Chapter 82: Brother Zhang, You Gave Up

As the saying goes, one does not realize how minor their official rank is until they reach Chang'an.

There is also a joke: one day, a carriage ran amok on Vermilion Bird Avenue, knocking down ten pedestrians along the way—eight of whom were sixth-rank officials, and the other two were Court Attendants (which is also a proper sixth-rank post).

Yet, though sixth-rank officials crowded the streets of Chang'an like carp crossing the river, in certain key departments, a sixth-rank post there was incomparable to the same rank elsewhere.

Zhang Jiuling had only just recently been promoted to such a significant sixth-rank office—the Assistant Director at the Ministry of Appointments of the Great Tang.

Thus, his appearance at the Zhang family’s gate had an immediate and powerful effect. The petty clerk Cui, who had long eked out a living in the counties surrounding the capital, recognized at a glance from the color and cut of Zhang Jiuling's robes and sash that this was not someone he could afford to provoke. Noticing as well the color and make of the silk scroll in Zhang Jiuling’s hands, and the retinue following him, Cui immediately kowtowed, admitted his fault, and fled in haste.

“Brother, this time I have been blessed by your good fortune. After enduring much hardship, I have been promoted by His Majesty to the position of Assistant Director at the Ministry of Appointments. As I happened to be free today, I volunteered to personally deliver the imperial decree awarding you your honors!” Upon seeing Zhang Qian, Zhang Jiuling wasted no words. He untied the silk cord from the scroll’s case with both hands, and carefully drew out a dark yellow silk scroll.

“Brother Zishou…” Although Zhang Qian had already guessed that his visitor had come because of the successful trials of the alcohol sterilization method, he was still taken aback, staring Zhang Jiuling up and down, at a loss for words or actions.

This, truly, was the meaning of brotherhood. To bear the sword for a brother is nothing; to wield it against oneself for a brother is true loyalty…

“What’s wrong? Did you not expect the court to issue a reward so swiftly?” Zhang Jiuling, unnerved by Zhang Qian’s stare, frowned and asked softly. “Or did you not expect that I would be the one to announce the decree?”

“No, I didn’t expect it—not at all!” Zhang Qian seemed to wake from a dream, pulling his gaze away, still unsure how to properly receive the decree.

Fortunately, his two clever junior brothers were at his side. Sensing their eldest brother’s confusion, Guo Nu promptly raised his voice in celebration, “Your humble servant Guo Nu, on behalf of my elder brother Zhang Qian, thanks His Majesty for his great kindness!”

“Our brother is so moved he cannot speak, please don’t blame him, Officer of Heaven!” Ren Cong was quick to follow, stowing away his envy and echoing Guo Nu’s words. (Note: During the reign of Empress Wu, the Ministry of Appointments was renamed the Ministry of Heaven.)

As they spoke, the two juniors quickly set a low table before them to serve as an incense altar, placed a censer and lit three sticks of incense. Then, one of them grabbed Zhang Qian’s arm and, like moving a puppet, pulled him behind the altar. “Brother, hurry and thank the Emperor’s grace! Kneel—just as you usually sit, keep your back straight, don’t be so stiff…”

“There are no outsiders here; let’s skip the formalities,” Zhang Jiuling, seeing their flustered preparations, was reminded of the embarrassment of his own first appointment. Warmth welled up in his heart, and he smiled, nodding gently.

“Many thanks for His Majesty’s great kindness!” Guo Nu and Ren Cong chorused their thanks, then rose and saluted Zhang Jiuling. “Thank you, Officer of Heaven! You have worked hard, please have a seat and some tea.”

“No rush, let’s wait for your brother to receive the decree first,” Zhang Jiuling replied with a smile, then slowly unfurled the imperial edict. “Never mind, I won’t read it aloud. Yongzhao, you may look at it yourself.”

“I will, I will read it right now!” Zhang Qian rubbed his face hard, trying to compose himself, and then took the scroll in both hands, holding it before his eyes.

