Xue Rengui had been standing in the military classroom for all of five minutes when Pei Xingjian launched into what could only be described as a full-scale information extraction operation.
"So your name is Xue Li?" Pei Xingjian asked, not waiting for an answer before continuing. "That's a good, solid name. My name is Pei Xingjian. Pei as in the Pei family from Jiangzhou. You've probably heard of us? No? Well, my father was Pei Renji, and my older brother was Pei Xingyan. Both were generals. Brave men. Died too young, but that's the way of things, isn't it?"
Xue Rengui blinked. "I... uh..."
"I live in the western district of Chang'an," Pei Xingjian continued, completely ignoring Xue Rengui's attempt to speak. "Near the West Market. It's convenient for shopping, though the noise can be terrible sometimes. What about you? Where are you from?"
"Hedong," Xue Rengui managed to say.
"Hedong! That's quite a journey. I've never been there myself, but I've read about it. Beautiful countryside, I hear. Lots of good farmland. Do you have family there? Brothers? Sisters?"
"Just my mother," Xue Rengui said. "My father passed away when I was young."
Pei Xingjian's expression softened. "Ah. I see. My father died before I was born. My brother too. It's just my mother and me as well."
Xue Rengui looked at the shorter boy with new eyes. "So we're the same."
"In some ways," Pei Xingjian agreed. "Though I suspect your mother doesn't have to worry about you getting ink stains on your robes."
"I don't have robes," Xue Rengui said flatly. "I have work clothes. For farming."
"Farming!" Pei Xingjian's eyes widened. "You're a farmer?"
"Was," Xue Rengui corrected. "Before the summons. I spent most of my days behind a plow."
Pei Xingjian stared at him like he'd just announced he could fly. "And now you're here. In the Guozijian. Studying military strategy. That's... that's incredible. Do you know how many people would kill for this opportunity?"
Xue Rengui shrugged. "I just followed orders."
"That's not just following orders," Pei Xingjian said, his voice suddenly serious. "That's fate. The Emperor doesn't summon random farmers to the capital. There must be something special about you. Something he saw."
Xue Rengui didn't know what to say to that, so he said nothing.
"Anyway," Pei Xingjian continued, brightening again, "I'm studying at the Xiuwen Academy. Literature, history, poetry. The usual things. But I'm much more interested in military strategy. That's why I'm here too. What about you? What are your interests?"
Xue Rengui thought about it. His interests had never really been a question before. His life was work and survival. But now, standing in this room with maps and sand tables, surrounded by people who talked about wars and strategies like they were discussing the weather, he found himself wondering for the first time what he actually wanted.
"I don't know," he admitted. "I've never had the luxury of interests."
Pei Xingjian nodded as if this made perfect sense. "Well, you do now. That's the wonderful thing about Chang'an. You can be whoever you want to be."
He paused, then added, "But if I had to guess, I'd say you're interested in fighting. Am I right?"
Xue Rengui blinked. "Why do you say that?"
"Because you're built like a soldier," Pei Xingjian said matter-of-factly. "And because you came all this way without complaining. And because when the Emperor handed you that bow, you didn't hesitate."
Xue Rengui didn't say anything, but something in his chest stirred.
"I want to be a general," Pei Xingjian declared. "Like my father and brother. I want to serve the Emperor and protect the empire. I want to lead armies and win great victories. I want my name to be remembered in history books for a thousand years!"
He paused, then added with a grin, "But I also want to be a good calligrapher. And maybe write some poetry. A man should have many talents, don't you think?"
Xue Rengui just nodded. He was still trying to process the fact that this kid had just told him his entire life story in less time than it took to boil rice.
"So," Pei Xingjian said, leaning closer. "What do you want to be?"
"I don't know yet," he said honestly. "But I think... I want to be someone my mother would be proud of."
Pei Xingjian nodded solemnly. "That's a good goal. A very good goal. I'm sure she already is."
Xue Rengui doubted that. His mother had watched him struggle for years, scraping together a living from the dirt. She deserved better than a son who could barely feed himself.
But maybe, just maybe, that was about to change.
"Anyway," Pei Xingjian said, not even pausing for breath, "this sand table is quite fascinating, isn't it? Though I must say, the craftsmanship is a bit lacking. The mountains aren't nearly detailed enough. At the Xiuwen Academy, we have much more intricate models for our geography lessons. My calligraphy teacher always says that attention to detail is what separates the masters from the amateurs."
