Chapter Sixty-Five: The Prefecture of Kaifeng

The Song capital, Kaifeng Prefecture, lay at the western edge of the Yellow River's alluvial plain. The land stretched flat and open, its soil loose and fertile, with abundant water sources—an ideal place for farming and fishing. The city's name, "Kaifeng," originated in the Spring and Autumn Period, when Duke Zhuang of Zheng chose this site to build a granary fortress, naming it "Qifeng" to signify the opening and expansion of borders. It was only in the Han dynasty, to avoid the taboo of Emperor Jing's name, that it was changed to Kaifeng.

Yet, the Song capital of Kaifeng was not built upon the foundation of ancient Qifeng. Its true predecessor was the great city of Daliang, capital of Wei during the Warring States period. The Wei called it Daliang; the Han referred to it as Chenliu Commandery; the Song merely borrowed the name Kaifeng Prefecture.

Chenliu sat at the crossroads of the realm, its outskirts connecting in every direction.

In short, from the pre-Qin era through the Han, Wei, Jin, and Five Dynasties, Kaifeng—despite wars and disasters—remained a vital city in the Central Plains, thanks to its rich land, numerous population, and strategic location.

In the first year of Jianlong, Zhao Kuangyin, Chief of the Imperial Guards under the Later Zhou, seized the empire through the Chen Bridge mutiny. After fervent debate at court, he established the capital at Kaifeng Prefecture, officially naming it the Eastern Capital.

By the third year of Jianlong, Emperor Taizu Zhao Kuangyin, feeling the Eastern Capital was too cramped, issued an edict to expand the city. After continuous renovations, it reached its present grandeur.

The Eastern Capital comprised the Outer City, the Inner City, and the Palace City. The Palace City, also known as the Great Interior or the Forbidden Center, was the very heart of Kaifeng Prefecture.

Dozens of palatial halls rose within the Palace City, majestic and splendid. Besides the main palaces, halls, pavilions, chambers, towers, terraces, verandas, temples, and kiosks were scattered like stars. The Palace City was encircled by brick walls, with seven gates: three to the south and four facing other directions.

The Inner City, also called the City of Que or the Inner Precinct, had ten main gates and two corner gates, making twelve in all. Its most notable feature was its surrounding moat.

The Outer City—also known as the New City, Luo City, or National City—had both main and side gates, the latter known as barbicans, with their outer doors clad in wrought iron. In total, there were more than ten gates. Beyond the Outer City lay a moat or defensive river, referred to as the Dragon Guard River.

The Palace City was, of course, the residence of the emperor, empress dowager, empress, and consorts. The Inner City housed the offices of various government ministries, as well as many eateries, entertainment quarters, shops, temples, and shrines. The Outer City was mainly the domain of ordinary citizens, though many officials' mansions, temples, and shops could also be found there.

The entire expanse of the Eastern Capital stretched more than eighty li, its defenses exceedingly thorough. The Outer City alone had twelve gates, six watergates, walls over forty feet high and nearly sixty feet thick, and every manner of fortification—barbicans, horse faces, round towers, parapets, moats, drawbridges—nothing was lacking.

It was as impregnable as a fortress of iron and stone. As long as tens of thousands of elite troops defended it, with ample supplies of food and water, it could never be taken—unless there was treachery within, or the defenders lost their wits.

The vastness of the Song capital, Kaifeng Prefecture, surpassed anything Li Sanjian and his companions had imagined. Li Sanjian never expected Kaifeng to be so immense, so boundless as to defy the eye.

Yet at this moment, Li Sanjian was in no mood to marvel at the city's grandeur or prosperity.

It was a certain December day in the Shaosheng era. When Li Sanjian and his companions arrived at the Eastern Capital, they felt only one thing: cold. Two words: bitterly cold. Five words: unbelievably, damnably cold...

Goose-feather snowflakes fell thick from the sky, settling on rooftops, city walls, and streets, refusing to melt, forming a thick white blanket. Each step on the ground brought a crisp, crunching sound.

The entire Kaifeng Prefecture was shrouded in a silvery world, clad in white, the scene of breathtaking beauty.

"Master Li, thank you for your care along the way. I must take my leave now," Li Sanjian said, teeth chattering despite his heavy cotton coat, as he bowed tremulously to Li Gefei.

Li Gefei, Li Qingzhao, Gao Er, and the others fared better, having long lived in the capital and being northerners; they were well accustomed to the biting northern wind.

But Li Sanjian, Zeng Gongming, and Shankui had all grown up in the south, true sons of the southern lands, never having endured such bitter cold. They would have swaddled themselves in every available scrap of winter clothing if they could.

Shankui, robust as he was, had turned blue and black from the cold. Li Sanjian and Zeng Gongming were so frozen they could barely speak; Zeng Gongming was huddled in the carriage, refusing to come out, layers of fat wrapped in layers of thick clothing. No one knew what use all that flesh served him.

Little Soybean’s cheeks were flushed red from the cold, yet she nestled in Madam Fu’s arms, eyes sparkling with excitement as she took in everything about Kaifeng.

