Chapter 157
Having just finished memorizing Master Li’s poems, Cui Xie arrived at Li Dongyang’s residence only to find his teacher in the middle of composing poetry—imperial verse, no less.
Master Li was seated before a white porcelain plate filled with fresh red bayberries, shaking his head and swaying slightly as he recited:
“Its chill bites the teeth, yet no trace of red dew lingers;
Within poetry, it lends the Jade Hall a crisp elegance.
Its name, derived from the cauldron of Fu, reaches far,
Its worth, rivaling the pearls of Sui…”
Seeing Cui Xie enter, Li Dongyang beckoned him, gesturing for him to try the delicacies prepared for today’s session.
Cui Xie had been in this world for two years but had never tasted fresh bayberries. Even in his past life, he had rarely bought this kind of expensive fruit. Yet he still remembered—they were a summer fruit, not something one should be eating in the chilly days of early winter.
He picked up a bayberry, admiring its fresh, glistening, jewel-like color, and found himself reluctant to eat it right away. Holding it in his palm, he sighed, “This truly is as precious as Sui pearls. To have bayberry in early winter—they must have been grown in a heated greenhouse. Which estate in the capital cultivated them? To make bayberry trees bear fruit in winter—that is a feat bordering on the miraculous.”
Li Dongyang smiled, “This isn’t some miraculous feat of cultivation in the capital. These were grown somewhere in Fujian—who knows how they managed it—and shipped here on ice. It’s rare enough that they’ve arrived still so fresh. Even if we built greenhouses in Beijing, we would not be able to grow bayberries—have you ever seen a bayberry tree? They grow several zhang tall, their thick canopies blocking out the sun. Their trunks are so thick that a person can wrap their arms around it—what kind of greenhouse could possibly hold one?”
He gestured broadly with his arms to demonstrate, then reminisced, “When weishi1 was young, my father returned to our ancestral home for the tomb-sweeping rites, and I had the chance to visit Jiangnan. That land is truly a haven of refined culture and splendid scenery…”
Splendid scenery, far beyond the famed ten views of Beijing or the eight sights of Tianjin—not to mention the West Cliff (Xiya) and the Pond of Accumulated Water2 near his own home. (TN: This is how his pseudonym Master of the Western Waters came about).
The 《Southward Travel Notes》 Li Dongyang had written in his youth still sat among Cui Xie’s study materials, filled with travelogues and poems reflecting on historical sites. Between them, there were also polished, elegant verses composed in response to the officials who had hosted him along the way—a far more romantic and refined take on travel writing than the sentimental modern essays tourists would pen today.
Cui Xie listened with a ‘hmm` sound, then popped the bayberry into his mouth. With a gentle press of his tongue, the fruit burst open, releasing a cool, sweet-tart juice that was incredibly refreshing.
It was undeniably fresh, but such a tribute was too precious. After eating just two, he wiped his hands with a handkerchief, feeling embarrassed to take any more.
Li Dongyang laughed, “This fruit may be rare, but the lecturers received a generous share, and I still have half a basket at home. This plate was set aside just for you. If you don’t want any more, have someone pack them up and take them home for your family to try.”
Imperial tributes bestowed by the Emperor like these weren’t something one could easily come by outside of the lecture days at the palace, but when they were offered, the court scholars never hesitated to take their share.
Cui Xie followed suit without reservation, thanking his teacher before asking, “Master was just reciting poetry, but was interrupted by met, would this not affect Master’s poetic mood?
Li Dongyang replied, “That was merely a poem commissioned by the Emperor that I composed when we received the tribute at the Hall of Literary Brilliance3. Just now, looking at the bayberries, I was mulling over it again. There’s no need to talk about disturbances or whatnot. But you arrived a moment too late and missed the first couplet. Let me recite it again—you can help me remember it. I’ll be compiling a collection later.”
The palace canal hastens forth boatloads of ice,
October’s bayberries arrive in the imperial capital…
The opening lines were delicate and elegant, but as an imperial commission, the closing couplet inevitably followed the standard formulaic expressions of gratitude to the throne.
Cui Xie sighed with some regret, “The ministerial style is a bit heavy—without the final words of thanks, the poem could be even more refined and transcendent.”
