Chapter 103: The Marking of the Tattoo

In the residence of Cai Jing, the Capital Prefect of the Song Dynasty:

"No, my lord, I will never be a concubine to another," said Cai Rongxue, the daughter of Cai Jing, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Zhexian, why must you be like this?" Cai Jing mused. "Although this man has reached his thirties, he is still in his prime. Moreover, he is quite presentable, and most importantly, he is a newly crowned top scholar. His future prospects are limitless. Marrying him would not be a slight to you."

After the imperial court examinations, Cai Jing had hosted a banquet to curry favor with the new scholars, inviting those who had ranked highest. During the event, the top scholar He Changyan, emboldened by wine, alluded to a famous anecdote regarding Zhang Xian, a prominent figure from the era of Emperor Renzong.

Zhang Xian, who passed the imperial examination in the eighth year of the Tiansheng era and rose to the rank of Vice Minister of the Ministry of Justice, was a man of refined tastes and literary flair. Even at eighty, he remained vibrant and took an eighteen-year-old beauty as his concubine. When Su Shi and other friends came to offer their congratulations, Su Shi asked the old gentleman how he felt. Zhang Xian had replied triumphantly, "I am eighty and you are eighteen; you have the rosy cheeks while I have white hair. We are matched in age, separated only by a cycle of sixty years." Su Shi immediately composed a poem for him: "The bride is eighteen, the groom is eighty; white hair meets a face of rouge. In the mandarin duck quilt, they become a pair for the night; a pear blossom branch presses down upon the begonia."

By recounting this anecdote at the banquet and pointedly mentioning Cai Rongxue, He Changyan's intentions were clear. Cai Jing was inwardly incensed. Though Cai Rongxue was his adopted daughter, she was still his kinswoman; how could she ever be a concubine? However, despite his indignation, he did not flare up on the spot, choosing instead to consult her upon returning home.

"My lord," Cai Rongxue said, tears streaming down her face, "though I am of humble stature, I would rather die than be a concubine to another." Her own mother had been a concubine, living in obscurity and dying without even a tombstone. How could she willingly accept such a fate?

Cai Jing nodded thoughtfully. "If that is the case, then let it be. But Zhexian, you are of marriageable age; I shall certainly find you a suitable match." In truth, Cai Jing was equally unwilling; it would be a disgrace to his household.

"Thank you, my lord," Cai Rongxue said, finally feeling a sense of relief as she bowed gracefully. After Cai Jing departed, she gazed out at the azaleas beyond the window, wondering, *What is he doing? Why has there been no word from him for so long?*

***

"What is that on your face? Why have you become like this?" Li Sanjian asked in shock, staring at the tattoos on Shankui’s face.

"Brother Shankui, does it hurt?" little Douya asked, gently stroking the marks with her small hand.

"It doesn't hurt, it doesn't hurt," Shankui replied with a simple grin, touching the characters for "Valiant Hero" tattooed on his left forehead.

"Shankui, what exactly happened?" Li Sanjian shook his head and asked again. After becoming a client of Prince Duan’s estate, Li Sanjian had asked Zhao Ji to help Shankui and Xu Biao find work. Instead, Zhao Ji had arranged for them to join the Imperial Guards. Li Sanjian had assumed that becoming a soldier would be a rigorous process involving strict vetting, but the reality was far simpler. The Song military utilized a recruitment system that accepted men from all walks of life, including the landless, refugees, and even pardoned criminals. With Prince Duan’s influence, the robust Shankui and Xu Biao had been inducted with ease.

"Master, they tattooed me as soon as we reached the barracks..." Shankui replied.

"Hush..." Li Sanjian quickly stopped him. "You are now a man of the imperial court; do not call me 'Master' anymore. Call me Sanlang or Brother Jian." Since Shankui was now an Imperial Guard, calling Li Sanjian "Master" was a dangerous act of overstepping that could bring trouble upon them both.

"Master..." Shankui persisted, looking at Li Sanjian with a wronged expression.

"Fine, fine," Li Sanjian sighed. "You may use that title in private, but never when outsiders are present." Shankui, though simple-minded, understood the gravity of the situation and nodded.

"Tell me, what are these tattoos?"

Shankui explained that once one joined the Imperial Guards, they were branded to ensure they could never leave, serving for life unless disabled or aged. Li Sanjian was baffled; he had seen such marks on local militia before, but he had expected the elite Imperial Guards to be different. Shankui’s left temple bore the word "Valiant," and his right, "Fire-Watcher"—the former being the unit name and the latter the specialized duty.

The Imperial Guards were stratified by status and pay. Shankui and Xu Biao were in the "Valiant" army, a lower-tier division with meager pay. As a "Fire-Watcher," Shankui was tasked with patrolling and fire prevention. Li Sanjian shuddered at the thought of such a fate; he could not bear the idea of his own handsome face being marred by such ink.

"What have you been doing lately?" Li Sanjian asked.

"Nothing much," Shankui replied. "Aside from sleeping, we’ve mostly been moving rocks and repairing the courtyard for the Commander."

"Repairing the courtyard? No military drills?" Li Sanjian was stunned. He didn't expect much from a fire-fighting unit, but surely there should be some training? Moving rocks and manual labor?

"Almost none," Shankui said, tugging at his ill-fitting uniform. Li Sanjian fell silent. If even the Imperial Guards were like this, how could the empire survive? He decided not to dwell on it; he was a scholar, not a soldier, and the fate of the Song army was not his to worry about.

"Little Douya, what have you been doing lately? Have you been listening to Mother?" Li Sanjian asked, turning to pinch the girl’s cheek.

"Stop it, Brother! I'm all grown up now," Douya pouted, swatting his hand away. Three years had passed, and the nine-year-old had blossomed into a beautiful young girl with bright, clear eyes and fair, rosy skin.

"Hehe," Lady Fu, who was spinning thread nearby, laughed. "She is very sensible and helps me with so much."

"Mother, I told you that you don't need to do this anymore," Li Sanjian said to her. "I am capable of supporting you now."