Chapter 89: Failure (Part Two)

Li Sanjian had failed the imperial examinations. Around him, most people offered only sneers and biting sarcasm, exhausting their capacity for mockery. Yet there were still those who sympathized with him and felt a pang of regret at his misfortune, such as Ye Mengde. Ye Mengde patted Li Sanjian’s shoulder with a sigh, saying, “Hanren, this is but a stroke of ill fortune. Still, you are young yet; there will be other chances.”

Ye Mengde himself had made the list of successful candidates in this session.

Li Sanjian nodded, not yet replying, when another successful candidate from Xiajiang, He Changyan, stepped forward with a smile and a cupped-hand salute, saying, “Little brother, your talent is remarkable. You are sure to win top honors in the future. I shall be waiting for you in the Golden Hall.”

The words “remarkable talent” were uttered with unmistakable emphasis, the sarcasm all too plain. He Changyan’s smugness practically radiated from every syllable. Wasn’t Li Sanjian supposed to be a master of poetry? Didn’t he win the lantern festival? Perhaps he even caught the eye of some beauties… Now, with Li Sanjian’s current dejected appearance after his defeat, He Changyan wondered what those young ladies might think of him. The thought nearly made him laugh aloud.

Isn’t it my turn now? He Changyan mused to himself. After all, a beauty’s affection is not always decided by looks or literary talent—prospects matter, too.

Li Sanjian was hardly deaf to He Changyan’s veiled ridicule, yet what could he do? Engage in a war of words, argue, or give him a beating? Setting aside the fact that he might not win such a fight, how could a scholar resort to violence? Even in defeat, he remained a gentleman.

So, Li Sanjian maintained a calm expression as he replied, “Brother, I shall take your words as encouragement.”

Turning away from He Changyan, he faced Ye Mengde and gave a deep, sincere bow. “Brother Shaoyun, your kind advice I will remember always. You are right—I am still too young, lacking in learning and skill, my essays unworthy of praise. I am deeply ashamed.”

“There’s no need, brother,” Ye Mengde said quickly, helping him up. “You’re only seventeen, and already you’ve done so well. I was not nearly so accomplished at your age.”

“A fallen phoenix is worth less than a chicken… all that effort wasted.” At that moment, a wealthy merchant who had earlier hovered near Li Sanjian, hoping to “snatch a son-in-law,” curled his lip, muttered these words, and headed off in pursuit of a more fortunate candidate.

“Damn scoundrel, how dare you insult him?” Shan Kui, who had come with them, had been simmering with frustration all along. Upon hearing those words, he flew into a rage, seized the merchant, and raised his fist to strike.

To Shan Kui, Li Sanjian was like a blood brother.

“Shan Kui, stop!” Li Sanjian called out, hastening to intervene. “Let him go, let’s be on our way.”

To win, one should win with grace; to lose, lose with dignity. Such had always been Li Sanjian’s way.

He, Zeng Gongming, and Shan Kui turned and left the examination courtyard.

“Great River flows eastward, sweeping away heroes of ages past. West of the old fortress, people say, is where Zhou Yu of the Three Kingdoms burned the Red Cliffs. Jagged rocks pierce the sky; waves crash against the shore, rolling up a thousand heaps of snow. The land is picturesque; how many heroes appeared in such a time! I think of young Gongjin, newly wed to Little Qiao, radiant and full of vigor. With feather fan and silk kerchief, he laughed as enemy ships vanished in smoke and flame. Now, wandering through the ruins of the old kingdom, I must laugh at myself for being so sentimental, my hair already graying early. Life is but a dream—let us pour a libation to the moon shining over the river.”

From somewhere far from the jubilant crowds came the faint strains of song, at once plaintive and bold, stirring all who heard it.

“What is he singing?” asked an elderly man, lifting the curtain of his sedan chair, his age near sixty.

“My lord, it is a work by his master, Master Dongpo, entitled ‘Prelude to the Water Melody: Reminiscing at the Red Cliffs,’” a servant replied with a bow.

The old man glared at him. “Do you think I don’t know this is by Su Shi? I’m asking what melody is being sung. Since when was this tune set to music?”

He let the curtain fall and murmured to himself, “Defeat does not dishearten him. The lad is intriguing…”

……

Was Li Sanjian truly undaunted by defeat? In truth, he had merely forced himself to appear composed, steadying his spirit with a mask of indifference.

Now, Li Sanjian walked ahead, Zeng Gongming behind, with Shan Kui bringing up the rear; the three shuffled along the palace wall, heads bowed, aimless and downcast. They almost hugged the wall as they walked, its long shadow enveloping them.

Failure in the imperial examinations—those eight words echoed again and again in Li Sanjian’s mind.

In fact, Li Sanjian had never truly feared such an outcome. What he dreaded was the look of disappointment he would see on his mother’s face.

Though Madam Fu had never uttered a word of expectation or pressed him to pass, Li Sanjian had long known her hopes. She wished him to inherit his father’s ambitions, bring honor to the family name, and make their ancestors proud.