Xue Rengui nodded politely, already tuning him out.
Pei Xingjian didn't notice.
He kept going, gesturing excitedly at the sand table with one hand while the other made invisible brush strokes in the air. "Speaking of calligraphy, I've been practicing the Kaishu script for three hours every morning. My teacher says my strokes are improving, but my structure still needs work. Do you know the difference between Kaishu and Xingshu? Kaishu is regular script, very formal and structured. Xingshu is running script, much more fluid and expressive. I prefer Kaishu myself. There's something satisfying about the precision of it."
Xue Rengui grunted noncommittally, his eyes fixed on the sand table.
"My father always said that a man's character is revealed in his calligraphy," Pei Xingjian continued, completely oblivious to his audience's lack of interest. "A steady hand produces steady characters. A chaotic mind produces chaotic strokes. I think that's why I enjoy it so much. It's not just about writing beautifully. It's about cultivating discipline. About training the mind to focus on one thing at a time."
He paused for a fraction of a second, then launched into another topic. "Of course, calligraphy isn't the only important subject at the Xiuwen Academy. We also study the Five Classics and the Four Books. I'm particularly fond of the Analects of Confucius. Did you know that Confucius said 'The superior man understands what is right. The small man understands what will sell'? That's from Book Four, Chapter Sixteen. I've memorized the entire thing, actually. All twenty books. My classmates say I have a photographic memory, but I think that's just exaggeration. I just pay attention, that's all."
Xue Rengui completely ignored the chattering boy beside him and focused all his attention on the sand table.
The Emperor had been crystal clear. Something big was coming. Whether or not this campaign involved the Tuyuhun, Xue Rengui wanted to be ready. He tried his hardest to tune out Pei Xingjian's constant talking and absorb every detail of the mountains and rivers laid out before him.
But let's be real. Xue Rengui was a standard bearer of a fallen family. His education was basically "go work in the fields" and "try not to starve." His strategic thinking had limits. At best, he could imagine two tiny armies of stick figures charging at each other. Anything beyond that was way above his level.
And then.
"See anything interesting?"
A kindly voice spoke right next to his ear.
Xue Rengui was so absorbed in the sand table that he answered without thinking.
"This mountain looks a bit like a steamed bun."
The words were barely out of his mouth before his brain caught up. He looked up, his face going pale, and found two more people in the room. An old man with a face that said "I've seen things" and another guy who looked to be around thirty, probably the old man's assistant or something.
Both of them were standing right beside him.
The old man was the one who had spoken. His clothes were fancy, clearly expensive. Silk robes. Embroidered patterns. The kind of outfit that cost more than Xue Rengui's entire village. His face had that warm, approachable look that rich old men get after a lifetime of not having to worry about money.
Xue Rengui's answer made the old gentleman burst out laughing. He turned to his companion.
"Dingfang, it seems our Hedong divine general has the appetite of a Guanzhong man as well."
Su Dingfang smiled. It was the kind of smile that said "I'm amused but also slightly concerned for this kid's future." He studied the now-panicking Xue Rengui carefully.
Then he introduced the two newcomers.
"This is Duke Wei, Li Jing. He serves as the military doctrine instructor."
No need to mention achievements. That name alone was enough to make generals across the empire nervous.
Xue Rengui didn't dare delay. He instantly dropped into a deep, formal bow of profound respect. Next to him, Pei Xingjian abandoned his casual demeanor and quickly followed suit, his usual hyperactive chatter instantly vanishing in the presence of a living myth.
Li Jing didn't bother with pleasantries. He picked up a long bamboo pointer and tapped the large lake on the map.
"This is Qinghai Lake. Next year, when the main army moves west, we need to control this entire area. Cut off their escape routes. Secure a forward base for the Western Regions."
He moved the pointer.
"The Tuyuhun are all over the west, north, and south banks. The Dangxiang tribes are on the east flank. And further west, up on the plateau, the Tibetans are watching, waiting for a chance to come down and hit us from behind."
Then he turned toward Pei Xingjian.
"Xingjian, if the Emperor put you in command today, how would you take this lake?"
All three men looked at the boy.
He was eleven.
Xue Rengui looked at him too. By this point, his sense of unreality had only grown stronger. Names like Tuyuhun and Dangxiang were things he'd occasionally heard old men in the village mention after too much wine. As for Tibet or Qinghai Lake, he hadn't even known they existed five minutes ago.
