The capital city was a vibrant tapestry of colors and activity, with breakfast stalls scattered throughout the streets. Xu Qi An satisfied his hunger at a food stall two blocks away from the county office.
The stall owner was a thin, dark-skinned middle-aged man, wearing a grimy apron and greeting everyone with a humble smile. His culinary skills were commendable, and Xu Qi An enjoyed the meal thoroughly. The only drawback was the local preference for sweet flavors in the capital of Da Feng. While the soy milk was acceptable, even the tofu pudding was sweetened.
Unwilling to conform to this heretical custom, Xu Qi An instructed the vendor to omit the sugar and instead add soy sauce, lard, green onions, and minced garlic. Additionally, he ordered four deep-fried dough sticks, six meat buns, two steamed buns, a bowl of porridge, and three small side dishes.
After finishing his meal, Xu Qi An prepared to pay.
“Sir, there’s no need for that. It’s my good fortune to have you dine here,” the stall owner said, eyeing Xu Qi An’s constable uniform and adamantly refusing payment.
His gaze swept over the empty dishes Xu Qi An had left behind, a flicker of distress in his eyes.
“Are you sure?” Xu Qi An asked.
The stall owner swallowed hard. Xu Qi An’s breakfast was enough to feed four or five people. It was a small business barely making ends meet, requiring early mornings and late nights.
But he still didn’t dare to charge… he truly didn’t dare.
“No need, no need. How could I possibly take your money?” The stall owner’s demeanor clearly showed he had been hardened by life’s trials.
“Alright, I’ll sit here to digest for a while. You can go now, don’t disturb me,” Xu Qi An waved the stall owner away.
The vendor left, bowing and scraping.
“The Da Feng Dynasty’s system has long been plagued by corruption. Until the petty officials are dealt with, the common people’s lives won’t improve,” Xu Qi An thought, watching the busy figure of the stall owner and recalling his pained expression, unwilling yet unable to charge for the meal. He looked as pitiful as a beggar.
“Throughout history, it’s always been the flies invisible to the powerful that harm the common people the most.”
He pulled out ten copper coins from his pocket, stacked them on the table, and left silently.
“Finally, he’s gone…” the stall owner sighed with relief, dejectedly coming over to clear the dishes.
What rotten luck! He thought to himself, frustrated.
As he approached the table, the stall owner froze. A stack of copper coins lay on the table surface. Not only had the constable paid, but he had overpaid.
The vendor hurriedly ran out a few steps, only to see the occasional glimpse of the constable’s uniform already far away in the crowd.
He opened his mouth, but something seemed to catch in his throat.
In all these years, this was the first time he had encountered a petty official who paid for his meal.
…
After reporting for duty, Xu Qi An went to the back hall to request leave from County Magistrate Zhu, who readily agreed.
Hurrying back to the Xu residence, he pushed open Second Young Master’s door. The brothers exchanged knowing nods, and Xu Er’lang presented a set of pale moon-colored scholar’s robes adorned with light gray cloud patterns that he had prepared in advance.
Xu Qi An glanced at the sky-blue robe with dark cloud patterns his younger brother was wearing and suggested, “Er’lang’s outfit looks better, let’s switch.”
Xu Xinnian smirked, his expression seeming to say: Keep dreaming.
For a Refining Qi realm martial artist, a scholar’s robe didn’t quite fit. His muscular physique would stretch the loose-fitting garment.
Scholars’ aesthetics favored flowing sleeves and billowing robes.
The brothers left the Xu residence, spent three taels of silver to rent two yellow horses, and galloped out of the capital.
Their destination was Mount Qingyun, sixty li outside the capital, home to the world-renowned Yunlu Academy!
Mount Qingyun wasn’t originally called that; its original name had been forgotten. Since Yunlu Academy was established there, the sound of studying had never ceased, and clear qi coiled around the peak continuously.
Thus, it was renamed “Mount Qingyun” (Clear Cloud Mountain).
The brothers rode side by side on the official road. After an hour, Xu Qi An gazed into the distance, faintly making out the silhouette of Mount Qingyun and the tiny cluster of academy buildings.
“Cixiu, I’ve always been curious about something,” Xu Qi An said, slowing his horse. His cousin followed suit, both horses transitioning from a gallop to a trot.
“Do you think the Sage was at the First Rank?”
He was intensely curious about the various systems of this world but lacked channels to learn about them.
Xu Xinnian raised his chin proudly: “Do you think I would know?”
If you don’t know, just say so. Why such a haughty expression… Xu Qi An rolled his eyes and continued:
“Then do you know how long the Sage lived?”
Xu Xinnian nodded: “He lived to be 82 years old.”
The great Sage, founder of Confucianism, even if not at the First Rank, couldn’t have been far off, yet only lived to 82.
Well, for ordinary people of this era, that was considered longevity, but this world had extraordinary martial prowess.
