Chapter Sixteen: Street Riot

In the Tang Dynasty, the system of educational institutions differed from those of later generations, bearing a greater resemblance to modern schools. There were several levels: village schools, township schools, county schools, prefectural schools, and, at the highest level, the national academy. However, unlike the modern era, admission to institutions above the prefectural level depended almost entirely on one’s family background; for those from humble origins, entry was virtually impossible. Still, if one possessed extraordinary talent and received the recommendation of a high official or renowned scholar, exceptions could be made.

The village of Tianshui, where Li Zisheng lived, was under the jurisdiction of Huile County in Lingzhou—a strategic military stronghold. Consequently, the local villagers were at least eligible for direct advancement to the township school, just as Li Zisheng’s cousins, Li Zijun and Li Zixiu, attended the township school.

However, because Li Zisheng had apprenticed himself to Cheng Zhongliang as his first teacher, he was able to proceed directly to the county school. His entry was not due to any outstanding personal merit, but rather to Cheng Zhongliang’s recommendation. Being a scholar of ritual studies at the county school, Cheng Zhongliang possessed certain privileges, and it was entirely permissible for him to enroll Li Zisheng directly.

Most students at the county school came from military families, and their curriculum primarily consisted of military strategy and tactics. Yet Master Cheng’s intention was not for Li Zisheng to focus on such studies; rather, he hoped Li Zisheng would use the county school as a stepping stone to the prefectural school, where the sons of high officials studied and the resources available far surpassed those of ordinary institutions.

On the main road to Huile County, a soft recitation of text could be heard from within a carriage where Li Zisheng and his father sat amid an abundance of luggage nearly filling the entire compartment. This carriage had been hired for Li Zisheng by Cheng Zhongliang before his departure, his intention being to spare his cherished student the fatigue of travel and ensure a good first impression upon the instructors at the county school.

As a woman, Wang was not permitted to travel openly, so it was Li Zisheng’s father who accompanied him, taking the opportunity to sell the furs and pelts accumulated from winter hunting in the county market.

Outside the city gate, the guards parted to either side. Huile County, being a military stronghold, required both an entrance fee and identification documents, resulting in a long queue. With nothing better to do, Li Zisheng leafed through a book of historical anecdotes to pass the time.

“Make way, make way! Let my young master through!” a deep, commanding voice rang out.

Lifting the curtain, Li Zisheng saw three enormous and extravagantly decorated carriages speeding toward the gate. At their approach, the guards hastily cleared the crowd, opened the wooden barriers, and welcomed the carriages with obsequious smiles.

Watching this, Li Zisheng couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer power and status of high-ranking officials in this ancient era. He also found it perplexing—after all, Huile County was a critical stronghold, home to the office of the regional military governor. If memory served, Lingzhou was the original seat of the Shuofang military governor, a genuine second-rank official, whose mere footfall would send tremors through the court. How then could anyone act so brazenly here?

But these were matters beyond the reach of a minor figure like himself; for now, he would do best to mind his own business, lie low, and bide his time.

The sky was overcast, and the line moved slowly. By the time it was Li Zisheng’s turn, snow had begun to fall—a good omen for a bountiful harvest. The air was heavy with moisture; it seemed another prosperous year was ahead.

After paying the small toll, they entered the city. His father took the furs to an old customer to sell, while Li Zisheng waited at the door, listening to the spirited bargaining within. The art of negotiation was no less sophisticated than in the modern world, and a faint sense of melancholy welled up in his heart.

“How sentimental,” he chided himself. He had lived here for two years already, and long since given up hope of finding a way back.

“Bah! How dare you say my earring isn’t mine? You must have stolen it, and yet you have the gall to claim it’s yours. Shameless!”

“Nonsense! Don’t slander me. This is a keepsake from my mother—you’re the one making things up!”

Within a few exchanges, a crowd had gathered. Li Zisheng was not usually one to seek out excitement, but being small of stature, he was jostled to the very front, unable to retreat.

Standing at the center of the commotion, he observed the two principal actors: a middle-aged woman in a scholar’s robe, apparently altered from men’s clothing into a long skirt, and a rogueish young man.

“You little rascal! I never even wore these earrings, always kept them in a box. If my husband hadn’t come back today, I wouldn’t have realized they were missing. What a coincidence, running into you at the pawnshop. Give them back at once!” the woman demanded.

The rogue sneered, “Look at yourself—you’re so poor, how did you come by such fine gold earrings? Obviously, you’ve taken a fancy to mine and want to frame me. You shrew!”

The woman was momentarily speechless.

“These earrings were part of my dowry! Return them, or I’ll bring the matter before the magistrate and you’ll pay dearly,” she threatened.

“Go to the magistrate? Ha! These were my mother’s keepsake. I only meant to pawn them because I was short on money. If you drag me in front of the authorities, will that solve my urgent need? Will you take responsibility, you shrew?” The rascal had no intention of going to the authorities, especially while the earrings were still in his possession.

“My mother’s keepsake? Lies! These are clearly mine. Hand them over now, or you’re not going anywhere—I’ll stay here all day if I have to, or else we’ll go see the magistrate together.”

“Stop making a scene. I have urgent matters to attend to. If you keep this up, you’ll regret it,” the rogue threatened menacingly.

“You… you scoundrel! Watch out for retribution!” the woman stammered, her courage faltering—after all, even a powerful outsider can’t suppress a local bully.

Li Zisheng watched coldly, unwilling to impulsively intervene. The situation was far from clear—no one could say for certain whose earrings they were. Still, the crowd was naturally inclined to believe the rogue had stolen them, for his appearance alone was enough to arouse suspicion; indeed, appearances alone were enough to sway many people’s judgment.