Chapter 11

A scholar with silver at his temples led a young man in a blue robe away from the village school and came to the base of a memorial archway. The scholar, the most learned man in the small town, looked somewhat haggard. He pointed to a plaque above their heads and asked, "What does the phrase 'When it comes to righteousness, one should not yield' mean?"

The young man, Zhao You, who was both a student and a book boy, followed his teacher’s gaze and looked up without hesitation. "We Confucians establish our teachings on the principle of benevolence. The four characters on the plaque, 'When it comes to righteousness, one should not yield,' are derived from the saying 'When it comes to righteousness, one should not yield even to one's teacher.' This means that while we scholars should respect our teachers and value the Way, we do not need to be modest when it comes to matters of righteousness and morality."

Mr. Qi asked, "Not need to be modest? What if it were changed to 'must not'?"

The young man in the blue robe had a clear and refined appearance. Compared to Song Jixi’s aggressive and sharp demeanor, he had a more gentle and reserved temperament, like a lotus just beginning to bloom, naturally charming. When the teacher asked this question with hidden profundity, the young man did not dare to take it lightly. He carefully considered it, thinking that the teacher was testing his knowledge and did not dare to be casual. The middle-aged scholar, seeing his disciple’s cautious demeanor, smiled and patted the young man’s shoulder. "I was just asking casually, no need to be nervous. It seems I have been too strict with you, restraining your nature too much, making you live like a statue in the Wenchang Pavilion, always serious, always following rules, always being reasonable, which must be tiring... But from what I see now, it’s actually a good thing."

The young man was somewhat puzzled, but the teacher had already led him around to the other side, still looking up at the four-character plaque. The scholar’s expression relaxed. For some reason, the usually stern teacher began to tell many interesting stories and anecdotes to his disciple. "The four characters on the plaque, 'When it comes to righteousness, one should not yield,' were written by the best calligrapher of the time, which sparked many debates, such as the debate over the structure and spirit of the characters, the debate over the 'ancient simplicity' and 'modern elegance,' and so on. There is still no consensus. The four principles of calligraphy—rhythm, method, meaning, and posture—have been dominated by this person for a thousand years, leaving no room for other masters. As for the current 'Rarely spoken, naturally so,' it’s quite amusing. If you look closely, you’ll notice that although the four characters are similar in brushwork, structure, and spirit, they were actually written by four different Daoist patriarchs. At the time, two old immortals even exchanged letters, arguing over who should write the mysterious 'rarely' and who should write the mundane 'spoken'..."

The scholar then led the young man to the plaque that read 'Do not seek outside.' He looked around, his gaze distant. "The village school where you studied will soon be closed or even demolished by a few powerful families, to be turned into a small Daoist temple or a Buddhist statue for pilgrims to worship, with a Daoist or a monk in charge. Year after year, until the sixty-year cycle is complete, the leadership might change two or three times to avoid arousing suspicion among the townspeople. It’s just a crude illusion. However, if you were to complete a minor spell here, it might be as grand as a heavenly deity striking a drum or a spring thunder shaking the earth elsewhere..."

As the teacher spoke, his voice became as soft as a mosquito’s, and even Zhao You, the student, could not hear clearly despite straining his ears.

Mr. Qi sighed, his tone somewhat helpless and weary. "Many things are meant to be kept secret, but now it matters less and less. But we are scholars, and we must still maintain our dignity. Moreover, if I, Qi Jingchun, were to break the rules, it would be like a guard stealing from the treasury, making a very poor impression."

Zhao You suddenly mustered the courage to say, "Teacher, I know you are not an ordinary person, and this town is not an ordinary place."

The scholar smiled curiously. "Oh? Tell me more."

Zhao You pointed to the majestic twelve-legged archway. "This place, along with the iron-locked well in Apricot Flower Lane, the bridge with two iron swords hanging underneath, the old locust tree, the peach tree in Peach Leaf Lane, and the Grain Rain and Double Ninth Festival posters posted on Fulu Street every year, are all very strange."

