Chapter Fifty-Three: A Junior Nephew Fell From the Sky

Li Sanjian stayed in Lingshan County for only a day, and early the following morning set out for Qiongtai in Danzhou. This time, his journey to Danzhou was alone as well, but unlike before, he no longer had to rely solely on his legs to travel.

Shankui did not accompany Li Sanjian. The reason was that Shankui needed to escort Madam Fu to Guizhou, where they would wait for Li Sanjian’s return before heading north together to the capital. Li Sanjian and Madam Fu depended on each other, and he could not bear to leave his mother alone in Lingnan. Likewise, Madam Fu was uneasy letting him travel to Tokyo and the Kaifeng Prefecture by himself, so they resolved to make the journey to the capital together.

Lingnan was separated from the capital by a thousand mountains and myriad rivers, and the roads were treacherously difficult. Yet Li Sanjian was young, Madam Fu was not yet old, and she was born into poverty, lacking the delicate airs of a wealthy family’s daughter. Thus, their situation was far more favorable.

…

Within the domain of Leizhou in Lingnan, there stood a small academy called Yongbo Academy. It was said that Yongbo Academy had been founded by a military official from Lingnan; it was a private institution. Inside, martial arts and military strategy were often taught, including the Seven Military Classics—namely, The Art of War by Sun Tzu, Wuzi, Sima’s Methods, Six Strategies, Three Strategies of Huang Shigong, Wei Liaozi, and Li Wei Gong’s Questions and Answers.

The academy’s teaching of martial arts was mainly to prepare its students to participate in the imperial military exams. Typically, academies in the Song Dynasty focused on classics, poetry, and prose, rarely on martial arts, but Yongbo Academy was unique: besides teaching the classics and literary arts, it sometimes offered lectures on military strategy. For instance, Su Zhe, brother of Su Shi, who had been exiled here, was known to give such talks.

Li Sanjian had no idea Su Zhe was here; he only knew that Yao Yu, who had once escorted him to Lingshan County, was studying at this academy.

Passing by, Li Sanjian decided to visit Yao Yu, and to thank him for his previous assistance.

Yongbo Academy was small, accommodating only a few dozen students, so its management was not strict. Anyone who wished to listen to lectures could do so without hindrance. When Li Sanjian entered, only a few glanced at him; no one questioned or stopped him, assuming he was there to listen.

“The art of warfare is most difficult in employing surprise, most clever in employing surprise, most subtle in employing surprise…” Upon entering, Li Sanjian saw a man seated atop a raised platform, appearing in his forties or nearing fifty, wearing a tall, square cap and broad robes. He was lecturing on military strategy; his voice was low and hoarse, yet magnetic.

Below the platform, several dozen students sat attentively, many dressed as martial scholars, with wide sashes and warrior attire.

Suddenly, Li Sanjian spotted Yao Yu among the crowd and, delighted, was about to greet him. But he noticed Yao Yu had also seen him, and Yao Yu waved his hand, offering a slight smile.

Yao Yu’s gesture clearly meant Li Sanjian shouldn’t disturb the lecture. Understanding, Li Sanjian knelt quietly beside him.

Yet Li Sanjian sensed something odd about Yao Yu’s smile—awkward, embarrassed, as if he’d done something shameful.

“Chess and butchery are petty pursuits, but with extraordinary skill, none can match them—how much more so in warfare?” The lecturer’s half-closed eyes suddenly widened, glancing at Li Sanjian before continuing, “Chess is a contest, carefully dividing and deploying, attacking those who lose their guard…”

Li Sanjian set aside his doubts and listened intently. This was the first time since arriving in this world that he’d heard a master lecture on military strategy, and he was deeply curious.

The lecturer moved from “Generals” and “Surprise Troops” to “Advisors” and “Border Defense: Upper, Middle, Lower” and so forth.

…

“The woes of an enemy state arise from excessive demands and insufficient supply…” Soon, the lecturer turned to the current state of Song’s border defenses, asserting that the main external threats were the Western Rong and Northern Di—namely, Western Xia and the Khitans.

He disapproved of the court’s appeasement policies, arguing that constant concessions, surrendering land and paying tribute for temporary peace, were perilous—like drinking poison to quench thirst.

Li Sanjian strongly agreed. The Khitans and Western Xia were insatiable wolves; no matter how much gold, silk, or land Song gave, they would never be satisfied and would always covet more.

This was human nature. If he were in their position, Li Sanjian wouldn’t be content either. The Song’s lands were vast and rich, gold piled high, beauties in abundance—how could one not salivate at such treasures?

If they ever had the chance to destroy the Song at a stroke, they would surely march south without hesitation, advance into the heartland, and drink from the rivers of the south.

The current stalemate was merely a matter of mutual inability to overcome the other; so why should the court cower, surrender land, and grovel?

Yet Li Sanjian understood that the relationship between the court and the Khitans and Western Xia was not so simple—far from something one could explain in a few words. It involved military strength, population, finances, and the overall national power.

What puzzled Li Sanjian was why the lecturer mentioned only Western Xia and Khitans as the main threats. Where were the Jurchens? Where was the Jin dynasty founded by them?

