the rule, and princes' heirs and poor scholars should be treated exactly alike. Fine, you came a little late—but why did you have to hurt someone?
A hall of learning is a solemn place. When General Xu himself came here, he first unbuckled his sword and dismounted, out of respect. You... you show no regard for propriety, you carry on like a libertine, you're wild and ungovernable..."
On and on she went, a whole string of unflattering words.
Xu Buling was rather pleased with the assessment. Aunt Lu would no doubt be gratified to hear it too.
He gave the earnestly lecturing schoolmistress a cold look:
"Do I need a reason to hit someone?"
"Of course you do... no, wait, you can't hit people at all."
Song Yufu tapped the ruler against her palm and paced back and forth in front of the desk:
"There's a saying: 'A gentleman uses his tongue, not his fists.' If you had a problem with Master Xiao, you could have argued your case and won him over with reason. Settling things with your fists is what jianghu ruffians do. Besides, it isn't that Master Xiao couldn't beat you—he didn't hit back out of respect for your station and to keep the rules. You were in the wrong from the start..."
Xu Buling liked quiet, and the chatter was making it impossible to copy anything. He set down his wolf-hair brush and looked up:
"Miss Song, have you got nothing better to do?"
Song Yufu pursed her lips and stood up straight before the writing desk. "There's a saying: 'A teacher for a day is a father for life.' I help my father lead your morning reading, so I'm half a teacher. In the Record of Learning you're copying there's a line—'The hard thing is a strict teacher; only when the teacher is strict is the Way honored, and only when the Way is honored do the people learn to respect learning.' It means you must honor your teacher and value the Way..."
Xu Buling nodded and stood up. "You've got it well memorized. Perfect." He walked toward Song Yufu.
Song Yufu looked bewildered. Holding the ruler against her chest, she backed away in tiny steps until she reached the tower wall with nowhere left to go, and said nervously:
"You can't hit me, or... or they'll make you stay another seven days, and with these seven that makes half a month..."
"Why would I hit you?"
Xu Buling came up in front of her and tilted his head. "Copy out the Record of Learning ten times, or I throw you down."
Song Yufu glanced back. The tower stood over three zhang tall, and she shivered. Then she thought it over and shook her head firmly. "No. You were set to copy the Record of Learning so you'd know your fault and mend it. How could I do your copying for you?"
Xu Buling nodded and raised his right hand.
Song Yufu pressed her lips together—she had some spine after all—shut her eyes and turned her face aside with a look of 'Go on, hit me, just beat me to death and be done with it!' But a moment later she felt herself go weightless. She opened her eyes and found she had been hoisted up by the back collar and was being carried toward the small desk.
"Eek—"
Song Yufu was a full head shorter than Xu Buling. Her embroidered shoes kicked in the air, sending ripples through her skirts; the collar dug painfully into her throat. She raised the ruler:
"My lord Heir, how can you do this? I... I really will hit you..."
Xu Buling set her down beside the small desk, his eyes cool:
"Last chance. Are you copying or not?"
Seeing that reason was getting her nowhere, Song Yufu pursed her lips, lowered her head, and gave a small huff. "I won't lower myself to argue with a boor like you..." She turned to walk out—and found herself airborne once more, flung straight out of the Bell and Drum Tower, her skirts whirling up the drifting snow.
"Ah—!!"
A shriek.
Song Yufu, in her jacket and skirt, went white as a sheet. Her arms and legs flailed wildly, and she watched helplessly as she sailed out over the wall.
The Bell and Drum Tower stood about three stories high, with flagstones below. What a fall like that would do to a person needed no imagining.
Song Yufu's mind went blank with terror. Her hands and feet flailed a few times, and she screwed her eyes shut.
But a long while passed and no pain came. She cracked her eyes open, found herself hanging in empty air with a long drop beneath her, and hurriedly squeezed them shut again. Her voice shook:
"Let me go..."
Xu Buling released his right hand.
"Ah—no, not that, pull me up..." she sobbed.
The sound of weeping rose.
Xu Buling hauled Song Yufu back up and set her down beside the desk again:
"Copying or not?"