However, instead of reading, his gaze darted around, and he asked tentatively, “Brother Zishou, aren’t imperial decrees always delivered by eunuchs? I remember just a few days ago…”

“You wish for a eunuch to deliver your decree? How lucky you must think yourself!” Zhang Jiuling instantly understood Zhang Qian’s earlier hesitation—it wasn’t joy, but doubt over whether he had already entered the palace. Angered, he moved around the altar and punched Zhang Qian. “Zhang Yongzhao, I was concerned that, being new in the capital, you might not know the proper procedure and would be criticized, so I volunteered to announce the decree. If you’re not grateful, so be it, but to suspect such a thing…”

“Brother Zishou, please don’t be angry. I truly didn’t know!” Relieved at last, Zhang Qian relied on his ability to take a beating, enduring a few solid punches to the chest, and then bowed in apology. “I just heard that only eunuchs deliver imperial decrees…”

“That’s for the bestowal of marquisates and lordships, genuine investitures. You, as a mere eighth-rank Registrar of the Ordnance Office, are already lucky enough to receive an official decree. And you wanted a eunuch to deliver it? Such wishful thinking!” Zhang Jiuling’s short beard bristled with anger, though he knew Zhang Qian meant no offense. He punched him a few more times before turning aside to catch his breath.

“Officer of Heaven, my brother truly doesn’t know. He can’t even tell an official from a scribe in the workshop!”

“Officer of Heaven, the laws of Qin prescribe a twenty-rank system. My brother has only just emerged from the mountains—he can’t possibly understand Tang protocol!”

Guo Nu and Ren Cong once again stepped in to smooth things over, finally explaining why Zhang Qian had been so flustered and discourteous.

Zhang Qian himself blushed with shame, hurriedly holding out the imperial decree and bowing repeatedly to Zhang Jiuling. “Brother Zishou, please forgive me. I truly meant no disrespect. Ren, go and pack two large barrels of our best chrysanthemum wine for Brother Zishou, and send them to his residence by carriage.”

“Four barrels, plus twenty bottles of Six-Flower Dew!” Zhang Jiuling glared at Zhang Qian, determined to exact some compensation, “I shall soon host a banquet for my colleagues to celebrate my good fortune. Two barrels won’t be enough!”

“Six barrels—six barrels of chrysanthemum wine, and fifty bottles of Six-Flower Dew!” Zhang Qian, ashamed yet grateful for Zhang Jiuling’s initiative in delivering the decree and sparing him embarrassment, immediately doubled the gift.

Seeing his willingness to correct his mistake, Zhang Jiuling’s expression finally softened. He rolled his eyes and muttered, “It’s just me today. Had it been someone else and you’d suspected he’d castrated himself to serve the Emperor, there’d be no end to it between you!”

“You are most magnanimous, Brother Zishou! Please don’t hold it against me!” Zhang Qian’s attitude was thoroughly apologetic, and he continued bowing.

Alas, it’s all the fault of those historical dramas! They make it seem that only eunuchs deliver imperial decrees. And what a fool I am—given the medical standards of the Tang, if Zhang Jiuling had castrated himself, he’d be bedridden for a month at least. How could he be out delivering decrees so soon?

“Enough. You probably can’t decipher the decree anyway. Hand it here!” As Zhang Qian was silently berating himself, Zhang Jiuling, his anger gone, took the decree back, unrolled it on the incense table, and patiently explained. “In the Tang, appointments of third rank and above are conferred by investiture; from junior third to fifth are assigned by edict; sixth and seventh by rescript, recommended by the Ministry of Appointments and reviewed by the Secretariat, then sealed by the Emperor. Eighth and ninth ranks are directly nominated by the Ministry, filled in on a standard decree…”

Now he understood. Zhang Qian nodded like a fool.

The decree was pre-written and stamped with the imperial seal, only the name left blank. The Ministry would fill in whoever was deemed suitable. In fact, the Emperor Li Xian might not even know whether such a subject existed among his officials.

