Chapter 15: Earning His Way In

Sima Kang, a relative of Sima Guang, was barely considered a decent man among the privileged sons of officials in the capital, yet he was the only one admired for his sincerity and warm-heartedness. Whenever someone was in trouble, they would surely turn to him for help.

He bore a grudge against Li Changan—more precisely, against both Li Changan and Su Shi. Years ago, the two had established the “Bianjing Wind and Cloud Ranking,” also known as the “Genius List,” which recklessly praised or condemned individuals, evaluating talents. On that list, he was labeled as the lowest of the low—a talent fit only to stay home and care for his parents.

Yet when he heard that Li Changan had been arrested, he was the first to rush to the palace, passing messages to his own father and aiding in the rescue of his old rival. Li Changan, realizing how quickly he had been freed thanks to Sima Kang, felt embarrassed for at least three seconds. After all, it was Su Shi who had insulted him publicly; Sima Kang had only offered a suggestion, hardly making him a villain.

Taking this opportunity to clear up misunderstandings seemed wise. After all, Sima Kang was the son of the Censor-in-Chief of the Imperial Court, akin to a noble scion in later times—a figure of considerable stature. Invitations were sent, gifts prepared, and Qian Weiming was specially called upon to accompany.

On the appointed day, they met at the Huixian Pavilion by the canal. Situated on the left bank of the Bian River, facing southeast, the pavilion stood nine zhang tall. At sunrise, one could ascend and gaze out, feeling as though ascending to the heavens. Travelers and officials passing through the capital often gathered here to unwind and refresh.

When the time came, Li Changan was informed by Guang Xiaotong that the guest had arrived, and he instructed the waiters to begin preparing dishes. Upon meeting, there was some awkwardness between the two, thankfully eased by Qian Weiming’s mediation.

“Changan, you’re twenty-one now, right? Why haven’t you taken a courtesy name yet? Every time you speak, it feels awkward,” Sima Kang tried to find a topic as they sat down to chat.

“Gongxiu, my father passed away when I was eleven. At that time, I took ‘Changan’ as my courtesy name. So, for all these years, you’ve been calling me by my courtesy name without knowing it,” Li Changan replied slyly. Since their private interactions were limited, this was enough to brush past the awkwardness.

In fact, Su Shi had once casually given him a courtesy name: Chang Geng. Li Changan thought about it and responded, “Isn’t that even longer? My face is square-shaped, truly a ‘national character’ face. How could it be longer than Su Shi’s kidney-shaped face?” So he declined.

Sima Kang, being straightforward, stood up and cupped his fists, “I spoke out of turn. I wasn’t aware of this connection!”

“Don’t be so formal. I’m no Confucian scholar; whether I have a courtesy name or not makes little difference. By the way, you risked much to save me this time—please accept my brotherly thanks!” Li Changan said.

Before Sima Kang could rise to respond, Li Changan was already standing. “A small token, please accept it with a smile!” He revealed a painting from behind his back and handed it to Sima Kang.

Among literati, gifting elegant items was a customary and respectable form of interaction.

Sima Kang accepted without hesitation, unwrapping the silk to admire the painting—a sign of respect to the giver. It was not a famous masterpiece, but a Tang Dynasty work by Li Qinfang titled “Emperor Taizong Receiving Counsel.”

Sima Guang was the Censor-in-Chief, and in the previous dynasty an Imperial Adviser. Presenting such a painting was a nod to his lineage, likening Sima Guang to Wei Zheng, regarded as a compliment to him.

“Excellent! Such a rare piece—I gratefully accept it!” he declared.

All took their seats as waiters began pouring wine and serving dishes.

After some time, Qian Weiming initiated conversation, “Gongxiu, what post did the court assign you as a hereditary official? I don’t recall you mentioning it.”

Sima Kang paused mid-bite, hesitated, and awkwardly smiled. “Hereditary officialship is an honor, but it can’t compare to calling out names at the East Hua Gate. I plan to participate in next year’s grand examination, aiming for the second tier.”