Li Dongyang shook his head slightly, indifferent. “What’s so vulgar about the ministerial tone? A poem written in service of the court must carry some of that grand ministerial manner—otherwise, it wouldn’t embody the proper majesty and dignity. If one does not write court poetry, then one must write reclusive-style poetry of tranquil retreat, filled with the spirit of the mountains and forests. These are the two essential styles a poet should cultivate.”
Master Li was born to be a Grand Secretary. Though the Chaling School took inspiration from the refined elegance of Tang poetry, he had never once looked down on the stately ministerial style.
A Grand Secretary’s taste naturally was higher than that of the ministerial style the court used, and Cui Xie, a mere jiansheng, dared not compare himself. He pulled out his graphite pencil, copied the poem onto paper, and casually tucked it into his sleeve pocket before asking, “If Teacher intends to compile a poetry collection, why not have it printed by the Peace of Mind Study? Last time, when Yang da-ren wrote that manuscript for the opera, didn’t Master also review the print? The quality was quite decent. This disciple could have Little Qi-ge carefully oversee this collection—printed on the finest mulberry paper, with your poetry accompanied by hand-painted illustrations of Master’s visage as the main focus…”
Li Dongyang stroked his cheek and asked, “Printed like that travelogue by County Magistrate Qi of Qian’an? I fear I’m not as handsome as him—if people see my portrait, they might lose interest in reading the poetry altogether.”
That’s nonsense! Even someone like Gao Xiaosong4 kept posting selfies on Weibo and hosting TV shows—his audience still followed him avidly, didn’t they? Li da-ren’s face was just a little long, it’s not like he was actually unattractive. And even if there were minor imperfections—wasn’t that what artistic retouching was for?
At the very least, Master Li was slim! And being slim covered for all sorts of aesthetic shortcomings.
Cui Xie earnestly persuaded him, “Master is the literary leader of this era—what scholar does not take pleasure in reading your poetry and essays? Word of mouth is far too slow a way to spread information, and errors or omissions are inevitable. What about the students in distant provinces, yearning for the chance to read your works? Besides, talent is what truly matters—looks are irrelevant. I’m also planning to print a collection of Director of Studies, Director Fei’s lectures from the Imperial College. Director Fei isn’t exactly a handsome man either, yet he has no qualms about having his portrait included in the publication.”
Master Li asked, “You’re printing his lecture notes? The ones you transcribed? Then why bring up appearances? Wouldn’t it just be your handwritten notes that need printing?”
Of course, the portraits needed to be included! A Imperial College Esteemed Teachers Lecture Series couldn’t be complete without official portraits of the scholars as a recognizable emblem. With their faces on the books, it would serve as authentication, prevent counterfeits, and ensure quality assurance—students could confidently purchase a complete set of renowned instructors’ teachings…
The more Cui Xie spoke, the more he convinced himself of the benefits. Even Li Dongyang was astonished, listening intently. After some thought, he finally grasped the key issue, grabbed Cui Xie by the arm, and asked, “I originally assumed you were printing these for the convenience of your fellow students in reviewing their studies. But from what you’re saying… could it be that you intend to profit off the Imperial College’s instructors’ lectures?”
“How could Master think that of me?” Cui Xie recoiled a few steps in shock, his face taking on the noble and sorrowful expression of an idealist misunderstood by the world. “Master was born exceptionally intelligent, raised in the capital, nurtured under the grace of the former emperor, and guided by top scholars from the prefectural academy—reading and comprehension came naturally to you. But do you know how difficult it was for students like me, struggling in rural villages just to find a decent tutor? In a full classroom of peers, few ever become xiucai; in an entire county, barely a handful would become juren.”
Wasn’t it all because the remote counties lacked good teachers to guide us ?!
No matter how meticulously the Four Books and Five Classics were printed, if the teachers were inadequate, students would still struggle to grasp the meaning.
Cui Xie sighed, his expression heavy with emotion. “When I studied in the countryside, even Teacher Lin’s explanations were sometimes vague. He would often tell us, ‘Read a book a hundred times, and its meaning will reveal itself.’ But at the Imperial College, the instructors’ teachings are profound and thorough—places where I had once misunderstood or misinterpreted the sages’ words, the instructors elucidated with clarity. And after studying under Master—”
He took a deep breath and suddenly recited from《The Doctrine of the Mean》, a passage he had just heard from Master Li on his way to the Li residence:
“How great is the path proper to the Sage! Vast and boundless, like overflowing water, it sends forth and nourishes all things, and rises up to the height of heaven.”
