No matter how Yun Ye tried to prevent it, the academy still had an incident. Since ancient times, commoners don’t contend with officials, the poor don’t fight the rich. Yet several hotheads from the academy still walked this path. With Ma Zhou as the writer, several people submitted a ten-thousand-character memorial without the academy’s support.

The essay enumerated the reasons for the collapse and destruction of successive dynasties throughout history. After eliminating other reasons and finding the most fundamental cause, it was the unequal distribution of land. The imperial family, along with noble houses and wealthy landlords, occupied ninety percent of the land with only ten percent of the population. They believed that the unrestricted annexation of land by great houses and wealthy households was the fundamental reason leading to dynastic collapse.

The Great Tang now had much land and few people—there was still time to remedy this. If they waited fifty years until the population multiplied and land couldn’t be adequately distributed, it would be too late to act. They suggested that now the imperial family couldn’t endlessly grant land fiefs to the imperial clan, and land grants to nobles must also be limited. Most importantly, all land needed to be taxed. The more impoverished people couldn’t bear heavier taxes—this was unfair. Wealthy families should rightfully bear more responsibility.

The essay also strongly criticized the unfairness of corvée labor, condemning Li Er’s self-proclaimed proud “rent-yong-tiao” system as utterly worthless.

Criticizing Li Er was one thing—he prided himself on being an enlightened ruler and had always been quite open toward public opinion. But they shouldn’t have, absolutely shouldn’t have, added one sentence at the end of the essay: “When granaries are full, rats and sparrows rejoice.”

Now they’d poked a hornet’s nest! This was saying there were no good people in Hongtong County! Anyone who was an official was a rat or sparrow in reserve, all red-eyed waiting for the prosperous age to arrive, preparing to make a huge haul.

Dozens of people sat in front of the Imperial City gates, all wearing sky-blue robes in scholar attire, repeatedly reciting their self-written “Essay on Land Tax,” faces solemn, expressions grave.

Throughout all dynasties, such a thing had never happened before—scholars, who were the backbone pillars of the court, speaking out so intensely and freely.

As Prime Minister, Fang Xuanling submitted a memorial pleading guilty and holed up at home waiting for the Emperor’s judgment. The Five Wards Military Commission didn’t know how to handle the current situation and could only surround the scholars, separating them from the growing crowd of Chang’an citizens.

“Punishment doesn’t reach scholars” didn’t seem to apply to the current situation, but looking at where the previous batch went, they seemed to have already become reserve officials.

The great gates of the Imperial City opened wide. Ma Zhou had already reached the city gate. Facing swords, spears, and halberds without fear, he handed the ten-thousand-character memorial he’d already distributed to the guards, asking them to present it to the Emperor. Then he returned to sit among the scholars, loudly reciting: “Confucius spoke of benevolence, Mencius spoke of righteousness.”

When Yun Ye received this news, he was playing with his child. Hearing about Ma Zhou and their actions, he swayed twice and nearly fell. Today was Sunday, a day for free student activities. Dozens of people going to Chang’an together was perfectly normal—who would have thought they’d actually go petition?

From the student movements Yun Ye knew of through history, none had good results. Even in the Song Dynasty when literary culture flourished most, student leader Chen Dong didn’t get the results he wanted, let alone the later “Memorial by Imperial Examination Candidates.”

Rulers wouldn’t accept such coercive opinions. Just as he was about to set off for Chang’an, worse news came—this time the academy’s commoner students, hearing the news, flooded toward Vermillion Bird Gate from all directions, sitting together there. The number reached two hundred people.

Spurring his horse faster and faster, he had to get there before Li Er issued his decree and bring all the students back. Otherwise, it would be a catastrophic disaster for the academy.

At the city gate, he encountered the equally disheveled Xu Jingzong. Before Yun Ye could ask, Xu Jingzong loudly said: “Master Li and the others have already gone in.”

Hearing this, Yun Ye’s heart eased by more than half. As long as Li Gang could arrive, there was always room for negotiation.

Who would have thought Xu Jingzong’s next sentence would throw him completely into the eighteenth level of hell: “Master Li, Yushan, Yuanzhang, Lishi, Zhao Yanling, Jinzhu and other masters have also joined the sit-in.”

Yun Ye felt the world spinning. These upright masters—did they really think reason could take them anywhere in the world?

Old Zhuang jumped off his horse and quickly supported the tottering Yun Ye. Xu Jingzong also rushed over. The two men carried Yun Ye to the city wall base and pinched his philtrum.

After a moment, Yun Ye recovered and jumped back on his horse, completely ignoring the city gate official’s curses, galloping toward the Imperial City in a cloud of dust.

The Imperial City was already a sea of people. Chang’an people’s habit of watching excitement had never changed. They blocked the road completely. They didn’t understand what those proud scholars wanted to do, didn’t know these scholars were fighting for their rights. They only knew there was excitement to watch. Some shrewd people even balanced baskets on their heads, loudly hawking various dried fruits—essential provisions for watching excitement.

His heart’s grief and indignation reached the extreme. Ma Zhou had premeditated this. He’d clearly calculated all sides’ reactions, including his own mentors’. If the matter didn’t get big, the masters might scold them a few times. If the matter got big, the masters would absolutely stand up for them and help them through the crisis.

