Speaking of who could make the world’s most formidable group of young masters work like oxen, one must first introduce Daoist Master Sun Simiao. Without official position or rank, yet commanding tremendous respect among people. If one tried to pressure them using official authority, one would be tortured to death by a group of scoundrels—every one of their families could produce one or two people who could speak loudly in the court.

Now these pampered young masters each carried a bamboo basket on their backs, holding medicinal hoes, walking in line with difficulty along the mountain path. Sun Simiao walked at the rear, from time to time urging them to pick up the pace.

The tall Yuchi Big Fool was the tallest, so also the most conspicuous. The bamboo basket on his back was stuffed full, yet he seemed not to feel it at all, walking quickly at the very front. Huozhu struggled to keep up on his short legs, holding only a small medicinal hoe, swinging it from time to time as if practicing martial arts.

The line stretched quite long. Meng Youtong stumbled along in the middle, forcing himself to persevere and not fall behind. The three days of medical studies each month had given him a certain understanding of common medicine, and he could even prescribe simple remedies. Last time, curing his own cold had given him a floating feeling—he already styled himself a famous physician. What’s more, some people actually believed him. When someone had stomach trouble and sought treatment from the great physician Meng, if not for Old Sun discovering it early, that reckless fool would have already been brought to the brink of life and death from diarrhea.

After receiving a beating with the board, he obediently followed behind Old Sun to study. The academy students even laughed at him for being foolish, saying he only needed to sleep in the detention room for three days and would be fine, yet he specifically sought out a beating—such a glutton for punishment. Especially Duan Meng, Young Master Duan, who mocked him most vigorously.

Young Master Duan Meng had loved this place ever since coming to the academy—not because he loved studying, but because bullying people here carried no psychological burden. Everyone’s status and position were roughly similar, so bullying others wouldn’t result in accusations of taking advantage of power. Young Duan was most sensitive about this point. As a tough guy of Chang’an, he had always considered himself righteous and liked to stick his nose into unfair situations.

Last time, some scoundrels refused to pay their bill at a small tavern. Young Master Duan took action, breaking bones and tendons of several scoundrels. The small tavern was also wrecked beyond recognition. The young master had a chivalrous style—after beating people up, he grabbed a jar of wine from the counter, and while his spirits were high, tilted his head back and downed it, even telling the owner it was good wine before swaggering off. He only left the owner and his wife holding their heads and crying bitterly. Those scoundrels had only owed ten coins for a meal, while the jar of wine Old Duan drank cost three hundred coins, not to mention he’d smashed the shop to smithereens.

When he first arrived, his father had warned him to study obediently and not do messy things, or he would regret it. He had also heard of the reputation of several old masters and knew they weren’t to be trifled with, so he behaved for a few days. Then he discovered the academy wasn’t as strictly disciplined as imagined—it was actually somewhat lax. The ultimate punishment was just being locked in a dark room for a few days. What was that? As long as he didn’t get beaten with boards, what did being locked up for a few days matter? It wasn’t like his old man hadn’t locked him up before—just sleep through it, what was there to fear?

When the second son of the Liu family accidentally stepped on his foot while getting food, before an apology could be offered, a fist the size of a sandbag flew over, and then unconsciousness followed. Yun Ye diagnosed it as a concussion. Old Sun diagnosed it as a head ailment. Liu Xian determined the punishment: thirty strikes of the board or four days of detention.

The bold Duan Meng was completely convinced by the academy’s punishment and decided to accept the sentence. Forget thirty strikes of the board—he’d suffered plenty from that thing, especially since the executioner was an expert brought in from the Thousand Bull Guards. Better to sleep in the dark room for four days.

Yun Ye very kindly advised him to reconsider. Young Duan laughed loudly, saying a man’s word is his bond, he wouldn’t change his name when standing or sitting, and so forth.

Yun Ye was speechless toward such an idiot and sincerely hoped he could walk out of that room on his own.

Now, the one who smiled apologetically to everyone was Young Master Duan. In just four days, the dark room had trained this notorious wastrel into a sheep. When he came out, he couldn’t even speak, and walking a few steps on the ground would result in a fall. He was still in the recovery period.

Li Tai had always believed that the wise labored with their minds while the foolish labored with their strength. Now he had somewhat of Yun Ye’s style—if he could lie down, he would never sit; if he could solve something with his brain, he would never use physical strength. So he had a sedan chair and sat leisurely on it, taking one little nap after another to pass the time, occasionally urging the carriers to speed up, completely disregarding the hardship of those carrying the sedan chair below.

There were no power games at the academy—this was a red line. Once crossed, one would be expelled without mercy. There were also no monetary transactions. If discovered, one would also be expelled. Each person only had five hundred coins worth of meal tickets, from princes to accompanying students, without exception.

But the academy absolutely did not prohibit using intelligence and wisdom to make oneself live a bit better. The world never lacked fools—for example, the two carrying the sedan chair.

Li Tai said he could lift himself up and bet two hundred coins worth of meal tickets on it. Immediately some fool tried it. After experimenting countless times by pulling his own hair, he discovered it was absolutely impossible. Even the bull-strong Yuchi couldn’t do it. Yuchi got angry and was about to bet with Li Tai, but Huozhu found an excuse to pull him away.

Li Tai felt somewhat regretful, but there were so many fools. There were also clever ones with limited conditions—it had to be their own strength, others couldn’t touch Li Tai. After agreeing on the conditions, the bet began. Li Tai didn’t want their meal tickets; he only needed them to carry him back on the sedan chair after following Daoist Master Sun to gather medicine. He even specially selected four burly men to take turns. Under everyone’s watchful eyes, Li Tai hung a rope on a horizontal bar, tied one end around his waist, held the other end in his hand, and easily lifted himself up.

