The Yao and Luo families had their eyes opened at Prince Hui’s residence garden. At the dining table, they were deeply impressed by the culinary skills of the princely residence’s cooks.
Luo Yue said, “Sister, you’re living like an immortal now. I want to be a maid at your side!”
Yao Lin said, “Little sister, can your brother come serve as a guard at the princely residence? No wages needed—just three full meals a day!”
Yao Zhenhu was about to ask if they could bring out another jar of wine when Maternal Grandmother laughed and scolded from not far away, “Look at how unpromising you all are.”
Yao Zhenhu quickly shut his mouth.
Yao Huang could tell that her father, uncles, and brothers were all craving the wine at today’s banquet. She smiled and said, “This is tribute wine His Majesty bestowed upon the prince. It comes every year. However, the prince doesn’t drink much ordinarily, so over a hundred jars have piled up in the wine cellar. When we send festival gifts at the Dragon Boat Festival, I’ll send two jars to each of your families.”
Not today though. Coming to the princely residence for a visit and then taking back a pile of gifts would be too much like poor relatives going to rich people’s homes to mooch.
Maternal Grandmother said, “Don’t send anything. A bunch of rough men—giving them tribute wine to drink is wasting good stuff.”
The two maternal aunts nodded in agreement.
Yao Huang didn’t insist further. When the time came, she would just send the festival gifts over directly.
The princely residence’s library pavilion was also on the eastern route, in the last courtyard. The yard was spacious with abundant light. The young servant who managed the library pavilion would regularly move the books inside out to air them in the sun.
The prince was very generous. When Yao Huang brought her four brothers to select books, she still had Eunuch Cao come over in advance. First, to have Eunuch Cao serve as a witness to prove the brothers were all well-mannered. Second, some books might be the prince’s favorites or precious rare editions—Yao Huang needed Eunuch Cao to give her a heads-up.
“Eunuch, do you know which books might be useful for the military imperial examinations?”
Yao Huang humbly sought guidance.
Eunuch Cao was in his early fifties. Having spent decades in the palace and seen much of the world, through exposure and influence he understood the civil and military imperial examinations held once every three years. Moreover, he had a master who was forced to study diligently as a child and loved reading as an adult. Whatever the master read, Eunuch Cao had to understand as well, lest the master want to discuss something and he knew nothing about it.
Eunuch Cao led the five people toward a row of bookshelves. As they walked, he said, “The written portion of the military imperial examinations mainly tests military strategy and tactics. The young masters have surely already read books like ‘The Art of War by Sun Tzu,’ ‘The Art of War by Wu Qi,’ and ‘Six Secret Teachings’ at the martial academy. But different teachers explain things with varying depth. The prince has versions here annotated by various renowned scholars, and when the prince is inspired, he also adds a few comments. They’re right here.”
The military imperial examinations on military strategy didn’t require students to memorize by rote. They tested students’ thorough understanding and flexible application of military strategy. The tactics section involved the court’s defense and governance of border regions and areas with frequent bandit troubles—matters that couldn’t be answered through dead book-learning alone.
When Zhao Sui read books, he didn’t just read works by predecessors. He also read the top three examination papers from all past civil and military imperial examinations of the current dynasty.
Initially, it was at the request of the renowned teachers hired by Noble Consort Du, who hoped her son would become a dragon. Later, after Noble Consort Du had the Fourth Prince and no longer supervised Zhao Sui’s studies, Emperor Yongchang, who had already been delighted by the Second Prince’s intelligence, remained very attentive. Knowing the Second Prince loved reading and had broad interests, Emperor Yongchang kept having people continuously send things to the Second Prince. When they couldn’t send originals, he had people make copies.
Other princes and princesses received gold, silver, and jewels bestowed by their imperial father and imperial mothers. For Zhao Sui, it was all books.
The library pavilion was very quiet. The four brothers sometimes gathered together, sometimes dispersed as they selected books. Finding it boring to just wait, Yao Huang also took down a military text from the bookshelf.
Densely packed characters—she recognized every single one. But when she connected them and carefully pondered their meaning, after reading just a few lines Yao Huang’s head began to ache. It wasn’t that she wasn’t interested in military strategy, but rather that the page was full of too many classical particles and the wording was overly concise, far less accessible than story books.
