On the outskirts of the capital, at the Woolen Sheep Pavilion!
Several luxurious carriages were parked beside the pavilion. The chilly wind of the suburbs was biting, and the rolling hills in the distance were a light brown.
The sun hung lazily in the sky, offering a warmth that rivaled Naizi’s on the early winter day.
The Purple Yang Hermit of the Cloud Deer Academy was about to take office.
For the Cloud Deer Academy, which had been declining in official circles, this was a great joy.
The academy’s teachers celebrated with song, and the students were elated, feeling that their time to rise and shine was approaching.
In the pavilion, three elderly men sat drinking tea. One of them wore a purple robe with frost-white temples – he was the protagonist of this farewell gathering.
Yang Gong, courtesy name Ziqian, known as the Purple Yang Hermit, was the top scholar in the 14th year of the Yuanjing era. The following year, he retired and returned to the Cloud Deer Academy to teach. Over twenty-two years, his students spread across the land, and he became a renowned scholar throughout the realm.
He should have had an even better career, with a position in the imperial cabinet not out of reach. Yet, at the peak of his career, he left officialdom in obscurity. Regarding this matter, there were many rumors in scholarly circles. Some said he had offended His Majesty and was forced to retire.
Others said he had offended the current Chief Minister, lacking in political maneuvering, and had to slink away in defeat.
But regardless, after twenty-two years, he was finally re-entering the political arena. He was to be the Provincial Administration Commissioner of Qingzhou.
A true high-ranking official with authority over a region.
The other two men were equally distinguished. Not just in their status at the Cloud Deer Academy, but their reputation outside was no less than the Purple Yang Hermits.
The one wearing a gray robe with a goatee was called Li Mubai, a great chess master who was once hailed as the world’s best in the art of Go. Five years ago, he played three matches against Duke Wei Yuan, lost all three, angrily smashed the chessboard, and never played again.
The one in the blue robe was called Zhang Shen, a master of military strategy. His early work “Six Treatises on the Art of War” was still required reading for Da Feng dynasty military officers and commanders.
He was the only military strategist in Da Feng who could be mentioned in the same breath as Wei Yuan.
Outside the pavilion stood a group of students who had come to see off their teacher. They were all promising students of the Cloud Deer Academy.
Xu Xinnian was among them.
“Master Purple Yang is finally stepping out. If we can gain his recognition, our future careers in officialdom will surely prosper,” a familiar classmate whispered. “Ciju, have you prepared your poem?”
My brother prepared one for me… and it’s only half of a seven-character regulated verse… Xu Xinnian gazed at the pavilion and said lightly, “I’ve hastily prepared half a poem. Yongshu, you’re being too utilitarian.”
Seven-character-regulated verses have strict rules, requiring an even number of characters in each line, composed of eight lines with seven characters each, every two lines forming a couplet, for a total of four couplets.
Xu Qi An had only given him two couplets. When Xu Xinnian asked about it after dinner, his cousin had hemmed and hawed, changing the subject without providing the last two couplets.
“This isn’t about being utilitarian. The sea of learning is like the sea of officialdom – hard work is the boat, and scheming is the oar,” his friend said, seeming to know that Xu Xinnian wasn’t skilled in poetry, so he didn’t ask further.
“Yongshu is right. Nowadays, the atmosphere in officialdom is corrupt. Petty officials collude with corrupt officials to exploit the people. With years of natural disasters, if we want to change the situation, we need to be more resourceful,” another student chimed in.
The student called Yongshu nodded and looked at Xu Xinnian. “You always say poetry is a minor skill, but no matter how well you write essays, who will remember you decades later? Poetry, on the other hand, can be passed down through generations.”
Poetry is indeed a minor skill, unable to govern the country or benefit the people, just a pretentious pursuit… Xu Xinnian was about to say this, but considering he was now preparing to use this pretentious skill to please the elders, he swallowed his words and gave a vague grunt of agreement.
Yongshu looked at him in surprise. He didn’t argue back!
The chess master Li Mubai sighed. “Brother Yang, if you had half their cunning back then, you wouldn’t have wasted over twenty years.”
The Purple Yang Hermit smiled.
“That’s not right,” the military strategist Zhang Shen chuckled as he drank his tea. “Brother Yang was ambitious, paving the way for the ‘Establishing Fate’ realm.”
Hearing this, the Purple Yang Hermit sighed deeply. “In the end, I was still pushed out of officialdom.”