The scholar interrupted the young man. "Strange? How so? You’ve grown up here and have never left. Have you ever seen the scenery outside the town? Without a point of comparison, how can you say it’s strange?"

Zhao You’s voice deepened. "I am already very familiar with the content of the books you gave me. The peach blossoms in Peach Leaf Lane are very different from the descriptions in the poems. Furthermore, why do you only teach us the three basic texts, focusing on literacy? What should we read after the basics? What is the purpose of reading? What is 'scholarship'? What does it mean to go from a peasant in the morning to a court official by night? What does it mean that the emperor values heroes and teaches us through literature? The two successive supervisors of the kiln, although they never talk about the court, the capital, or the world, still..."

The scholar smiled in satisfaction. "Enough, more talk is unnecessary."

Zhao You immediately stopped speaking.

The scholar, who called himself Qi Jingchun, whispered, "Zhao You, in the future, you need to be cautious with your words and actions, always remembering that words can bring disaster. Therefore, most Confucian sages keep their mouths shut. Gentlemen above sages practice prudence in solitude, maintaining their integrity like jade, fearing any flaws. As for the sages, like the masters of the seventy-two academies... these people can, like great Daoist immortals and Buddhist arhats, make their words come true, their commands followed by law. These people, when they reach this realm, are generally called terrestrial immortals, having one foot in the door. However, these figures are all like dragons, some high and mighty, like statues in temples, unreachable, and others elusive, impossible for ordinary people to find."

Zhao You was confused, as if in a fog.

Zhao You couldn’t help but ask, "Teacher, why are you telling me this today?"

The scholar’s expression was open and he smiled. "You have a teacher, and I have a teacher. My teacher... let’s not talk about it. I thought I could linger for a few more decades, but I suddenly realized that some people behind the scenes don’t even want to wait that long. So this time, I can’t take you out of the town; you need to go out on your own. Some harmless truths should be revealed to you, but you should just treat them as stories. I only hope you understand one thing: there are heavens beyond the sky, and people above people. No matter how 'blessed' and 'fortunate' you are, Zhao You, you must not become complacent or slack off."

The water in the well was receding, and the locust leaves were falling, all signs of a foreboding.

The scholar, Qi Jingchun, reminded, "Zhao You, do you remember the locust leaf I asked you to keep?"

The young student nodded vigorously. "I put it away with the seal you gave me."

"Is there ever a time when a leaf leaves the branch so fresh and green? In this town of thousands, only a few have received this 'blessing.' You can often play with that locust leaf; it might bring you some good fortune in the future."

The scholar’s eyes were deep. "In addition, these past years, I have always encouraged you to do good deeds and form good connections in the town, treating everyone with respect and sincerity. In the future, you will gradually understand the subtleties. These seemingly insignificant trivial matters, like water eroding stone, will eventually bring benefits that may not be inferior to reading a local gazetteer."

The young man noticed a yellow bird perched on a stone beam, occasionally hopping and chirping.

The scholar, hands behind his back, looked up at the yellow bird, his expression serious.

The young man couldn’t see anything unusual.

The scholar, Qi Jingchun, suddenly looked towards Niping Lane, his brows furrowing even more.

The scholar sighed softly. "The insects are gradually hearing the sounds of spring and emerging from the ground. But as a guest, acting so secretly under the host’s nose, using such underhanded tactics, isn’t that a bit too presumptuous? Do you really think you can do as you please here with just a small bowl of water?"

Zhao You was worried. "Teacher?"

The scholar waved his hand, indicating that it was not the young man’s concern, and just led him to the last plaque.

The young man, Zhao You, suddenly stopped as if struck by a thunderbolt, his eyes wide and fixed.

Not far away, there was a young woman in black, wearing a veil that obscured her face. She had a well-proportioned figure, neither too slender nor too plump. A long sword with a white scabbard and a narrow saber with a green scabbard hung from her waist. She stood under the plaque that read 'Qi Chong Dou Niu' (Qi: Spirit, Chong: Soaring, Dou: Dipper, Niu: Ox), her arms crossed, head held high.

The scholar found it amusing and coughed lightly.

