23. Zhang Erxing: Pure, Filial, and Naive

In a surge of excitement, Wen Tianxiang barely paused to think before declaring that he would simply head off to join Li Tingzhi. At that time, Li Tingzhi’s shogunate in Huai-dong was known as a "small imperial court." Whenever scholars of literary talent were demoted or cast out of the capital, they would flock to serve under his banner.

There were two reasons for this: first, Li Tingzhi was a fellow imperial examination graduate; second, the Huai-dong region was prosperous, benefiting from the lucrative salt trade. Li Tingzhi was more than happy to recruit such talent, building a shogunate of considerable scale.

This was also one of the reasons why Zhao Qi refused to let Jia Sidao leave the traveling capital. Huai-dong and the Liangzhe region were separated only by a great river, and Li Tingzhi commanded a naval force. If Li Tingzhi had ever wished to "purge the court of evil influences," he could have arrived from dawn to dusk.

Furthermore, with Li Tingzhi’s shogunate, it would have been entirely possible to establish a functional, fully staffed imperial court. Emperors and officials could be cast aside without a second thought. Sometimes, guarding against one’s own people requires more vigilance than guarding against outsiders.

Seeing Wen Tianxiang so happy, Zhang Xun naturally did not want to dampen his spirits. Still, some advice was necessary. At this critical moment in the siege of Xiangyang, Li Tingzhi was surely caught up in the chaos of war—how would he have the time to receive him?

"Better to wait until he has lifted the siege of Xiangyang before you go to Yangzhou to join him," Zhang Xun suggested. "For now, return home and pay your respects at your ancestral graves. There is no great hurry, is there?"

That made sense. At this very moment, Li Tingzhi might even be fighting on the outskirts of Xiangfan. How was a scholar like Wen Tianxiang, traveling with his family, supposed to find him? He might not find Li Tingzhi at all, only to be beheaded by a Mongol scout along the way.

It would be better to send his wife and children home first before making further plans.

"Time for sleep," Zhang Xun remarked. It was already eight-thirty in the evening. In 2024, some might just be getting home from work, but in this era, it was time to wash one's feet and head to bed—otherwise, how would one manage to rise at four or five in the morning?

The guest quarters had been prepared. Since the Wen family would only be resting in Changzhou for a few days while waiting for a government ship headed toward Xiangyang, they did not need anything overly elaborate.

As Wen Tianxiang cupped his hands to take his leave, he saw a servant bring in a charcoal brazier. A brazier in the heat of summer? Zhang Xun did not seem like a fool. Seeing Wen Tianxiang’s puzzled expression, Zhang Xun smiled, saying he had some small tasks to attend to and that Wen need not worry. This only made Wen Tianxiang more curious.

"Oh, go ahead and take a look if you wish."

A servant soon brought in a roll of paper—one hundred sheets. It was not ordinary Xuan paper, but a "soft paper" that Zhang Xun had specifically ordered to be made from a mixture of paper mulberry bark and raw silk.

This paper could certainly be used for writing, but its primary characteristic was its suppleness. By now, the purpose of this paper should be clear: it was for personal hygiene.

First, the paper was cut into squares. Then, a bowl of rosewater was brought over. Zhang Xun took a sip, held it in his mouth, and sprayed it evenly over the paper to soften it, before drying the moisture over the charcoal fire. This made the paper even softer and infused it with a faint floral scent.

The reason for all this trouble was that Zhang Xun had heard that his mother might be suffering from hemorrhoids. Using traditional bamboo toilet spatulas would be agonizing, and as many elderly people suffered from poor digestion and constipation, they often spent longer on the commode, which only exacerbated the condition.

Zhang Xun did not know how to cure it, but finding a way to provide some relief was not too difficult. Filial piety did not necessarily mean buying one's mother a hundred-thousand-yuan gold bracelet or an eighty-thousand-yuan handbag; doing what one could within one's means was also an act of filial duty.

Of course, Zhang Xun had a bit of selfish motivation as well: once he had prepared the soft paper for his mother, he could use the remainder himself.

Outsiders might say that Zhang Xun was being wasteful—how could something as precious as paper be used for such a purpose? But in a prestigious, wealthy family like the Zhangs, this was seen as the utmost devotion to one's mother—a level of care even greater than serving food by hand or checking on her day and night.

Though Zhang Xun said it was not worth mentioning to others, Wen Tianxiang watched, suddenly feeling that he was perhaps not such a perfect son himself. Look at Zhang Xun—he even considered such intimate details for his mother. It was truly pure, innocent filial piety.

Such a devoted son was surely worthy of being a descendant of the Grand Preceptor, Duke Wei Wenjing; a family of generations loyal to the throne, and a man of virtue and filial character.

Wen Tianxiang nodded repeatedly, deeply moved. He said nothing, simply watching quietly as Zhang Xun finished preparing the paper and ordered it delivered to his mother’s quarters.

"Your pure filial piety, Erlang, is something I cannot match," Wen Tianxiang said, bowing to Zhang Xun as he sat back down to rinse his mouth.

"It is a trivial matter, nothing worth noting," Zhang Xun replied, feeling that Wen Tianxiang was making a mountain out of a molehill.

"To see the great in the small—that is the way of a true gentleman."

"Haha, you should rest early, Director," Zhang Xun said. He still needed to bathe; in this rainy season, he felt sticky and uncomfortable, and he could no longer keep up with Wen Tianxiang’s conversation.

When Zhang Xun stood up to see him off, Wen Tianxiang saw in him a detached, humble demeanor that sought no praise. Such a capable official and devoted son was rare in this world.

Why had Zhang Xun’s older brother, Zhang Cheng, never recommended his younger brother for office? Wen Tianxiang, having served as a Director and drafter of imperial edicts, had been fully capable of recommending Zhang Xun for a post.

On second thought, Zhang Cheng was also a modest gentleman who never boasted. He treated others with sincerity and served his sovereign with loyalty—the brothers were truly a pair without equal in the world.

Zhang Xun then took the lead, carrying a lantern to light the way for Wen Tianxiang. Seeing such dedication in serving his brother’s friend, Wen Tianxiang felt that Zhang Xun was like a gentleman of the ancient ages.

In reality, Zhang Xun just wanted to get him to his room quickly so he could finally take his bath.

Oblivious to Wen Tianxiang’s thoughts, Zhang Xun rushed off to bathe the moment he returned. A while later, a maid arrived to deliver a chamber pot to Wen Tianxiang, who asked her if the young master had retired yet.

Of course not. Zhang Xun’s hair was wet, and without a hairdryer, he had to wait for it to air-dry. The maid replied that Zhang Xun was reading by candlelight and was likely still in the study.

He was certainly not reading. Zhang Xun was busy calculating the needs of the two-hundred-thousand-strong army passing through—the inevitable demand for carts, transport vessels, oxen, and horses.

The grain was already prepared—five thousand granaries of it. He had to ensure there were enough carts and boats to get the Mongol army moving quickly. Since the Mongol forces had come from Xiangyang, many of their own vessels must have been damaged. Zhang Xun needed to consult the boatmen who traveled to and from Xiangyang to understand the true "attrition rate."

He would then prepare a surplus, building transport ships to ensure that if the Mongol army made demands, he would not be caught short.