26. The Library

The next moment, Cui Xiu saw Cui Qianting as if he had sensed the thoughts of these few little rascals. Without hesitation, he grabbed the back of Marquis Cui En’s neck with a firm grip and swiftly left the room. His footsteps were light as he headed toward the tallest watchtower within the mansion.

The watchtower, originally a building exclusively affiliated with the imperial court, was used by local authorities to monitor fires and by the military to scout enemy movements. The Cui family possessed such a structure because the Martial Emperor specifically ordered its construction. Though not as grand as the nine-story watchtower within the palace, this five-story tower was the tallest non-official building in Daxing County.

From the top floor, one could observe the entire Daxing County—ornate beams and painted rafters, a scene of wealth and prosperity.

Of course, Cui Xiu had only heard this description from Nurse Yu.

After Cui Zhen left, the watchtower had been sealed off.

After all, this tower once served the Martial Emperor to suppress various factions and faced the palace watchtower at a distance.

If the palace guards on duty detected anyone spying on the imperial palace from the watchtower, alarms could be sounded, and troops could even be sent to search the residence of the Duke.

Thinking of the tower’s sensitivity, Cui Xiu felt a sudden chill at the nape of his neck.

Yet inside the mansion, lanterns burned alongside the bright moonlight, casting shadows on Cui Qianting’s light and graceful figure, moving like a dragon in flight, exuding carefree elegance. The so-called “hostage,” Marquis Cui En, did not resist; in fact, his movements were rather deft, striking elegant, dancing poses.

From Cui Xiu’s point of view, the two seemed to rise beyond ranks, as if reaching for stars and moon in the celestial palace, truly like immortals in their charm. It brought to mind an old verse: “Silver saddles shining on white horses, swift as shooting stars.”

It was impossible not to feel a longing stirring in the heart.

It made one's pulse race uncontrollably.

Casting quick glances to the sides, Cui Xiu looked at his two elder brothers, whose expressions were calm to the point of numbness, confirming that their two elders would not suffer misfortune for trespassing the watchtower. With that assurance, he could no longer restrain the pounding heartbeat within his chest and admired them profoundly: “Brother Hu, Brother Cong, when will I learn the art of lightness skill?”

To master both the pen to bring peace to the world and the sword to set the realm aright—that was the ultimate dream and pursuit!

What young man would not wish to be skilled in both literature and martial arts?

Cui Cong looked at his usually steady younger brother, who was shouting and lively like a mischievous child, not the rigid, courteous scholar he often appeared to be. He smiled and teased, “Look, even Brother Xiu envies them so much. Now I understand why those noble ladies described as graceful and virtuous in stories love wandering knights. Such scenes are beautiful—escaping the rigid shackles of etiquette, fleeing pressures to steal a moment’s leisure, even embodying the romantic ideal of ‘envying only the mandarin ducks, not the immortals.’”

“Truly beautiful.”

If the two departing were not genuine full brothers, he, as both son and nephew, would dare to joke openly—they seemed like stern father and loving mother!

Hearing such a comparison abruptly, Cui Xiu was left dumbfounded.

“Cui Cong, be careful with your words. If your uncle hears you joke like this, he’ll cripple you.” Cui Hu avoided looking at the figure blending into the night, hastily warning, “He left by gripping my father by the neck. Honestly, if he doesn’t go out to cool off and see which household’s lights are bright tonight, to see others tossing and turning in worry, he might direct all his anger at us tomorrow.”

It was rare to hear his cousin name him so seriously. Cui Cong’s laughter faded, his expression growing somber. He gazed at the brilliant Milky Way and the imposing silhouette of the Duke’s mansion under the night, speaking in a low voice, “Fate is indeed unreasonable. Especially these titles and rules. If my father were the eldest brother, at least he could rightfully say, ‘The eldest brother is like a father,’ and properly educate his younger brothers to obey!”

Compared to inheriting the title as the eldest legitimate son, Cui Qianting probably valued the natural “right to educate” among brothers even more.

Hearing this sigh, Cui Xiu suddenly felt as if countless sharp arrows had pierced his heart, causing him unbearable pain.

Having practiced martial arts, even if only jogging and kicking, he understood how difficult training was.

One’s energy was limited.

To be proficient in both literature and martial arts, one must exert a million times more effort than others, even sacrificing rest and leisure.