“Life’s troubles begin with literacy”—these words were so right. The more knowledge, the more reactionary—this also seemed reasonable. They’d learned from the academy how to calculate, how to use the power in their hands. After careful arrangement by their minds, they’d finally formed the current uncontrollable situation.

They had no fear of death whatsoever. As long as their names remained in history, why fear axes and blades?

They had a clear understanding of themselves, knowing the court had treated their class poorly, so they wanted to fight for their deserved share of power. They just didn’t understand that all rights belonged to the Emperor—only what he gave was yours. You had no right to demand from him.

Li Gang, white-haired, sat at the very front, hands resting on his knees, expressionless. The other two old masters also sat beside him, lips pressed together, silent. Zhao Yanling even took out his beloved teapot, simulating the pouring motion there, how to pour a cup of tea with the most elegant posture.

Lishi was painting. Jinzhu was playing the flute. Even Sun Simiao, who usually ignored worldly affairs, held a brush writing something on white paper. Old Gongshu lowered his head fiddling with his architectural model. The remaining masters all pulled out scrolls of books from their chests to read. Behind them, students kept joining, whether wealthy or commoner students, all finding a place to sit down, looking at the Imperial City.

Xu Jingzong heaved a long sigh, found a secluded corner and sat down. The situation was already out of control. As academic supervisor, he couldn’t escape. Joining in was the wise choice. His face seemed to show a rare firmness.

Two years at the academy were the happiest experience of his life. Everything he’d dreamed of was obtained—respect, affection, wealth, official position—nothing was lacking. The students’ respect and affection came from their hearts. He most liked walking through the academy with hands behind his back. Every student who met him would respectfully call him “Master” before going about their business.

His home was at the academy, yet he never ate at home, nor did he eat at the masters’ small kitchen. Not because he begrudged the money—since giving money to Yun Ye to manage, the profits earned were enough for his lifetime. He liked watching students line up to buy food. Whenever he appeared, the students at the front would immediately offer him their place. He always smiled and refused, conscientiously lining up at the back.

While asking students their opinions about the dining hall, he loudly stopped the cooks’ various unclean, unsanitary actions, always drawing students’ cheers. Only then would he very elegantly carry his food to the masters’ table to dine.

The academy was his stage. If possible, he wanted to perform on this stage for life.

Yun Ye despaired. Xu Jingzong’s choice was reasonable. At this point, wanting to bring all the students back was already impossible. As one of them, he could only join in and wait for Li Er’s judgment. He could now imagine how Li Er in Taiji Palace was flying into a rage.

No matter how angry Li Er got, his own life was definitely not in danger—this much could still be guaranteed. If this sit-in hadn’t occurred on the eve of a great war, Yun Ye wouldn’t be so desperate. He’d only need to push responsibility onto Li Er, the principal. He might get beaten, but compared to the current impossible situation, it would be a thousand times better.

Passing everyone, Yun Ye sat at the very front. Master Li Gang was too old and couldn’t withstand turmoil. Xu Jingzong’s seniority wasn’t enough to become a scapegoat. If Old Xu had entered the academy earlier, Yun Ye would definitely push him out without hesitation to block arrows, whether he was willing or not.

Master Li Gang looked at Yun Ye with remorse and said: “Why wade into these muddy waters? Before I came, I didn’t notify you precisely because I didn’t want to drag you in. The students were all taught by this old man—for better or worse, let this old man bear it.”

Yun Ye smiled bitterly and said: “The arrow is on the bowstring and must be released. The students’ one phrase ‘when granaries are full, rats and sparrows rejoice’ completely offended all the officials. They can’t bear this crime. Xu Jingzong isn’t qualified. You’re already over seventy and should long ago be playing with grandchildren, enjoying your twilight years. It was this youngster who stubbornly kept you at the academy. Let me carry these matters. I also want to see how much weight the academy carries at court.”

Lishi raised his head and said to Yun Ye: “Boy, remember—when things become impossible, push the blame onto us few. If you’re fine, the academy will be fine. Remember, don’t try to be a hero.”

Yushan and Yuanzhang also nodded, saying: “The students said nothing wrong, did nothing wrong. This Great Tang belongs to the Li family and also to the common people of the world. That they can have such insights makes this old man extremely gratified. As for what comes after death, who cares about that?”

Yun Ye hadn’t sat long when Li Tai and Li Ke also came out from the Imperial City and sat in front of Yun Ye.

“Have your heads been kicked by donkeys? The academy is putting pressure on His Majesty. You don’t help your own father but join in the excitement—do you think things aren’t big enough?”

“Your brain is what’s been kicked by a donkey! I read the ten-thousand-character memorial. What it says is correct, very reasonable. If my family’s relatives divided up all the land, wouldn’t the common people all starve to death? Besides, this isn’t rebellion. My masters and fellow students are all here—how can I stay at the academy if I don’t come? Right now I’m a subject, not an imperial prince. How about that—loyal enough, right?”

Li Tai asked Yun Ye smugly.

Yun Ye suddenly realized—these were two shields dropped from heaven. Not using them would really let down Li Tai’s arrogant manner.