Chapter 95 Capping Ceremony

Chapter 95: Coming of Age Ceremony

Just like that, he was let off so lightly?

No questions, no scolding. Qi Yan froze for a moment, but Xiao Shao had already pulled Yuan Yu outside.

Qi Yan rose to follow, but Xiao Shao’s voice came from beyond the door: "What are you following for? You’re no fun. Stay seated—I’ll be back soon."

Tired of the dull study routine, Xiao Shao had found his own amusement—he planned to catch ducks at Taiye Pond for a feast—wrapping them in lotus leaves with sticky rice to roast.

The palace ducks had been raised since the founding of the dynasty, pampered by generations of emperors with fine food and care. Each was registered by name, revered like ancestral treasures, fat and sleek. Among those present, only Xiao Shao, relying on his status, dared to actually catch one.

Xie Guanghong said from the back, "Go on without me. I’m tired and need a rest."

Xiao Shao waved in agreement.

Once they left, the study fell into complete silence. Qi Yan paused briefly before returning to his desk, smoothing fresh paper, grinding ink, and picking up his brush.

The policy essay had been written hastily, and many parts needed refinement and additions.

Qi Yan wasn’t sure if Xiao Shao left to give him space or simply because he felt like playing. Not daring to waste a moment, he continued writing—only to hear a soft knock on the desk. The visitor, a boy of fourteen or fifteen, still childish, was a servant from Senior Tutor Song’s household. He cupped his hands toward Qi Yan: "Qi... Qi..."

The boy hesitated, unsure how to address Qi Yan. Normally, he would have called him "sir," but since Qi Yan had been punished, he was no longer seen as unblemished—neither "sir" nor "master" felt appropriate. In the end, he simply said, "Senior Tutor Song asks for you."

Qi Yan showed no reaction, nodding slightly. "Lead the way."

They passed through several corridors, arriving at a secluded courtyard hidden behind the study. A gate half-hidden by rocks and vines stood unobtrusively. The boy slid open the latch: "It’s a bit out of the way, but since you’re now part of the inner court, as an outer court official, he cannot openly meet with you—hence the secrecy. He asks for your understanding."

Qi Yan shook his head. "I wouldn’t dare take offense."

He stepped into the courtyard, where Senior Tutor Song stood by the window, backlit by the light.

The old man’s hair and beard were white as snow, his frame gaunt and frail. His once-straight posture had hunched over, as if weighed down by something. In just a few months, he’d aged years in months—noticing Qi Yan from the corner of his eye, he sighed deeply and gestured to a chair beside him. "Sit."

But Qi Yan swept his robe aside and dropped to his knees.

His knees struck the ground with a sharp thud. Startled, the old man turned and reached out to help him up. "Good child, what are you doing?"

But he couldn’t lift him. Qi Yan bowed deeply, pressing his forehead firmly against the stone tiles. "Your disciple has failed you."

Senior Tutor Song was a great scholar of their time, bearing the title of Senior Tutor and mentoring countless students across the land. Strictly speaking, every noble scion in the imperial study—even Xiao Shao, who was destined to be enfeoffed as a prince—was his student. But after a lifetime of teaching, the only disciple he had truly poured his hopes into was Qi Yan.

Though neither had spoken it aloud, with Qi Yan now subjected to castration, this student was ruined.

Trembling, Senior Tutor Song sat back down and accepted Qi Yan’s bow, sighing heavily. "It’s not your fault."

"Your father... was a fool. Three million taels disappeared under him—three million taels! Enough to fill a treasury, enough to fund the border armies for a year. Such a grave crime—the Emperor himself presided over the trial, and the Three Judicial Offices jointly investigated. Who could’ve saved him—or you?"

He gazed at Qi Yan, at his pallid, emaciated face, and sighed again. "Enough. I didn’t call you here for this."

Senior Tutor Song stood. "Your father once called me his teacher—he was my student too. Compared to you, he was far duller, yet he clumsily rose to censor. I still remember at his coming of age, I crowned him."

