Isolated town in northern border region

When the news came from the Imperial Academy, Jiang Min was brewing tea in the warm pavilion of the Jing Kingdom's temporary palace.

The silver spoon in her hand paused on the rim of the cup, and a drop of tea spilled, seeping onto the table like a stain of ink that hadn't yet dried. She looked down at the drop of water slowly seeping into the wood grain, but instead of wiping it away immediately, she put down the silver spoon and read the copied notice again from beginning to end.

The notice stated that Xiao Lie, the King of the Northern Frontier, had established an engineering department at the Imperial Academy, recruiting craftsmen and personally teaching them arithmetic, geometry, and the study of natural philosophy.

After reading it, she was silent for a moment, then said, "He's started teaching."

The palace maid standing nearby didn't understand the weight of those words, and simply stood there with her hands at her sides, waiting a while before softly asking, "Princess, the tea has gone cold."

Jiang Min didn't reply. She folded the notice, tucked it into her sleeve, and gazed at the sky outside the window. Dusk was creeping in from afar, casting a deep silhouette against the eaves of the palace. She stood by the window for a long time, until the tea had completely gone cold, until the birds outside had all returned to their nests, before turning and saying, "Prepare the carriage; we're going to the main tent."

She was going to see Jiang Jun.

Jiang Jun was looking at a map in the main tent. The outline of the northern frontier was circled again and again with a vermilion brush, from Cangzhou to Youzhou, from Yongzhou to Qingzhou. Xiao Lie's territory was like an ever-expanding ink blot, gradually swallowing up the borders he had originally drawn.

When Jiang Min came in, he didn't say anything, but simply placed the notice on the map, obscuring the outline of the northern frontier.

Jiang Jun glanced down at the notice, picked it up, read it, placed it on the table, and remained silent for a moment.

Then he said, "He's teaching people."

Jiang Min said, "Yes."

"It's not about teaching craftsmen how to work, it's about teaching them to read."

"right."

Jiang Jun tapped his fingers twice on the table, a very light rhythm, as if measuring an unsettled interval. He looked up at Jiang Min and said, "He used to draw blueprints and have craftsmen follow them; that was something in his own head. Now he's teaching people; that's about transferring that stuff from one person's head to a group of people's heads."

Jiang Min remained silent.

Jiang Jun folded the notice, put it in the drawer, stacked it with the previous copy, and then said, "What he's about to bring out is bigger than a steam engine, a musket, or a chariot."

"so what?"

"Therefore, we can't let him teach in peace and quiet."

Jiang Jun stood up, walked to the map, and traced an arc southward along the border between Yan and Shu, stopping in the heart of Chu. He glanced back at Jiang Min and said, "You go."

Jiang Min said, "He might not let me go."

"He will," Jiang Jun said calmly. "The Yan and Shu kingdoms will both make a move, putting on a show of force. The powerful families in the Chu court are most afraid of war; they will pressure Xiao Lie to bring you back."

"What if he holds on?"

"Then he's misbehaving towards the Princess of Jing." Jiang Jun turned to look at her. "Misbehaving towards the Princess of Jing is an insult to the prestige of my Jing Kingdom. Isn't that a strong enough reason?"

Jiang Min didn't answer. She stood there, the warmth of the tea completely dissipated from her sleeves, replaced by a chill that crept up from her fingertips. The chill was subtle, like a river flowing along her bones, not yet fully formed, but already palpable as it extended in a certain direction. She was silent for a moment, then said, "When should I leave?"

"tomorrow."

Jiang Min nodded, turned and walked out. As she lifted the curtain, the night wind rushed in, causing the oil lamp on the table to flicker. The edge of the notice pressed against the outline of the northern frontier curled up slightly, but Jiang Jun reached out and pressed it back down.

The next day, urgent reports came from the borders of Yan and Shu at the same time.

Thirty thousand Yan cavalrymen camped a hundred li north of Youzhou, their banners obscuring the sun. Scouts rode back and forth along the border, the dust kicked up by their horses visible for miles. Twenty thousand Shu infantrymen advanced along the western front of Qingzhou. Their vanguard had already set up a camp less than forty li from the border. The camp was built extremely quickly, as if the timber and craftsmen had been prepared long ago, waiting only for an order to move the boundary marker three li towards Chu.

