Chapter 17: The Vermilion Bird That Can Swear
In the early hours of Chang'an, a thin mist slowly rose, resembling the ethereal aura of immortals drifting through the air.
“Husband, get up quickly.”
“Eldest son, go see if your younger brother wet the bed.”
“Whose dog is barking? It’s keeping people awake. Damn it, if it barks again, I’ll turn it into dog stew tomorrow!”
…
“How lively,” Zhao Sanfu stood atop the city wall, gazing into the city with longing. “In ten years, in a hundred years, this place should be even more vibrant.”
Yang Xuan, who had just been released, sat nearby, watching the curling smoke rise from the kitchens, mingling with the mist and drifting across the rooftops. Adults scolded, children wailed...
He hadn’t slept all night, but felt fine. “In a hundred years, neither of us will be here.”
Zhao Sanfu shook his head. “But our descendants will. In a hundred years, I’ll squat atop my own grave, watching Chang’an grow ever more prosperous, thinking that I contributed to this splendor—even as a ghost, I’ll be content.”
Yang Xuan had experienced much that night, and his mind was still a bit muddled.
“Study well,” Zhao Sanfu turned to look at him. “When we rise to prominence one day, let’s sweep away the injustices of this world!”
Yang Xuan nodded. “Alright!”
The morning breeze stirred. Zhao Sanfu felt exhilarated and was just about to make a rousing speech when the city gate below opened.
“Hey! Hurry down.”
The soldier who had let them up was an acquaintance of Zhao Sanfu's, but now that the gate was open and people were coming and going, it was inconvenient.
Zhao Sanfu cupped his hands, leapt lightly from the wall, and turned back to Yang Xuan. “Be careful these days.”
He didn’t say who to watch out for, but Yang Xuan knew—it was the He family.
…
The He family. He Huan, just out of bed, received the news and his face turned grim.
“Han Chun dares oppose the He family?”
He issued a cold order, “Have our people impeach Han Chun… Wait!”
He Huan stood in the courtyard as a maid helped him dress. After a moment’s thought, he mused, “Han Chun’s wife’s family is powerful, and he’ll depend on family connections in the future. Why, then, would he go out of his way to save Yang Xuan?”
Before he could send someone to investigate, more news arrived.
“Han Chun says this matter is too complicated to explain.”
He Huan turned, and with a snap, the bowl of soup in his hands shattered, broth splattering everywhere.
“That country bumpkin’s life is harder to take than I thought!”
…
When Yang Xuan returned home, he wasn’t surprised to find his bedroom turned upside down.
A scroll had been thrown on the floor, and it looked as though someone had examined it only to dismiss it as worthless. Heart aching, Yang Xuan picked it up. The room was a mess, but he set the scroll outside and began tidying up.
Morning sunlight drifted gently across the floor. The scroll sat on the step outside, and as the sunlight reached it, there was a clear, metallic chime.
“Charging initiated…”
Inside, Yang Xuan slowly turned, dumbfounded to see a red light blinking on the scroll.
Charging?
He remembered the warning that always sounded before the scroll shut down.
—“Low battery, shutting down. Low battery, shutting down…” until there was nothing left.
Yang Xuan hastily finished cleaning, then stood curiously by the step to see what other surprises the scroll might bring.
Sunlight warmed his back, but the scroll's red light went out in shadow, and a girlish voice announced, “Insufficient light, insufficient light…”
Insufficient light?
Yang Xuan stepped aside, letting the sun fall on the scroll.
The red light began to blink again. The girl's voice resumed, “Charging initiated…”
“Does it really need sunlight?” Yang Xuan blocked the light again.
“Insufficient light, insufficient light…”
He stepped aside.
“Charging initiated…”
He blocked the sun again.
He played this little game over and over until the girl's voice, suddenly tinged with exasperation, snapped, “Damn you!”
Yang Xuan: “…”
He crouched down carefully. “Are… are you a person?”
The girl’s voice replied, “I am not a person.”
Oh!
Yang Xuan was delighted. “Who are you?”
“I am an intelligent program…” she began, reeling off a string of numbers Yang Xuan didn’t understand, before concluding, “My name is Vermilion Bird.”
“Vermilion Bird…” Yang Xuan scratched his head. “Isn’t that a mythical creature?”
The voice replied mechanically, “The Vermilion Bird is one of the Four Divine Beasts of Heaven…”
Yang Xuan plopped down on the floor. “What else do you know?”
Silence.
Yang Xuan hesitantly asked, “What is Chang’an?”
Vermilion Bird’s voice remained flat. “Chang’an was the capital of the Tang Dynasty in China. Over four thousand years ago, King Wen of Zhou first established his capital here…”
King Wen of Zhou?
Yang Xuan listened, bewildered, and tried to recall with his meager grasp of history, but couldn’t remember anything about King Wen.
He spent the whole morning squatting there, peppering her with questions, until there was a chime and a green light lit up. Vermilion Bird announced, “Battery fully charged.”
Yang Xuan asked, “What is a battery?”
“A battery is—”
“What do you do when the battery is full?”
“Charging can stop. Ready for normal use or shutdown.”
Famished, Yang Xuan finally asked, “Where do you come from?”
“I was created by the Tang Corporation, serial number—”
Yang Xuan scratched his head and, testing the shutdown, called out, “Vermilion Bird?”
“I’m here.”
“Vermilion Bird.”
“I’m here.”
The next morning, when Yang Xuan woke up, he called instinctively, “Vermilion Bird.”
The small scroll by his pillow responded, “I’m here.”
Relieved, Yang Xuan tucked the palm-sized scroll into a leather pouch he’d made especially for it. “Vermilion Bird, aren’t you bored in there?”
There was no answer.