Song Yufu's face was chalk-white, her cheeks streaked with tears, the hand that held the ruler still trembling. It took her a long while to get her breath back. She pressed her lips together, was just about to say something, and saw Xu Buling lift his hand. Terrified, she snatched up the wolf-hair brush and began writing out the Record of Learning, seven parts aggrieved to three parts frightened, and muttered something barely audible:
"You go too far. What kind of gentleman does things like this..."
"I'm no gentleman. I'm a good-for-nothing prodigal young master—a kua-kua young master."
"A prodigal young master, you mean..."
"Heh. Good, so you know," Xu Buling said.
The hour was still early, but the palace lanterns were already hung throughout the palaces. Xiao Ting hurried through the covered walkway into one of the halls; palace maids and eunuchs waited outside, bowing in silence.
A brazier warmed the hall, and through the curling incense a beautiful woman in palace dress lay on her side on a soft couch, resting. Over a warm yellow gown she wore a short vest, and a phoenix crown sat on her head. Her figure was round and lustrous without being plump, her eyes like apricot kernels; long years in power had left a touch of majesty about her. She was elegant and splendid.
Xiao Ting came into the hall, threw himself down in front of the couch, and wailed, pointing at a cheek swollen up like a pig's head:
"Aunt, look—Ting'er's been beaten up!"
The beautiful woman, reclining with her eyes half shut, was startled awake. Her brows drew together in displeasure:
"Xiao Ting, in two more years you'll be old enough for the capping ceremony. A man's tears do not fall lightly—what kind of behavior is this, sniveling like a child?"
Xiao Ting, snot and tears together, hung over the edge of the couch:
"Xu Buling gets to hit me, so why can't I cry? And Auntie won't even let me hit him back..."
The Empress Dowager opened her eyes, waved the palace maids away, and sat up a little straighter:
"Xu Buling hit you? What did you go and provoke him for?"
"Huh?"
Xiao Ting's tearful face froze, then turned all wounded grievance. "Auntie, how can you say that to Ting'er? I was honestly reciting poetry at the Imperial College, just getting into the swing of it, when Xu Buling popped up out of nowhere and gave me a good beating..."
The Empress Dowager was the legitimate daughter of the Xiao clan of Huainan and long accustomed to the heights of power; from Xiao Ting's expression alone she could tell something didn't add up. But he was a nephew of her own clan, after all, so she did not press him. She only said gently:
"Last year Xu Buling was ambushed and poisoned by thugs on the Wei River. Not one part in ten of his martial skill remains; all he can do is drink himself into a stupor to hold down the torment of ants gnawing at his heart. After a blow like that, any ordinary martial man would have gone mad. A bad temper is only natural. He gave you a few hits, he didn't take your life. By seniority you're his elder—his uncle. What is there to hold against him?"
Xiao Ting was puzzled. "Auntie, I heard that once the Dragon-Locking Gu poison is in you, even the greatest master becomes a cripple. And yet the tales of how Xu Buling killed those Imperial Guards a few days ago—they say his skill was downright supernatural..."
The Empress Dowager gave a faint sniff. "A realm ten thousand li wide ought to produce heroes in every generation. It was settled long ago that Xu Buling's martial skill reaches the heavens; he once boasted that he could climb the nine heavens to cut down the moon and dive the four seas to seize the dragon. Trading blows with a few marketplace nobodies is beneath him. Did you expect a handful of small fry to give him a beating?"
Xiao Ting frowned. "If a tenth of his skill is this formidable, then if the poison were cured, who in the world could restrain him?"
A trace of disappointment entered the Empress Dowager's eyes. "So what if a common brute in his rage splatters blood a hundred paces? From ancient times to now, has any man who accomplished great things done it on brute courage alone? A man who knows nothing of strategy cannot even command troops; holding off a thousand by yourself makes you nothing but a rather formidable pawn."
Xiao Ting nodded. "True enough. Xu Buling is reckless and hotheaded, he doesn't even crack a book all day, and he hasn't the faintest grasp of poetry or letters. All that martial prowess and nothing else—he really will never accomplish anything great."
"Good that you understand. I'll have a word with Lu Hongluan and tell her to take Xu Buling in hand. Off you go."
Xiao Ting rubbed his pig's head of a face. Resentment still burned in him, but with the Empress Dowager refusing to punish Xu Buling there was nothing he could do. He slunk away in sour defeat...