The young man was completely stunned, not even noticing the teacher’s subtle hint to avoid looking.

The scholar smiled, not scolding him, and instead stopped coughing, allowing the young man to stare at the girl.

The girl seemed not to notice the young man’s gaze.

She seemed particularly fond of the four characters 'Qi Chong Dou Niu.' Compared to the other three plaques with their dignified and solemn regular script, this one was written in running script, with a spirit that was almost reckless.

She liked it!

The young man suddenly came to his senses, as the teacher had patted his shoulder and laughed. "Zhao You, you should go back to the school to pack your things and take them home."

The young man’s face turned red, and he lowered his head, following the teacher back to the school.

The girl slowly released her grip on the hilt of her saber.

In the distance, the scholar teased, "Zhao You, Zhao You, I just saved your life."

The young man was shocked. "Teacher?"

The scholar hesitated, his expression serious. "In the future, when you see her, you must take a different path."

The refined young man in the blue robe was surprised and a bit disappointed. "Teacher, why?"

Qi Jingchun thought for a moment and said, "She is incredibly sharp and destined to be a sword without a sheath."

The young man wanted to say something but held back.

The middle-aged scholar smiled. "Of course, if you secretly like someone, even the Daoist patriarchs and Buddhas can’t stop you. Even we scholars, with our many rules, our greatest teacher only advised against speaking, looking, listening, and acting improperly, but not against thinking improperly."

At that moment, the young man suddenly blurted out, "She smells so good!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, the young man was stunned.

The scholar was a bit troubled, not because he was angry, but because the situation was delicate. He said sternly, "Zhao You, turn around!"

The young man instinctively turned, his back to the teacher.

At the base of the archway, the girl turned her head, her killing intent surging.

She first let her hands hang down, her thumbs pressing on the hilt of the sword and the hilt of the saber.

Then she started a short run, about four or five steps, and suddenly exerted force with her hands and feet. The three-foot-long sword with the white scabbard and the narrow saber with the green scabbard were the first to leave their sheaths, slanting forward. At the same time, she leaped into the air, quickly grasping the sword and saber, and without a word, she swung them down with all her might!

Between the black-clad girl and the teacher and student, two thin but bright arcs of light were stretched and burst.

It was not a supernatural power or a spell.

It was purely a matter of speed!

The scholar’s expression was relaxed, and he made no move to dodge, only lightly stomping his foot.

A ripple spread out.

In the next moment, the girl’s body tensed, her killing intent even stronger.

The powerful strike of the sword and saber completely missed, and she found herself standing where the weapons had been unsheathed.

The scholar smiled. "Not bad, using full force even against a rabbit. But to be honest, my disciple did offend you, but it’s not a capital offense, is it?"

The girl deliberately made her voice mature and deep, slowly sheathing her sword and holding the saber with one hand, the tip pointing at the scholar. "How you 'feel' is your business, I don’t care."

She took a step forward. "What I do is my business. Of course, you can... try to stop me!"

She charged forward rapidly.

The ground where her feet landed immediately sank into two small pits.

The scholar, one hand behind his back, the other loosely clenched into a fist in front of his abdomen, smiled. "In the art of war, speed is the key. Unfortunately, in this world, even if it is about to fall apart, as long as it hasn’t, even ten terrestrial immortals working together to break the formation would be like ants trying to shake a tree. What more can you do?"

In the next moment, the girl appeared inexplicably a dozen steps to the left of the scholar.

She thought for a moment and closed her eyes.

The scholar shook his head and smiled. "It’s not an illusion as you think. This world is like a small universe in Buddhism, and here, I am..."

"Huh?"

He suddenly sounded surprised, stopping his words and instantly appearing beside the girl, gently grasping the tip of the saber with two fingers.

He asked, "Who taught you your sword and saber techniques?"

The girl did not open her eyes, her left hand gripping the hilt of the recently sheathed sword, a cold light sweeping across the scholar’s waist, trying to cut him in half.

The scholar, holding the tip of the saber with two fingers, shouted, "Back!"

