Chapter Thirteen: The Temple of Palmyra

In the southern outskirts of Zhonghe Town in Danzhou, there was a place called the Palm Grove. This was a remote wilderness, barren and desolate, breeding mosquitoes and ants, with harsh conditions, and not a single house in sight—naturally, no one lived there.

Yet now, the air was alive with voices; countless villagers of the Li family carried earth and stones, busy with the final touches on three newly constructed houses. After Su Shi and his son were driven out of their official residence, they came to the Palm Grove. The people of Danzhou, unwilling to let the father and son endure the elements, spontaneously built three simple houses for them, providing shelter. Li Sanjian and his kin were among them.

Surprisingly, among the builders were also some soldiers—not the elite troops of the Song army, but rather the half-farmer, half-soldier militia and local guards.

“So many mosquitoes and flies—what are we to do?” Li Sanjian lamented, watching swarms of insects flit about.

Nearby, Gao Er, who was helping, replied, “San, we’ll have to plant citronella, basil, catnip and such. Perhaps by next year, things will be much improved.”

Li Sanjian nodded in agreement. “Brother, you know so much.”

Gao Er grinned with pride. “Your brother here is versed in astronomy and geography, skilled in fortune-telling and divination—there’s nothing I don’t know! Back in the capital, people called me Gao the Half Immortal.”

Li Sanjian laughed at this. He knew Gao Er was shamelessly boasting; Gao Er was a destitute wanderer, once a ne’er-do-well in Kaifeng, forced to flee after offending a powerful family, and he’d entered Su Shi’s service as a personal attendant.

Gao Er had some talent for poetry and calligraphy, and could handle arms as well—which was likely why Su Shi kept him close. Though Gao Er’s origins were humble, Li Sanjian harbored no disdain; Gao Er had followed his master across great distances to this wild land, earning Li Sanjian’s genuine respect.

Li Sanjian himself was of humble birth, so the two sympathized with each other, becoming close brothers with nothing left unspoken.

...

“Daozhi, what do you think of this boy?” Su Shi stroked his beard, setting down a chess piece as he spoke.

Due to his age, Su Shi couldn’t help with the building, so he sat apart, playing chess with an old friend.

“Master Dongpo, do you mean this chess piece or that person?” Zhang Zhong asked with a smile.

Zhang Zhong, courtesy name Daozhi, was over forty, hailing from Kaifeng in the capital. Once a martial artist, he later took up the classics and passed the imperial examination in the third year of Xining.

Zhang Zhong was upright and outspoken, which led to his exile in Danzhou, where he served as the military governor of Changhua. He admired Su Dongpo’s character and talent, sympathizing with his misfortune. While Su Shi was in Danzhou, Zhang Zhong always looked after him. Upon hearing Su Shi had been expelled from his residence, Zhang Zhong, undeterred by the risk of offending superiors, sent troops to help Li Sanjian and others build Su Shi’s new home.

“Chess, or the man—which do you mean?” Su Shi asked.

“The chess move is excellent; I find no way to counter it,” Zhang Zhong replied, gazing at the board. “As for the boy, he’s remarkable—so young, yet bold enough to argue with officials and leave them speechless. I was surprised to hear it, and indeed, it’s quite intriguing!”

Su Shi smiled. “He is interesting, indeed.”

“Such promise in the young!” Zhang Zhong continued, “Most importantly, he’s compassionate toward the people and deeply respectful to his teachers. With just these traits, I believe he may achieve something in the future.”

“You praise him too highly,” Su Shi replied. “To show such sharpness at a young age is not necessarily good. When a tree stands out in the forest, the wind will surely break it; those who do not know restraint cannot accomplish great things.”

“Great things? What do you mean by that, Master Dongpo?” Zhang Zhong asked in confusion.

Su Shi shook his head and smiled, offering no answer.

Zhang Zhong did not understand Su Shi’s meaning, but seeing he was unwilling to elaborate, he refrained from pressing further.

“Daozhi, are you not afraid of implicating yourself by your actions?” Su Shi asked after a moment.

Zhang Zhong had deployed soldiers to help build Su Shi’s home. If this were discovered by higher authorities, he would surely be implicated; both men knew this well.

“At worst, I’ll lose my post and return home to farm. What does it matter?” Zhang Zhong laughed. “Besides, this place is already the ends of the earth—how much worse could it get?”

