Chapter 123: Scholars Use Literature to Subvert the Law

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Yan Dong asked Li Shimin with obsequious eagerness whether he should go warn Cai Cong. The matter could be considered serious or trivial. At worst, it was defiance of an imperial decree; at best, Cai Cong was still studying at the academy.

“Go tell him to keep a lower profile. With all this fanfare, how is he supposed to settle down and study?”

“This old servant will go at once.”

“Not yet. Wait until he finishes telling the story over the next few days. I want to hear the ending.”

Li Shimin said it with a smile. Yan Dong was left torn between laughter and tears, but he could only obey. If word got out that he had told Cai Cong to stop his storytelling, those sons of officials might truly sneak over at midnight and dump manure at his gate.

The open grounds of the Four Gates Academy were packed with people. Cai Cong was giving the final installment of the story that day. Some students had raced over after class, stools tucked under their arms, solely to secure a good place.

A book was a world unto itself. Countless people wanted to know what choice Guo Jing would make in the end: whether he would uphold the principle that every common man shared responsibility for the fate of the realm, or whether he would follow his sworn brother Yang Kang and acknowledge a traitor as his father.

“Damn, this tale is excellent. There’s only one thing I don’t like about it. It really gets under my skin.”

The complaint came from the crowd before the story had even begun. At once, several people glared fiercely at the speaker.

“Brother, I think the part you’re talking about is wonderful. What exactly displeases you?” someone asked, fists clenched.

“Why does the man who sells out his country for glory and calls a traitor his father have to bear the surname Yang? There’s no one like that among us Yangs!”

The man rolled up his sleeves and shouted. The others coughed awkwardly and lowered their fists.

Let us pretend we heard nothing. Damn it, the surname Yang was still better than ours. Yang was a fine surname.

This time, even the academy instructors skipped their lessons. They spent the afternoon listening to the tale, each of them burning with excitement. To defend a city for the sake of the kingdom through the strength of the martial world—that was what a true hero ought to do!

As dusk settled over the land, Cai Cong slapped the wooden table and declared loudly, “The Legend of the Condor Heroes ends here. Martial heroes who use force to disrupt the law, scholars who use words to undermine justice—neither is desirable. The greatest of heroes must serve the country and its people.”

As he spoke, Cai Cong glanced at the people seated in the very front. They were all young adventurers from families of powerful officials. If he could instill in them a proper understanding of what it meant to be a hero, perhaps they might prove useful in the future.

“What a magnificent saying! From this day forward, it shall be my lifelong ambition—to become a great hero revered by ten thousand people!” Zhang Kai cried excitedly. He drew his sword and was about to brandish it when Cai Cong struck it from his hand with a blow from the wooden table.

“There are so many people here. If you lose control and injure someone, you can forget about becoming a great hero. You’d better spend your time in prison instead!” Cai Cong said crossly.

The others, who had been itching to show off as well, quietly abandoned the idea.

“You little book servant, you’re certainly bold. I may be the son of a count, but you still dare to order me around?” Zhang Kai muttered. He did not dare raise his voice; he still wanted Cai Cong to teach him the art of striking pressure points.

“You’re always laughing, laughing, laughing. As a young master, how is it that you have less presence than your own book servant? Anyone who didn’t know better would think he was the young master!”

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Tang Yi’s face turned red. How he longed to shout that he was the book servant—that he was the true, genuine, exemplary book servant!

“This is boring. At this rate, your book servant is more entertaining than you. The book is over, and there’s no more excitement to be had. Come on, let’s go.”

Zhang Kai spoke with disappointment and began walking toward the exit with his friends.

“Since ancient times, heroes have used force to disrupt the law. Why is the Marquis of Chang’an so loudly promoting the habits of wandering knights? Could it be that he wishes, as in the days of the Han Dynasty, to encourage such men to take pride in killing people in the streets?”

A sonorous voice rang out from beyond the crowd. Everyone turned to look. A tall man in a long robe was walking calmly into the grounds.

The Marquis of Chang’an? Where was the Marquis of Chang’an? How could someone of such stature be here?

The thought occurred to everyone at once. In their eyes, how could a person of Cai Cong’s stature possibly be studying at the Four Gates Academy? The Mountain-Ring Academy he had founded was hailed as the modern-day Academy of Jixia.

“Who are you?”

Cai Cong remained seated, lifting his eyelids to glance at the newcomer. He was not afraid that his identity had been exposed. He had never wanted to study here in the first place. But since someone had revealed who he was, he wanted to know who had done it.

“I am Chang Zai, a lecturer at the Academy of Literary Culture. I pay my respects to the Marquis of Chang’an. Might Your Lordship answer a question that has long troubled me?”

