Chapter 006: Deliberate Difficulties

After giving careful instructions, Hu Zhong summoned Zheng Debiao and asked him to take Xue Rui to the archives. According to the regulations of the Imperial Observatory, all internal documents and celestial records were to be managed by the Chief Registrar, whose responsibilities included overseeing the official seals, memorials, books, and files of the Observatory.

Given the complexity of these duties, during the Zhengtong era, a nominal post called the Book Supervisor was established, specifically to manage the archive room where the celestial observation records and various classics were stored. The Book Supervisor was usually chosen from among the astronomy students proficient in all disciplines. Besides overseeing the archives, the supervisor was also responsible for instructing the hereditary students within the Observatory, akin to both a librarian and a teacher.

Naturally, the Book Supervisor received a substantial stipend, making the competition for the position rather fierce. After Xue Yuanhao was imprisoned, Peng Ying, relying on his father’s influence, intimidated the other contenders and secured the role for himself, eager to enjoy the privileges of office ahead of time.

On the way to the archive, Xue Rui had already resolved that if Peng Ying intended to make things difficult for him, he would endure as much as possible—but if it became unbearable, he would not force himself to endure any longer.

The archive was located behind the second hall, in the storeroom. Before long, the two arrived at their destination. Inside, there were many hereditary students, seventeen or eighteen in all, either roughhousing or chatting idly.

As soon as they entered, a portly man with triangular eyes appeared at the doorway, yawning—it was none other than Peng Ying, the son of the Chief Astronomer.

Zheng Debiao greeted him with a bow, “Supervisor Peng, I have brought Xue Rui.”

“So you are Xue Rui?” Peng Ying narrowed his triangular eyes, looking down at him.

At his words, silence immediately fell in the archive. All eyes turned to Xue Rui.

Xue Rui took in their reactions. These hereditary students regarded him with a mix of schadenfreude and sympathy, clearly having caught wind of recent events.

He withdrew his gaze and returned the bow, saying casually, “Student Xue Rui, greets the Supervisor.”

Peng Ying, seeing his indifferent manner, waved dismissively at Zheng Debiao. “You may leave. The Xue boy is now in my care. I will instruct him well and teach him the rules of the Observatory.”

Zheng Debiao, sensing Peng Ying’s unfriendly tone, reminded him, “Chief Registrar Hu instructed that if Xue Rui commits any error, please inform him, and he will take responsibility for discipline, so as not to trouble the Supervisor.”

“Hmph. Matters of the archive need not concern the Chief Registrar. The old man should focus on his recovery,” Peng Ying replied, not even sparing him a glance, and swept into the inner office.

Zheng Debiao had delivered the message, but Peng Ying plainly had no intention of showing respect. He could only murmur to Xue Rui, “If that Peng fellow goes too far, seek out Chief Registrar Hu. Let’s see if he dares to act out in front of Master Hu.”

“Don’t worry, Second Uncle. I know what to do,” Xue Rui replied.

He nodded, watching Zheng Debiao depart. Becoming the center of attention at once, Xue Rui felt somewhat helpless. He approached the group of hereditary students whose expressions were friendly and bowed, “I am Xue Rui, new here. Please look after me.”

“I am Liu Jin.”

“I am Chen Li.”

…

This group was courteous enough; about half introduced themselves. The others, wary, turned away and pretended not to hear.

Xue Rui didn’t mind, and began to ask Liu Jin and the others about the archive.

The archive consisted of seven or eight rooms, containing astronomical classics collected since the founding of the Ming Dynasty, as well as annual celestial observation records submitted by the officials of the two capitals, thirteen provinces, and various prefectures—amounting to tens of thousands of volumes.

Xue Rui could not help but marvel. If future generations had such an abundance of classics to study, they would surely make many discoveries, rather than having to scour archives far and wide for evidence.

They had only exchanged a few words when Peng Ying emerged from the inner office.

Seeing Xue Rui talking with the others, Peng Ying’s expression darkened, and he barked, “You were not brought here to idle and chat! If anyone doesn’t wish to study in the archive, they might as well become clerks and do menial labor, so as not to waste my efforts!”

Intimidated by Peng Ying’s tyranny, the students dared not converse with Xue Rui any longer. Whether busy or not, they pretended to work.

Left alone, Xue Rui could only take the initiative and ask, “Supervisor, I am new here and do not yet know my duties. Please instruct me.”

“Didn’t your father teach you what hereditary students are supposed to do?” Peng Ying eyed him with amusement, then pointed to a mountain of booklets in the corner. “These are last month’s celestial records from all prefectures across the country. They have yet to be sorted. You are to categorize them by province and archive them. If you don’t finish before lunch, you don’t eat.”

A collective gasp sounded in the archive; the students clearly thought the task impossible.

Xue Rui went over for a look and immediately felt his anger rise.

With the two capitals and thirteen provinces, there were nearly fifteen hundred prefectures. Just counting the records would take considerable time. Moreover, the records bore only the prefecture names, no indication of province. It was impossible to finish not just by noon, but even in a day.

But Peng Ying didn’t care. After assigning the task and forbidding the other students from helping, he yawned and returned to his office.

Soon after, thunderous snores echoed from the inner room.

Once Peng Ying was sound asleep, the students relaxed and began discussing with enthusiasm how long Xue Rui would take to finish the task.

Staring at the pile of records, Xue Rui wore a troubled expression.

With only his memory, he could guess the provincial affiliations of at most a few dozen prefectures; any more was beyond him. Sorting them all was as hard as climbing the sky.

But Peng Ying was intent on making things difficult. If he failed at his first task, he would be looked down upon.

“I must complete this task. I will eat that meal no matter what!” Xue Rui resolved, pondering the best way to proceed.

As he wrestled with the problem, Liu Jin sidled over and whispered, “Brother Xue, you’re unfamiliar with these; it might take you a long time. I have a copied register of all prefecture names—use it to help with sorting.”

Liu Jin handed him a booklet, organized by province, listing all the prefectures nationwide. With this at hand, the difficulty of categorizing the fifteen hundred records was greatly reduced.

“Thank you, Brother Liu. I am deeply grateful. But if Supervisor Peng wakes and sees me using this, he might take it out on you.”

Xue Rui thought for a moment, then closed the booklet and handed it back.

Liu Jin waved away his concern. “Don’t worry. Supervisor Peng won’t wake before lunch. Use it. If anyone dares report me, I won’t let them off easily!”

He fixed his gaze on a group in the corner.

From that group, a burly student with thick eyebrows retorted, “Liu Jin, Supervisor said anyone who helps him won’t get lunch. If you help him, don’t drag us down.”

“You don’t say, I don’t say—how will Supervisor Peng ever know? We’re all hereditary students; we ought to help each other. Fan Yan, if you don’t want to pass the annual exam, go ahead and report. If Supervisor wants to punish me, I’ll take it all,” Liu Jin said, arms crossed, utterly unconcerned.

The group’s bravado deflated. Fan Yan, the thick-browed student, dared not argue further and muttered, “Who are you looking down on? Even without your booklet, I could copy from someone else. Hmph.”

The others fell silent and went back to their own tasks.