Since Cheng Jinzhou's grandfather was still serving in an official post elsewhere, the role of chief officiant fell to the clan elders. The ceremonial assistants and ritual guides were selected from two other branches, while the primary worshipper role of secondary officiant was assumed by Cheng Yunan, the prefectural governor.
The beaming smile on Madam Cheng's face and the envious expressions of others clearly indicated this was a position of considerable honor. Though there were clansmen present holding higher official ranks than Cheng Yunan, his status within the family made him the indisputable choice.
The ancestral hall stood amidst lush greenery that would have been picturesque were it not for the ancestral tablets solemnly arranged at its center. Cheng Jinzhou quietly followed the others through the various rituals, listening to the ceremonial music. Apart from those with specific ceremonial duties, most participants had little to do.
For a child, Cheng Jinzhou performed adequately enough. The entire morning passed in an endless cycle of chanted eulogies, processions, and prostrations.
Only during the recitation of the sacrificial text did Cheng Jinzhou get the chance to discreetly survey the visiting guests, providing some relief for his aching neck from all the bowing.
The most striking guests were undoubtedly the three astrologers. The elderly gentleman at their forefront wore a floor-length black robe with upturned toes on his theatrical-style cloth boots. His unadorned attire suited the solemn occasion perfectly.
The other two wore knee-length gray robes resembling modern dinner jackets, their figures completely concealed as they stood sideways to Cheng Jinzhou, their faces obscured. Yet their aloof expressions, ever-present nine-grid abacus pouches, and calculation kits clearly marked their profession.
Among the three, the elderly gentleman stood out most—not just for his simple yet elegant attire, but for the glimpse of a tattoo visible above his collar. While wealthy families might discreetly tattoo small astrological symbols in hidden places for convenience, true astrologers prioritized functionality over aesthetics in their markings.
Cheng Jinzhou briefly stuck out his tongue before turning his attention elsewhere. The astrologers' gifts would undoubtedly be claimed by the clan treasury, especially unfamiliar offerings unlikely to appear in the coming-of-age selection ceremony. What he truly desired was something that could be converted into substantial money.
As Marx observed, money represented social labor—and avoiding labor while making others work more was the most fundamental desire of this unaffiliated young man like Cheng Jinzhou.
To the left stood visiting officials—a few mid-to-high ranking ones from Hexi and some retired bureaucrats, but no local high officials. Among the twenty-seven civil service ranks, only the Chengs in Shaonan had reached the twelfth rank, who now stood at the center.
The right wing hosted visiting noble families and church representatives. Compared to the officials, these individuals possessed more prestige than actual power. Even the influential Western Church's impact in the Great Xia Dynasty extended only to astrologer training—their methods for mass-producing common astrologers having spread widely.
Among them, Cheng Jinzhou spotted the angry young noble from days prior, accompanied by what must have been his father. While the father displayed typical aristocratic decorum, his son scowled at everything around him with visible resentment.
"Early rebellious phase," Cheng Jinzhou mused inwardly, lamenting his own lack of precociousness.
After the final chant—"Carrying forward our heritage for eternal remembrance"—the ceremony concluded. With the clan's growing numbers, individual offerings had become branch offerings, speeding up proceedings.
"Rites concluded!" announced the master of ceremonies.
Cheng Jinzhou exhaled loudly, noticing similar sighs around him. Nearby, the noblewomen where his mother stood appeared equally exhausted.
Madam Cheng entered like a dragon palace matriarch, her magnificent attire drawing immediate greetings from all sides.
"Thank you all for honoring us with your presence," the Cheng matriarch said gracefully. "Our humble household has prepared refreshments for your respite." Having accompanied her husband to the capital in their prime—even receiving an audience with the empress and the title of Marchioness, more prestigious than her husband's "Great Xia Southern Commander" position—she was the envy of small-town Shaonan.
As servants guided guests away, the scene gradually quieted.