"Indeed," Li Gefei nodded. "I wish you swift success in the examinations. If you encounter any difficulties, you may come to me."

Throughout the journey, Li Gefei had conversed with Li Sanjian several times. Though Li Sanjian was young and at times a bit immature in his judgments, his insights were often unique. This made Li Gefei view him in a new light.

He was nothing like an ordinary youth of a dozen years; Li Gefei had thought this more than once.

"Thank you, Master Li," Li Sanjian replied. "I shall call upon you another day."

As he spoke, his roguish eyes stole a few furtive glances at Li Qingzhao’s carriage. Alas, the heavy curtain had long since been lowered, and not a trace of her could be seen.

Li Sanjian sighed inwardly.

During the journey, he had spent considerable time with Li Qingzhao, the two often discussing poetry, prose, and the great classics.

The longer they spent together, the more Li Sanjian admired her. Truly a prodigy of her time, her literary talent was unmatched. Only, at present, her fame had yet to spread through the world.

His admiration for Li Qingzhao deepened. Talented and virtuous, gifted in both character and looks, a peerless beauty—such a woman stirred in Li Sanjian the sudden thought of taking her as his wife.

To win such a bride—what more could a man desire?

But as soon as this spark arose in his heart, Li Sanjian himself swiftly doused it.

For in this world, marriage was a matter of matched families, of status and lineage. Li Qingzhao, without a doubt, was born to a great household—a lady of noble birth, a scion of wealth and power. How could someone as humble as Li Sanjian ever aspire to such heights?

To have glimpsed her beauty along the way was already a blessing earned from eight lifetimes, a stroke of unimaginable fortune.

Li Sanjian was painfully clear about this.

"Fragrant wood encased in icy soul, feelings as lofty as heaven’s pillar, yet no wine for solace," Li Sanjian softly recited a seven-character regulated verse, then waved to Shankui. "Let’s go."

"Yes, master," Shankui replied, whipping the carriage onward into the city.

Though Li Sanjian’s poem was softly spoken, it was heard as clear as day by Li Qingzhao, curled within her carriage and listening to the sounds outside.

At his words, she felt as if struck by thunder, her cheeks burning crimson with shame.

Was he likening the snow to something else? she wondered inwardly.

Throughout the journey, though she and Li Sanjian had not been overly intimate, they had spent many days together. Li Sanjian was handsome and gifted, and the stories he told—strange tales unheard by anyone else in this world—captivated her completely. Thus, she found herself growing increasingly fond of him.

Was this the first stirrings of love? Li Qingzhao did not know, nor did Li Sanjian.

"Heh, that cheeky rascal," Li Gefei said, half laughing, half exasperated.

This fellow dared flirt with his precious daughter through poetry, right before his very eyes—utterly audacious.

Yet, however forward Li Sanjian might have been along the way, he had always treated Li Qingzhao with respect—at least in Li Gefei’s view. For that, he could hardly bring himself to take offense.

Yes, he’s just a cheeky rascal, Li Qingzhao agreed inwardly. Li Sanjian’s hands and feet were never honest—did he think she didn’t notice his little liberties?

Where would he live? Did he have a place to stay? Would he fare well in the examinations? Li Qingzhao lifted the carriage curtain for a furtive glance, watching the direction in which Li Sanjian and his companions departed, but the swirling snow had already swallowed them from view.

"Silk catkins and elm shadows grow thin, spared from the summer heat behind the fence," Li Qingzhao murmured quietly.

...

Stay at an inn? Li Sanjian quickly dismissed the thought.

For Li Sanjian, Madam Fu, Shankui, and Little Soybean to lodge at an inn would cost a fortune; Kaifeng's prices were surely not cheap, he thought, and it was simply beyond his means.

The best course was to find some secluded spot, perhaps a farmhouse or a commoner's home, and see if he could rent it to settle his family.

Even so, he would not last long, for he had no idea how many days he would need to spend in Kaifeng.

As for Gao Er, Li Sanjian could not count on him; Gao Er himself did not know what his own fate would be.

"Is that Brother Hanren and Brother Donglin ahead?" Suddenly, through the white expanse, Li Sanjian and Zeng Gongming heard someone calling their names.

Li Sanjian turned back and saw a figure trudging through the snow, a large bundle strapped to his back, its odd shapes hinting at hard objects within.

"And you are…? How do you know us?" The stranger was covered in snow, his beard and hair as white as his coat; Li Sanjian did not recognize him at first.

"Ha! To meet an old friend in a distant land—Brother Hanren, Brother Donglin, how have you been?" The man reached them, beaming and laughing heartily.

"You… you… Ha! So it’s you—Brother Mingshi, how did you turn up here?" Zeng Gongming, bundled in thick clothing, poked his head out of the carriage and laughed.

Who could it be but Ran Yunbiao?

"It’s a long story," Ran Yunbiao replied. "Why don’t we find a tavern, share some wine, and catch up?"

"Brother Mingshi, I’ve not yet found a place to stay," Li Sanjian shook his head.

"I see," Ran Yunbiao answered. "I arrived in Kaifeng a few days before you, so I know my way around. Let me handle this."