Chapter 37

Jingzhao City was bustling with activity as the day began. Stalls were set up along the busy streets and Xu Qian found warm food in one that was two streets away from the Changle County Courts.

The vendor was a dark-skinned, thin, middle-aged man. He wore a black apron and smiled courteously at every customer.

His cooking satisfied Xu Qian. The only gripe Xu Qian had was the locals’ preference for sugar. Sweetened soybean was one thing, but even their soft bean curd was cooked with sugar.

Nevertheless, Xu Qian was an understanding man. After all, he was in a foreign land. He got the man to hold the sugar and added soy sauce, lard, onion flakes, and minced garlic to his bowl.

He also bought four breadsticks, six meat buns, two steamed buns, a bowl of porridge, and three side dishes.

When he was done, he asked for the bill.

“Sir, it is my honor to have you visit my stall. I won’t take your payment.” The vendor had noted the official uniform Xu Qian was wearing.

He glanced at the number of empty dishes on Xu Qian’s table and felt his heart ache.

“Are you sure?”

The vendor gulped—the food Xu Qian ate was at least a four-person portion. He operated a small business in the city and did not want trouble. Hence, he insisted on covering the official’s food bill.

‘I won’t take his money. I won’t…’

“It’s fine. Keep your money. It’s on the house.” The vendor had obviously gone through a similar experience in the past.

“Okay. Let me sit here and digest for a moment. Don’t bother me.” Xu Qian waved away the vendor.

The vendor scurried away obediently.

‘The Dafeng Dynasty lasted centuries. If corruption isn’t weeded out from the government, the people’s lives will never improve.’ Xu Qian watched the vendor busy himself with the stall’s operation and thought of the pitiful look in his eyes.

‘Even since the ancient times, the common folk’s hardships are never taken into account by the people at the top.’

Xu Qian took out ten copper coins and placed them on the table before leaving.

Once he was gone, the vendor came to clear the dishes.

‘What an unlucky day!’

However, the vendor was shocked to find a stack of copper coins at the table. Not only did the constable pay for the food, he even gave extra.

The vendor rushed into the streets but the man in uniform had disappeared into the crowd.

He gasped in confusion as his throat went dry.

In all these years, he had never encountered a low-level official who paid for his meals.

…

When the morning roll call was complete, Xu Qian went to Magistrate Zhu to ask for a leave of absence. The county magistrate readily agreed.

Xu Qian returned to the Xu manor and entered Xu Xinnian’s chamber. The two brothers nodded knowingly at each other. Xu Xinnian had prepared an ivory Confucian robe with gray cloud prints.

Xu Qian noticed the green robe Xu Xinnian was wearing and asked, “Yours looks much better. Let’s switch.”

Xu Xinnian chuckled coldly. ‘You wish.’

The scholar’s robe looked odd on the martial artist. His muscles made parts of the robe bulge awkwardly.

A scholar was meant to look graceful with billowing sleeves.

The two brothers left the Xu manor and spent three silver taels on two horses. Together, they rode out of Jingzhao City.

Their destination took them 60 miles out of the city, up Mount Qingyun where the famous White Deer Academy was located.

The mountain had another name but it was long since forgotten. Ever since the White Deer Academy was built, a chorus of cultures and worldly ideas filled the area.

Thus, the mountain was named Mount Qingyun[1].

They rode their horses hard and two hours later, the mountain appeared beyond the horizon. Xu Qian squinted and saw the distant silhouette of the academy building.

“Cijiu, I’m curious.” Xu Qian had to raise his voice to be heard.

He slowed his horse and waited for his cousin to do the same. Their horses went from a gallop to a canter.

“Do you think The Great Sage achieved first rank?”

The disciplines and paths of this world fascinated him but he could never get a hold of a complete guide.

Xu Xinnian lifted his chin and said, “You think I can answer that?”

‘Just say you can’t then. Quit it with the snobbish looks.’ Xu Qian rolled his eyes and asked, “Do you know how long he lived?”

He nodded. “Eighty-two good years.”

The Great Sage who founded Confucianism—first rank or not—only lived till 82?

82 years was considered a long life for the ancient period but this world had magical properties.

Even a sage could not escape mortality.

‘Okay, I shouldn’t generalize. There are still many things I don’t know about.’