The holiday came, and Yang Xuan went to the Imperial Academy.
He registered, then received his robes, books, and a whisk.
He waved the whisk a few times, finding it awkward, and asked, “What’s this for?”
The man in the storeroom frowned at him. “Metaphysics is the highest of all learning. One must carry oneself with grace…” He picked up a whisk and waved it. “See? Isn’t it dashing?”
It looks ridiculous!
Yang Xuan grumbled inwardly but dared not say so. “Yes.”
He changed clothes. Though his old garments were ragged, he carefully wrapped them up and slung them over his back. He thought he would be looked down upon, but the storeroom manager nodded approvingly, “You remember your roots—good. However…”
Very good indeed!
Ignoring the “however,” Yang Xuan cheerfully followed to the classroom.
Zhong Hui knelt at the head of the class, glanced at Yang Xuan, and nodded. “Come in.”
Over thirty students turned to the door.
Yang Xuan entered and bowed. “Greetings, Professor.”
Zhong Hui gestured elegantly to the students. “Introduce yourself to your classmates.”
Faced with thirty pairs of eyes, Yang Xuan grew nervous. “I… I am Yang Xuan, courtesy name Zi Tai.”
The name Zi Tai had been suggested to him by Yang Lue, though who originally chose it, only the heavens knew.
His classmates regarded him with critical eyes. Among them were several girls.
The Tang Dynasty was open-minded—women were not confined to their chambers. When the dynasty was founded, there had even been an entire army of female soldiers, fierce beyond compare.
Hua Yuxie folded her arms and remarked coolly, “He looks timid. I bet he’s a commoner’s son.”
Her friend Qiao Huiyan pointed to her chest. “You’re about to burst out of your dress.”
Hua Yuxie dropped her arms and glanced around. No one was peeking. Qiao Huiyan, seeing Yang Xuan assigned to sit just behind Hua Yuxie, whispered, “You’re the flower of the Academy. Will this new boy fall for you?”
A flicker of disdain crossed Hua Yuxie’s delicate features. “None of the Academy’s men interest me, least of all him.”
Yang Xuan sat down and class began.
There were many courses in metaphysics, mostly on ancient texts. After one class, Yang Xuan found it all rather vague and insubstantial. He recalled seeing Zhong Hui debate someone, and remembered a prior exchange between teacher and student—it all seemed hollow.
The student behind Hua Yuxie took advantage of a moment when Zhong Hui was looking down. He reached over, a handsome smile on his face. “Bao Dong.”
Yang Xuan blinked, then shook his hand as if he’d known how all along. “Yang Xuan.”
Bao Dong pointed at the whisk on Yang Xuan’s desk, raising an eyebrow. “Like it?”
Yang Xuan nodded, then shook his head. Bao Dong grinned. “It’s a silly thing, really.”
“Hush!”
Someone in front reminded them.
Yang Xuan began to think he’d come to the wrong place, but the next class was a proper subject—arithmetic, among others.
The third class was tense and martial: cultivation.
The morning’s lessons were intense. Just before lunch, Yang Xuan got up.
Qiao Huiyan glanced back and whispered, “He’s here, just as expected.”
Hua Yuxie frowned. “As annoying as a fly.”
The two girls were waiting for the new student to try to curry favor, so they could embarrass him, but Yang Xuan, behind them, asked, “Bao Dong, do you know what the Mirror Bureau does?”
Qiao Huiyan was surprised. Hua Yuxie stood up. “Let’s go to the dining hall.”
Bao Dong propped his chin on his hand, looked sideways at Yang Xuan, and sighed. “You must be new to Chang’an, right? No need to ask. You must be. The Mirror Bureau… well…”
He lowered his voice. “I feel a kinship with you, so I’ll tell you. The Mirror Bureau is the emperor’s watchdog.”
“Watchdog?” Yang Xuan couldn’t imagine Zhao Sanfu as a dog.
Bao Dong nodded. “Exactly. They take care of the emperor’s private affairs, keep an eye on ministers… In short, the Mirror Bureau is the emperor’s eye, watching over Chang’an and the whole realm.”
He felt Yang Xuan should understand now.
Yang Xuan did understand. He recalled his first day in Chang’an—being extorted by a bully, Zhao Sanfu intervening…
Had it all been deliberate?
Bao Dong noticed a note of melancholy in his new classmate’s eyes. “What, did you offend someone from the Mirror Bureau? My advice—keep your distance.”
Yang Xuan shook his head. “No. Let’s eat.”
The two went to the dining hall together.
It was a large hall, and many glanced at Yang Xuan as he entered.
Feels like I’ve walked into a forest of wolves!
Yang Xuan keenly sensed he wasn’t welcome.
“Most students here have some kind of background,” Bao Dong warned as they collected their food. “Word is, a clueless country boy somehow pulled strings to sneak into the Academy. If I hadn’t seen how seriously you study, I wouldn’t bother with you. But… don’t expect others to be as kind.”
Yang Xuan’s scalp tingled. He tensed, relaxed, drew a breath…
Before Bao Dong finished, a nearby shout rang out, “Watch out!”
A student flung his tray, sending food flying everywhere—straight at Yang Xuan.
Thinking that the new boy would be humiliated on his first day and become the laughingstock of the Academy for a long time, Bao Dong couldn’t help but pity him.
The student’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. Around them, students whispered excitedly.
But Yang Xuan seemed to have anticipated it. He stepped aside, reaching out as if by accident to steady the student, then pulled him forward, positioning him as a shield.
The whole sequence was smooth and natural, as if they’d rehearsed it.
Splat!
The student was covered head to toe in food.
The dining hall fell silent.
Yang Xuan, food in hand, walked slowly forward.
All eyes followed him as he moved…
Until a girl called out, “Bravo!”
…
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