But after listening to Duke Li and remembering the Emperor's hints from yesterday, one thing was clear.
Next year, he was going to Qinghai.
And apparently, he was going there to fight people.
Xue Rengui's head was spinning. Sixteen years of worrying about food and firewood, and now suddenly he was standing in a military classroom in Chang'an, listening to Li Jing talk about grand strategy and casually learning he'd be in a campaign next year.
Things were moving too fast.
Meanwhile, the eleven-year-old beside him looked perfectly calm. He was about to say something that would probably make everyone else feel stupid.
Pei Xingjian studied the sand table for a long moment before speaking.
"I've read the Duke's reports on the Eastern Turks campaign," he said, addressing Li Jing with proper respect. "You led a light cavalry strike straight through the Yin Mountains, caught Illig Qaghan off guard, and your main forces hit them from three sides."
He paused and looked at the map.
"But the Tuyuhun are different. We're coming from the east, so we can only hit them from one direction. If we try to copy the Turks strategy, we'd have to march through Hexi, loop all the way around the Western Regions, and come down through the desert to hit their rear. The logistics alone would be a nightmare."
He shook his head.
"So if we want to control the lake, we need to divide and conquer. Bribe the Dangxiang with silk and trade rights. Secure our eastern flank. Then hit the Tuyuhun fast and hard. Every soldier gets three horses. Chase them down, take their pastures, break their tribes. Once the Tuyuhun are gone, the Dangxiang won't be a problem anymore."
Li Jing stared at the eleven-year-old boy. The more he listened, the brighter his expression became.
This kid wasn't just smart. He was frighteningly smart.
This is a true Pei family scion, Li Jing mused. His father and brothers were both fierce generals. Though they died young, the military atmosphere at home must have rubbed off on him. And his time at the Xiuwen Academy gave him a broad network of contacts and a decent grasp of current events.
Li Jing cast a sideways glance at Su Dingfang. No wonder history would have Su Dingfang passing on his military knowledge to this boy. What a fine student.
Your disciple is truly excellent, Li Jing's eyes seemed to say. But I'm afraid the Duke of Wei's art of war suits him better. Just say goodbye, old friend, to your beloved disciple.
Su Dingfang's jaw tightened. The more impressive Pei Xingjian proved to be, the deeper the hurt.
What a fine student. And now he's slipping through my fingers.
He returned Li Jing's glance.
Seniority? Yes, the Duke of Wei has seniority. Fine. A great general. But I've been on battlefields too.
And as for achievements? The Tang borders are surrounded by enemies. It's not as if there's a shortage of wars to fight.
A quiet fire kindled in Su Dingfang's chest. Let Li Jing have his fame and legacy. To hell with leaving a name in history. That was secondary.
He was angry now.
I, Su Dingfang, will definitely snatch my disciple back!
Wait for me, my disciple.
While the two veteran generals were locked in a silent, high-stakes battle of wills over an eleven-year-old boy, Xue Rengui was having what could only be described as a full-blown identity crisis.
He stared blankly at the sand table, his eyes darting between the mountain ridges and his pint-sized classmate.
Where on earth is he reading these strategies? Are there secret words hidden in the dirt that I'm not seeing? Is there a special military vision that kicks in at age eleven? What's the password?
Fortunately, the topic shifted before Xue Rengui could sink any further. Li Jing clapped his hands.
"The military program at the Guozijian is currently an experimental course," Li Jing explained. "I serve as the military doctrine instructor, with Su Dingfang as my assistant. There are only two students so far. Xue Rengui and Pei Xingjian."
He paused. "However, the Emperor has already dispatched imperial decrees to every province. The central government is officially launching a nationwide martial examination system. Anyone who fights their way to the top of those provincial trials will eventually be sent here to master the higher arts of grand strategy."
Li Jing turned to Pei Xingjian. "You still have to continue your courses at the Xiuwen Academy. Literature, calligraphy, poetry - all that scholarly stuff. But you will come here every few days for additional instruction."
Then he turned to Xue Rengui. "Xue Rengui, on the other hand, will receive very special attention."
After Li Jing confirmed that Xue Rengui could actually read, he handed him a bag of books.
"These are personal gifts from His Majesty's private collection," Li Jing said, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "You are expected to read, memorize, and comprehend every single page before the winter snows hit the capital."
Xue Rengui peeked inside the bag. His vision blurred slightly at the sheer volume of paper. The sack was filled to the brim with classical military treatises, historical campaign logs, defensive architecture diagrams, and... advanced algebra textbooks?