Yawning and stretching his waist, Li Tai turned his head to look at Huangshu, who had been following along the perimeter. This fellow had also gained a few pounds of flesh and wasn’t as wretched-looking as when they first met.

Now Liu Xian placed him on the outermost perimeter. If by chance there were wolves or tigers, Huangshu could still give everyone a warning so they could prepare. As for whether Huangshu would be carried off by wolves or tigers, that wasn’t within Teacher Liu Xian’s consideration.

Huangshu was now filled with fear of the academy—this fear had penetrated deep into his bones. Last time, he thought his tunnel digging was flawless. Who knew that while he laboriously dug underground, others easily conducted their studies above ground and used him as a living example for teaching. Exposed naked before a large crowd—at that moment, he even had thoughts of death. What kind of people were these? More than once, Huangshu looked up to the heavens in prayer, hoping heaven would show mercy and let him leave this terrifying place. That woman selling fermented rice wine appeared in his dreams more than once.

He didn’t dare escape. Even when Liu Xian let him go alone to Lan Mountain to find jade, even though he was alone, he didn’t dare have the slightest thought of fleeing. He always felt a pair of eyes watching him. He wanted to work hard to move these demons, hoping to obtain pardon. After wandering in the mountains for half a month, relying on years of experience, he finally found a sufficiently large piece of jade, which was now the teachers’ dining table.

He had now given up all thoughts of escape. The academy hadn’t mistreated him either. Just the day before yesterday, he actually received wages—a full string of coins. Although each of the teachers received six strings of coins while he only got one string, it made him wild with joy. He knew clearly he couldn’t compare with the teachers—any one of them could quote Confucius and recite poetry. They would all become officials in the future. What could he, a tomb robber, compare to them?

The accountant had a terrible attitude. The money was in a new hemp sack, tossed over without even counting, then told him to press his fingerprint. Heavens, in my life as Huangshu, I’ve pressed countless fingerprints, but never once for receiving money. Carefully pressing it, afraid of soiling the ledger, he then stood aside to watch how the teachers received their money. Each teacher brought a servant who shouldered the money. The teacher would casually pick up a writing brush and just casually draw a few strokes. The accountant would nod and bow to see the teacher out, but then turn around and harshly tell Huangshu to scram.

Huangshu walked along the roadside through the grass, practicing the way teachers wrote. He thought the way teachers wrote looked extremely good-looking. Then thinking of himself pressing his fingerprint made his face flush red.

That day, he heard the academy steward say he had a day off tomorrow. Huangshu didn’t understand what a day off was. He saw that when teachers had days off, they either drove ox carts with their families to tour Chang’an, or called up a few familiar companions to hire a small boat and drift on the East Sheep River for a day, during which they would recite poetry and paint. This was the way to live life! This was truly living! To be able to live one day like this, Huangshu felt even dying immediately would be worth it.

The three hundred strings of coins under the ghost willow no longer tugged at his heart like before. Instead, he constantly worried about that one string of coins buried in his academy room. Every day he would dig it out to count it, enjoy it, then carefully bury it again. Perhaps tomorrow on his day off, using that one string of coins to buy a hairpin for the woman at the Xinfeng market would be a good idea.

They reached the waterfall—a small stream of white water washed over the green rocks below, splashing up crystalline water droplets. The oppressive heat had long since wrung out the students’ last trace of patience. Seeing water, they swarmed down like bees. Some buried their heads in the water, some jumped in with a splash. Rolling around in the water, the refreshingly cool stream immediately drove away the stifling heat. No one gulped down raw water—this was a forbidden rule of the academy. If you didn’t want to be confined, it was best not to do so. Therefore, people from the academy never drank raw water. Every one of them soaked their water gourds in the stream to chill them. Yuchi lifted Huozhu and jumped under the waterfall in one leap. The water column as thick as a bucket smashed down on their heads, making both fellows scream and tumble down.

The two sedan carriers, upon seeing the stream, had long forgotten there was still someone on the sedan. Throwing it on the ground, they dove into the water. Li Tai, rubbing his waist, crawled out from the sedan chair with “ouch, ouch” sounds. He didn’t get angry. In two or three moves, he stripped down to just his underwear, and with one big bottom-plop jumped into the water, splashing up enormous waves.

Liu Xian stood on the highest rock, never loosening the bow and arrow in his hand for a moment. Other guards had also spread out the perimeter far away. Old Sun used pine branches to light a small fire. Beside him, a boy fetched a pot of clean water from upstream and set it over the fire. Before long, the water boiled. Pulling out a bamboo tube from his backpack, removing the stopper, Old Sun brought his nose close to it and took a deep breath, utterly intoxicated. He then pulled out three bamboo cups. Using tongs, he carefully pinched out some tea leaves and evenly distributed them among the three cups, instructing the boy to deliver one cup to Liu Xian and another to Huangshu, who was soaking his feet alone downstream.

Huangshu was overwhelmed with gratitude, holding the cup with tears streaming down. This was tea given by Immortal Sun, who regarded him as a person. Even the students didn’t get any—only Liu Xian and himself. He couldn’t care about the heat. Smelling it once, the fragrance assailed his nostrils—truly immortal tea. He drank the tea in one gulp, then pulled out the tea leaves inside, chewing them carefully, slowly savoring the taste.