Chapter 1.
“In the circles of the Eiyu court, castration has become an ancestral tradition dating back to time immemorial. Men who wish to reach the highest levels of court society and the imperial Hougong are willing to undergo this procedure, seen as a sign of devotion and extreme sacrifice for the well-being of the Golden City. It is believed that the removal of carnal desires and personal progeny allows these individuals to fully focus on state affairs, eliminating any temptation or conflict of interest that may arise from personal or family relationships.”
“The Jade Court”
Atlas of the Known World
Great Alim, Ahmed Aljinn
Ritsu bowed his body ceremonially, following each guideline of the courtesy protocol his mother had instilled in him from an early age. His gesture was an exhibition of perfection, bordering on exaggeration, a demonstration of respect so polished that it highlighted the importance of the moment.
It was a courtesy that went beyond formality, a display of conscious effort to present himself in the best possible light before his master.
The elderly Otsuka, patient and serene, waited at the entrance to his humble dwelling. The wrinkles crisscrossing his face softened at the sight of Ritsu approaching. Then, he welcomed him with a warm and sincere smile, inviting him inside with a kind gesture.
Before crossing the threshold, Ritsu uttered the words he had carefully meditated upon, words that had occupied his thoughts throughout the previous night.
“I have come to express my gratitude. You have been my guide not only in studies but in life itself. Your teachings have been a beacon on my path, and I am in debt to you.”
The old man let out a slight chuckle.
“Well, boy, such formality. Did you travel all this way just to flatter this old man?”
Ritsu stood up, allowing himself a small smile.
“I do not do this out of courtesy, master, but out of sincere gratitude. If I have achieved any success, it is thanks to your guidance and wisdom. I will never forget what I owe you.”
The elder nodded, with an expression of appreciation.
“Your words are as humble as they are welcome. But remember, Ritsu, your own effort and dedication are the key to your progress. A master can only point the way; it is up to the disciple to walk it with resolve.”
The elder walked into the house, and Ritsu followed closely, feeling the familiarity of the place that had witnessed countless study sessions and learning. It was a quiet and simple space, lost among the other wooden houses in the bustling Outer City.
Although the elder had served as an official at the imperial court, there was nothing in the house that revealed his past; just a modest retreat where he shared his knowledge with those willing to learn.
The simplicity of the place was a true representation of his master’s humility.
Soon, the elder sat on a worn tatami, and Ritsu did the same, taking a seat in front of a small wooden table at the center of the room.
“Now, tell me about your preparations for the imperial exams,” he said, his gaze loaded with interest. “Do you feel you are ready to face the challenge ahead?”
Ritsu lowered his gaze, immersed in his thoughts, as if seeking answers in the patterns of the worn tatami.
“I must admit, master, that despite all my preparation, nerves threaten to overwhelm me,” he confessed. “I know it is a unique opportunity, and I can’t help but feel some anxiety. What if I fail after so much effort?”
The elder smiled understandingly.
“Nerves are a natural part of any great challenge. The key is how you face them. Use them as a source of energy to stay alert and focused. Do not let them overwhelm you; instead, turn them into a driving force for your success.”
As he said that, the elder took a small bottle from underneath the table.
“I have sake,” he commented, beginning to pour it into small clay cups on the table. “You must be very tired from studying so much, and I know you are very young, but good sake the day before the exam can help lighten your fears.”
Ritsu nodded with gratitude, reaching out to take one of the cups. He was aware that his mother hated sake; she detested it deeply. Over the years, he never knew the exact reason behind that hatred, but he always suspected it was related to some dark memory from her past.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Sake dulls men’s senses,” she used to say. Under normal circumstances, he would have rebuked and slapped himself for even considering drinking it. However, at that moment, on the eve of one of the most crucial challenges of his life, anything that could alleviate tension and nerves was welcome.
Ritsu raised the cup and drank moderately, feeling the sweetness of the liquor go down his throat.
“Imperial exams are a challenge that tests not only your knowledge but also your ability to remain calm under pressure,” said the elder, taking a sip. “Each section of the exam represents a unique obstacle, designed to assess different aspects of your preparation.”
The small room was illuminated by a paper lamp that emitted a soft, golden light. The dim glow filled the space with a sense of calm and serenity, as if time itself had slowed down in that corner of the world. Ritsu, now more relaxed, began to express his concerns about the upcoming exams.
“I know, but... the exams are so rigorous and competitive. If I don’t get good results, my future, no... my family’s future! Could be in jeopardy.” Ritsu sighed and looked at his sake cup, thoughtful.
The elder shook his head.
“Think of the exams as sections of a complicated map. Each section represents an area of knowledge that you must explore and master. The key is to divide your attention into manageable sections. Doing so will lessen the overwhelming feeling and allow you to focus on one thing at a time.”
