Chapter Thirty-Six: The Virtue of the Game—An Unsolvable Riddle of Broken Verses

The Cold Food Festival had arrived.

This was an important holiday during the Tang dynasty, granting all officials three days off. Yet Li Wei made his way through the Ministry of Justice and the Ministry of War, reviewing official documents. Of course, even though the officials were on leave, the halls of the Three Departments and Six Ministries were not deserted; there were still many guards and soldiers present. But no one dared to hinder the Crown Prince should he wish to enter.

In truth, Li Wei had deliberately waited for this day.

After making his rounds and confirming there was no one nearby, he said to Bi’er, “Prepare a cup of tea for me.” Bi’er turned to fetch the tea, and Li Wei swiftly stamped the forged travel permits. He had studied the procedures for passing through checkpoints in preparation for escape; travel permits were essential. However, he had made a mistake—these were not handled by the Ministry of Revenue, but rather adjudicated by the Department of Justice under the Secretariat, and locally by the Ministry of Revenue’s military clerks, with consultation from the advisory officers. The process was exceedingly complicated.

Of course, he could barely distinguish who Dai Zhizhi was, let alone the intricacies of such obscure procedures.

Normally, such permits were rarely used; one would not typically appeal to the central government when crossing a checkpoint. Using a Department of Justice permit to pass through a checkpoint was much like wielding Guan Yu’s legendary Green Dragon Crescent Blade to slaughter a chicken. But with this permit, he could impersonate a Korean, a Japanese, or any ethnicity resembling the Central Plains people, entering or exiting the border at will!

He felt somewhat ashamed. One should not assume that being thrust into the body of the Crown Prince would immediately grant him extraordinary abilities. As for the classics, he had to study diligently, at the very least not falling far behind the original Li Hong. He possessed some foundation in ancient texts; without it, he might not even recognize the complex characters.

Then there were the customs and institutions of the Tang dynasty. He realized he didn’t even know about the Granary of Regular Supply; fortunately, he had kept a low profile and not tried to show off. As for the travel permit, he had also taken it for granted. The day he reacted quickly and claimed to have a soul-losing illness—otherwise, the Eastern Palace would surely now be crawling with Taoist priests and monks attempting to exorcise him.

He then carried a heap of maps back to the Eastern Palace. These required careful study, for there were many maps nationwide, and the terrain differed from later times; the checkpoints, garrisons, and regional arrangements all needed to be memorized. But it was impossible to remember them all at once. Not only did he gather maps of the Tang heartland, but also those of Tuyuhun and the Western Regions.

His temperament was gentle and slow, but this brought the advantage of meticulousness.

He made his notes, his expression entirely composed. Even if Di Renjie were present, he would never guess Li Wei’s intentions.

With over twenty forged permits tucked away, he felt prepared for any eventuality. His heart settled. Escaping was a last resort, for in an unfamiliar land, without Xue Rengui’s martial prowess, and possibly unable to communicate, life would hardly be pleasant—but it was better than dying inexplicably. Having an escape route gave him confidence.

The collection of maps was substantial, so he summoned a soldier to help, and together with two others, loaded them onto a carriage. Returning to the Eastern Palace, he saw Dujuan and several young palace maids watching the swallow’s nest under the eaves. Upon seeing Li Wei alight from the carriage, they all bowed.

“No need for formalities. What are you watching?”

“Your Highness, today the two little swallows are acting strangely. Only the bigger black one comes down to forage, while the smaller black one stays in the nest and hasn’t come out.”

“Oh? Let me see.”

The names "Big Black" and "Little Black" were given by the palace maids according to their size. Li Wei guessed that Big Black was likely the male and Little Black the female, though he couldn’t be certain. After watching for a while, Bi’er asked worriedly, “Could something be wrong with Little Black?”

Li Wei explained that swallows are loyal creatures; Bi’er cared little for swallows elsewhere, but these two belonged to Li Wei and she was particularly attentive.