He looked up at Li Jing with a questioning expression that basically screamed: "Dude, weeks ago I was plowing fields until I vomited from exhaustion. What exactly do you expect me to do with these books? Use them as firewood?"
Li Jing nodded firmly. "His Majesty is restructuring the state curriculum to prioritize practical engineering. Within the next few months, advanced mathematics will become a mandatory, non-negotiable requirement for every student enrolled in both the Xiuwen Academy and the Guozijian."
Xue Rengui swallowed his questions, pulled the drawstring tight, and slung the heavy sack over his shoulder with immense care. The weight of it was both literal and metaphorical - these books represented a future he'd never dared to imagine just weeks ago.
As Li Jing and Su Dingfang turned to leave, discussing something about the Wulei Temple and gunpowder experiments, Xue Rengui found himself standing alone in the hallway with his mountain of books and a stomach that had been growling since dawn.
Pei Xingjian gave him a quick wave. "I'll see you in a few days, Xue Li! Don't forget to read the part about cavalry formations - it's really interesting!"
And just like that, the eleven-year-old was gone, leaving Xue Rengui to navigate the labyrinthine corridors of the Imperial Academy on his own.
His stomach chose that moment to announce its presence with a rumble so loud it echoed off the marble walls. Xue Rengui's face burned with embarrassment, even though there was no one around to hear it. Old habits died hard - the constant awareness of hunger, the mental calculation of how many hours until his next meal, the fear that this newfound security might vanish as quickly as it had appeared.
He spotted a front desk at the end of the hall, where a middle-aged clerk with spectacles perched on his nose was busy stamping documents. Xue Rengui approached cautiously, his worn boots silent on the polished floor.
"Excuse me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was told I'm a state student now. Does that... does that include meals?"
The clerk, a middle-aged man with spectacles perched on his nose and ink stains on his fingers, looked up from his ledger with a tired smile. "Ah, you must be Xue Rengui. The new military student."
Xue Rengui nodded, too nervous to speak.
"Don't worry," the clerk said, waving a dismissive hand. "The Imperial Academy provides full food and lodging for all state students. Three meals a day, a bed in the dormitory, even a small stipend for personal expenses. You won't go hungry here."
Xue Rengui's shoulders slumped with relief so profound he almost cried right there in the hallway. "Three meals... every day?"
The clerk chuckled. "Every day. Breakfast at dawn, lunch at midday, dinner at dusk. The kitchen staff doesn't miss a day, rain or shine. And the food's not bad either. Better than what most soldiers get in the field, I'm told."
"Where... where do I sleep?" Xue Rengui asked, his voice cracking slightly.
"Follow the corridor to the east wing," the clerk said, pointing with his brush. "Third door on the left. There's a bed with your name on it. The dormitory master will show you around later."
Xue Rengui bowed deeply, his heart swelling with gratitude. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
The clerk waved him off. "Don't thank me. Thank the Emperor. It's his decree that state students shouldn't have to worry about survival while they're learning to serve the empire."
As Xue Rengui walked away, the clerk called after him, "Oh, and one more thing!"
Xue Rengui turned back, his eyes wide.
"If you're hungry now, the kitchen's still serving lunch. Just tell the cook you're a new student. He'll hook you up."
Xue Rengui's stomach growled again, louder this time. "I... I think I will. Thank you."
And just like that, the constant, gnawing worry that had been his companion for the past year was gone. No more wondering where his next meal would come from. No more sleeping on cold ground with nothing but a thin blanket. No more calculating how many days he could stretch a single coin before he'd have to find work again.
Since his survival was guaranteed, he made a silent vow right then and there. He would study until his brains melted. If he met classical philosophy, he would beat it into submission. If he met The Art of War, he would memorize it backwards and forwards. Even mathematics - that mysterious, number-filled nightmare - he would conquer it in his own way. He would kick those numbers into shape if it was the last thing he did.
He refused to let a hyperactive eleven-year-old chatterbox outshine him in front of the faculty.
---
Watching the Emperor's chosen divine general shuffle off down the hall, clutching his bag of books like a lifeline, Li Jing nodded with satisfaction. The kid had heart. You could see it in his eyes. That look that had nothing to do with food and everything to do with proving himself.
"Both of them are promising," Li Jing said, more to himself than to Su Dingfang.