Yao Huang put down this book and began browsing randomly.
Suddenly, one book had something tucked inside. Yao Huang turned to that page and discovered it was a thin sheet of paper slightly smaller than the book page. On the paper were drawn little figures in armor. Some held flags, some held bows and arrows or long spears, and there were also figures riding horses and beating drums.
Eunuch Cao promptly said nearby, “This is a military formation diagram. The prince drew it according to the formation described in the book when he was eight years old.”
Yao Huang: “…”
At eight years old he could already draw such lifelike little figures, and the figures were doing such complex things?
Eunuch Cao recalled the scene from back then, his eyes full of affection: “Actually, the prince was tired from reading and felt embarrassed to slack off, so he drew little figures to pass the time. Otherwise, for just a military formation diagram, he could have directly used characters, circles, and lines to mark it.”
Yao Huang became interested and specifically searched for books that might have things tucked inside. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find a second sheet with little figures on it.
Eunuch Cao asked, “Does the princess consort want to see the prince’s paintings?”
Yao Huang replied, “Are there some?”
Eunuch Cao said, “This way, please.”
Passing through several book rooms, Eunuch Cao brought the princess consort to a room specifically for storing paintings. Aside from a few hung up, most paintings were stored as scrolls on painting racks or in painting tubes.
“These are all the prince’s paintings. The prince began learning to paint at age four. Whenever there was an excellent work, this old servant would preserve it. After establishing his household, everything was moved here.”
Yao Huang thought about herself at age four—she was still playing in the mud.
The painting scrolls were arranged according to the prince’s age when he created them, from age four to age twenty. Each year had anywhere from two or three paintings to four or five. At age twenty, the northern border became tense. The prince went to the battlefield, and later his legs were injured. He probably had no mood for painting after that.
Yao Huang opened one of the prince’s paintings from when he was four years old. Inside was a section of corridor with a palace lantern hanging from it.
Eunuch Cao, worried the princess consort would look down on the prince’s immature painting skills from childhood, explained, “Actually, the prince didn’t want to keep these practice works. It was this old servant who liked them and snatched a few to preserve. Our prince has such a good temperament—when he saw this old servant had moved the stored paintings over after establishing his household, the prince wasn’t angry at this old servant for taking such initiative.”
Yao Huang had no ability to critique painting techniques. She had never studied painting at all, because those pigments were all too expensive, and her mother had never thought to scrimp and save to raise her as a daughter with many talents and skills.
But she thought this palace lantern painting was very good. It was just that there was only one palace lantern—it looked lonely.
She continued looking at the paintings.
Prince Hui mostly painted still life. Occasionally butterflies would appear on flowers, or birds would perch on treetops. It wasn’t until age eighteen that there was a magnificent battlefield charge scene—vigorous warhorses with all four hooves off the ground, soldiers raising long spears high, gray-blue sky in the distance, wild grass blown askew in the foreground.
Through this painting, Yao Huang seemed to see Prince Hui’s first time on the battlefield, filled with fervent passion.
The second painting from when he was eighteen, also his last, showed Prince Hui painting a scene of flying heavy snow. Under the corridor eaves, a young eunuch stood on a stool holding paste, pasting up Spring Festival couplets, while another young eunuch stood beside him helping to smooth out the red couplet that hadn’t yet adhered properly.
Yao Huang smiled: “That’s Qing Ai and Fei Quan, right?”
Although only their profiles were visible and they were blurred by the snowflakes falling from the sky, one could still recognize the shadows of Qing Ai and Fei Quan.
Eunuch Cao said, “Indeed. This is the only portrait of people around him that the prince has painted. But look how well the prince painted it. Back then Fei Quan was still a bit plump. This double chin is exactly like the real person.”
Yao Huang unconsciously made the slightly lowered head gesture Fei Quan had in the picture and touched her own chin.
Eunuch Cao said, “…The princess consort is naturally beautiful with a flower-like countenance. From any angle, you are beautiful to the extreme, absolutely without the slightest flaw.”
Yao Huang laughed: “You’re quite good at flattery.”