And Cui Qianting’s mastery of both was surely genuine.

So… it was heart-wrenching.

Such dedication, only to end up scorned as a clown in stories, with the Duke’s mansion held hostage by political enemies and ruined because of him.

He dared not even think about this.

Thinking of it only made the pain worse.

“Well…”

Hearing his younger brother’s voice tremble with what sounded like sobbing, Cui Cong snapped back to reality, fearing that his previously low mood might cause this sharp-minded brother to parrot everything to their father. He quickly smiled, bending down to hug Cui Xiu, “There’s nothing to fear, little brother. What I said was just in passing. Think about it—if our father were the eldest son, with his proud and stubborn temper, quick to fight, we might already be six feet under.”

“Many dramas portray it well: one generation of a great general is enough; if the descendants all succeed, they will be feared by the emperor.”

“Exactly.” Cui Hu, noticing his dazed younger brother, also reassured him, “There’s nothing to fear. Those two brothers each have their strengths and weaknesses; they need each other. Simply put, if they quarrel badly, the emperor might actually feel more at ease. A happy emperor means good days for us. Like, little brother, you can focus more on your training and studies!”

Meeting his brothers’ worried gazes, Cui Xiu fell silent for a moment, suppressing a thousand thoughts, then nodded heavily, “Studying well and training hard are most important!”

“You’re quick to understand!” Cui Cong pinched Cui Xiu’s cheek, saying, “Let’s go back to the academy. Tonight, you’ll sleep with us. If Master Pei gets angry tomorrow, remember to speak well of us.”

Covering his face, Cui Xiu carefully said, “I’ll tell Master Pei to listen to different opinions. As the saying goes, ‘Among three, there is always a teacher for me.’ When I and Uncle went out, I heard someone mention the origin of 'The Thousand Family Poems' is from ‘Chen Ji, the old county magistrate, ordering his younger brother to visit Master Si at Qingyuan, and giving him the record.’”

He quickly scanned his two brothers’ expressions.

Both showed identical stupefied confusion.

Cui Xiu weakly added, “Is this okay? Should I ask Master Pei if he knows the origin of this poem?”

“Let’s start ‘The Thousand Family Poems’!”

“You’re amazing, little brother! We’ll test Master Pei tomorrow!” Cui Hu laughed, glancing at Cui Cong — “Learn from your brother!”

Cui Cong simply rolled his eyes.

Like Cui Hu, he had focused on martial arts since childhood, only briefly introduced to literature according to custom.

With Marquis Cui En as the baseline, Master Pei and even Cui Qianting didn’t press them too hard on literature, only recently cramming for exams.

Fearing his younger brother might say something hard to answer on the way to the academy, Cui Cong changed the subject and gossipingly asked, “Little brother’s amazing. Speaking of exams, I’m curious—the second question was set by the Martial Emperor himself for big brother. Brother Hu, do you have any insider news? It doesn’t look like the Martial Emperor wants to spoil big brother.”

Cui Xiu nodded strongly.

No historical record showed any Martial family descendant receiving imperial education like Marquis Cui En!

Noticing Cui Xiu’s bright eyes, Cui Hu fell silent, recalling the younger brother’s earlier detailed recount of the long question’s origin. He looked up at the starry sky, calmly asking, “Then do you think your uncle would spoil me?”

The words struck like thunder. Cui Cong nearly dropped Cui Xiu and grabbed Cui Hu for a fight, shouting, “My father is practically hand-holding you in teaching, way more serious than with me!”

Facing his brother’s fierce glare, Cui Xiu’s eyes shone even brighter.

The Martial Emperor truly was a broad-minded and great ruler, able to accommodate not only generals with military achievements but also their talented heirs.

Cui Hu caught the gleam in Cui Xiu’s eyes and momentarily thought his brother might be the legendary genius not seen in a century—understanding the meaning behind his question.

Reflecting on this, Cui Hu stepped back several paces, dodging Cui Cong’s attack, and said, “You know, I’ve been serious about martial arts all these years, sweating, crying, and bleeding. But what’s the result? I still can’t even leap across the lake at home, and I’ve only reached the second level in spear and magic techniques.”

“Ever since my father planned for me to survive by exile, hoping I’d have success breaking out of prison and retreating to the wilds, he’s been stern with my martial lessons. To ensure I learned horsemanship well, he even signaled Uncle to take me to live in the village, so he wouldn’t have to see or worry.”