Even the Sage couldn’t achieve immortality?
Hmm, I shouldn’t jump to conclusions. After all, I have too little information…
“Yunlu Academy doesn’t accept outsiders. It’s the rule, and even I can’t persuade the teachers to agree,” Xu Xinnian said.
“Are you sure about this, Big Brother?”
Xu Qi An shook his head: “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”
They had decided to send the women of their family to Yunlu Academy before taking action. This way, even if the Minister of Revenue sought revenge, Yunlu Academy could protect the Xu family’s womenfolk.
The tax silver case nearly got me killed, and now this mess won’t go away… Sigh, if not handled well, it could be another crisis threatening to wipe out the family… Xu Qi An spurred his horse, leaving Xu Xinnian behind in a cloud of dust.
Unwilling to be outdone, Xu Xinnian cracked his whip, engaging in a race with his cousin.
…
Mount Qingyun was neither majestic nor particularly beautiful. If not for the clear qi soaring into the sky, it would have been indistinguishable from any ordinary wild mountain.
The mountain housed an academy, pavilions, plazas, and waterfalls… Small paths paved with blue flagstones connected these places like a spider’s web.
In a pavilion by the cliff, on the second-floor gallery, the side facing the sheer cliff had no wall. Standing in the corridor, one could gaze out at the vast plains and the silhouettes of distant mountains.
Li Mubai, the grandmaster who had sworn never to play chess again, held a book in his hand as he stood by the railing, listening to the heated argument between his two friends behind him:
“I made a mistake with that move. I want to take it back. I insist.”
“Once a piece is placed, it cannot be withdrawn. Those are the rules.”
“The Sage said: ‘To know your faults and be able to change is the greatest virtue.'”
“Is that really what the Sage meant?”
“Isn’t it?”
“Old thief, do you want to debate the classics with me? Very well, only one of us will leave here alive today.”
“I’m not one to be trifled with either.”
Li Mubai shook his head, “Two terrible chess players.”
Behind him, one of the two was Zhang Shen, a great military strategist. The other was an old man in a black robe with a long beard reaching his chest.
Chen Tai, courtesy name Youping, was one of the Four Great Confucians of Yunlu Academy.
Each of the Four Great Confucians had their specialty. Li Mubai excelled in chess, Zhang Shen was proficient in military strategy, and Yang Gong (the Purple Yang Hermit who served as the Administration Commissioner of Qingzhou) specialized in scholarship.
As for Chen Youping, he had a talent for statecraft. His work “Treatise on Governance” was highly regarded in Da Feng’s official circles.
Li Mubai turned away from the railing and returned to the gallery, interrupting the quarreling pair:
“Where’s the Academy Master?”
“The Princess Royal has arrived. The Academy Master is accompanying her,” Zhang Shen replied offhandedly, his gaze fixed on the chessboard.
Li Mubai nodded with an “Oh.”
Chen Tai sighed, “The spring imperial examinations are just three months away, yet the academy students show little enthusiasm for studying. Last night, I made a round of the dormitories, and few were burning the midnight oil.”
“The few lamps that were lit were illuminating chessboards…” As he spoke, he swept his hand across the chessboard, scattering the pieces, and lamented, “Indulgence in trifles leads to the loss of ambition.”
“Shameless old thief!” Zhang Shen erupted in anger. Losing meant indulgence in trifles, but winning was a cause for boasting. “You’re just like Li Mubai, a sore loser.”
“What does this have to do with me?!” Li Mubai was irritated.
Touching on this topic, the three great Confucians fell into silence.
The students of Yunlu Academy faced a difficult path in officialdom. Even if they passed the provincial or metropolitan examinations, it was hard for them to advance in their careers. They were often assigned to poor, remote areas or left to gather dust in some forgotten corner.
This greatly dampened the students’ enthusiasm for the imperial examinations.
After a moment of silence in the gallery, Zhang Shen said solemnly, “This trend cannot continue. We must reignite the students’ passion for the examinations.”
Chen Tai nodded gravely: “Even if we have to struggle, we must persevere. Yunlu Academy cannot give up on the path to officialdom.”
Li Mubai pondered, “Let’s hold a lecture to encourage studying. Have the Academy Master speak.”
Zhang Shen toyed with a chess piece: “The Academy Master gives motivational speeches every year. The effect wanes with repetition; it won’t have much impact now.”
Chen Tai stroked his beard, frowning, “We need a novel approach to inspire the students to study diligently and take the spring examinations seriously.”
“How about writing an essay?” he proposed.
“That would be ineffective,” Li Mubai shook his head.
“Then our only option is poetry,” Zhang Shen took a sip of tea and said, “Since ancient times, poetry has moved hearts. Composing a soul-stirring poem would be far more effective than a lecture.”
As he finished speaking, the three great Confucians exchanged glances and shook their heads in unison.
In the Confucian circles of Da Feng, the art of poetry had long been in decline.