Chapter Twenty-Two: Senior and Junior Brothers

Lingnan was a land of heavy rains and treacherous roads, shrouded in miasma. If one traveled through remote mountains and dense forests, venomous insects and fierce beasts abounded, so travelers generally journeyed in groups. Yet, fortunately for Li Sanjian, he took the official roads and post routes, which were easier to traverse. Along the way, there were merchants and travelers, and every few miles stood pavilions where wayfarers could rest, as well as post stations, inns, or guesthouses. It must be said, the Song court had done well in constructing such infrastructure for the convenience of scholars and merchants on the move.

Though Li Sanjian traveled alone, there was little danger. Dressed in worn Li garb, he was clearly a poor, destitute soul—hardly worth robbing or killing. Only slave traders, if he were unlucky enough to meet them, might seize him to sell elsewhere for profit. But even the boldest of those in Lingnan did not dare to ply their trade openly along official routes.

Post stations were reserved for officials and could not accommodate Li Sanjian. However, besides these, there were inns and roadside taverns, some run by local folk or merchants, and even rustic guesthouses kept by farm couples—so-called "husband and wife inns"—where ordinary travelers could find food and shelter.

Nearly there, aren’t I? Standing at a river crossing, Li Sanjian silently mused. He had come all this way through hardship, and now, with the border of Qinzhou in sight, he hoped nothing would go awry.

"Boatman, how much to cross the river?" Li Sanjian, carrying his book chest, asked the elderly ferryman.

"Five coins will do," the old man replied, pushing along with a long pole.

Nodding, Li Sanjian counted out five coppers and handed them over. The boatman, pleased, welcomed him aboard.

Before leaving home, his mother, Lady Fu, had given him the savings of one string of coins, scrimped over the years. She had also borrowed another string from Li Sanjian’s grandfather and uncles—two strings in all, nearly the entirety of the family’s possessions.

Besides these, Li Sanjian also carried twenty gold leaves gifted by Chen Yide—a fortune beyond his wildest dreams, and a grave risk as well. Thus, he kept the gold leaves hidden close, not daring to use or exchange them. If word got out that he carried twenty taels of gold, he would meet an unmarked grave—never knowing how death had come for him.

At times, Li Sanjian was tempted to cast the gold away, but worried he might need it during his studies in Qinzhou’s Lingshan County Academy. How else would he survive? He did not even know if the academy charged tuition or fees.

The ferry was small, able to carry only a dozen or so passengers. The boatman pushed off, but just then, someone came running along the bank, shouting, "Boatman, wait! One more!"

"We’re full! Please wait for the next ferry," the boatman called back. In truth, it wasn’t full; the boatmen simply disliked the effort of rowing back. Punishing work, pole or oar.

"But there’s space!" the young man, perhaps eighteen or nineteen, insisted. "Row back, I’ll pay extra!"

Money proved persuasive, and the boatmen reluctantly turned the ferry back. Yet the young man, impatient, sprinted to a broken bridge, leaped, and flew through the air toward the boat.

With a thud, he landed on the ferry, setting it rocking violently.

"What agility!" Li Sanjian exclaimed in admiration—just as the boat swayed. Unsteady, he toppled headlong toward the river.

Cries of alarm erupted from the boat. The boatmen, caught off guard, could do nothing.

As Li Sanjian was about to fall into the water, his clothes already splashed, the young man, hanging upside down from the gunwale, reached out and grabbed him.

Li Sanjian flailed in terror, struggling desperately.

"Hold still, or you’ll really end up feeding the turtles," the young man muttered.

Why not say feeding the fish? Li Sanjian thought bitterly, but nonetheless ceased struggling and resigned himself to fate.

The chill of the river’s spray brushed his face.

With a shout, using the strength of his waist and stomach, the young man hauled Li Sanjian back onto the boat, then flipped himself aboard as well.

"What a feat!" Li Sanjian, still shaken, couldn’t help but blurt out his admiration.

"My thanks, brother," he added, collecting himself and giving a respectful salute.

The young man returned the courtesy. "It was my recklessness that startled you, young sir. Please forgive me."