With only family remaining, the matriarch spoke slowly: "We must never forget our ancestors' blessings. Seeing so many descendants today gladdens my heart."
Her voice trembled slightly with emotion. "The ranks and honors we enjoy were earned by our forebears. Even now, your grandfather serves at the southwestern frontier, while Cheng Bingnuo of the Long Branch gave his life in service."
In this era of limited warfare, noble deaths were rare. Some below began weeping quietly.
After a discreet cough from the master of ceremonies, the matriarch continued: "Our thousand-year heritage must pass to the younger generation. Today, under our ancestors' auspices, may our coming-of-age youths remember their legacy. May your generation host even more distinguished guests. Jinzhou, you may proceed first."
The side passage opened, stirring excitement in Cheng Jinzhou. Even in this remote location, the Cheng family's aristocratic status meant casually presented items could be worth hundreds of taels—equivalent to tens of thousands in modern currency—always a welcome prospect.
As he prepared to kowtow in thanks, a measured voice interrupted: "Aunt, while the coming-of-age ceremony encourages scholarly achievement, and Jinzhou deserves first honors as direct descendant, we shouldn't discourage other children. He's not our only direct descendant."
Cheng Jinzhou turned to see Cheng Bingxun of the Long Branch—previously mentioned by the matriarch.
This Cheng Bingxun was quite the character. The Cheng clan comprised four branches—Qing, Yue, Yuan, and Long—sharing communal property while maintaining separate incomes and official posts. Living comfortably might have spoiled Cheng Bingxun, who developed aspirations for philanthropic fame.
As the primary heir receiving the largest land allotment, his poor management led to regular deficits. His philanthropy quickly became unsustainable.
Normally, one prodigal son wouldn't trouble a centuries-old clan. The real issue was Cheng Bingxun's unique approach to "balancing income and expenditure"—embezzling clan funds while continuing his so-called "prayers for Cheng prosperity."
Ironically, his actions brought the clan some repute, though his personal standing was foul enough that only his heir status prevented exile westward.
If forced to describe him, a hybrid of miserly iron rooster and scavenging hyena might suffice.
Clearly, the Long Branch heir had his eye on certain guest gifts—easy enough to identify from clan stores.
The matriarch's displeasure showed, as did the Long Branch members' shame over such petty squabbling. With elders absent, none could reprimand this heir.
Playing innocent, Cheng Bingxun continued: "This year, only Jinzhou represents the Qing Branch, while Yue and Yuan have two each in Shaonan, and Long has one. Might we test their scholarship, Aunt?"
His own son, fourteen-year-old Cheng Jinhao, was the Long Branch heir. The other two named quickly declined.
The seemingly kind Qing matriarch controlled the clan purse. Only someone like Cheng Bingxun—already cut off from clan funds—would dare offend her over gifts.
With a handsome sneer, Cheng Bingxun added: "Then let those willing participate be tested."
The matriarch watched silently.
Cheng Jinzhou's sickly reputation preceded him, and at twelve, his studies were unremarkable. In contrast, Cheng Jinhao—though fathered by the disreputable but talented Cheng Bingxun—had benefited from his father's leisurely tutoring, earning Cheng Bingxun the nickname "Prodigy's Father."
Normally, the matriarch wouldn't care about minor academic gaps, but now the Qing Branch's dignity was at stake.
Seeing no alternative, Cheng Jinzhou stepped forward: "Grandmother, this grandson proposes a mathematical contest with my cousin."
He emphasized "contest."
Mathematics—arithmetic and geometry—had been his recent focus. For fourteen-year-old Cheng Jinhao, this meant elementary school level at best—advanced topics being astrologer territory, while Cheng Jinhao pursued civil examinations.
Pitting a literature prodigy against a half-baked physics doctorate in mathematics? Cheng Jinzhou saw no possibility of defeat—especially with someone trying to take what was his. He could afford to be ruthless.
All eyes—including the angry young noble's—burned into Cheng Jinzhou from the assembled family and close relatives.