Even with scant knowledge of history, Li Sanjian knew the Northern Song fell to the Jin, and the Southern Song to the Mongols. Since the capital was Tokyo, Kaifeng Prefecture, this must be the Northern Song—but which reign exactly?

Li Sanjian had no clue. He’d learned this was the Shaosheng era, but whose reign was that? He had no idea.

He’d asked before, but who dared utter the emperor’s name directly? Instead, he received a bewildering list of imperial names that left him dizzy and confused.

He prayed silently that it wasn’t one of those chaotic times… If it was, where could a powerless man like himself go?

Lost in thought, Li Sanjian’s face unconsciously showed confusion, doubt, even disdain.

The lecturer quickly noticed his odd expression, glanced at him, but said nothing and continued.

The lecture lasted several hours. The students listened with rapt attention, while Li Sanjian grew dizzy and faint with hunger.

“Junior brother, please follow me.” When the lecture ended, the middle-aged man suddenly rose and addressed Li Sanjian.

All the students turned in surprise to look at Li Sanjian.

Where had this young boy come from? He looked barely in his teens, yet was called their master’s junior brother? They could scarcely believe their ears… Had their master gone hungry and mistaken him for someone else?

“Did he mean me?” Li Sanjian was startled, pointing to himself and glancing at Yao Yu beside him.

“If not you, then who else?” Yao Yu muttered, his voice barely audible.

“What on earth…” Li Sanjian was baffled. How could he be the junior brother of such a learned man? Where did this come from?

…

“Your junior pays respects to elder brother.” Once he understood the situation, Li Sanjian respectfully saluted Qin Guan, then cast a smiling glance at Yao Yu standing nearby.

The man before him, nearly fifty, was named Qin Guan, courtesy name Shaoyou, styled the Recluse of Han Canal, from Wuning Township in the Gaoyou military district. He was a disciple of Su Shi, having entered the master’s tutelage long before Li Sanjian.

Qin Guan had passed the imperial examinations in the eighth year of Yuanfeng, rising to posts in the Secretariat Department and the National History Institute. Alongside Zhang Lei, Chao Buzhi, and Huang Tingjian, he was known as one of the “Four Scholars of Su’s Gate” and the “Six Gentlemen of Su’s Gate.”

After Emperor Zhezong took the reins, Qin Guan was ostracized by the new faction, exiled first to Hangzhou, then to oversee the wine tax in Chuzhou, then sent further to Chenzhou in Hunan, assigned to Hengzhou, and finally ended up in Leizhou.

Li Sanjian may not have known the name Qin Guan, but how could he not know Shaoyou? A master of lyric poetry, his fame rivaled his teacher Su Shi.

The tale of Su Xiaomei thrice testing Qin Shaoyou, a story of talented scholar and fair maiden, immortal couple, was something Li Sanjian had heard often.

Yet it was pure fabrication. Firstly, to Li Sanjian’s knowledge, Su Shi had only three elder sisters—where did “Su Xiaomei” come from? Secondly, Su Shi was Qin Guan’s teacher, and if he did have a younger sister, regardless of age, she would be Qin Guan’s teacher’s aunt. For a disciple to marry his teacher’s aunt—that would be incestuous! If so, Su Shi, Qin Guan, and Su Xiaomei would be too ashamed to show their faces, an absurdity beyond measure!

“Shuxing, come pay respects to your uncle.” Qin Guan sipped tea and addressed Yao Yu.

Yao Yu shot a resentful look at Li Sanjian and, reluctantly, saluted, “Disciple Yao Yu pays respects to Uncle.”

Yao Yu had delivered himself into the role of Li Sanjian’s nephew. He had come to Leizhou to study, originally intending to apprentice under Su Zhe, to learn the arts of diplomacy and military strategy. But his information was wrong; Su Zhe, exiled by the court, had soon been sent on to Xunzhou, so at this time, Su Zhe was in Xunzhou and Qin Guan in Leizhou.

Qin Guan, besides his prowess in literature and poetry, was well-versed in military strategy, and his discussions of warfare rivaled those of Du Mu of late Tang. Thus, Yao Yu became his disciple to study diplomacy and military arts, aiming to one day sit for the imperial military exams.

As a result, Li Sanjian became Yao Yu’s uncle.

For no reason, Yao Yu had dropped a generation, becoming the nephew of this frail scholar. He was inwardly miserable, powerless to change his fate.

Li Sanjian couldn’t help but laugh, tears almost spilling, as he hastily supported Yao Yu, saying, “Ah, good nephew, rise quickly…”

Having such a skilled nephew made Li Sanjian feel exhilarated, and seeing Yao Yu’s bitter melon face made it all the more amusing.

Damn it, who the hell is your nephew? Yao Yu truly wished he could draw his sword and hack apart that triumphant face before him.

A perfectly good elder brother had become an uncle… They had nearly sworn brotherhood before.

Qin Guan, knowing the whole story, found it amusing as well. Smiling, he said, “I hear you ranked first in the provincial exams, worthy indeed of our master’s last disciple. Congratulations, junior brother!”