Su Dingfang nodded, though his agreement came with a sting. He'd just watched his future star pupil get stolen right out from under him. One was a strategic genius who'd been reading military texts since he could walk. The other was raw, unpolished, but had the kind of grit you couldn't teach.
Then they both turned and headed toward the Wulei Temple.
Future historians would often joke about the Kuangdao Office, saying the place was so boring that the guards spent their shifts sweeping dust off the flagstones. But anyone in the inner circle knew the quiet exterior was a cover. Underneath those standard Daoist shrines lay the most guarded secret in the empire. Given the nature of the research, Su Dingfang had decided to tag along, eager to see this gunpowder business for himself.
As they crossed the outer pavilion, they ran straight into Yan Lide. The Imperial Architect was buzzing with energy, his face flushed from his recent engineering lecture.
Li Jing raised a hand in greeting. "It looks like your lecture went well, Lide."
Yan Lide bowed, a little too eagerly. "Yaoshi! I was hoping to run into you. Yes, the lecture went... explosively well, if I do say so myself."
Ever since the secret night-test on the northern plains, where they'd watched the gunpowder prototypes blow a hillside apart, his entire focus had been on scaling up production through the Imperial Workshops. He'd worried that a traditionalist like Li Jing would see his mechanical work as an insult to martial honor. Instead, the Duke of Wei had proven surprisingly open-minded, personally accompanying him to the throne room to push for a dedicated chemical weapons division.
Now, the Wulei Office under the Office of Imperial Construction had been set up with a basic framework. None of this would have been possible without Li Jing's help. Yan Lide knew that, and he was grateful.
"Yaoshi seems in high spirits," Yan Lide said. "I take it Xue Rengui and Pei Xingjian lived up to the hype?"
Li Jing's smile was small but genuine. "Better than I expected. The Pei boy is brilliant. The Xue boy has potential. Raw, unrefined, but potential nonetheless."
Yan Lide reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small object, handing it to Li Jing with a flourish. "One of the optical tools I made for my students. You might find a use for it."
Li Jing took it, turning it over in his hands. It was cool to the touch. A small piece of glass, polished so each surface bulged slightly in the center.
When he held it up, he noticed something odd. Through the glass, the lines on his palm appeared much larger and clearer.
"This is a burning mirror? I've seen bronze ones, but never glass."
He knew burning mirrors well. Taoist alchemists used them often. You cast a concave shape in bronze, polished the inside until smooth, and angled it toward the sun. The light concentrated at a single point. Put dried grass there, and it caught fire.
Soldiers still carried them on campaigns, just in case.
When Li Jing and Li Shiji had sealed off the Wulei Temple, they'd banned even these mirrors to control fire sources.
But glass was different from bronze. Lighter. Clearer. More practical.
Yan Lide demonstrated on the spot. He angled the glass toward the sun, focused the light on a piece of dry grass, and within moments, smoke rose, then flames.
"Convenient," Li Jing observed. That much was obvious. Lighter than bronze, easier to carry. And the magnifying effect was a bonus.
He looked up at the sky, and an idea hit him. Could this be used for timed gunpowder ignition?
If intelligence said the enemy would pass a spot at a certain time, you could bury the powder and set the mirror to catch the sun at just the right angle. The enemy marches by. The sun hits the mirror. Boom.
Rare, but useful.
And this involved math too. Angles. Light. The sun's position. Truly, mathematics was the foundation of all things.
Turning the glass over in his hands, Li Jing moved to the question that had been nagging him.
"And the telescope? How's that coming along?"
Yan Lide sighed. "You'll have to be patient, Yaoshi. The Imperial Workshops are stretched thin. Since the Emperor started pulling those future records, my department has been juggling twenty projects at once. The gunpowder facility from scratch. New ship designs for the navy. Better steel for cavalry armor. And on top of that, the Ministry of Works wants us to figure out how to mass-produce cheap iron nails for construction."
He threw up his hands. "My engineers haven't slept properly in weeks. The Director hasn't been this overwhelmed since the dynasty began."
Yan Lide leaned in, a tired grin breaking through his exhaustion as he explained why he'd come to the academy.
"That's the real reason I gave that lecture today. The telescope needs a lot of trial and error with glass lenses. My staff doesn't have the time. So I brought some ground glass samples to the academy, gave the students a dramatic speech about achieving eternal fame, and left them to do the tedious work for me."
He chuckled, completely unashamed.
"Let the young and energetic spend their nights figuring out optical geometry for free. It's a great way for them to serve the state."