“Well said! With such ambition, I toast to your great resolve!” Qian Weiming exclaimed.

Before the moment turned awkward, Li Changan took the lead, finishing his cup and promptly refilling it. “With the Sima family’s scholarly heritage, second-tier success is surely within reach. When Su Shi returns, I’ll have him come to apologize!”

“No, no, Scholar Su’s appraisal was fair, and my father agreed,” Sima Kang demurred.

After several polite exchanges, the atmosphere lightened again.

As they ate, Li Changan feigned drunkenness and began sighing heavily, wearing a troubled expression.

Sima Kang caught the hint and asked, “Brother Changan, do you face some difficulty? If there is anything I can assist with, I will not refuse.”

Qian Weiming quickly intervened, “No, no, Gongxiu is preparing for exams. He must not be burdened with such heavy matters. Changan, don’t mention it again. Eat, drink!”

Sima Kang insisted that Li Changan speak, while Qian Weiming persistently blocked him.

Li Changan stood, holding his cup, “Gongxiu, there is indeed a great matter I wish to entrust to a loyal man. I cannot trust others.”

The game was nearly over; the truth would soon be revealed.

“Speak freely. If it is within my power, I shall do it!” Sima Kang declared passionately.

Li Changan spoke frankly, “No wonder both you and your father were eventually driven out—such cunning schemes indeed trap anyone caught in them. Fortunately, I am a man of principle and will not push you into the fire.”

“Now, there is a grand undertaking that requires a man of integrity. I intend to establish in Bianjing a guild to represent all servants and workers, to speak for the poor, to safeguard their interests, and to realize Confucius’s ideal of equality among all.”

A flicker of clarity sparked in Sima Kang’s confused eyes before fading again.

“If this is such a great cause, I will follow your command, brother. But the intricacies may be beyond the reach of one not yet fully grown.”

“Please, explain the complexities in detail.”

Both were old foxes of a millennium, honest and straightforward in nature; Sima Kang had no hope of being adopted by a high-ranking uncle.

“Actually, it’s like this…” Li Changan began.

A few days ago, he had witnessed the results of the “God-Making Plan.” In this ignorant age, he truly possessed the power to rally a hundred at a call.

But his influence had surfaced too soon, and he suspected the court and Bianjing’s powerful elites had already taken notice.

To protect this strength and avoid suspicion of manipulating public opinion, he had to find someone else to take the heat.

After much thought, the son of the Censor-in-Chief was the perfect candidate.

First, he held no official post, had ample time, and his identity would be accepted by commoners; second, his prestigious family background would shield him from retaliation.

He aimed to organize the first workers’ guild in the Song Dynasty, creating a “human shield” for himself.

Instead of charging ahead alone, he would unite others to form a force capable of shaking heaven and earth.

With forty or fifty thousand poor souls under his banner, connected to over a hundred thousand people in Bianjing, the court would be forced to listen, unable to strike carelessly.

“The guild’s venue has already been sponsored—at the Chunhua Teahouse in the city. At inception, we will fight for three core rights for our members:

“First, four paid rest days per month, ensuring everyone has time to rest and regulate themselves;

“Second, masters may not arbitrarily beat, scold, or punish servants, preserving basic human dignity;

“Third, in disputes between members and their masters, the guild will mediate or assist members in legal matters!

“Gongxiu, can I trust your loyalty and character to uphold this cause among the tens of thousands of servants, retainers, day laborers, and workers in Bianjing?”

Sima Kang appeared drunk and dazed, but inside, a storm raged.

His father was right—this Li Changan was no ordinary man.

To manipulate public opinion and organize the populace right under the emperor’s nose, and to contrive such an unassailable justification—truly a genius.

If it were just these three rights, he wouldn’t likely make enemies of the powerful and wealthy.

One day of rest every ten days in the capital, just one more day.

No arbitrary beatings or scoldings—such servants were few; with a bad reputation, no one would hire them.

And third, helping the poor resolve disputes was naturally a great way to build reputation.

So why wouldn’t Li Changan do this himself?

Why did he want to spare himself from this task?