Ritsu nodded, finding comfort in the elder’s words.
“That makes sense, master. And I know I can’t let fear paralyze me. But what do I do if, during the exam, my nerves betray me?”
The elder took another sip of sake.
“As I told you before, nerves are like a wild horse, Ritsu. If you don’t control them, they will drag you along. But if you guide them calmly, you can ride them to victory. On the day of the exam, before you start, close your eyes and take a deep breath. Then, visualize a peaceful place, like the garden of a temple in full spring. Feel the calm and serenity of that place. This will help you focus and reduce anxiety.”
Ritsu listened carefully to old man Otsuka’s words, nodding with gratitude as he soaked in his wisdom. There was something about the way the master spoke that gave him comfort, as if he were guiding him through a dense forest to the light at the end of the path.
“You’re right,” he said, clenching his right fist. “I must learn to control my nerves and not let them dominate me.”
Old man Otsuka smiled.
“You are an exceptional student, Ritsu. If you keep persevering and applying what you’ve learned, I’m sure you will overcome any obstacle.”
After a brief silence, old man Otsuka changed the tone of the conversation.
“Now, let’s talk about your future. The time to decide is quickly approaching. Have you chosen whether you will lean towards civil service or military service?”
He pondered his master’s question. In Eiyu, one of the most significant traditions related to the imperial examinations was the choice of the supervisor to whom you would submit the exam once completed.
The two supervisors, one dressed in a red robe symbolizing military service and the other in a white robe representing civil service, would wait to receive the exams from the candidates. Although the content of the exam was identical for all those taking the test, the choice of the supervisor to whom you entrusted your work dictated the direction of your future in the empire.
It was, in many respects, a fork in the road of the candidates’ life path.
Opting for military service offered the promise of exciting adventures, discipline, and the chance to prove bravery, but it also entailed the risks and sacrifices inherent to the life of a soldier.
On the other hand, choosing civil service promised a more stable life with opportunities to contribute to the empire in a different way, but perhaps less thrilling.
“Master, I have been reflecting on it,” Ritsu replied sincerely. “My heart leans towards military service. I feel that is where I can contribute the best.”
Ritsu had found his intellectual refuge in military strategy books. Undoubtedly, they were his most faithful companions and the ones he enjoyed studying the most. In the yellowed pages of battle treaties and strategy, he found a world he could immerse himself in for hours without feeling tired.
The prospect of losing himself in a life devoted to the study of those strategic manuscripts didn’t seem unpleasant to him at all. In fact, it sounded like a path worth exploring.
Old man Otsuka nodded in approval, showing that he respected his choice.
“Military service is a noble vocation. You will face unimaginable challenges, but you will also have the opportunity to prove your worth and courage. If that is the path you have chosen, I am sure you will walk it with honor and determination.”
However, the old man, with a deeper and shadowed look, posed a crucial question.
“But... dear boy, the fight against Catay is not over yet, are you certain about that?”
The war with the wilds of Catay was a conflict that had left scars in the empire’s history, and tensions were still simmering. However, after the bloody battles at the Shu River two decades ago, the Catayans had retreated to the western mountains and valleys, taking refuge in their fortified cities.
They were not an immediate threat at that time, and he believed that things would continue in that direction. He had a deep confidence that both the empire and Catay had learned invaluable lessons from the war, and that his generation would not be destined to witness the horrors that had tormented their parents.
He had studied the accounts of the atrocities of that war thoroughly, and he was convinced that no one in their right mind would want to repeat them.
It was clear that stability would prevail and that peace would be a lasting reality in the land he loved.
“Master, we are in a time of calm. If I pass the exams, my days will be busy as a scholar, delving into the study of tactics from past battles, sharing the lessons from long-forgotten conflicts, and pointing out the mistakes of generals long dead. In my future, I see not steel, but ink. Not blood-filled battlefields, but parchment, incense, and lecture halls. There’s no cause for concern.”
The man let out a slight huff and stood up. He walked to the window; hands clasped behind his back. He gazed outside as if he could see beyond the cobblestone courtyard and slate rooftops, to horizons that Ritsu’s eyes had not yet reached.
“History is a capricious teacher,” he explained. “It teaches the same lessons over and over, but few learn them. Even in these times of so-called ‘eternal peace,’ pompously proclaimed by our Empress, the winds can change direction suddenly, and events can twist fate in unexpected ways, like a snake twisting to bite its own tail. Remember, times of war invariably return, sometimes in ways we cannot predict. That has always been the case, and so it will be.
He turned and placed a paternal hand on his shoulder.
“Whatever path you choose, my door will always be open. But do not forget, boy, that no era of peace lasts forever. The wheel turns, but the patterns remain, beyond our control.”