“His Majesty, though burdened with a thousand affairs, takes a keen interest in alcohol and the technique of alcohol sterilization!” Zhang Jiuling, ever astute, saw through Zhang Qian’s thoughts and quickly reassured him with a smile. “Both Daoist Master Gong and I have benefited after personally verifying the technique. He has been promoted to Vice-Minister of Works, and I to the Ministry of Appointments. As for your name and merit, His Majesty has mentioned you many times, but since you have not served before, you could not be promoted too rapidly. Thus, the Ministry assigned you as Registrar of the Ordnance Office, an eighth-rank post.”

“I see… So be it, eighth-rank it is. Brother Zishou, does this mean I no longer have to serve in the labor corvée?”

“The Five Directorates and Nine Temples stand alongside the Three Departments and Six Ministries, all answerable directly to His Majesty. For a mere unranked clerk to dare bully a proper eighth-rank Registrar? Not only are you exempt from all taxes and duties, but so are four male members of your family. In addition to your salary, you are granted eight qing of land in your name—though, only two dou of grain per mu is paid annually. Also, the court recognizes your learning and integrity, and awards you the honorary title of Cavalry Officer, a nominal seventh-rank military post. The fourth line of the decree details this. Thus, in addition to your civil salary, you can draw a military stipend as well, and if a seventh-rank military post opens, you have priority for promotion!” (Note: The Five Directorates and Nine Temples were central government agencies, responsible for astronomy, education, justice, and technology.)

“Many thanks to His Majesty, and to all the superiors of the Ministry of Appointments!” As long as no one came to bully him, Zhang Qian was content. He rose and repeatedly bowed toward the palace.

“Enough with the theatrics—there’s no one else here. Who are you performing for?” Zhang Jiuling rolled his eyes again and sneered, “Your commission and seal are with my retinue outside. Send someone to fetch them. The pattern for your robe is there too. Go have a tailor measure you, and claim the cost from the Ordnance Office. By the way, as Registrar, you’ll be in charge of the newly established Gunpowder Bureau. You may recommend two ninth-rank overseers to assist you. But whoever you choose, they must take office by the end of this month, or they’ll be blacklisted by the court forever!”

“Thank you for His Majesty’s great kindness!” Without waiting for Zhang Qian to digest this, Guo Nu and Ren Cong had already leapt up to bow toward the palace on his behalf.

A ninth-rank overseer was a menial official, far below the magistrate they had once hoped to buy, but it was a real, salaried post. The magistrate’s position, by contrast, could take years to fill. And this was a capital post, equivalent to a county constable. Even those who passed the civil or math exams might not obtain one. With their eldest brother in charge of nominations, who else could he recommend but them?

“You two, don’t be so hasty in your joy!” Zhang Qian, displeased with Guo Nu and Ren Cong’s exuberance, frowned and chided them. Then he quickly turned to Zhang Jiuling. “Brother Zishou, forgive me for asking—wasn’t the alcohol sterilization method meant for treating wounds? Why is it placed under the Gunpowder Bureau?”

“Would you rather go to the Imperial Medical Office and spend all day memorizing prescriptions with a bunch of old men?” Zhang Jiuling rolled his eyes for the third time, replying irritably. “Besides sterilizing wounds, surely you realize alcohol has other uses?”

“You mean… for setting fires?” Once again, Zhang Qian was dumbfounded by the wisdom of the ancients, and after a long pause, he ventured the question.

“You truly don’t know? This alcohol is a secret art of your Qin and Mo schools!” Zhang Jiuling scrutinized him, his not-so-young face clearly spelling “suspicion.” “Or are you pretending not to know its power? Just the other day, Doctor Liu of the Imperial Medical Office, following your method, used too much alcohol to clean an animal’s wound. As night fell, he lit a candle. Instantly, the whole animal shed was blown sky-high. A sheep and two dogs were killed on the spot, and the loss of chickens and ducks numbered in the dozens. Doctor Liu himself is still bedridden, and whether he’ll ever get up again is uncertain!”