Most would have cursed the youth for nearly sending them into the river, but Li Sanjian offered thanks instead, which greatly increased the young man's goodwill towards him. It was not that Li Sanjian harbored no grievance, but what use was complaint after the fact? Besides, the young man had saved him, and with his upright bearing and keen eyes, Li Sanjian found him likable.

Moreover, as a lone traveler, Li Sanjian knew it was better to make a friend than an enemy.

"Let’s set off!" the old boatman called.

As the boat swayed, Li Sanjian gripped the gunwale tightly, afraid of falling again. The young man merely smiled, standing at the bow without support, unmoved by the rocking.

A light breeze played with his clothing, giving him a most dashing appearance.

"I am Li Sanjian, courtesy name Hanren. May I know your name, brother?" Li Sanjian asked.

"My surname is Yao, given name Xing, styled Shuxing," the youth replied. "And you, young sir—where are you headed on your own?"

"I am on my way to the academy in Lingshan County, Qinzhou," Li Sanjian replied.

"I see," said Yao Xing, frowning slightly. "Lingshan is but a small county. What is there to learn there?"

Li Sanjian nodded with a sigh. "True enough, but even so, it is better than my home."

"Hmm, you are not Han, are you?" Yao Xing asked, noting Li Sanjian’s Li attire.

You’re not much older than I, yet call me ‘young sir’ so formally, Li Sanjian thought, half amused, half exasperated. But he answered, "No, my father was a native of Shaowu—a true Han."

"Oh? Forgive my boldness, but your father…?" Yao Xing inquired.

"He has passed away. Only my mother remains," Li Sanjian replied, subdued.

By now, he had long since made peace with his past. In truth, Lady Fu was his mother—an unchangeable fact.

"My condolences," Yao Xing said. His own father had succumbed to illness, leaving just his mother as well; he felt a kinship with Li Sanjian. He asked softly, "Since you are Han, why this attire?"

"My mother is Li, not Han. We have always been poor. So I travel to Lingshan County for study, hoping to find a path forward," Li Sanjian replied honestly.

"A bird must first stretch its wings to soar; a man must first study to advance," Yao Xing mused with a smile. "Yet, what use is study alone?"

"Is there no use in learning?" Li Sanjian asked in surprise. "In books one may find beauty and wealth—how can study be useless?"

Yao Xing chuckled. "Perhaps, young sir, you do not know the state of our empire. The Song faces deadly foes in the north, wars in the northwest, and tribute year after year. The people suffer. A true man should set aside the brush, take up arms, and serve his country."

Li Sanjian was unconvinced. He knew, even with his scant historical knowledge, that the Song revered the civil and scorned the military. If so, what future was there in soldiering? Besides, he was hardly built for martial pursuits.

He was a pragmatist—he would pursue whatever path promised a way out of poverty. For now, study was the only viable route.

"Set aside the brush for the sword? Is it only arms that serve the nation? Can scholars not do the same?" he asked with a smile.

Yao Xing sneered. "Scholars? What do they know but scheming and intrigue?"

Court factionalism, endless strife, sapped the empire’s strength—this much Yao Xing understood. Li Sanjian did not, and Yao Xing had no wish to continue the argument.

Li Sanjian remained unconvinced, and Yao Xing, unwilling to waste words with this "barbarian child," let the conversation lapse into silence.

"Are you also traveling to study, brother?" Li Sanjian asked, seeking to ease the tension.

"I am," Yao Xing replied, glancing at him.

"And what do you intend to study?" Li Sanjian inquired, curious.

"The arts of diplomacy and the way of war," Yao Xing answered quietly.

"A fine ambition. And who will be your mentor?" Li Sanjian asked.

Do you even understand what the arts of diplomacy and warfare entail? Yao Xing thought, amused, but, finding Li Sanjian polite enough, replied, "I intend to study under Master Yingbin, to learn those arts."

Li Sanjian had no idea who Master Yingbin was. If he’d known that Yingbin was Su Shi’s younger brother, Su Zhe, he might have been astonished.

"And your own teacher, young sir?" Yao Xing asked in turn.

"My mentor is none other than Master Dongpo," Li Sanjian replied with pride.

What? Master Dongpo? Yao Xing stared at him, speechless for a long moment.