Compared to a superlative marquis whose merits overshadowed the throne, Emperor Yongtai much preferred a fledgling youth not yet grown to inherit the title. Moreover, he thought to himself, this was Xing Muzheng’s submission. First he had laid down his arms before the late emperor; now he ceded his marquisate to his son. All were signs of obedience.
Victory without battle—this was the highest stratagem of a general. Emperor Yongtai was most pleased with this chain of moves he had laid. And if Xing Muzheng did not survive his illness, so much the better.
He asked Eunuch Zhao, who reported that Xing Muzheng indeed seemed gravely ill, and Imperial Physician Jia had judged his recovery unlikely. The emperor then asked Xing Pingchun, “And your honored father’s health… is it holding?”
For a moment Xing Pingchun choked up, but he replied, “In answer to Your Majesty, Father is unwell for now, but it is not serious.”
Emperor Yongtai carefully studied the stubborn set of the youth’s face, more satisfied than ever. He sighed, “Since I learned of your father’s grave illness, I have often lain awake at night, fearing that such a pillar of the realm might pass before enjoying his due peace. Now that he has such a wish, I shall grant it for him. In a few days, I shall issue an edict to invest you as Marquis Dingxi, grant you a mansion, and appoint you as study companion to the Eldest Prince.”
Xing Pingchun knelt and gave thanks. Young Master Chen wiped his tears, bewildered. Clearly his imperial brother-in-law should have been standing up for him—so how had it become an imperial decree of ennoblement? If this boy became Marquis Dingxi, wouldn’t he, on meeting him, have to bow? Even if he became the top scholar, he would still have to bow? Would he never in this life wash away this humiliation?
Only now did Emperor Yongtai seem to recall Consort Liang’s brother. He cleared his throat and gave Xing Pingchun a perfunctory scolding—saying Yongan was not Yuzhou, he could not act so recklessly, and telling him to apologize to Young Master Chen so they could reconcile and be done with it.
Without a word of protest, Xing Pingchun gave Young Master Chen a deep bow, admitting fault with the utmost sincerity. Finally, he drew a small box of ointment from his sleeve, handing it over and saying it was excellent for reducing swelling and pain, leaving no scar.
Emperor Yongtai laughed heartily, even finding some appreciation for this slippery Xing boy.
Thus Xing Pingchun made his name in one stroke. On the day he was granted a residence, he invited a lion-dance troupe to perform at his gates in great celebration. He even held three days of open feasting, tables laid for all the common people. This was most unusual in Yongan, where the city teemed with royals and nobles, all too cautious to flaunt wealth, lest they be accused of extravagant waste. But Xing Pingchun claimed it was Yuzhou custom, and insisted on making it lively, known to all.
Sure enough, Huang Gong submitted a memorial accusing him, but Emperor Yongtai paid it little mind, only saying the new Marquis Dingxi was still young, merely seeking amusement, no grave fault. Yet, though he said so, he later summoned Xing Pingchun—who was then attending lessons with the Crown Prince—and gave him a scolding. Feeling wronged, Xing Pingchun circled round and round, finally asking who it was stabbing him in the back.
Emperor Yongtai, face stern, replied, “Minister Huang is head of the censors. That is his duty. How can you say he is stabbing you in the back?”
The very next day, Emperor Yongtai heard that last night someone had splashed filth all over Huang Gong’s front gate, leaving Huang Gong so furious his face was the color of excrement. Hearing this, Emperor Yongtai burst into laughter. Huang Gong had once been under Xing Muzheng’s command; he had no wish for his beloved young Marquis Dingxi to be on good terms with him.
Xing Pingchun thus stayed on in Yongan, replacing Xu Anshi as the new little King scourge. He accompanied the princes to study in the palace, but either dozed off or slipped out to relieve himself. He raided every bird’s nest in the palace, was unrivaled in fistfights, and even dragged the Eldest Prince into several brawls with the Second Prince’s group. Each time, both were punished by the emperor to copy out texts, and once, when the punishment was harsher, they even received ten strokes of the rod.