After citing his diligent study, Cui Hu smiled bitterly, “So it only proves one thing: talent really exists.”

“My talent is still better than my father’s, and I’m more hardworking, right?”

“I’m still stuck; how could he get ahead?”

His words were reasonable, even tinged with frustration. Cui Cong felt helpless hearing this. After a long silence, he pinched Cui Xiu’s cheek, eyes filled with pity.

From his understanding of their father, Cui Qianting’s life goal was the glory of the Cui family! Outwardly, he tolerated Marquis Cui En’s harsh training plan, but truly it was to keep Cui Hu anxious and motivated, lest the heir lose interest in studying.

Even Cui Qianting’s having children with Lady Liu was probably a calculated move to cultivate more talented descendants. From them, one gifted son might pass imperial exams, rise to power, and bring honor to the family and prosperity to the eldest uncle.

This philosophy was not wrong.

But when the eldest uncle was unreliable, talent alone couldn’t cover for it.

For example, Marquis Cui En dared to write on his exam paper, “After my flowers bloom, all other flowers die; the city is clad in golden armor,” clearly with a rebellious tone.

Cui Cong dared not think further about the troublesome eldest uncle or voice his suspicions about their father. Instead, he smiled and said, “Whether one ‘gets enlightened’ is relative, Cui Xiu. Remember tonight well. If you ever feel unable to persist in studies or martial arts, think of your father. Cui Qianting is so miserable—a powerful duke’s legitimate second son, burdened by family troubles, unable to fully display his talent, even needing to guard against his brother’s madness and assassination attempts on the emperor. Yet he finds joy, learning to drag his brother to see others worse off.”

“Let’s remember to compare misfortunes; no need to dwell on others’ strengths. Otherwise, there’s always someone better!”

Hearing such earnest and unique advice, Cui Xiu nodded vaguely, “Thank you, brother, I will remember it well.”

“And learn to apply it. Think about how to apply it.” Cui Cong’s eyes brightened, gently guiding, “For example, if we don’t make the list tomorrow and Master Pei gets furious, how will you use the ‘compare misfortunes’ theory to soothe him?”

Cui Hu immediately looked at Cui Xiu with bright eyes.

Facing their brothers’ eager gazes, Cui Xiu thought hard and said, “I’ll tell Master Pei that Su Laoyuan started studying at twenty-seven, and his third son became famous worldwide. We’re not in a hurry; brothers are still young.”

The brothers both gave thumbs up, praising, “That’s our little brother—both beautiful and wise.”

“Exceptionally intelligent.”

“Hearing such unprecedented praise, Cui Xiu returned to the academy’s simple dormitory. Having bathed in medicinal herbs, he looked around at the bare communal bed, just like the servants’ quarters—simple and humiliating.

Biting his lip to keep from recalling the bleak past, he glanced at his two brothers already sitting on the bed.

“What are you dazed about? Come rest well. We have to get up early.” Cui Hu pointed to the middle spot, “Let Lan Yue lay out the little tiger quilt. Little brother, you cover yourself well and sleep soundly, be strong and adorable.”

Hearing such sincere, protective words, Cui Xiu bowed solemnly, “Thank you, Brother Hu.”

Cui Cong waved the Analects in his hand, “No thanks? Then I won’t read Analects to lull someone to sleep later.”

Seeing Cui Cong’s mock anger, Cui Xiu quickly bowed again, “Thank you, Brother Cong.”

His voice cracked slightly, betraying a hint of tears.

It turned out his brothers truly could recite the Analects, did not see him as an embarrassment, nor send him to servants’ quarters to serve tea, grind ink, run errands, clean courtyard, or wash socks and clothes—only showing kindness when he was useful.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry. I’m just teasing.” Cui Cong quickly uncovered the bed, got up, and gently held his brother, “Tomorrow I’ll take you for candied hawthorn to make it up to you, okay?”

“Here, little tiger doll.” Cui Hu teased, handing the doll to him.

Cui Xiu hugged the doll tightly, looked up at his two brothers, and felt his eyes betray him. Tears flooded like a torrent, unstoppable.

“I... I don’t want candied hawthorn, I want...”

“Say what you want. Brother Hu, the honorable heir of the Rongguo Mansion, surely can get it if he can’t. If he can’t, we’ll ask Uncle.” Cui Cong said proudly.

