I was beaten and driven out of the Chancellor’s Mansion with clubs.
As I lay dying of illness in the pouring rain, a scholar picked me up and took me home.
He didn’t mind my filth, nor did he mind my stupidity.
He cared for me in silence, acting even more like a mute than I did.
Once my injuries had healed, I prepared to bid the scholar farewell.
He went out to buy supplies for my journey, but he did not return that night. When I finally found him, I discovered that someone had broken both his legs and left him on the street to die.
He saw me and looked dazed for a moment, his face tinged with regret.
“Zhizhi, why haven’t you left? You should have gone.”
I wanted to ask myself that too-why hadn’t I left? Perhaps it was the few scraps of conscience I had left that made me unable to walk away, unable to avoid the trouble.
I dragged him home and nursed him with care. Before long, he recovered.
Neither of us ever mentioned my departure again. Later, his name appeared on the golden roster.
He was named the Top Graduate during the palace examinations, and he was on the verge of achieving fame and fortune.
Yet, he knelt and pleaded with His Majesty to thoroughly reinvestigate the case of the deposed Crown Prince from years ago.
His Majesty was furious. He threw him into the Imperial Prison and ordered his exile to the frontier.
I had no money and couldn’t get into the Imperial Prison.
I could only wait at the city gates, hoping to run into him and ask what on earth had happened.
But I waited through several dawns and dusks, and he never came.
Later still, I entered the palace as a study companion for the Fifth Princess.
Only then did I learn that a scholar in the Imperial Prison that year had died to prove his resolve, smashing his head against the blood-stained walls of the cell. Naturally, there were no guards to escort a prisoner out through the city gates.
But the Song Duhe I knew was never a reckless man, and he certainly wasn’t one to choose death so easily.
