Xu Fu’s shout startled several sparrows perched on the big tree outside the study, sending them scattering into the air.
Xu Youde’s wrist jerked, nearly flipping over the letter from his daughter that he’d just pressed under the inkstone, along with Xu Zijin’s deadly manuscript.
He shifted the inkstone back into place, covering the half-exposed character beneath it, then slowly leaned back into his chair.
“What’s all the racket about? If the sky falls, the tall ones will hold it up,” he said.
Xu Youde took a gulp of his now-cooled tea, forcing down the frantic pounding of his heart.
A messenger from the household of the Grand Secretary? And at this very moment!
That subversive essay had only been circulating for half a day at most.
Had the Grand Secretary’s people already tracked it down? Was that old cur as sharp-nosed as a hound?
Xu Youde’s stomach churned violently; sweat beaded on his forehead, but his face remained taut as a drum.
Qinghuan, oh Qinghuan, in your letter you said to let things take their natural course—did you truly not foresee that old fox Xu Jie would step in personally? If you did, couldn’t you have at least sent me a dream to tip me off?
His heart racing, he nonetheless stood, straightened his robes, and shot a sideways glance at his steward.
“Escort our guest to the flower hall, and serve the finest tea,” he ordered.
In the flower hall, there was no grand procession or entourage—not even a single attendant in sight.
The visitor wore a faded blue robe, washed almost white, with sleeves neatly smoothed, his hands clasped before him.
As Xu Youde crossed the threshold and made out the man’s face, his vigilance sharpened to a razor’s edge.
This was no errand boy sent to deliver a message—it was Xu Zhong, the Grand Secretary’s chief steward.
This old hand had served at Xu Jie’s side for most of his life—a genuine “seventh-rank official at the prime minister’s doorstep.” On ordinary days, even a director from the Six Ministries had to queue up for an audience with him. Yet here he was, in person, at the residence of the Lord of Sincere Intent!
“Steward Xu, your arrival is an honor I scarcely deserve,” Xu Youde said, raising his fists in salute with a booming laugh, his voice full of vigor.
Xu Zhong made no show of arrogance; instead, he stepped back half a pace and made a deep, formal bow.
“You flatter me, Lord Count. Your old servant is merely running an errand for the Grand Secretary—delivering a box of aged tea from our own stores.”
Xu Youde quickly ordered a servant to accept the wooden box, invited Xu Zhong to sit, and personally poured the tea.
At the mention of “delivering tea,” Xu Youde’s mind spun like an abacus.
A trusted steward arrives in person, without a calling card or official missive, bearing nothing but a box of tea leaves—was this first courtesy, then force?
Or had that essay truly stirred up colossal trouble, and was Xu Jie using the tea to lull him into complacency before wiping out the Xu family entirely?
No—Qinghuan always left a backup plan. Surely she had accounted for the court’s reaction! If he just kept steady, played the fool to the end, this move of theirs was bound to backfire!
With this thought, Xu Youde straightened his back, lifted the teacup, blew on the steam, and forced himself to make small talk in a casual tone.
Xu Zhong cradled the teacup in both hands, smiling as he spoke.
“The Grand Secretary has reviewed the memorial that Commandery Princess Xu submitted to the court from the northern border a few days ago.”
Xu Youde’s fingers tightened slightly around the lid of his cup.
Xu Zhong continued, his speech slow, each word carefully articulated.
“His Excellency remarked that the memorial was well-organized, with impeccable reasoning and precise calculations. That science of matter—pragmatic and grounded, not given to idle theorizing—struck him as quite intriguing.”
These words fell into the air of the flower hall, leaving a brief silence.
Xu Youde’s mind rumbled like a cart over cobblestones.
Was this a probe into the Xu family’s foundations? Or a warning that they had overstepped their bounds?
“Steward Xu flatters us,” Xu Youde said cautiously. “The girl has a knack for arithmetic, that’s all. She knows nothing of profound learning. As for that study of matter, it’s just childish tinkering—hardly fit for polite society.”