When the news reached the capital, classes were ending at the gate of the Imperial Academy.

After Xiao Lie finished tidying up his lesson plan and put the chalk back in the box, he was about to leave the classroom when Xu De walked quickly from the other end of the corridor, holding an unopened urgent report in his hand, his steps a little faster than usual.

Xiao Lie took the urgent report, opened it, and read it without saying a word. He folded the letter, put it back in the envelope, stood by the podium for a while, and then said, "They're panicking."

Xu De asked, "Who's getting impatient?"

"Jiang Jun." Xiao Lie put the envelope into his sleeve. "And Jiang Min."

He didn't say much, and his steps didn't quicken as he walked out of the classroom; his pace remained steady as ever. The lanterns on both sides of the corridor were already lit, casting a dim, yellowish light that stretched his shadow long, from the threshold all the way to the stone slab in the center of the training ground. He stood in the middle of the training ground for a while, then looked up at the sky. The evening clouds hung low, like a weight that hadn't yet fallen, suspended overhead, waiting to collapse in a direction it had already chosen.

The news spread faster than any imperial edict.

Inside the teahouse, people were arguing about whether or not the war would break out. A man in shorts slammed his teacup on the table and said, "What does the Northern Frontier King's family affairs have to do with us common folk? Whether the Jing Kingdom's princess returns or not, what business is it of ours? Mind your own business!"

A middle-aged man wearing a handkerchief at the next table put down his bowl and said, "You really think it's for some princess? It's because we're afraid the prince will cause some big commotion again."

"What's all this commotion?"

"Haven't you heard? The Prince is teaching those craftsmen at the Imperial Academy. Before, the Prince would just draw blueprints and have the craftsmen copy them—that was already a revolutionary change. This time, the Prince is teaching them personally; he's practically pulling out everything from his head. Don't you think those neighboring countries are afraid?"

The man in the short jacket opened his mouth, but couldn't say anything. He glanced down at the remaining tea in his bowl; a few tea leaves floated on the surface, not sinking, like a few unsettled judgments. He picked up the bowl and drank it all in one gulp, wiped his mouth, and said, "But we can't use the lives of ordinary people to make up for it, can we?"

The middle-aged man in the square scarf didn't reply. He simply put down his teacup, lifted his gaze from the rim of the cup, and looked out the teahouse window at the gray sky, as if waiting for a message yet to arrive to cleave the sky in two.

In a corner of the teahouse's backyard, several craftsmen huddled together grinding ink. Their hands were rougher than most, their knuckles calloused from years of wielding hammers and files, yet they held brushes and practiced writing the characters for "craft" and "study" on scrap paper.

A young craftsman, while writing, said, "They say there's going to be a war."

The older man didn't look up, his pen moving slowly across the paper until he finished the last stroke of the character "学" (xué, meaning "to learn"). Then he put down his pen and said, "What does whether there's a war or not have to do with whether you write or not?"

The young craftsman was stunned.

The older craftsman picked up the page, blew on the ink, and said, "What the prince taught you, once you've learned, no one can take away. Even after the war is over, you'll still be able to write this character. Even if the war doesn't break out, you'll still be able to write it. Just keep writing."

After he finished speaking, he folded the paper, put it in his pocket, got up, and walked out. The wind from the alley entrance blew in, making the scraps of paper on the table rustle for a while, then quieted down. The folded paper made a rough, uneven bulge in his pocket, like an undeveloped bone pushing out through his clothes.

The debates in the imperial court in the capital were more intense than those among the common people.

The people from the Northern Frontier faction stood on the left side of the hall, led by a military general in worn armor. He slammed the memorial in his hand to the ground, his voice booming like thunder: "Fight! So be it! No matter how strong the Jing Kingdom is, can it be more difficult to conquer than the Northern Barbarians?"

A civil official beside him tugged at his sleeve and said, "Be careful what you say."

The military officer shook off his hand: "Be cautious about what? Do you even know what the Prince teaches at the Imperial Academy?"

The hall fell silent for a moment.

The military officer looked around, his voice deepening. "Before, His Highness drew blueprints, and we followed them. Those were ideas he came up with all by himself. Now, His Highness is personally teaching the craftsmen to read and write; he's transforming those ideas from one person to a group. Has anyone ever seen His Highness expend so much effort teaching people?" He paused. "Everything His Highness puts his effort into is no small matter."

