“It shall be done,” exclaimed the emperor. “We confer upon Lí the title of Doctor of the first degree, together with the purple robe and yellow girdle. Go bring him before us.”
With this mark of royal patronage, Ho retraced his steps with all the alacrity of a lover, and made known to Lí the gracious favors of the emperor, supposing, doubtless, that the student would rejoice as one long blind now suddenly restored to light, or as a famished man at a feast. But lo! coolly putting on the robes of office, as if he had but just cast them aside, with the air of a prince, Lí signified to the great academician Ho his readiness now to obey the mandate of the emperor.
Entering the hall of audience with all the grace and ease of a man bred in courts, Lí advanced to the throne, and after paying the customary homage, rose to his feet and looked proudly around upon the assembly of grave men and gallant courtiers.
The knees of the Premier Yang smote each other, as he recognized the youth he had treated with so much contumely now suddenly brought into notice—and well did Kau now remember the name of Lí—and it seemed as if hot pins tore his flesh, into such agitation did that name now throw him.
Hwant-sung received the new doctor with condescension, and placed in his hand the document which he was required to make plain.
But Lí, casting a meaning glance upon Yang and Kau, said:
“Can an indifferent scholar like myself presume to know more than these learned men! Know, O mighty emperor, thy servant was deemed unworthy of favor by thy commissioners Yang and Kau—surely, then, they must be more wise than Lí.”
Charmed with the boldness of the youth, the emperor graciously smiled upon him, and motioned the two mortified examiners to withdraw.
Then standing erect, his head thrown back, yet in an attitude of careless ease, Lí opened the important missive, and without even glancing his eye over it to understand more fully its nature, read it aloud from beginning to end, in a clear, melodious voice.
It proved to be a demand from the king of Po-Hai, couched in the most insulting language, requiring the emperor to restore a part of Corea, consisting of no less than a hundred and eighty towns, and also demanding tribute from the time of its “usurpation” (as the memorial expressed it) by the Emperor of the Tang Dynasty. Thus, but for the skill of Lí, the empire would have been plunged in irretrievable disgrace through the ignorance of its ministers.