Chapter Fifteen: Standing in the Snow at Master Cheng's Gate

“I’ll go wake your teacher,” said the old lady, intending to lead the three into the house and rouse Elder Cheng, but to her surprise, Li Zisheng blocked her path.

“Madam, I know that my honored teacher is accustomed to resting at noon. It was the heavy snow that delayed us; I am at fault for arriving at such an inopportune hour, but how could I disturb my teacher’s peaceful dreams on my account? There is no need to wake him. My parents have suffered much fatigue from our journey; I beg you to let them rest for a while, while I wait by my teacher’s door,” he said, bowing deeply.

By now, the snow was falling ever more heavily. Li Zisheng’s parents and Madam Cheng all wanted to wake Elder Cheng immediately, but each time, Li Zisheng gently dissuaded them.

As dusk deepened and the snow remained relentless, the three could only watch Li Zisheng standing outside the teacher’s door, unable to persuade him otherwise. Initially, his parents wished to wait with him, but after Li Zisheng’s earnest pleas, they had no choice but to give up the idea, anxiously watching from within and hoping Elder Cheng would soon awake.

Madam Cheng had long since draped a thick cloak over Li Zisheng’s shoulders. Seeing his stubborn resolve, she seemed to glimpse the young Cheng Zhongliang in him, her eyes brimming with tears.

The snow had piled nearly a foot deep. At last, a faint cough drifted from within the house, and the three waiting outside breathed a collective sigh of relief. By now, Li Zisheng was almost like a snowman, the snow on him no longer melting, and his brows and lashes had turned pure white. Had Elder Cheng not awoken, Madam Cheng would certainly have disregarded his protests and woken her husband herself.

The door opened quietly, warmth spilling out into the cold. Elder Cheng, cloaked and holding a teapot, suddenly saw Li Zisheng waiting outside.

Snow clung thickly to Li Zisheng, unmelted; his face was white with frost, and the snow at his feet was deeply packed. At once, Elder Cheng understood that Li Zisheng had not wanted to disturb his rest.

“Zisheng, come in, come in at once!” Cheng Zhongliang set down his teapot and hurried to usher Li Zisheng inside, his parents and Madam Cheng following into the study.

“You old thing, why didn’t you wake me? What if he’d frozen?” Cheng Zhongliang complained, his eyes full of reproach.

Before Madam Cheng could reply, Li Zisheng hastened to speak. “Master, it was I who insisted. I could not let my own arrival disturb your peaceful dreams. Whatever blame there is, let it fall on me, not on Madam.”

Looking at Li Zisheng at that moment, Cheng Zhongliang was deeply moved. Eight years old, yet outside he had not only braved the snow but also held fast to courtesy and filial piety, showing respect for his elders and concern for his parents. Neither of his parents showed the least sign of dampness—proof of his devotion and virtue. To accept such a child as a pupil—what a blessing!

“Disciple bows to Master and Madam, wishing you both blessings as boundless as the Eastern Sea, and a life as long as the Southern Mountain’s ancient pine,” said Li Zisheng, kneeling and touching his forehead to the ground.

A man’s knees are precious, yet in ancient times, to bow to the heavens, to sovereign, to parents and teachers was the proper rite—thus, his obeisance to Elder Cheng and his wife was only fitting.

“Haha, Zisheng, come, here’s a red envelope—take it quickly!” Madam Cheng beamed, growing fonder of the boy with every glance.

Li Zisheng accepted it without affectation. Seated in the main hall, Cheng Zhongliang’s face shone with joy.

“Zisheng, tell me, what is meant by ‘life as long as the Southern Mountain’?” Cheng Zhongliang asked, smiling, with a touch of testing in his tone. The phrase was a congratulatory saying from the Book of Songs, but its origins were rich and worth exploring.

“You old rascal, Zisheng hasn’t even warmed up yet and you’re already testing him. No supper for you tonight,” Madam Cheng scolded playfully. Li Zisheng’s parents stood by, smiling, content to let the exchange unfold.

“‘As long as the Southern Mountain’ comes from the Book of Songs, Minor Odes, ‘Heaven’s Blessings’: ‘May you be as constant as the moon, as rising as the sun. May your life endure like the southern mountain, never to collapse or decay. May you flourish like pine and cypress, ever flourishing and renewed.’” Li Zisheng recited calmly.

“Oh? And what is the Southern Mountain?” Elder Cheng stroked his beard.

“In the Book of Songs, in ‘Qin Wind: Zhongnan’: ‘What does Zhongnan have?’ Mao’s commentary: Zhongnan is a famed southern mountain of the Zhou. The Zuo Tradition, Year Four of Duke Zhao, says: ‘Santou, Yangcheng, Taishi, Jing Mountain, Zhongnan—these are the strongholds of the Nine Provinces.’ That is the direct meaning of Southern Mountain,” Li Zisheng replied. Cheng Zhongliang was surprised by the boy’s breadth of knowledge.

“Zisheng, how do you know all this?” he asked.

“Master, among the books you gave me, many concern history and geography. In our great Tang, history and the study of mountains and rivers are highly valued, so I read more on the subject. As it happens, my uncle’s travel notes mention Mount Zhongnan, so I learned a little,” Li Zisheng answered.

“Excellent, excellent! A teachable child indeed!” Cheng Zhongliang was delighted, and the other three were all smiles as well.

“Zisheng, after the New Year, my wife and I will be leaving here. I have been invited to Chang’an to teach the rites. Originally, I planned for you to enter the county academy and, after six months’ study, take you on to the state academy. But this has come suddenly—His Majesty intends to go to Mount Tai by way of Lingzhou for the great Fengshan ceremony; such an event comes but once in a lifetime, and I cannot refuse.”

“The Fengshan at Mount Tai? But taking the route through Lingzhou is quite the detour,” Li Zisheng remarked. Though he knew the reason from the histories, he asked nonetheless, for the details were lost with time.

“Yes, quite so. I have a nephew who serves as a court attendant to His Majesty, and he told me that this journey is twofold: to perform the sacred Fengshan ceremony, and to inspect the borders, displaying our empire’s majesty. Lingzhou lies beside the Turks, a military stronghold; passing through will overawe the Turks and the tribes nearby. But another reason is to seek out the talented throughout the realm. Thus, this is a golden opportunity for all men of talent to prove themselves,” Cheng Zhongliang said, his spirit ablaze. For a scholar of the rites, such a ceremony was a rare and momentous occasion; not every sovereign had the right to perform it. Now, in the flourishing age of the Tang, with the country at peace, the emperor virtuous and beloved, the time for the Fengshan had come.

“Thank you, Master. After the Lantern Festival, I will set out for the county academy at once,” Li Zisheng said suddenly. The others did not understand the remark, but Cheng Zhongliang laughed heartily, his heart at ease.