“This isn’t your fault. Those people from the Imperial Academy won’t stand by and watch our Cloud Deer Academy rise again.”
“Hmph, a bunch of sycophants who only know how to flatter superiors and bully subordinates, playing with power schemes. In less than two hundred years, they’ve brought the world to this sorry state.”
This matter involved an interesting piece of history.
Confucianism originated with the sage, and the Cloud Deer Academy, founded by the sage’s chief disciple, considered itself the orthodox Confucian school. This was indeed the case.
But two hundred years ago, due to a dispute over the imperial succession, they fell completely out of favor with the emperor of the time.
Coincidentally, the Cloud Deer Academy had a traitor at that time – at least, that’s how the academy viewed him.
That traitor was originally a teacher at the Cloud Deer Academy. Taking advantage of the situation, he established his school, using the principle of “preserving heavenly principles and eliminating human desires” to please the emperor. With the emperor’s support, he established the Imperial Academy and became a master of his generation.
Since then, the Imperial Academy replaced the Cloud Deer Academy as the main source of government officials.
The dispute over orthodox Confucianism has thus continued for two hundred years.
The Purple Yang Hermit said solemnly, “My journey this time is to expand the territory for the Cloud Deer Academy, to lay the foundation in officialdom. But to restore the academy’s former glory, I alone am not enough. We need to work together, and we need excellent young people.”
Li Mubai and Zhang Shen exchanged smiles. The latter turned his head and looked at the students outside the pavilion. “Is anyone willing to compose a poem to send off the Purple Yang Hermit?”
“Reciting poetry should have a prize, otherwise it’s no fun,” the Purple Yang Hermit said, taking off a purple jade pendant from his waist. “Whoever wins first place can have this jade pendant.”
The jade pendant gleamed with a mystical purple light.
The eyes of the students outside the pavilion lit up. A great scholar’s jade pendant, imbued with talent energy, had mysterious properties. If they could obtain it, it would be of great benefit.
At the same time, the Purple Yang Hermit using the purple jade as a prize had a deeper meaning.
An elder’s item is only given to juniors and students. In other words, by taking this jade pendant, you’re becoming one of his people… his student.
“This student is willing to compose a poem to send off Master Purple Yang,” a tall student wearing a blue scholar’s robe with a jade pendant at his waist stepped forward and bowed to the three great scholars in the pavilion.
Li Mubai smiled and said, “This is my student Zhu Tuizhi. He has quite a talent for poetry.”
The Purple Yang Hermit nodded with a smile.
After the student named Zhu Tuizhi recited his farewell poem, the Purple Yang Hermit’s smile deepened, clearly very satisfied.
“Not bad,” the military strategist Zhang Shen praised, without further comment. The other two scholars present were more talented in poetry than he was.
But a good beginning doesn’t always guarantee a good ending. The scene that followed could be described as an anticlimax.
The subsequent poems were mediocre, barely passing muster.
Li Mubai sighed, “Ever since the Imperial Academy re-annotated the sage’s classics, preserving heavenly principles and eliminating human desires, scholars across the land can only adhere rigidly to the classics, burying themselves in rhetoric. Over time, they’ve become trapped in a state of ‘constrained by words and phrases, intricate and tedious,’ unable to break free. Articles and poems no longer have spirit.”
Towards the end, he became deeply distressed.
This was also the reason for the recent decline of Confucianism. Two hundred years ago, Confucian sayings were like Buddhism is great, Taoism is awesome, oh, even the occultists are not bad. The unorthodox shamans and witches also have spirit, worthy of praise… Oh, uncouth warriors, please leave, this is a gathering of refined people. Take the” Misfit” from the monster races with you. As for the rest of you present, forgive my directness, you’re all garbage!
That’s how domineering Confucianism was back then.
And now?
Other cultivation systems: What’s the matter, little brother?
Confucianism trembling: F*ck it.
The Purple Yang Hermit sighed, “Enough, let’s not speak of this. Students, is there anyone else willing to compose a poem?”
For a while, no one responded.
Zhu Tuizhi stared at the purple jade, his gaze burning, feeling it was already in his pocket.
“Master, I have a poem,” Xu Xinnian stepped out from the crowd and came to the edge of the pavilion.
He had deliberately remained silent until now. He was modest and humble by nature, not wanting to present a good poem too early and embarrass his classmates. This had nothing to do with his previous exchange of flowery words with Zhu Tuizhi.