“No need to worry. Little Black is laying eggs, which is why she remains in the nest. See, Big Black brings food but doesn’t eat it himself—he’s feeding Little Black.”

Just as he finished, Little Black poked her head out as Big Black returned with an insect, chirping loudly.

The palace maids cheered.

Life in the deep palace was lonely; at first, their attention to Li Wei was purely for favor, but over time genuine affection grew.

“Your Highness, this is wonderful. Soon there will be a whole brood of little swallows.”

Li Wei nodded. Swallows hatch quickly and often produce more than one brood a year.

After the excitement subsided, Dujuan remembered her official business and reported, “Xutai’s attendant, Xu Qidan, is waiting for Your Highness in the hall.”

So the old master had come calling? He thought this, but dared not show disrespect. Not even his father would dare treat Xu Qidan lightly if he hadn’t committed a grave offense. Moreover, Xu Qidan had served as an Academician at the Institute of Literature and as Li Hong’s tutor, teaching the classics. He was, in effect, Li Wei’s true teacher.

Li Wei entered, flicked his sleeves, and said, “Greetings, Attendant Xu.”

“Your Highness, it is I who am honored,” Xu replied, bowing.

They sat together. Xu Qidan said, “With today’s holiday, I heard Your Highness played a game of chess with General Liu, causing him to resign mid-game. I am itching for a match myself. Would Your Highness grant me this pleasure?”

Li Wei had no personal relationship with him, but the previous Li Hong had been close to Xu Qidan, who always greeted him warmly. A request for chess was not unexpected.

He clasped his hands and replied, “That was General Liu’s courtesy to me. Since you wish for a game, how could I refuse?”

With a gesture, he had Bi’er bring out the chessboard and pieces.

They began to array their forces on the board. In terms of skill, Xu Qidan far surpassed Liu Rengui—and Li Wei as well. But at this time, chess was popular among gentlemen, though in Han times it had been looked down upon, only gaining favor in the Jin dynasty after being promoted by figures like Cao Cao. The intricate methods of later times had not yet appeared.

Xu Qidan played methodically. Li Wei sensed trouble and began to play with abandon, creating several large and small ko fights.

“Your Highness,” Xu Qidan said, scratching his head at the chaotic board, “Is there really such a way to play?”

He was not Liu Rengui, who would bluntly accuse him of lacking gentlemanly conduct, so he changed his wording.

“Is there any rule forbidding such moves?”

“None.”

“Then so be it,” Li Wei replied with a sly grin. Xu Qidan was exasperated, and Li Wei was equally so. He placed another stone, triggering a new small ko, which linked with two others to determine the fate of the large group on the left. Xu Qidan was forced into deep contemplation, finally making a cautious move after some time. Li Wei played another stone, starting a ko fight on the right.

With these moves, Xu Qidan’s advantage evaporated in an instant. He was forced to abandon his gentlemanly style and engage Li Wei in direct combat. The board was soon shrouded in tension. Ultimately, Xu Qidan’s skill carried him through, and he snatched victory by a hair.

Yet, after counting the stones, Xu Qidan was drenched in sweat. This match was more taxing than meeting the emperor and empress. A breeze brought clarity, and he pushed the pieces aside, saying, “Your Highness, this game was most improper.”

“Why?”

“It lost the spirit of humility and restraint.”

Li Wei was baffled; he’d played chess in this style all his life, and it had never made him irritable or unruly. As Cao Cao claimed, one could glean military strategy from chess—but if someone like Nie Weiping or Ma Xiaochun were brought to the Tang dynasty to lead armies, would they really win? Even against Koguryo, victory was uncertain. People of this era loved to draw forced parallels. Liu Rengui was a military man and unconcerned; Xu Qidan, a Confucian, naturally disliked such tactics.

He did not wish to argue. He understood well how formidable the great scholars were, and though his eloquence was good, in matters of subtle meaning and philosophy, he was no match for Xu Qidan. He smiled and said, “Attendant Xu, I’ve suffered from soul-losing illness, and some things I remember, others I forget. Perhaps even my playing style has changed as a result.”