Chang Zai spoke calmly. He displayed not the slightest trace of awe toward this decisive and ruthless lord of the realm. Instead, he was openly aggressive.

“Greetings, Your Lordship!”

Only then did everyone realize that the little book servant who shouted himself hoarse telling stories every day was actually the famous Marquis of Chang’an. Ignorance might excuse a lack of courtesy, but once his identity was known, no one could afford to neglect the proper etiquette.

“There is no need for such ceremony. Director Cheng, please forgive me. As headmaster of the Mountain-Ring Academy, I harbor no ill will by appearing at your Four Gates Academy. It is simply that I have repeatedly aided disaster relief and slain too many wicked men, until the violence clouded my mind.

“His Majesty took pity on me and permitted me to conceal my identity and live as an ordinary man here at the Four Gates Academy, cleansing my spirit through poetry, history, ritual, and music. But judging from what has happened today, I fear I shall disappoint His Majesty. I will have to find another way to dispel the demons of my heart.”

Cai Cong did not even look at Chang Zai. Instead, he first explained to Master Cheng why he had come to the Four Gates Academy. He had no choice but to explain. Academies competed with one another, and if people claimed that Cai Cong had come to steal their classics, the reputation of the Mountain-Ring Academy would be ruined.

When they heard Cai Cong’s words, everyone glared at Chang Zai. Elsewhere, Cai Cong’s reputation might have been thoroughly slandered, but in the Guanzhong region, he was revered as a living Buddha by thousands of households.

Who did not know that the Marquis of Chang’an had killed countless bandits and powerful local tyrants while rescuing the people of Shandong from disaster? He had even been assassinated several times and nearly lost his life.

Later, when floods struck Guanzhong, he opened the granaries to provide relief and established grain routes. If not for the Marquis of Chang’an, bandit uprisings would have erupted across the region long ago. How could everyone still be studying in peace?

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At the thought, someone could not help spitting in Chang Zai’s direction. The others looked at him with equal disgust. The marquis merely wished to recover in peace, yet Chang Zai had leaped out to expose him. He was clearly no good person.

Chang Zai ignored the hostility of the others. Wearing a faint smile, he calmly watched Cai Cong, waiting for his answer.

“Lecturer Chang, I wonder if you have ever heard the saying, ‘In whatever position one occupies, one must attend to the duties of that position.’ If you were a censor, you could report what you had heard and impeach me before His Majesty. But you are merely a lecturer. Your duty is to teach and cultivate students at the Academy of Literary Culture. If you wish to impeach me, you may place your memorial in the bronze basin outside the Vermilion Bird Gate, and His Majesty will deal with it once he sees it.

“Yet now you have come here to question me. May I ask what gives you the right? What authority do you possess to interrogate me?”

Cai Cong spoke with disdain. Chang Zai put on an air of lofty moral superiority and looked down at him, but Cai Cong had no desire to waste time on him.

“As the saying goes, when something is unjust, someone must intervene. Your Lordship is promoting the habits of wandering knights here, which is harmful to the country. I believe I have every right to demand an explanation. If someone takes your words to heart and kills a man in the street, what then?”

Chang Zai spoke loudly. Some people sneered at him. He was clearly trying to build his reputation by trampling on the Marquis of Chang’an. Those who could not see through his intentions, however, felt that his words had some merit.

Cai Cong looked at him scornfully, then asked the crowd, “What is the duty of the greatest hero?”

“To serve the country and its people!”

Everyone shouted until their voices cracked. Zhang Kai and his companions shouted louder than anyone, nearly screaming their throats raw. The roar carried several streets away, causing passersby to turn and stare at the academy.

“When did I ever teach people to behave like wandering knights? I spoke of the great hero—the equal of the greatest masters of letters. Do you understand now?”

Cai Cong smiled broadly.

Chang Zai’s face turned pale. He flicked his sleeves, his expression ugly. After hesitating for a moment, he bowed to Cai Cong, then strode away.

Seeing Chang Zai leave with a dark expression, the other students were filled with satisfaction. His conduct had won him no sympathy, and fighting on hostile ground without any support, he could only retreat in humiliation.

“Although Lecturer Chang showed very poor manners, I do not blame him. What he said was correct. I know that many of you here call yourselves wandering knights and take pride in it. But the saying that heroes use force to disrupt the law is not an accusation others have invented to slander you. Since the Han Dynasty, the reputation of heroes has been ruined by your predecessors, who indulged in settling grudges and repaying favors as they pleased.

“If you wish to call yourselves heroes, then show the bearing of heroes. Whoever acts recklessly in the name of personal vengeance should remember that the laws of the court are not ornaments.”

With that, Cai Cong left, abandoning a group of thoughtful young men to contemplate the paths they wished to take in life for the first time.

It was something worth celebrating.

End of chapter.

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