His mother had raised him through hardship and toil, only to be met with this result. Li Sanjian could not guess how she would feel upon hearing the news, but his own heart was heavy with pain.

If this place will not have me, there are others that might. A desperate resolve welled up in Li Sanjian’s heart. If need be, he would leave the capital, leave Kaifeng, leave even the Song realm itself. After all, this land was not the Song’s alone.

If the worst came to pass, he could follow the example of Zhang Yuan, seize Zhao Song’s lands for himself. The more Li Sanjian thought, the more his anger burned, the more extreme his ideas became.

Zhang Yuan, a man of Emperor Renzong’s reign, hailed from Huayin County in Hua Prefecture, Yongxing Circuit. Gifted and ambitious, he failed the examinations repeatedly—his closest brush with success ending in rejection at the final imperial test. After his repeated failures, Zhang Yuan wandered from place to place, finding only cold shoulders and official oppression, until, in anger, he defected to Western Xia. There, he assisted Emperor Li Yuanhao, rising to become chief minister, the right hand of the emperor, second only to one.

Once ensconced in high office, Zhang Yuan made it his mission to destroy the Song, urging Li Yuanhao to attack the Guanzhong region and invade Song territory. In battle after battle, he led the Xia armies to crushing victories over the Song. Though, in the end, the disparity in strength meant he never achieved his final aim, and he died in frustration, his efforts nonetheless cost the Song dearly and left its court in turmoil. Because of his case, the Song court abandoned its practice of dismissing candidates at the palace examination, a testament to how deeply his actions stung them.

For Li Sanjian, such a choice would bring no burden of guilt, for his mother was of the Li people, making him half Li himself. In the eyes of the Han, he was a barbarian—or at least half of one.

Han? Han Chinese? Whoever mistreated him or his family, be they Han or otherwise, Li Sanjian would not forgive them.

His thoughts grew darker and more extreme by the moment.

……

“Sanjian, you’re back? Are you hungry?” Madam Fu smiled as she spoke to her son, who returned home looking so lost and defeated.

The ugly bride must still face her parents-in-law; though Li Sanjian felt too ashamed to face his mother, he could not simply stay away. After wandering the streets for a long time, he finally forced himself to return.

But when he stepped inside, Madam Fu acted as though nothing had happened, asking after him as if it were any ordinary day.

Li Sanjian nodded silently. After wandering for so long, his stomach was indeed empty.

“Sanjian, today I’ve made your favorite dishes. Come and have a taste—they were always your favorites as a child.” Madam Fu brushed the dust from his shoulders, smiling gently.

“Shan Kui, come eat too. Douya, fetch the wine,” she instructed.

Little Douya answered at once, lugging over a jar of wine with all his might.

That day, Madam Fu had prepared Li family specialties: vegetarian hotpot, Hele crab, Wenchang chicken, and more, making Li Sanjian’s mouth water as soon as he saw them.

These dishes were troublesome to prepare and costly besides, a rare indulgence for their humble household.

“Eat slowly, child,” Madam Fu said with a laugh, watching him devour the food. “You’ve grown so tall, yet you eat just as you did when you were little.”

“Is it good?” she asked gently, her eyes full of love.

“Yes… delicious… so fragrant… Mother, why aren’t you eating?” Li Sanjian managed between mouthfuls.

“I won’t eat. Seeing you eat is all the happiness I need,” Madam Fu replied, adding more food to his bowl as she spoke.

Her words made Li Sanjian choke up, and suddenly the delicious food was hard to swallow.

Their family had always been poor. Whatever treats there were, Madam Fu always saved for her son, content herself with husks and wild greens.

“Mother… Mother…” Li Sanjian suddenly dropped his chopsticks, turned around, and fell into her arms, weeping. “Your son is useless… I’ve brought you shame… I’ve let Father’s spirit down…”

He buried his face in her embrace, weeping bitterly, yet feeling the warmth that had comforted him since childhood.

There was no warmer place in the world than a mother’s arms.

“You silly child…” Madam Fu held him close, tears in her own eyes. “What is there to be ashamed of? In my eyes, you are the most capable person in the world. It’s their loss if they don’t want you. Sanjian, you don’t understand your mother’s heart. I’ve told you before—I want nothing in this life but your safety. Someday, when you have a family of your own, so your father’s line will continue, I’ll be content.”

“Mother…” Li Sanjian wept on.

“Mother is right,” chimed in little Douya, now calling Madam Fu “Mother” as well. “If they don’t want big brother, it’s because they don’t know a treasure when they see one. Hmph! They’re all blind—big fools, every one.”

His innocent words made Madam Fu, Li Sanjian, and Shan Kui all laugh.

Douya was still young and not precise with his words, likening Li Sanjian to a piece of merchandise…

But the gloomy atmosphere in the house lightened a little.

At that moment, the shabby wooden door of their home let out a soft creak, and something was tossed inside.