"..."

Senior Tutor Song continued, "Back then, your father said that when you came of age, I should also crown you. At the time, I gladly agreed. But your birthday falls in the height of summer, and by then... I might not live to see it. So I thought—why not bestow your name now?"

By then, Qi Yan would belong to Xiao Shao’s household, and Senior Tutor Song wouldn’t be able to see him whenever he wished.

Qi Yan pressed his forehead harder against the stone, his shoulders shaking violently.

Senior Tutor Song: "My boy, lift your head."

Qi Yan, attending on Xiao Shao as his study companion, was dressed in freshly tailored servant’s robes that hung loosely on his frame. His hair was tied into a simple bun. Senior Tutor Song reached out and removed his hairpin. With his head bowed, his raven-black hair cascaded down like dark feathers.

Senior Tutor Song: "Traditionally, the crown is changed three times, each time signifying higher rank before one becomes an adult. But given our haste, I shall use this jade hairpin in its stead. The ancients likened jade to virtue. Though you..."

His hand trembled, and he could not continue. Instead, he gathered Qi Yan’s hair and replaced the wooden pin with the jade one, loosely securing it.

Senior Tutor Song’s aged eyes were dim, and the bun he fashioned was lopsided. He led Qi Yan to the window, squinting as he adjusted it for a long while before stepping back to examine his work, finally satisfied.

Then, he returned to the desk, picked up his brush, and handed a sheet of paper to Qi Yan: "My boy, this is your courtesy name. Ever since your father spoke to me about your coming of age, I searched long before settling on this. Tell me what you think."

Qi Yan’s hands shook uncontrollably. His vision blurred, and he blinked hard twice before steadying himself enough to take the paper.

On it were written two characters: "Ping Zhang," bold, elegant strokes forming a refined style.

Senior Tutor Song: "When the sovereign holds court for counsel, governing with effortless impartiality, then the seas grow calm and the rivers clear, and the world is illuminated. As a subject, one ought to heed this lesson—to assist the ruler and correct his errors."

He paused briefly. "Last night, I lay awake, wondering if I should choose another name for you."

A subject ought to heed this lesson, to assist the ruler. But Qi Yan was a eunuch, not a subject.

A eunuch had no need to assist the sovereign.

Senior Tutor Song: "After much deliberation, I found none better, though I had a few alternatives..."

He lifted the hem of his robe and reached for the brush again, but Qi Yan suddenly straightened, crawling forward on his knees to clutch his teacher’s hand.

Shaking like a leaf, barely able to maintain his kneeling posture, a drop of salty tears rolled down his chin and onto the floor. Qi Yan shook his head, his voice choked with sobs: "Teacher, don’t change it. Teacher, I don’t want it changed..."

The words were wrenched from his tongue like heart’s blood. He kept shaking his head, his plea growing desperate: "Teacher, don’t change it!"

Senior Tutor Song hesitated, then patted his student’s back: "My boy, we won’t change it."

Neither spoke. The room was filled only with Qi Yan’s muffled sobbing.

Yet both knew—what difference did it make, whether it was changed or not?

Twenty years of toil had come to nothing. His merits and future crumbled to dust. No one would know Qi Yan had a courtesy name. No one would call him by it. History would not note it, nor would his peers mention it.

Whether he had a name or not made no difference at all.

It was only a solace Senior Tutor Song gave him.

It took a long while before Qi Yan calmed. A young servant knocked lightly: "Senior Tutor, the time has come."

Staying too long in the side chamber might draw suspicion.

Senior Tutor Song gently pushed Qi Yan away: "My boy, go back now."

Qi Yan rose and bowed in farewell. As he closed the door behind him, he glanced back—Senior Tutor Song stood alone, his figure gaunt and forlorn. The once-venerated imperial tutor was now a broken old man.