“The White Deer Academy doesn’t allow visitors. It’s a rule even my mentor can’t disobey. Are you sure about this?” Xu Xinnian asked.

Xu Qian shook his head. “It’s all a matter of effort.”

They have decided to send the women of their family to the White Deer Academy before they rolled out any plans. That way, if a tragedy befalls them, the academy would shield them from the Zhou family’s wrath.

‘The missing tax money case nearly put me in a casket. If this plan falls through, it’ll be the end of our family bloodline.’ Xu Qian spurred his horse into a gallop, leaving Xu Xinnian behind in a trail of dust.

Unwilling to lag behind, Xu Xinnian flicked the whip and raced his cousin.

…

Mount Qingyun was not a particularly majestic mountain. If not for the White Deer Academy, it would just be an ordinary mountain in a sea of mountains.

There were courtyards, lofts, plazas, and waterfalls. The stone steps ran through the mountain to connect each part of the academy.

In one of the lofts, one side of the walls was not erected for the second floor. From the corridors, one could see the rolling plains and the mountain ranges.

The great chess player who had sworn off chess—Li Mubai—stood in the corridor with a scroll in hand. Behind him, two friends were in a heated debate.

“I mistakenly moved this. I want a redo.”

“What’s done is done.”

“The sage once said a mistake rectified is the greatest deed.”

“Did the sage mean a chess move?”

“Does it not apply?”

“Scoundrel! You wish to debate the words of the scriptures with me? Fine, only one of us will leave here alive.”

“Bring it on!”

Li Mubai shook his head. “Blundering fools!”

The two men behind him were the military strategist, Zhang Zhen, and another black-robed elder with a long beard that grazed his chest.

He was one of the White Deer Academy’s Four Great Confucian Elders, Chen Tai—courtesy name, Youping.

Each elder had their own specialty: Li Mubai was a chess master, Zhang Zhen was an expert in military stratagems, Yang Gong—who had left for Qingzhou—was focused on scholarly research, while Chen Tai specialized in governance.

The Art of Governance, written by Chen Tai, was a highly-coveted book among the courts of Dafeng.

Li Mubai abandoned the scenery and went inside. He interrupted the ongoing argument by saying, “Where’s the headmaster?”

“The crown princess is here. He’s entertaining her,” Zhang Zhen said absentmindedly as he stared at the chessboard.

“Oh.” Li Mubai nodded.

Chen Tai said, “Three months until the spring imperial provincial exam, yet our students are losing motivation. Yesterday, while making the rounds, I barely saw any candlelight in the dormitories.”

“The few candlelights I saw were illuminating chess boards. These trifling games ruin ambitions.” As Chen Tai spoke, he swiped at the chessboard before him.

“You shameless old man! A sore loser like Li Mubai!” Zhang Zhen was furious. ‘A trifling game when you’re losing, an honorable test of wits when you’re winning.’

Li Mubai retorted, “Keep my name out of it.”

At that, the three Confucian elders fell silent.

The White Deer Academy students had a tough road ahead of them. Even if they passed the imperial examinations, there was a low chance they would be granted a seat in the courts. The most they could look forward to was an official position in some backwater or border town.

The disappointing prospects greatly diminished the students’ motivation to study for the imperial examinations.

The silence in the room was broken by Zhang Zhen. “We must rejuvenate our fellow students.”

Chen Tai’s expression darkened. “We must stand firm and bear this burden. The White Deer Academy should never lose its bid for court appointments.”

Li Mubai said, “Let’s encourage them to study. We mustn’t let the academy down.”

Zhang Zhen rolled a chess piece between his fingers as he said, “The headmaster lectures them every year without fail. We won’t see a significant boost in morale.”

Chen Tai stroked his long beard and frowned. “A new way to motivate them then? Make them recognize the importance of the imperial exams. How about an essay?”

Li Mubai shook his head. “A thankless effort, unpopular with the students.”

“Poetry it is.” Zhang Zhen took a sip of tea and said, “Poetry has touched many hearts through the centuries. A well-written poem can motivate them better than a lecture.”

The problem was Dafeng was suffering from a deficiency of poetry talents.

The three Confucian elders exchanged glances and collectively shook their heads.

[1] Qingyun can be directly translated to ‘pure clouds’.