“Your Highness, there is something I wish to say, though I hesitate.”

“Please speak.”

“The founder advised, ‘Do not neglect small acts of kindness, do not commit small acts of evil.’ That is why the opening of the Analects is ‘Learning,’ not only to learn but to practice the conduct of gentlemen, filial piety, and benevolence.”

Indeed, the opening lines speak of the joy in repeated study, the delight in friends from afar, and the virtue of not becoming frustrated when misunderstood. The second line emphasizes that gentlemen cultivate the fundamentals, and filial piety is the root of benevolence. This chapter discusses not only learning but the gentleman’s filial piety, benevolence, and morality, and, through Zigong’s words, extols warmth, kindness, modesty, frugality, and humility.

It was only a game of chess, but as the conversation turned to philosophy, Li Wei knew he was outmatched and remained silent, listening.

“Your Highness, though your benevolence is famed throughout the land, you must guard against arrogance and impatience and continue to uphold these virtues. This style of play abandons the virtues of benevolence, humility, warmth, kindness, and respect—it must not be allowed. Alas, even I have fallen into the demonic path.”

He even spoke of demonic paths. Li Wei smiled, outwardly compliant, “Attendant Xu, I will remember your words.”

Fortunately, Xu Qidan was not overly rigid. Seeing the Crown Prince admit his error, and knowing he performed well, he did not dwell on it further. “I have another matter to ask Your Highness.”

“What is it?”

“Yesterday, my young daughter encountered Your Highness in the East Market, did she not?”

“She did.”

“My daughter is mischievous; Your Highness must not take it to heart.”

“Not at all. I found Lady Xu lively and talented.”

Yang Li had left Li Wei with a good impression, though he thought the little pepper was rather mischievous. She was only a young girl, and he had no connection to her beyond a chance meeting.

“I am ashamed that my family’s education is lacking. But Your Highness, what is the next line to that couplet?”

When Xu Li returned, she had glossed over the incident, and after scolding his daughter, Xu Qidan had pondered the answer to the couplet, but could not find it. He did not come for the answer, nor for another game, but to observe Li Wei’s attitude toward his daughter.

“That was a quatrain I happened upon while out, but I haven’t thought of the next line. I did not know yesterday that Lady Xu was your daughter. She wanted to enter the Eastern Palace; I overheard, asked her why, but she wouldn’t say, so I played a little trick. Attendant Xu, it is only a couplet; the matters of the realm are more important. An answer would be nice, but its absence is of no consequence.”

“You haven’t thought of the answer?” Xu Qidan was disappointed.

Not just me—throughout history, billions have passed, and none have found a perfect answer. He shook his head and asked, “Why did Lady Xu want to enter the Eastern Palace?”

The question startled Xu Qidan. He had asked his daughter, but she refused to answer. He then pressed Yan’er, who told him that Xu Li was curious about the Crown Prince after hearing many rumors, and wanted to sneak in to see what he was really like. The idea was absurd, so he scolded his daughter again. Still, he was pleased with his children; his daughter aside, his son Xu Jian was remarkable, having read widely since childhood. Last year, Prince Pei Li Xian heard of him, sent him paper, and Xu Jian composed a poem on the spot—despite being only eleven!

But this was not easy to explain—not that she wanted to see if he had four eyes and two noses.

His face flushed.

Was there some secret behind it? He was curious, but did not pursue the matter. Instead, he said, “It was just a joke. If Lady Xu wishes to visit the Eastern Palace, Attendant Xu may bring her here.”

“That was just her mischief. I did not know about it, but now that I do, I cannot allow her to continue.”

…

Leaving the Eastern Palace, Xu Qidan walked the deserted streets—quiet because of the holiday—lost in thought.

The Crown Prince’s words showed a certain fondness for his daughter. Although this affection was not romantic, it was a good omen. Yet the Crown Prince…

Xu Qidan sighed.