“When I studied under Teacher Lin back home, he merely explained that this meant ‘The Way of the Sage is supremely great, and only a sage can fully practice it.’ He told us that vast describes an expansive, flowing state, and rises means lofty, but for the rest, we had to rely on repeated recitation to seek true understanding.
“But when the Master explained this passage, it was elaborated in full detail: ‘Observe how it permeates Heaven and Earth—ever flowing, never stagnant; abundant and unceasing. In its workings, it nurtures all things, great and small, high and low, those that fly, those that burrow, those that move, those that grow—spring gives birth, summer fosters growth, autumn reaps, winter stores—all are manifestations of the Way.’”
“This student never thought of himself as dull-witted, but when I first learned this under Teacher Lin, I had no way of truly picturing what vast meant. Only after hearing your explanation did I understand—the Way is like the energies of Yin, Yang, and the Five Elements, filling the space between heaven and earth, existing without a single gap, shaping all things. We live within it, grasping only fragments of its essence, yet only the Sage comprehends it fully—thus it is called the Way of the Sage.”
Li Dongyang nodded in approval and satisfaction. “You recall it well.”
Cui Xie said, “Disciple can remember it well because Master explained it so clearly. But those in rural counties—no, even those who enter county academies and study under xiucai—may not be able to learn as clearly as I have. How many devoted scholars are delayed year after year in their studies, not because they lack diligence, but simply because they lack a great teacher? And so they will never match someone like me… who, in truth, is just an average student.”
Li Dongyang shook his head decisively. “You are far from an average student… Your skill in persuasion surpasses even my own.”
To think that all of this was just about printing a collection of transcribed lectures, yet Cui Xie made it sound like he was on a crusade to save scholars across the land! No wonder Director Fei had been swayed—probably after being subjected to the same impassioned speech—until Director Fei even agreed to have his own portrait printed in the book, right?
Truly, this was shamefully earnest.
But then Cui Xie added that if they didn’t print portraits as an anti-counterfeiting measure, the printing houses of Mashan in Jianyang might pirate their lecture notes and poetry collections, filling them with errors. Scholars would study from flawed texts, leading to mistakes that could cost them dearly in the imperial exams.
The Peace of Mind Study had long specialized in color printing, and adding a portrait wouldn’t significantly increase production costs. Their edition would remain affordable, while any counterfeiters trying to match the quality would face much higher costs and be forced to sell at a higher price. In the end, students seeking genuine teachings from esteemed masters would naturally choose the properly printed edition, not the expensive, yet inferior ones. Then wouldn’t that ensure they learned from the best and most accurate sources?
Even Director Fei Hong couldn’t resist Cui Xie’s persuasion—how could his own teacher?
With a resigned wave of his hand, Li Dongyang sighed, “Fine, fine. Print it if you must. Whether it’s portraits or your transcribed notes, it’s no major concern.”
Cui Xie smiled in satisfaction, then asking “Since Director Fei has agreed, this student also planned to include some exercises at the end of his Mencius lecture notes—similar to the ones he prepared for the Crown Prince—so that students who purchase the notes can test themselves and identify any gaps in their understanding. Since esteemed Master and the scholars of the Hanlin Academy have also given me many exam questions, might this student add them as well?”
Li Dongyang waved a hand dismissively. “Those were just practice questions for you students—take them and print them if you wish.”
Cui Xie pressed on, “Then there are also questions from Examiner Editor Yang, Compiler Wang, and Compiler Xie…”
Master Li was growing impatient now. “Just print them, print them. I’ll inform them myself.”
Who didn’t know that most of these exam prep books were just publishing houses paying ten or twenty taels—sometimes even dozens—to hire some scholar or licentiate, slap a “chief editor” title on them, and copy old examination essays in scrolls from county or prefectural archives? Or worse, they’d commission some ghostwriter to churn out articles and put a famous name on the cover, selling them as “official” study guides.
If one were to search the market now, they’d probably find at least a dozen essays attributed to Li Dongyang that he himself had never laid eyes on.
In this era, there were no licensing fees, no copyrights—once an article was written and published, it no longer belonged to its author. Having someone like Cui Xie, who actually asked for permission before printing, was practically an anomaly—almost too conscientious.