The servant guided him back through the corridors. Qi Yan carefully folded the paper bearing "Ping Zhang" and tucked it into his sleeve. Then, reaching up to his hair, he gritted his teeth and undid the bun.

He examined the jade hairpin in his palm. The jade was smooth and lustrous, its color creamy white—a fine piece. Though Senior Tutor Song held high rank, he was a man of simple means. Such a valuable piece was likely the finest treasure the old man possessed.

Qi Yan tucked the hairpin into his sleeve as well, ensuring it was secure. Then, fumbling, he retied his hair and replaced the wooden pin.

For someone of his standing, such a fine jade hairpin was neither fitting nor permissible.

Having tidied everything up, Qi Yan walked back to the study. His expression was calm, his steps unhurried, all emotions hidden beneath a composed facade. Were it not for the faint water stains on his sleeves, no one could have guessed he had been crying.

But the moment he stepped into the study, Qi Yan froze.

Xie Guanghong was blocking the doorway, scrutinizing him from head to toe.

The Xie family had been nobles for generations, with the old master having served as the late emperor’s close attendant. The family held the hereditary title of Baron of Yongyi. Xie Guanghong lifted his chin and sneered, "Tanhua Qi, I never got to see you before. I never expected you to align yourself with the Second Prince. No matter—now we can settle the matter of your father impeaching me for galloping through the streets back then."

Qi Yan’s father had been an upright censor—a position that, in flattering terms, was called 'overseeing the officials,' but in blunt terms, meant reporting on others. Qi Yan's father was notorious for his impeachment memorials, having targeted nearly every notable noble in the capital, Xie Guanghong included.

Back then, Xie had raced his horse through the streets, overturning two market stalls, and Qi Yan’s father had submitted a memorial to the emperor. As a result, Xie was confined to his estate by his father and had a prized horse confiscated.

Qi Yan took a step back, gripping his sleeve as he bowed his head. "Young Master Xie, this hardly seems proper."

Though his words were deferential, his body was tense, already bracing for the worst.

Had he still held his scholarly honors, Qi Yan wouldn’t have feared Xie Guanghong. But now, with everything changed, Xie could punish a mere servant with ease.

Xie Guanghong smirked. "What? You’re waiting for the Second Prince to save you?"

He chuckled. "Given how close I am to His Highness, do you really think he’d stop me if I decided to punish you?"

*

Half a garden away, Xiao Shao was skipping stones at ducks by the lake.

He picked a few flat rocks from the shore and skimmed them across the water, startling a flock of ducks but failing to hit a single one.

Yuan Yu, unwilling to harm the palace ducks, merely handed stones to Xiao Shao from the side.

Xiao Shao had long outgrown the childish amusement of duck-hunting and was utterly bored, his aim sloppy. Yuan Yu dusted off his hands. "You’re off your game today."

Xiao Shao sighed. "Yeah, throwing rocks at the same ducks for years gets old."

Yuan Yu shivered. "It’s too cold by the lake. Should we head back early?"

Xiao Shao waved a hand. "No, let’s stay a little longer."

Who knew if Qi Yan had finished his work?

He took a larger stone from Yuan Yu, raised his arm, and was about to throw it when someone suddenly came sprinting toward them, breathless, stumbling the last few steps before dropping to his knees.

Yuan Yu frowned. "Yuan Ji, what’s the rush? What’s going on?"

This was Yuan Yu’s personal attendant, a servant born into the Yuan household.

Yuan Ji gasped, "Your Highness, my lord—Lord Xie has blocked the doorway, accusing the servant you brought of stealing something. Something seemed off, so I came to report it to you both."

Before the words were out, Xiao Shao had already tossed the stone aside and turned sharply. "Qi Yan?"

After Qi Yan became the Nine Thousand-Year Lord, he might have been ruthless and decisive, but in his early days, he was nothing short of an upright gentleman. The idea of him stealing was something Xiao Shao would never believe.

He hurried down from the rockery, hastily lifting the hem of his robe. "Come on, take me there."