The powerful families on the right side of the palace remained silent for a moment, then an elderly minister in purple robes stepped forward, cupped his hands, and said, "Fighting a war is easy, but ending it is difficult. Great Chu has just finished fighting the Northern Barbarians; the national treasury is empty, and the people are exhausted. The states of Jing, Yan, and Shu have all arrived, their forces several times larger than ours. Even if we are lucky enough to win, it will be a Pyrrhic victory."

The military officer sneered, "Then let's bring Jiang Min back?"

The old minister in purple robes said, "She is the princess. What's wrong with a princess returning home to visit her family?"

Do you know what she did?

"I don't know," the old minister in purple robes said calmly, "but even if I did know, that's a matter for the prince's family."

The military officer stared at him for a while, as if trying to tear that calm expression from his face. He didn't argue anymore, but simply picked up the memorial from the ground, dusted it off, put it in his sleeve, and said, "You're afraid of war because your fields and shops are all in the south, so the war won't reach you. But do you know that if Jiang Min learns what the Prince taught you, he'll be more terrifying than the combined forces of the Three Kingdoms?"

The hall fell silent again. The silence was even deeper than before, like a pool of water that had been stirred and was slowly refreezing. It wasn't completely solidified yet, but the surface patterns were gradually closing, pressing the words that hadn't yet surfaced beneath the ice.

The old minister in purple robes did not answer. He simply lowered his eyes, like a weight that had not yet decided whether to shake it, hanging in the silence in the center of the hall, waiting for the weight on the other end to pull it down.

When the news reached the Imperial Academy, Xiao Lie was grading homework.

As he turned to the third booklet, Xu De reappeared at the door, holding a second urgent report. Xiao Lie took it, read it, and placed it on the table without speaking immediately.

Xu De said, "Your Highness, the argument in the court has been going on for three days."

Xiao Lie said, "I know."

"The aristocratic families are advocating for the return of the princess."

On the page Xiao Lie was grading, a craftsman had written a simple equation. The answer was correct, but the steps were written crookedly, like a line trying to straighten itself. Xiao Lie picked up his pen and drew a circle at the end to indicate that it was correct. Then he closed the booklet and placed it on top of the stack of papers he had finished grading.

Xu De said, "Your Highness, perhaps..."

Xiao Lie raised his head: "What do you mean?"

Xu De looked at him, but didn't say the rest of his sentence. He just stood at the doorway, the lantern beside him casting half of its light and shadow on his face, while the other half remained in the darkness outside the threshold. The line between light and shadow cut down along the bridge of his nose, like an undefined border.

Xiao Lie stood up, walked to the window, and opened it. A night breeze blew in, carrying the chill of early autumn, causing the pages of paper on the table to flutter slightly. He looked at the night view outside for a moment, then said, "If she wants to come, let her come."

Xu De was stunned: "Your Highness?"

Xiao Lie turned around: "But once we're here, where we go is up to me."

He walked back to his desk, spread out a new sheet of paper, picked up his brush, dipped it in ink, and wrote a few words. His brushstrokes were steady, and the ink flowed from the tip of the brush, forming a complete sentence on the paper, like a boundary line being recalibrated, extending along the direction he had chosen, stopping at the last few words, without adding or omitting a single stroke.

He picked up the paper, blew on the ink to dry it, folded it tightly, and handed it to Xu De: "Send this to the Kingdom of Jing. Tell Jiang Min that I have granted her permission to return to the palace. However, the deep palace is lonely, so I have specially sent someone to accompany the Queen on a tour of the entire country to offer her some comfort."

Xu De paused for a moment when he took the letter. He glanced down at the words on the envelope, asked no further questions, and turned to leave. His footsteps receded into the distance along the corridor, like a pebble rolling in a predetermined direction, continuing forward without encountering any obstacles.

Xiao Lie sat down again and finished grading the remaining assignments one by one. The night outside the window was dark and heavy, like a slowly thickening blanket, enveloping the entire Imperial Academy grounds along with the lantern that was still lit at the end of the corridor.

Jiang Min received the letter three days later.

