Chapter Nine: The Joys of Youth Pale Before the Sorrows of Parting

Pei Min stood frozen for a long moment, unable to comprehend why Xue Na had suddenly acted that way. As he pondered Xue Na’s final words, the map Xue Na had shown him surfaced in his mind: The Protectorate General of Andong was isolated, flanked to the left by the Xi and Khitan tribes, and to the right by Silla. The border between Liaodong and the Protectorate was precisely where Goguryeo had once set up their defensive lines—rugged mountains and treacherous roads that hindered the movement of Xi and Khitan cavalry. Thus, even though the Xi and Khitan had long since torn apart their pretense of civility with the Tang, they had never troubled the Protectorate.

Launching a surprise amphibious assault on Yingzhou, though seemingly troublesome, was a clever way to bypass the enemy cavalry’s advantage. If the strike succeeded, the Xi and Khitan—unskilled in siege warfare—might even lose their hold on captured territory.

Such a move might not utterly defeat the enemy, but it would certainly achieve its aims.

To be fair, given the current combat strength of the Tang’s garrison troops, hoping to meet the cavalry archers of the Xi and Khitan head-on in the open field was unrealistic. Gaining a small advantage would already be enough.

Pei Min was well aware of Xue Na’s abilities. Since he had made up his mind, he must have some confidence in success; the intricate details would be handled by their team of strategists, and as a half-outsider, Pei Min saw no need to meddle further.

Leaving the Grand Governor’s residence, Pei Min mounted his chestnut horse and set off for his own home.

Strangely, though he had been filled with confidence before, the thought of the imminent exam results now left him feeling unaccountably uneasy. He felt assured about his performance in the first and third sessions, which involved dictation and calligraphy, but less so about the second, which tested scripture transcription—a subject wide in scope, chosen at random, and entirely a matter of luck. His answers were not poor, but neither were they outstanding. If anything went wrong, it would most likely be due to that second session.

He arrived leisurely at the entrance of the prefecture’s administrative office. Though the results had yet to be announced, more than thirty students had already gathered, awaiting their fate. They stood, craning their necks in anticipation, yet not a word was spoken. The air was thick with complex emotions that language could not express. Many knew each other, and yet not a soul spoke—so silent it was almost unsettling.

Pei Min, too, was affected by the atmosphere. His mild unease grew into a faint anxiety. Deciding not to dwell on it, he leaned against his horse, closed his eyes, and mentally rehearsed his sword techniques, wondering if there was still room to refine his eclectic style.

At the thought of the sword, Pei Min realized that his nervousness had vanished in an instant, replaced by a sense of invincibility—as though, with a sword in hand, all worries would melt away.

This discovery made him laugh quietly to himself. Thanks to his talent in the way of the sword, he could now control his own emotions—it was truly amusing.

At that moment, the doors of the examination hall swung wide open, and the Chief Secretary of Youzhou emerged holding the list of successful candidates. He was flanked by a dozen soldiers armed with spears and sabers. One of the guards called out, “Make way, make way! The Chief Secretary is about to announce the results!”

The candidates who had been crowding the notice board stepped back, while those waiting on the sidelines surged forward, desperate to know whether they had made the list.

Pei Min did not rush forward. His heart was now at peace, his confidence restored. He waited to hear his name called.

Amid the excited clamor, Pei Min heard exactly what he hoped for—his name rang out!

“The top candidate is Pei Min!” The cry was laced with both regret and envy, tinged with admiration and dissatisfaction.

Hearing those words, a smile crept across Pei Min’s lips. Securing the top spot meant his place as a tribute student was assured.

Soon after, the whispers of discontent began.

“We all knew it would be him!”

“With such a close relationship with the Grand Governor, how could it not be him?”

“I heard his qualification for the exam was a personal recommendation from the Grand Governor himself. The Grand Governor has ruled Youzhou for over a decade—have you ever heard of him recommending anyone else besides Pei Min?”

All manner of doubts and criticisms drifted into Pei Min’s ears. Those whose names appeared on the list accepted it, but those who did not began to invent reasons, speaking as if they were authorities—like ostriches, burying their heads to hide their inadequacy by slandering others and lamenting injustice.

Pei Min merely smiled at these remarks and paid them no heed. “Only mediocrity escapes envy,” he thought. If he argued with them, he would only be playing into their hands.

He had originally intended to wait for the crowd to disperse before checking the results, but now he changed his mind.

“Make way, make way…” Pei Min led his chestnut horse forward, calling out as he went.

The students at the back jostled quietly forward, yet no one dared to be so bold. All eyes turned to see who was being so brash, and the answer quickly spread: “Who is that, so arrogant?”—“Why, it’s Pei Min, of course!”

Faced with Pei Min’s assertive advance, the crowd unconsciously parted before him.

When he reached the board, he saw ten names written in red. These ten were all eligible to become tribute students and travel to the capital for the imperial exams. But only three would ultimately be selected, and as expected, Pei Min’s name stood at the very top. Reading further down, he saw Yuan Lüqian in second place and Yan Gaoqing in third—the three of them, just as he had anticipated, occupied the top ranks. The fourth name, however, surprised him: it was Pei Yu. Yuan Lüqian and Yan Gaoqing had voluntarily given up their spots, so it seemed Pei Yu would be the third tribute student to attend the exams.

Pei Min did not look further. He turned away from the crowd, a hint of swagger in his smile, mounted his horse, and rode off.

He left behind a flurry of resentful murmurs and complaints.

Since they already disliked him, he saw no reason to appease them; let them remain unhappy—they could do nothing to harm him.

Back at the Pei household, Yuan Lüqian and Yan Gaoqing, having nothing better to do, were basking in the sun and reading in the front courtyard. Seeing Pei Min return, they hurried to ask about the results.

Pei Min laughed, “Do you even need to ask? The three of us swept the top spots!”

Earlier, his smile had been laced with bravado, but now it was pure joy—the happiness of achieving a good result, the delight of sharing that happiness with true friends.

Yuan Lüqian and Yan Gaoqing both exclaimed, “As it should be!” Yuan Lüqian went on with a grin, “Let me guess. Since you’re smiling like this, things must have turned out just as you wished—the top candidate, no doubt. As for second place, in terms of talent, Yan has the edge, but this time luck was with me. Especially in the scripture transcription—I happened to have studied most of the content that appeared. So, am I second?” Seeing Pei Min nod, he laughed, “Yan, you’ll have to settle for third this time!”

Yan Gaoqing was not at all surprised and nodded, saying, “Indeed, I came in third this time. I accept my loss with good grace. Pei, lend me your fine horse—I’ll go to the market for wine and meat so we can feast tonight, to celebrate your success and to wish you future triumphs in the capital. Perhaps one day, we’ll even serve together at court.”

Pei Min’s smile faded, and he said, “Tonight we drink until we can drink no more!”

With the results announced, it was clear that the time for parting had come.

The world is vast, and who knows how many years must pass before they meet again.

That night, the three of them drank deep, never once speaking of farewell, but time, relentless, marched on.

Early the next morning, Pei Min bid farewell to the two dearest friends he had first made in this world.