He delivered this evasive jab in a masterful style, feeling rather pleased with himself.
By dismissing the science of matter as worthless and chalking it up to a girl’s frivolity, he figured even if Xu Jie were looking for a fight, he wouldn’t bother picking on a mere lass.
But Xu Zhong simply nodded with a smile, took a sip of tea, and set the cup down.
They exchanged a few more pleasantries about the goings-on in the capital.
After three rounds of tea, Xu Zhong suddenly placed his cup on the table and gave it a slight twist with his fingers.
“Lord Count, there was a bit of a stir at the Eastern Market today.”
Xu Youde’s eyelid twitched; his heart thumped hard.
Here it was! The real business had come at last!
Xu Zhong’s tone remained flat, betraying neither pleasure nor anger.
“Someone used waste paper—pages of writing—to wrap sunflower seeds for sale. By chance, the essay printed on that paper made its way to the Grand Secretary’s desk.”
Xu Youde felt a twitch in his cheek; he quickly forced a bewildered expression.
“Waste paper? I’m a rough man who only knows how to swing a blade. I’d never bother with the scraps used to wrap seeds in the market. Surely no one’s written seditious poems on that paper?”
This feigned ignorance struck even Xu Youde as a bit overdone.
But Xu Zhong did not answer. Instead, he gazed at Xu Youde, pausing for several long breaths.
Then he dropped a single, weightless remark.
“The Grand Secretary read what was written on that paper and left only this judgment—‘It is well-argued.’”
Xu Youde's head buzzed.
Evidence?
The Grand Secretary, the leader of the Great Qian civil officialdom, upon seeing an essay that stripped Confucianism bare to its undergarments, hadn't denounced it as treason—instead, he said there was evidence?
Qinghuan! Your father is overwhelmed! Was this a good thing or a bad thing? Did Xu Jie truly understand it, or was he speaking in reverse, ready to implicate the entire clan?
Though a storm raged in his heart, Xu Youde let only a measured pause show on his face before nodding steadily.
"The Grand Secretary is magnanimous, finding time for such street-corner scribbling."
Xu Zhong did not take the bait. Instead, he got straight to the point.
"His Excellency is curious about the writer. I take the liberty of asking—I hear the paper originated from your household. Might I inquire which brilliant mind composed it? Could they be brought forth for a meeting?"
There was no escaping it.
Xu Youde waved toward the door, signaling Xu Fu to fetch someone from the rear courtyard.
Before long, a clatter of hurried footsteps sounded outside.
Xu Zijin had barely returned to his room to catch his breath after Xu Youde's inscrutable counsel in the study. Before he could even steady his breathing, Xu Fu had grabbed him and dragged him back.
Stepping over the threshold of the parlor, his eyes fell on an elderly man in blue robes seated as a guest, his demeanor composed and deep.
Xu Fu had already briefed him on the way: this was the steward of Grand Secretary Xu's household.
Xu Zijin's emotions that day had been a wild roller coaster—first learning the discarded drafts had spread, convinced he was doomed; then, after the Old Lord's guidance, thinking he might survive. Now, the Grand Secretary's man had come knocking. They were about to catch him red-handed.
His legs buckled, and his knees bent instinctively to fall.
Seated in the host's chair, Xu Youde glared, setting his teacup down sharply on the table.
The abrupt motion froze Xu Zijin's knees mid-bend.
Qinghuan's territory could not afford cowardice! Did I have no dignity left? Xu Youde's gaze bored into Xu Zijin, laden with warning.
Xu Zijin, bolstered by the Old Lord's unshakable composure—like a mountain standing firm when the sky fell—steeled himself, straightened up, and clasped his hands in a bow toward Xu Zhong.
Xu Zhong studied the pale-faced young scholar before him, offering a gentle smile.
"Mr. Xu, was that discourse on 'principle diversifying into particulars' your work?"
To Xu Zijin's ears, that friendly tone sounded exactly like a magistrate coaxing a death-row prisoner into a confession.