At this, Su Shi and Zhang Zhong exchanged smiles.

“Master, master! The houses are nearly finished—we can move in!” Li Sanjian ran over excitedly.

“Impudent!” Su Shi scolded. “Have you forgotten your manners again?”

Li Sanjian opened his mouth wide, stunned for a moment, then straightened his clothes and bowed. “Your pupil greets his master and General Zhang.”

“What is it?” Su Shi asked.

“Your pupil invites the master to move into the new house,” Li Sanjian replied quietly.

Like an anxious eunuch when the emperor is calm, Li Sanjian muttered inwardly—after all, it wasn’t as if he had nowhere to stay.

He could never understand why the world placed such importance on etiquette, preferring to starve, suffer, or die rather than forget it...

Can etiquette be eaten?

“You’ve worked hard,” Su Shi finally smiled.

“It’s nothing, Master; it’s what your pupil should do,” Li Sanjian replied.

Su Shi nodded. “San, what are your plans for the future?”

Plans? The sudden question left Li Sanjian unsure how to answer.

His plan was to take the imperial exam, escape poverty, and if possible, shed his lowly status. Yet he didn’t know how to express this to Su Shi.

“Your pupil wishes to serve at the master’s side for life,” he finally said.

Li Sanjian knew Su Shi worried he was too unsettled and impulsive, so he spoke insincerely.

“Tell the truth,” Su Shi said, smiling. Yet Li Sanjian, head down, didn’t see his master’s smile.

“Um... I wish to leave this place...” Li Sanjian stammered.

“How will you leave?” Su Shi pressed.

Su Shi and Li Sanjian had been teacher and student for some time; how could Su Shi not understand the boy’s heart? Li Sanjian studied diligently for a chance at academic success.

Li Sanjian looked up. “Your pupil is weak and powerless, so... so the only path is through the imperial examination.”

“The exams?” Su Shi stroked his beard. “Do you think the exams are easy? With your meager talent? Do you know how many scholars in the world strive to leap the dragon gate? How many spend their whole lives unable to cross that threshold?”

“Though your pupil is dull, I know the meaning of ten years’ obscurity, and that only through hardship can one rise above others. Whatever happens, I must try—even if it means a broken head and bloodied face, I’ll attempt it,” Li Sanjian replied calmly.

“Bravo!” Zhang Zhong exclaimed before Su Shi could speak. “A person should have ambition; perhaps then, they may achieve something.”

Su Shi shot Zhang Zhong a glance, then gently said to Li Sanjian, “San, the path of the exams is rough and thorny; even if you succeed, the official career is just as hard. How many heroes have fallen along this road? Are you still willing to try?”

“I am,” Li Sanjian replied without hesitation.

For Li Sanjian, there was no other path but study.

For his mother, he must walk this road, he told himself.

Su Shi regarded him for a moment and said, “Go, then...”

Li Sanjian was stunned. “Master, what do you mean? Where do you want me to go?”

“To study elsewhere—where else?” Su Shi replied.

“To study elsewhere?” Li Sanjian exclaimed. “The sages say, ‘With parents alive, do not travel far.’ Master, my mother is well; I cannot leave her.”

Li Sanjian knew little else, but he knew Su Shi’s literary talent was unmatched—why would he need to study elsewhere?

Su Shi laughed. “The sages also say, ‘Travel with purpose.’ Without venturing out, how can you learn from others? How can your studies progress? As for your mother, I’ll have Guo’er look after her; you needn’t worry.”

Still, Li Sanjian hesitated—he was not yet fifteen, frail and poor, and the journey would be perilous. How could his impoverished family afford the costs? He’d likely starve along the way. Families like his had no carts or animals—only their own legs. The roads of Qiong and Lingnan were hard, rife with disease. How could he travel and study?

Impossible, he thought. Surely Su Shi was not so heartless? He felt some resentment toward his master.

...

“That child is still so young—why go to such lengths?” Zhang Zhong asked after Li Sanjian left.

Su Shi replied, “I’ve already explained: his sharpness cannot last. Let him suffer setbacks, learn the world’s hardships—it will do him good.”

“True, but he’s still a child. I’ve heard he was once considered simple-minded, never traveled far. If he comes to harm, wouldn’t that be a pity?” Zhang Zhong shook his head.

“Jade must be polished to become a gem,” Su Shi said. “And without venturing out, how can he prepare for the imperial exams?”