Chapter 6.
They crossed the White Jade Arches, the sacred threshold marking the entrance to the Forbidden City. The setting sun reflected off the enormous carved jade doors, which depicted scenes of battles, gods, and dragons. He could not take his eyes off those masterpieces, the fruit of Yukio Matsuoka’s genius, the greatest artist of Eiyu.
He recalled what he had read in ancient manuscripts about Yukio’s life and work. How he had been chosen by the first Taiko, Hideyoshi, to decorate the gates of the city he had conquered from the Catayans, a barbaric and decadent people.
The man had devoted ten years of his life to carving the gates, working tirelessly and without distraction, until he managed to capture his vision of the world on them. He had traveled all over Eiyu, studying the traditions and techniques of each art school, and had fused all that knowledge into a unique and sublime synthesis.
“What do you think, Ritsu?” asked his master Otsuka, who was sitting beside him in the carriage.
“It’s... it’s incredible, master,” he stammered without taking his eyes off the arches. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“It’s understandable that you’re impressed. Not many have the privilege of seeing the White Jade Arches. You are very fortunate; you passed the imperial exams on your first try.”
His head bowed in a nod, though the gesture of modesty he attempted barely hid the knot of anxiety tightening in his throat. Those words, repeated ad nauseam, only wove a denser mesh around his anxiety.
How would the other students react to seeing him there, in that sanctuary of knowledge and power?
He wore his finest clothes, but even outside the Forbidden City, in the Inner Walls, his attire had already seemed like mere rags compared to the opulence surrounding him.
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It was surreal.
He, a low-ranking orphan, dared to claim a place alongside the bright offspring of nobility that filled those streets.
His mere presence felt like an affront.
“Are you worried about what the others will think of you?” he asked with a gentle smile, as if he had read his thoughts.
“Yes...” He was unable to hide his doubts in the presence of the master.
“It’s natural to feel fear, my young friend. Here, in the Forbidden City, the competition is fierce, and critical eyes are a burden that all must bear. Some may mock you, that’s true. But remember, you’ve reached this place through your own merit. Unlike many, you have proven your worth.”
He lowered his gaze, overwhelmed by the weight of his own insecurities.
What could he do in the Forbidden City, amongst noble bloodlines and generations of scholarship?
He had been naive to believe he could rise above his humble origins.
He wasn’t even from the Outer Walls, where life was already a constant struggle for survival. Worse still, he was a son of mud and sun, born among the cesspits of the countryside, far from the glow of jade halls and crystal lamps that now surrounded him.
“I shouldn’t be here. Not in a place so grand and splendid. I’m just a poor man.”
The elder squeezed his shoulder firmly, instilling surprising strength with his touch.
“Greatness is not measured by the opulence of one’s garments, nor by one’s background. Greatness is born of the heart and forged in determination. You have reached this place for a reason, and it’s because you have something to offer the world. Do not underestimate your own potential.”
He pulled away from the master’s hand and shook his head. They were beautiful words, indeed, but what did they mean in a world where the guards had treated him like trash upon his arrival? Could he really find a place among future “masters” who might share the same condescending attitude?
Distrust and despair threatened to drown his dreams before they had a chance to bloom.
“But master, didn’t you see how the guards looked at us when we arrived? They saw us as if we were scum, worse than mud on their boots. The greatness you mention seems unattainable in a place that receives us with scorn. How can I find courage in a world that has already judged me?”
“Other people’s eyes can be harsh judges, but the true judgment is in the mirror of your soul. It doesn’t matter how the others look at us; what matters is how we see ourselves and how we respond to those judgments. If you allow the looks of others to define your worth, you will have surrendered before even beginning.”