Chapter Six: Xue Ne Extends an Invitation

After recuperating at home for six days, Pei Min, in order to please his mother, set aside his sword practice entirely and devoted himself wholeheartedly to his studies. In his previous life, Pei Jingyuan had always excelled in the humanities and had majored in Chinese language and literature, harboring a deep passion for the culture of his homeland and possessing a certain mastery in the field. The original owner of this body, Pei Min, had grown up under the strict supervision of his mother, and his literary achievements were even more impressive. In the academy, his grades were consistently among the top, never falling below the highest tier—he was, by all accounts, a scholar among scholars.

Now, with the memories of both lives fused together, the ancient way of thinking and the modern mode of understanding complemented and verified each other, enabling Pei Min to reach deeper and more comprehensive insights into the ancient texts. This discovery filled him with immense joy, and he eagerly pored over the “Book of Rites,” the “Zuo Commentary on the Spring and Autumn Annals,” and other classics that had been handed down through the ages. After six days, Pei Min felt reborn in the realm of literature, his understanding broadened and enriched.

His mother was more than pleased with his diligence and rewarded him each day with his favorite dishes. On this morning, Pei Min stood before the large bronze mirror, straightened his attire, slung the book basket he had prepared the night before over his back, hung the sword he had not touched in days at his waist, and bade farewell to his mother, who was busy in the kitchen.

In ancient times, the pursuit of learning was no easy task, and to study under a renowned teacher was even more difficult, requiring substantial financial resources. However, as a member of the Pei family—a clan of considerable prestige—Pei Min’s education was supported by the family, and only a token fee was required. The Pei family’s academy in Youzhou was located in Ji City, a two-day walk from home. Pei Min typically returned to visit his mother every two months.

This time, his journey home coincided with an invasion by the Xi tribe, during which he was wounded and forced to convalesce, causing him to fall behind in his studies. Now that his mother saw he had recovered, though reluctant to part with him, she urged him to return to Ji City and continue his education.

Guided by memory, Pei Min took the familiar path along the river, leaving home as his mother watched from afar. Entering the center of Huairou County, he found that the scars left by the Xi incursion had not yet healed. Though the blood and corpses had been cleared away, mourning banners hung at every door, and nearly everyone passing by wore white mourning garments, lending a somber and lifeless air to what had once been a prosperous and lively town.

Yet whenever townsfolk passed him or caught sight of him from afar, they managed to muster a friendly smile and nod in greeting. Those who knew him well, or had previous dealings with him, would even call out, “Scholar Pei, are you off to Ji City to study? Travel safely, study hard, strive to become a distinguished scholar, and bring honor to our county!”

Especially Uncle Wang, the sesame cake vendor—whenever Pei Min traveled to Ji City, he would buy a few cakes from his stall to eat on the road. Today, before Pei Min even reached him, Uncle Wang enthusiastically pressed several cakes into his hands, refusing all attempts to pay. As for accepting money, it was out of the question.

Uncle Wang, with a look of feigned annoyance, said, “If not for you, I’d have long been a ghost beneath the blades of those Xi devils. If I took your money for a few cakes, my late wife would surely break my back from the afterlife!” As he spoke, his eyes reddened.

Unable to refuse such kindness, Pei Min accepted the cakes and, recalling that it was Uncle Wang who had first rushed out wielding a rolling pin, quickly said, “If we’re speaking of gratitude, I must thank you, Uncle. If not for your courage, I might not be standing here chatting with you today.”

Rumors now circulated wildly, painting Pei Min as the sole hero who repelled the Xi tribe—though exaggeration knew no bounds. Tales likened him to a god descended to earth, a reincarnation of legendary warriors, able to slay a man with every ten steps and leave no trace for a thousand miles, singlehandedly slaughtering a thousand foes and driving the Xi to ruin, all credit attributed to him alone.

The truth, however, was less fanciful. Pei Min was only eighteen. Though his swordsmanship was extraordinary, facing a thousand elite soldiers would have been certain death. What actually happened was that, taking the enemy by surprise and in a fit of rage, he broke through a hundred-man line, slew the Xi commander—the young lord Li Moke—throwing the Xi ranks into chaos. The people of Huairou, though numerous and strong, had succumbed to terror and abandoned resistance, submitting to slaughter. Pei Min’s act of rebellion and the slaying of the enemy leader ignited the townsfolk’s fury and courage, and they rose up, wielding whatever weapons they could find—hoes, clubs, rolling pins, kitchen knives, bricks, even iron pots and their bare hands and teeth—to attack the marauders. Even the disciplined Xi soldiers could not withstand the onslaught, and most were killed, their bodies defiled in vengeance, with only a few managing to escape.

Recalling this, Uncle Wang sighed with remorse, “If only I’d had the courage sooner, perhaps my wife…” He broke off as a customer approached, then patted Pei Min’s shoulder, saying, “Enough talk. I’d better get back to work. Study hard and do our county proud.”

Watching Uncle Wang’s slightly bowed and desolate figure, Pei Min understood that the wounds of war would not heal quickly. He composed himself, bid farewell to the villagers, and set off along the official road toward Ji City.

Ji City, by geographical reckoning, would one day become Beijing, and was the gateway to the northeast during the Tang dynasty. Emperor Yang of Sui had built Lingshuo Palace as an imperial residence in Zhuo County, and during his campaigns against Goguryeo, Ji City served as the military base for gathering troops, weaponry, and provisions. During the reigns of Emperor Taizong and Emperor Gaozong, the Tang armies set out against Goguryeo from this very city, which was the heart of logistics. Now, with the northeastern tribes growing in strength, the Tang court stationed heavy troops here to control the Xi and Khitan, making it a strategic stronghold.

But Ji City was not only of military importance; it was also a vital commercial hub connecting the northeast, its economic significance equally noteworthy.

Luck was with Pei Min on the road, for he encountered a merchant caravan. The owner, moved by his solitary journey, offered him a ride as there was space in the cart, and thus Pei Min arrived at Ji City half a day earlier than expected.

Ji City, after years of repair and the wise governance of Governor Xue Na, stood like a colossal beast upon the earth, imposing and magnificent. After thanking the caravan master, Pei Min gazed upon the city’s grandeur, marveling, “If Ji City is already so majestic, what must Chang’an and Luoyang be like?”

The Xi tribe had only recently withdrawn, so the city’s defenses were especially tight. Entry and exit required inspection of travel permits by the city garrison. The “travel permit” in the Tang dynasty was akin to a pass, allowing the bearer to traverse the empire unimpeded, from the northwest frontier to the southeastern coast, as long as one kept to the permitted routes.

Pei Min cooperatively produced his permit for inspection. Upon seeing that it was issued in Huairou County and bore Pei Min’s name, the guards immediately straightened, and, after verifying its authenticity, one of them saluted respectfully and said, “So it is Hero Pei! The Governor has ordered that should you return to Ji City, you must call upon him at the Governor’s Mansion!”