Master Li simply let go of this ahead-of-its-time concept of copyright royalties and instead had Cui Xie stay for a lecture, determined not to be outdone by Director Fei. He expounded on a passage from 《Mencius》:
“This was a subject of anxious solicitude to the sage Shun, and he appointed Xie to be the Minister of Instruction, to teach the relations of humanity: how, between father and son, there should be affection; between sovereign and minister, righteousness; between husband and wife, attention to their separate functions; between old and young, a proper order; and between friends, fidelity.”
As Li Dongyang reached the line, “A father naturally shows kindness to his son, and a son naturally shows filial piety to his father,” Cui Xie suddenly remembered—the year’s end was approaching, and it was time to send his loving father in Yunnan a New Year’s gift.
But this year, he had spent a fortune setting up the tea stalls, funding the production of the Story of the Pipa, crafting costumes and headpieces, and investing in a pencil-making kilns—an outright financial sinkhole. On top of that, his experiments with growing fragrant flowers and distilling floral essence on his Beijing estate had hurt the wheat and cotton yields… It seemed he’d once again be unable to afford a truly impressive gift.
Fortunately, he had a teacher like Li Dongyang. If he copied a few volumes of Li Dongyan’s poetry and essays and sent them home as a New Year’s tribute, his father would surely be pleased, wouldn’t he?
Cui Xie carried that small plate of bayberries home, letting his entire household share in the imperial favor and bask in Li Dongyang’s kindness. At the same time, he swapped out the assignments for his younger brothers, having them copy down some of Li Dongyang’s fine literary works to prepare as a New Year’s tribute for their father.
As for himself, he went to Director Fei and procured the full set of 《Mencius》 lecture notes. Just like before, he kept the original text in large characters, with explanations in smaller ones. The key passages were outlined with colored borders, shifting from red to blue, and at the end of each chapter, he appended related examination questions drafted by the Hanlin academicians.
The book’s cover was kept simple—on a bold red label that took up nearly half the front, two large lines read:
“Essential Notes for the Imperial Examinations, Volume IV: Imperial College’s Director Fei’s Mencius Lectures.”
The inside cover, where the publisher’s inscription was printed, featured a half-length colored portrait of Director Fei at the top. On the facing, opposite page, prominently displayed, were the names:
Lead Author: Fei Yin, Director of Studies of the Imperial College
Question Contributors: Li Dongyang, Hanlin Academician and Imperial Lecturer; Xie Qian, Hanlin Academician and Imperial Reader…
Beneath this long list of examiners—each name accompanied by a grand official title that alone would make scholars eager to buy the book—was a bold declaration to prevent theft:
“This series is published by the Peace of Mind Study, Beijing. Unauthorized copies will be pursued to the ends of the earth.”
When the first batch of freshly printed lecture notes was ready, Cui Xie promptly took a copy to the Imperial College to present to the Uncle and nephew duo, seeking the Director’s guidance on any necessary revisions and asking the young Fei-jieyuan to try answering the questions.
Fei Hong took one look at the long row of Hanlin officials’ names beneath his uncle’s, sucked in a breath, and asked cautiously:
“You didn’t print the exam questions we drafted for the Crown Prince, did you? How can material from the Forbidden Palace be leaked so casually?”
Cui Xie raised a hand and patted Fei Hong on the shoulder—who was, in fact, slightly taller than him, though not by much—and reassured him, “I’ve been studying at the Imperial College for over a year now. Do you really think I’d do something like that? These questions were drafted privately by my mentor and the Hanlin scholars. I even asked my mentor to confirm, and the da-ren have no objections.”
Even though they weren’t the exact questions prepared for the Crown Prince, just having so many Hanlin academicians contribute was already an incredible feat.
Fei Hong flipped through the notes, then glanced at the questions in the back before immediately starting to solve them in his mind, impatient. Cui Xie casually pulled out a graphite pencil and handed it to him, telling him to just write directly in the book. Once finished, he could just erase the graphite with a steamed bun, without damaging the printed text.
Fei Hong had never used a hard-tipped pen before, but he had no time to grind ink and prepare paper now. Though the pencil felt unfamiliar in his grip, he still started writing away.