Hearing this, Cui Xiu grabbed his brother’s hand, then glanced at his cousin who gave his promise, and said clearly, “I want ‘Chen Ji, the old county magistrate, ordering his younger brother to visit Master Si at Qingyuan, and giving him the record’!”

“If other children know it, why don’t I?”

Hearing this explosive, almost fierce and tearful statement, Cui Cong and Cui Hu exchanged looks, both shocked, thinking: Could our brother/cousin be the divine star of literature incarnate?!

“Tomorrow we’ll find Master Pei! He must know!” Both brothers coaxed in unison, “Let’s rest now and gather strength.”

Looking at their gentle coaxing but sincere concern in their eyes, Cui Xiu obediently tucked himself in under the little tiger quilt, closed his eyes, and fell asleep peacefully.

If Master Pei doesn’t know ‘The Thousand Family Poems’ tomorrow, he’ll ask himself.

After all, he had secretly heard it from other young geniuses today!

Cui Hu and Cui Xiu smiled, watching their brother almost fall asleep on his pillow, even hearing him lightly snore from fatigue. They exchanged smiles, blew out the lights, and went to sleep themselves.

They had to get up early to train tomorrow, maybe even face punishment.

Compared to the pure, peaceful sleep of the three Cui boys, many others tossed and turned all night, staring anxiously at the Daxing County Examination Office.

Inside, lamps burned as bright as day.

Although all procedures followed strict rules, Xie Zhongyuan examined the first batch of disqualified papers—meaning those with format violations, not following the eight-legged essay style, failing to avoid taboo words, with damage or corrections, or blank submissions.

Looking through the thick stack, Xie Zhongyuan’s eyes settled on the first paper, with its flowing, vigorous handwriting almost carved into the paper:

“How can one speak of ‘raising without teaching’ when the mother bears but the father does not raise? Thus, the ‘teaching’ in raising should be that of the ruler-father. As the saying goes, Heaven, Earth, Sovereign, Parent, Teacher—the sovereign-father stands foremost among blood relations.

If the father leads by word and deed, does not kill brothers or fathers, usurp the throne, then he is like the North Star, beloved by the world, admired by the people.”

Without even reading the name, he knew the author of this paper—Marquis Cui En!

This…

In his past life, he might have committed countless sins, killing Marquis Cui En’s ancestors. Now, in this life, he worried for his own ancestors.

If this paper were submitted to the emperor—

Even if he served the Virtuous Emperor, someone’s head might roll.

Feeling a chill, Xie Zhongyuan glanced at the copyist transcribing the second question across from him, forcing himself to focus on his role as chief examiner.

Previously, copyists were limited to county students without sponsorship, local ritual clerks, and the deputy examiners from the Ministry of Rites, totaling fifteen.

Though over 800 papers were tight, they could be transcribed within two days.

Now, with numbers doubled to 1,600, even adding four more copyists would still take four days.

The longer this dragged on, the more lively the crowds outside the Examination Office would be.

Indeed, as Xie Zhongyuan predicted, things were lively. At dawn, new memorials arrived, but the Virtuous Emperor still withheld the results.

Court officials had various interpretations but eventually tacitly agreed to wait for the county rankings.

To see how Marquis Cui En’s answers fared.

After all, some matters, even after decades, still affected the living and were recorded in daily logs.

Only when the exam results were announced could they show their true colors and examine Marquis Cui En’s papers.

Being watched, Marquis Cui En rested his cheek on the arm of little Cui Xiu, who was clinging to his thigh and pouted, “Old Pei is busy asking about the county exams. Why are you so anxious?”

“He wants you to find ‘The Thousand Family Poems’!” Cui Hu massaged his father’s shoulders and briefly explained, “That poem with the super long title. Master Pei isn’t at home; he asked Uncle. Uncle said he vaguely remembers it’s used for civil official children’s education.”

“Then go ask him for it yourself.” Marquis Cui En cracked sunflower seeds, showing confusion, “I understand matters of food and drink, but this...”

“Uncle said after returning to the capital, he once shared a study with you,” Cui Cong carefully guided the forgetful elder uncle. “Think about it—when he first returned, elders wanted you to get along, so you played together. Your study had books specifically for the upper study.”