The ground rang with a clattering sound, dust flying. A moment later, the figure of the veiled girl appeared, her feet one in front of the other, a trench appearing from her feet to the scholar, as if plowed by a plow.

The girl’s hands were bloody and torn.

The sword and saber were out of their sheaths, but she had been disarmed.

Moreover, she knew that her opponent had been suppressing his strength to match hers.

This was a matter of skill, not cultivation.

She was on the verge of losing control.

Unconsciously, the light around her distorted.

The teacher, who was the most reasonable and considerate, advised, "For now, it’s best not to compare yourself to me. It might hinder your martial path. Reaching the peak of martial arts requires gradual progress, which is crucial."

He looked strange, one hand holding the tip of the sword, the other holding the blade.

He suddenly laughed, imitating the girl’s tone, saying in a "mature" voice, "Whether you listen is your choice, but whether I speak is my business."

The girl was silent for a moment, her voice low. "I understand."

The scholar smiled and nodded, pleased that she was not a haughty and arrogant woman. He gently threw the saber back to her. "Here’s your saber."

He looked at the tip of the sword in his hand, which was trembling slightly.

The young phoenix’s voice is clearer than the old phoenix’s.

The scholar regretted, "The quality of this sword is quite good, but it’s not top-notch, so it can barely carry the weight of two characters. Otherwise, with your talent and bone structure, you could easily take three characters, if not all four..."

As he sighed, he raised his hand and shouted, "Command!"

Two dazzling lights flew from the plaque 'Qi Chong Dou Niu.'

The scholar waved his sleeve twice, sending them into the sword.

On the plaque, the characters 'Qi' and 'Niu' still had their spirit.

The characters 'Chong' and 'Dou' were like an old man on his deathbed, having a brief moment of vitality before losing all his energy.

The scholar casually flicked his wrist, and the sword instantly returned to its sheath. Because it was sheathed, no one knew that two currents of energy were now flowing like dragons within the blade.

The next scene shocked even the experienced Qi Jingchun.

The girl slowly removed the sword from its sheath, casually throwing it to the side, where it tilted and stuck into the yellow earth. Behind the veil, her eyes were determined. "This is not the sword path I seek."

The scholar glanced at the sword the girl had abandoned, feeling a deep sense of heaviness. He had to ask a question that was beneath his dignity. "Do you know who I am?"

The girl nodded and then shook her head. "I heard that every sixty years, a sage from one of the three teachings comes here to maintain a great formation, which has been going on for thousands of years. Occasionally, someone who leaves here either possesses a strange treasure or makes rapid progress in cultivation, so I came to see. When I saw you, I knew who you were, otherwise, I wouldn’t have attacked so directly."

Qi Jingchun asked again, "Do you know what you just gave up?"

The girl was silent.

The sword in the sheath on the ground trembled, as if a beautiful woman was weeping and begging for her lover to change his mind.

The young student had already secretly turned his head, cautiously watching the girl from a distance.

The scholar, with his vast knowledge, was still puzzled. He couldn’t force the girl to take the sword, which contained great fortune, so he finally reminded her, "Miss, it’s best to take the sword. The town will not be... peaceful in the future. Having an extra weapon for protection is always a good thing."

The girl said nothing, turned, and walked away.

She still refused to take the sword.

Qi Jingchun was a bit helpless, waving his sleeve to pin the sword to a high pillar of the archway. If someone tried to forcibly remove it, it would certainly alert him, just as the "storyteller" had twice tried to intervene without escaping his attention.

He personally escorted Zhao You from the school to the Zhao family’s mansion on Fulu Street, walking slowly. Every step he took, some hidden places in the high gates and courtyards on both sides of the street would flash with light, though not easily noticeable.

Qi Jingchun muttered, "What a strange girl. Could she be a descendant of a celestial being from another continent?"

Back at the school, he sat at his desk, where a jade tablet about a foot and a half long was placed. The four corners were carved with the four sacred mountains, symbolizing stability in all directions. The front was inscribed with dense small seal script, no less than a hundred characters.

According to Confucian ritual, only the emperor of a country