If he was like this inside the palace, he was even more outrageous outside. Xing Pingchun and Li Ding were invincible at the Yongan polo grounds. He also gambled with Xu Anshi several times, almost draining Xu Anshi’s private purse. Xu Anshi, unwilling to accept defeat, secretly had people sack Xing Pingchun in a burlap bag—but ended up being beaten half to death instead. Yet this young Master Xu was a strange one: not only did he not hold a grudge after the beating, he even submitted wholeheartedly. When his injuries healed, he led a crowd to surround the Dingxi Marquis’s residence. Everyone thought they were about to stir up big trouble—even the Shuntian Prefecture sent bailiffs to watch in secret, ready to report at once, so that the Prefect could make sure news of whatever happened involving these two untouchable young masters reached the palace.
Who would have thought, Xu Anshi had shown up in such force only to pledge allegiance. Though two years older than Xing Pingchun, he stupidly knelt and insisted on becoming Xing Pingchun’s underling. When word of this reached the Duke Xu’s household, the whole family was beside themselves with rage. Yet even a round of beating couldn’t make Xu Anshi change his mind. Luckily, the family had long given up hope for him, so they simply let him be.
Xing Pingchun, for his part, was loyal. After taking Xu Anshi as a sworn brother, he returned all the winnings he had taken from him. Deeply moved, Xu Anshi took that silver and led his new “big brother” to the Four Seas Gambling House, where they squandered money everywhere. Very soon, Xing Pingchun and Xu Anshi became the two fattest sheep most welcome at Four Seas.
When Emperor Yongtai heard of this, he inevitably summoned the two and gave them a tongue-lashing. He was especially pained over Xing Pingchun: “I summoned you from Yuzhou hoping you would study properly in the palace and grow to become a pillar of our Great Xie dynasty. Who knew you would be useless at essays but play the rogue like a tyrant! I have failed your father!”
Xing Pingchun was long used to being dragged before the emperor for scolding, and now wore the expression of a pig unafraid of boiling water. “Your servant is no material for office anyway. Besides, as Dingxi Marquis I am already quite prestigious. Why should I still enter court and become one of those so-called pillars? Your servant isn’t a fool…” His words trailed off into a mumble under the emperor’s glare. Xu Anshi, at the side, kept nodding vigorously. Wasn’t that exactly the truth!
“You brat! If you keep on like this, I’ll pack you back to Yuzhou!”
Xing Pingchun’s eyes widened in panic; he dropped to his knees, waving frantically. “Your Majesty is wise, this servant dares not again! Please, don’t send me back!”
Emperor Yongtai arched a brow and laughed. “You’re a strange son indeed. Everyone longs to return to their parents’ side to fulfill filial duty, yet you want none of it?”
Xing Pingchun said: “Of course this servant wishes to be filial at his parents’ knees, but my father is too strict. Back in Yuzhou, I rose earlier than the chickens and slept later than the dogs. I truly cannot bear such bitter days again. I beg Your Majesty’s mercy—let me stay as companion reader to the Eldest Prince! I will cause no more trouble!” He knocked his head to the floor as he spoke.
So that was it—freed from a strict father, he had become a wild horse off the reins. Emperor Yongtai kept a stern face. “A son ungroomed will not become a vessel. Your father’s harshness is for your good, yet you fail to see it. I cannot indulge you any longer. Zhaohui! From now on, the young Marquis Xing’s essays are to be submitted alongside the Eldest Prince’s, directly to me. I will personally oversee Beloved Official Xing’s son’s education!”
At that, Xing Pingchun’s face instantly crumpled as though he had swallowed ten catties of bitter herbs.
When the two shuffled away like defeated roosters, the emperor, satisfied, said to Zhaohui: “I once thought my cousin useless—who knew he would render such great service.”
Zhaohui bowed and assented, but after some hesitation said: “It’s only… with the young Marquis Xing so unruly, is it truly fitting to keep him by the Eldest Prince’s side…”
Emperor Yongtai shook his head. “If the Eldest Prince could be led astray by such a boy, then he is unworthy of being heir.”