In his younger years, Cui Qianting had studied military classics by the Martial Sage and, before age seven, could recite military strategy and history backward. He only glanced at the books and didn’t pay much attention.

Marquis Cui En thought hard but could not recall, finally saying, “Why not just check the storeroom? I don’t study anymore; they’re all piled up there. Or ask Nurse Yu; she might know better!”

Hearing this, Cui Cong smiled awkwardly, whispering, “Uncle, your storeroom has… family heritage.”

Saying those last words, he glanced at Cui Hu, who was fanning their father.

Seeing this, Cui Xiu nervously swallowed and looked hopefully at Cui Hu.

He had just learned the Cui family possessed a five-hundred-year-old collection of scholarly books.

Seeing the two younger brothers’ pleading eyes, Cui Hu glanced around to confirm they were alone, then lowered his voice, “Father, the storeroom holds books from the maternal family. Uncle once instructed that unless there are two successful scholars at home, these should not be shown off.”

The Zhang family was not a scholarly family by imperial exam but an official family with alternating civil and military officials. Their genealogy lasted five centuries. They produced upright ministers who died advising foolish rulers, and those Marquis Cui En despised as the “Gentleman Faction”—who withdrew when the country was in chaos, ignoring the common people.

As the only blood relative of the Zhang family now, Cui Hu could not say his ancestors were wrong to hide their heritage.

Because the Zhang family preserved the “Taiyi Pavilion” intact.

This Taiyi Pavilion was a historically famous library, inspiring many in the previous dynasty to build similar private collections, creating a cultural golden age.

Because the Zhang family patriarch decreed “books not divided by generation, books do not leave the pavilion,” over generations the collection grew to include classics, histories, essays, military strategy, agriculture, law, calligraphy, inscriptions, and rare manuscripts. It even contained facsimiles of memorials and imperial replies collected secretly by Zhang family elders.

This last part was the most precious family heirloom.

Political struggles were always similar in nature.

Studying history was less useful than first learning how to analyze and summarize past events.

Of course, the Zhang family’s ancestors might have had good intentions, but their descendants’ execution was problematic.

Also, the last heir of the Zhang family, Cui Hu’s maternal uncle, was somewhat disreputable, dreaming the next generation would become officials or even emperors, thus embroiled in factional disputes.

The Crown Prince Duanhui and the Third Prince fought over the Yellow River flood, using the lives of downstream people as pawns. Though the prince later repented and drowned in the Yellow River, the Martial Emperor was enraged.

Moreover, the Martial Emperor was famously biased, believing that even if the crown prince erred, it was the tutor’s fault for corrupting his precious son. He first held the crown prince’s tutor responsible.

He razed three Zhang family clans to the ground; the remaining kin within five degrees were exiled.

Yet, thanks to the Martial Emperor’s partiality, he trusted Cui Zhen and especially Marquis Cui En more than his own sons. With a fatherly concern, he insisted that daughters from scholarly families must bring substantial benefits to scholarly families. So he sent Cui Zhen to have the Zhang family books copied.

It was said Cui Zhen did not dare to find anyone else, so he went directly to Cui Qianting.

Thinking about it, Cui Qianting was indeed miserable—secretly copying books for ten years.

Yet he still insisted these books belonged to Marquis Cui En alone.

Even when risking everything to use the heir’s status to get the storeroom key, Cui Qianting refused to give it.

Cui Hu ended with a hint of grievance, “If you didn’t say anything, all would be mine to handle!”

Reminded by his son, Marquis Cui En remembered he did possess his wife’s precious family treasures.

He gazed at Cui Hu, noting his pure and magnanimous look like himself. After a pause, Marquis Cui En proudly said, “With that silly poem of yours, if you don’t start studying those books now, Father fears he’ll never be able to leave the house.”

After the teasing, he glanced at bright-eyed Cui Xiu and the nervous-looking Cui Cong, his expression turning serious as he admonished, “Cui Cong, Cui Xiu, those books were copied by your father personally. Honestly, if I weren’t favored, he wouldn’t have had the chance. Besides the title, I can share with him fifty-fifty, but these books were your late aunt’s dowry, meant for Cui Hu’s descendants.”

“By custom, coveting a woman’s dowry is utterly despicable. I’m letting you into the storeroom now—that’s cutting off the family line!”

Hearing Marquis Cui En’s sudden stern tone and sharp words, Cui Xiu stiffened all over.