Death either way. Xu Zijin, falling back on desperate recklessness, recalled the Old Lord's strategic air in the study. Gritting his molars, he spoke up.
"It was indeed I who wrote it." Xu Zijin straightened his spine, even raising his voice. "Principle lies within concrete things, undeniable in their utility. This is not the doctrine of one school alone—it is the practical learning of the entire realm!"
Under the crushing weight of possibly being dragged out and beheaded on the spot, he laid it out methodically, without a single stammer.
Xu Zhong listened in silence, not interrupting once.
Xu Youde cradled his teacup, cheering inwardly.
That fool boy is usually such a coward, but he can actually hold his own in a crisis.
Those words were watertight, paired with his own rock-solid demeanor. Even if the Heavenly King himself descended, he would have to think twice about the foundations of the Xu household. The advantage was mine!
By the time Xu Zijin finished his exposition, cold sweat had drenched his entire back.
Xu Zhong, rather than erupting in anger, gave an appreciative nod.
"You are young, yet your thinking pierces through dusty old texts. That is rare."
At those words, Xu Zijin stood frozen, and Xu Youde nearly splashed the tea from his cup.
Xu Zhong rose, smoothed his robes, and spoke genially to Xu Zijin.
"His Excellency the Grand Secretary has not issued an indictment. He does not wish to drag this matter into the imperial court."
He paused briefly, slowing his pace.
"His Excellency said that when Scholar Xu is prepared, you should proceed to the Grand Secretary's residence today for a private discussion of scholarship."
A private scholarly discussion at the Grand Secretary's residence!
For any scholar in the realm, this was a sky-ladder of opportunity leading straight to the top.
Xu Zijin's mind reeled. Dizzy and disoriented, he stood frozen on the spot.
Xu Youde's expression shifted repeatedly. Rather than relief, the stone in his heart grew heavier.
The two words "private scholarly discussion" carried immense weight. The Grand Secretary intended to bypass those stubborn old teachers at the Imperial Academy and personally weigh the value of the Xu family's school of practical inquiry.
Whether this was a banquet of traps or a genuine pathway to glory remained unclear.
Xu Zhong did not allow them time to deliberate further. Taking his leave, he prepared to depart.
Xu Youde escorted him out through the main gate.
A carriage waited below the stone steps.
Xu Zhong stepped onto the footstool and climbed in. Just before entering the carriage, he turned back, casting a glance at Xu Zijin, who stood beside Xu Youde.
The old man's smile faded clean away, leaving a cryptic remark.
"The autumn examinations are near; time is tight. Scholar Xu, with such talent, might do well to prepare several more policy essays at home."
With that, the curtain fell, the carriage wheels turned, and it rolled slowly away.
Xu Youde stood on the steps, hands clasped behind his back, staring at the retreating procession. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
Prepare several more policy essays?
That sly old fox Xu Jie—why would he, for no reason, take it upon himself to guide some young student preparing for the imperial exams?
The topics for the Autumn Examinations had always been jointly decided by the Imperial Academy and the Grand Secretariat, with the Grand Secretary holding absolute final say.
Unless...
Xu Youde’s palms were drenched in cold sweat.
Was the Grand Secretary planning to change the policy essay questions for this year's Autumn Examinations? Was he about to incorporate these new-school teachings into the civil service examination papers?
If he took that step, it would mean a complete break with the traditional civil officials of the entire court—it would stir up a storm of blood and thunder!
Yet... this matter was far too consequential. It could never be that simple.
Xu Zijin still stood there dumbly, lost in thought: "Lord Count, that Grand Secretary... does he mean to punish me or praise me?"
Xu Youde spun around sharply, maintaining an inscrutable expression as he walked back into the mansion.
Only he himself understood—this was neither praise nor punishment. Xu Jie had just pushed the Xu family straight to the edge of a cliff.
Qinghuan! Right now, whether your old father can pull off this act depends entirely on when you spring your trap!
