Chapter 147 — Karmic Debt
Purple Streets of Chang'an · Page 1 of 4
Song Ke knew how he had gotten back.
On the road home, when he reached Xinglong, he received word that his mother had died of illness.
Six days and five nights, he pressed on day and night, riding hard for home.
His guards had all been left far behind; only Yu Jian had managed to keep up.
The instant he swung down from the saddle, his legs went weak—had Yu Jian and the steward on duty at the gate not caught him, he might have fallen to the ground.
"Young Master! Young Master!" The air was full of choking voices, thick with joy and relief at seeing him back.
Tears brimmed in Song Yan's eyes as he ran along the fluttering funeral banners toward the mourning hall.
"Brother!" Song Han, who had been receiving condolences before the spirit tablet, flung himself in his hemp mourning garments into Song Yan's arms. "Why did you come back so late?" His voice was full of fear and reproach.
"It's your brother's fault!" Song Yan embraced him, tears spilling from his bloodshot eyes. "It's all your brother's fault... I came back too late..."
Song Han burst into loud weeping. "Brother, brother!"
Song Yan led his brother by the hand to the spirit tablet and knelt.
"Mother, I'm home!" Face streaming with tears, he knocked his head three times before her.
Someone came over. "Tianci, put on your mourning clothes."
It was the voice of his eldest cousin, Song Qin.
Song Cen looked after the family well. He had found his eldest cousin Song Maochun a post as assistant secretary in the Linheng Office of Shanglin Park; a few years later he contrived to squeeze out the office's chief and install Song Maochun in his place. His cousin Song Fengchun served as deputy commissioner in the Chongwen Gate Tax Office, and another cousin, Song Tongchun, as deputy commissioner of the Yi-Character Vault of the Inner Treasury. The Linheng Office chief was at least a proper eighth-rank post; the deputy commissioners of the Chongwen Gate Tax Office and the Inner Treasury's Yi-Character Vault were unranked—but who could withstand their rich pickings? The Linheng Office submitted tribute fruit annually; the Chongwen Gate Tax Office collected the wine tax on goods entering the capital; and the Yi-Character Vault of the Inner Treasury belonged to the Ministry of War, administering the padded coats, battle shoes, and fur caps of the various garrisons. Petty officers though they were, they were all of the Song clan, so even vice ministers and vice directors showed them a measure of deference; whatever benefits came down from their superiors never failed to include them, and there were the lands left by their ancestors besides. One could hardly imagine how comfortably they lived.
Thus Song Cen commanded tremendous prestige within the Song family—one might well say his word was law.
Song Qin was seven years older than Song Yan and had married the previous spring.
Before the wedding, Song Maochun had brought his son to see Song Cen, hoping Song Cen would find the boy a good post, only to be berated: "So short-sighted! Jingzhi has already passed the prefectural examination and stands on the verge of qualifying as a stipendiary student—he ought to put his whole mind to his studies! If he can earn the xiucai degree, then I can speak up even before the Emperor himself—if I cannot get him a proper seventh-rank post as a provincial construction office chief, I can at least get him an eighth-rank post as a guard-commandant's assistant! That future would far outshine yours! You can't spend your whole life an unranked petty clerk! And if Jingzhi has no such luck—if he has not earned the xiucai by thirty—then it will not be too late to find him a post." He added, "Our family is thin in numbers; all the more reason to hold together. Even if Tianci had three heads and six arms, it would avail him nothing without kinsmen at his side. Do not be content with small comforts. Whatever can lift the children a step higher—exhaust every means to lift them a step further!"