Meanwhile, his uncle was flipping through the familiar yet freshly printed lecture notes. Seeing the corresponding questions at the end of each chapter, he clicked his tongue. “This book is indeed well-structured. The colored text frames make it easy to distinguish key points, and the questions align perfectly with each chapter’s content. A student can immediately test their understanding after reading the notes…”
He did not dwell on his own portrait printed inside the book, nor on the long list of prestigious names under the ‘Editorial Committee.’ Instead, he glanced up at Cui Xie and asked, “But what if students don’t understand something? What if they answer incorrectly? If an ill-prepared scholar uses this book to teach others, it could be even more harmful than misinterpreting the scriptures…”
Cui Xie had already anticipated this issue and calmly responded, “This student has given this some thought—there are many talented scholars in our College who are willing to read these notes and attempt these questions. My idea is to collect the completed answers, select the best ones, and compile them into a 《Reference Answers》 volume to be sold alongside the book. That way, even scholars in remote regions who cannot find good teachers can cross-check their mistakes and avoid being led astray by misinterpretations.”
Director Fei pondered over this suggestion, while Fei Hong suddenly lifted his head from the sea of questions and firmly stated, “Attaching these questions to the notes is an excellent idea. I believe all of us who serve as study companions to the Crown Prince can—and should—attempt these questions. Compiling a reference book is indeed… a fitting solution.”
Footnotes:
- Weishi: term used by a teacher or master to refer to themself when speaking to their student ↩︎
- Pond of Accumulated Water: In the northwestern corner within Beijing’s Second Ring Road, there is a body of water known as Jishuitan. This lake was formed after the Tonghui River, an artificial canal built during the Yuan Dynasty to strengthen the Grand Canal transportation system, flowed into the city, creating a vast body of water called Jishuitan. Jishuitan was once the main dock for canal transportation and also served as the imperial elephant-washing pool. Starting in the Yuan Dynasty, elephants from Siam (modern Thailand) and Burma were used as transportation and as part of the imperial ceremonial guard. On the hottest summer days, their handlers would lead them to Jishuitan for bathing.In Cao Xueqin’s former residence within the Beijing Botanical Garden, there is an old Qing Dynasty map where the lake is written as “Jishuitan” (汲水潭) instead. ↩︎
- Hall of Literary Brilliance: is a hall in the outer court of the Forbidden City, located far east of the Hall of Supreme Harmony. In the early Ming dynasty, the hall was originally used as the residence of the heir apparent. However, starting in 1536, Ming emperors began to use the building as a secondary hall. During both the Ming and Qing dynasty, the hall hosted grand imperial lectures on Confucian classics and served as a place for the emperor to meet his scholars and officials.[1][2] The hall was also where palace examinations papers would be reviewed and marked by nine readers who would be sequestered in the hall for two days. The hall gave its name to one of the seven different titles of grand secretary in late-imperial China. Becoming Grand Secretary of Wenhua Hall was considered to be an especially prestigious honour for high-ranking mandarins. ↩︎
- Gao Xiaosong: Gao Xiaosong is a Chinese musician, talk show host, and film director. He rose to fame in the 1990s as a campus folk songwriter and later became a prominent entertainment executive and media personality. I guess this is some modern culture thing in that he is not exactly seen as handsome but is active on social media and still beloved. ↩︎
The author also included some notes: The poetry and lecture notes attributed to Li Dongyang in the text are authentic. The original poem reads:
The palace river hastens to load boats full of ice,
In the tenth month, bayberries arrive in the imperial capital.
Their chilled sweetness masks the dew of red nectar,
Yet in poetry, they enhance the purity of the Jade Hall.
Their name traces distantly back to Fu’s sacrificial cauldron,
Their value rivals that of Sui pearls, and rightly so.
Twice I bow outside the gates of Wenhua Hall,
The honor of the lecture banquet—how could one not be proud?
TN: Hi everyone!! I had a super good week and I hope everyone else did too! Cui Xie is seriously too sly and persusasive, I can totally see how Li Dongyang couldn’t say no LOL
Announcement: We have set up a kofi and patreon account! If you would like to support us or get early access to advance chapters for Blood-Sucking Empress OR TMD OR my new novel, those options are available for you (in support us page)! I have just added a patreon tier for Transmigrating to the Ming Dynasty’s Imperial Examinations in which patreons can have access to a google document with ALL of my advanced translated chapters for the novel. Since I am a grad student, there should usually be at least 10 advance chapters in the document at a time, but depending on my schedules, there may be fewer or more. I’m currently extremely busy, but I have translated out some new chapters for you all! But, I will still post each week with the same schedule. Thanks!
Twin Dragons Translations 
Thank You for the new chapter (۶•౪•)۶❤
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