She was copying a scroll of calligraphy by the window of the palace when a maid handed her a letter. She put down her pen, opened the seal, took out the letter, read it, and then sat by the window for a long time.

She recognized the handwriting on the letter. Xiao Lie's pen was always steady, each stroke landing precisely where it should, and even when writing this line, he showed no sign of panic—"The deep palace is lonely; I have specially dispatched someone to accompany the Princess on a tour of the country, to offer some solace."

After she finished reading it, she put the letter on the table, picked up the half-copied book on her desk, glanced at it, and then put it down.

The palace maids standing nearby didn't dare to utter a sound. The charcoal fire in the corner of the warm chamber crackled softly, like a thin shell slowly peeling away. Jiang Min stood up and walked to the window, pushing it open to look at the distant horizon. The wind blew in from the north, carrying the dry scent of autumn, and fell on her face through the windowpane.

She whispered, "He opened the door."

The palace maid didn't understand: "Princess?"

Jiang Min didn't explain. She folded the letter and tucked it into her bosom, the crease pressed flat, like a marker indicating a chosen direction. She was silent for a moment, then said, "Then go."

Her tone was indifferent, like a width yet to be measured, waiting to be placed into that doorway.

When the news reached the main tent of the Jing Kingdom, Jiang Jun was examining a map. After hearing the messenger's report, his finger paused on the table, and he said, "He's abandoned her to a powerful family."

The advisor beside him asked, "Your Highness, this..."

Jiang Jun turned around, his gaze falling on the corner of the curtain fluttering in the wind outside the tent. He paused for a moment, then said, "He sent her to contact the aristocratic families. Those families were already wavering. Xiao Lie threw her there not to help them join forces, but to stir up trouble." He paused again. "Wherever a family went to their territory, that family was put on the hot seat. If she didn't move, the families wouldn't dare to move. If she did move, the families would be even more afraid to move."

The strategist opened his mouth but didn't reply.

Jiang Jun looked at the map again, drew a line in the heart of Chu with his finger, and said, "He threw the biggest variable onto the chessboard, and then let everyone watch that variable move on its own." He lowered his hand. "A good move."

He didn't say anything more, but simply took the notice that had been folded into the drawer out again, glanced at it, and then put it back. The crease had left a deep white mark on the paper, like a border line that had been repeatedly drawn, waiting for the day it would be officially demarcated.

Meanwhile, Jiang Min's carriage had already set off. The convoy traveled south along the official road, crossing the border of Yan and entering the territory of Chu. She sat inside the carriage, holding the letter in her hand, her fingertips slowly tracing the edge of the paper, as if re-measuring the distance between the characters.

She knew what Xiao Lie was doing. He brought her back, but then sent people to "accompany" her on a tour of the country. Beneath that word "accompany" lay a whole network of eyes and ears hidden in the shadows. Wherever she went, the powerful families there would be dragged into the mire.

There was only one thing she wanted to do—to get close to that classroom at the Imperial Academy, to get close to the knowledge being taught, and to get close to the man who was slowly extracting the knowledge from her mind.

She put down the letter in her hand and looked out the car window at the receding fields. Most of the autumn crops had been harvested, leaving only neat stubble in the fields, like the edge of a book being turned.

She whispered, "If you don't want me to see it, I'll watch it slowly."

The sound of horses' hooves echoed southward along the official road, like an outline being drawn, not yet fully formed, but already extending in the direction it was meant to go.

At the Imperial Academy, Xiao Lie stood on the classroom platform, facing the craftsmen below, picked up the chalk, turned around, and wrote a new character on the blackboard.

The midday sun outside the window was dazzlingly white.

When he finished writing the last stroke, the chalk paused lightly on the board. Then he put down the chalk, turned around, and said, "Today we'll talk about the decomposition of forces."

The craftsmen below the stage lowered their heads and opened their booklets. Some gripped their pens tightly and then loosened them. Some wrote a crooked "力" (power) character in the header, like a newly planted mark, waiting to grow into its proper shape in the soil it had chosen.

The wind outside the classroom blew through the corridor, causing the paper windows to flutter slightly. The sounds weren't loud, but they were clearly audible in the otherwise quiet classroom.

Xiao Lie did not turn around.

He began his lecture.