Chapter 111: The Withering of a Hundred Flowers

Once the clamor dies down, one often feels a sense of aimless emptiness, as if lost in the sudden stillness.

After checking on Tang Xiaoqie, who had been experiencing bouts of anxiety during her pregnancy, and promising to return that night to keep her company, Lu Liaoliao locked himself in his study. He paced back and forth, his mind a tangled mess he could not seem to unravel.

He retrieved the brocade box given to him by his mentor's wife, Princess Yuzhen. Upon opening it, he saw the deed to the estate lying inside, but the thrill and excitement he had felt the first time were gone. It was a villa at the foot of Mount Zhongnan, where his master had once lived in Chang'an, gifted to him by the Princess as a wedding present. Like a beggar who had stumbled upon a gold ingot, Lu Liaoliao had been secretly delighted for days, but now, the feeling had vanished entirely.

"Heh!" After a moment, he chuckled to himself. If he were to give this villa as a gift to Gu Xiehua, would that count as a grand gesture? He would be squandering his entire fortune just to please her.

"The Prime Minister wishes to see you."

A hoarse, low voice suddenly sounded from behind, startling Lu Liaoliao. He turned to find an old man with graying hair and deep, enigmatic eyes standing behind him like a ghost.

"Now?" Lu Liaoliao glanced at the dark, star-sparse sky and asked, feeling uncertain.

The old man’s eyes remained downcast, and he stood motionless, ignoring the question.

Recognizing the old man who had followed Li Linfu during the wedding, Lu Liaoliao said nothing more. He put the box away and followed him.

It felt strange to have to dodge his own household staff like a thief within his own home. However, he could not help but admire the old man’s nimble, ghostly footwork, which was as swift as a startled hare.

It was the midnight hour in Pingkang Ward, the peak time for the lanterns to shine. Glancing at the brilliantly lit Tianxian Pavilion and hearing the melodic sounds of strings and laughter within, Lu Liaoliao felt a sudden pang of bitterness. Who knows which wealthy young heir was currently paying a fortune to have Yilai keep him company with a smile?

He kept his head down, following the old man through a side gate into the residence of the Tang Dynasty’s powerful Prime Minister. After navigating countless turns, they finally reached the Prime Minister’s study.

At the desk, Li Linfu was reading a scroll under the candlelight, his expression stern. He did not even glance at Lu Liaoliao, who had been brought in by the old servant, Li Sansui.

"Disciple Lu Liaoliao pays respects to Uncle-Master." The invisible aura of authority emanating from Li Linfu made Lu Liaoliao feel terrified, and he dropped to his knees at once.

Li Linfu casually set the scroll on the desk and swept his gaze over Lu Liaoliao, showing no intention of telling him to rise.

"I, Li Linfu, was born into the imperial clan. When I came of age, I was idle and unlearned, spending my days playing polo on donkeys with a bunch of riff-raff in Luoyang, wasting my time. One day, feeling exhausted, I lay down to rest. To my surprise, a foul-smelling old Taoist came to mock me, and I retorted sharply. I didn't expect to meet him again the next day. This time, when he mocked me, I did not argue but humbly asked for his teaching. To my surprise, that old man was a descendant of the Guigu school, hiding in the world. I, Li Linfu, was fortunate enough to be taken as his disciple.

"After three years of study, I learned I had a senior fellow apprentice. However, he only wanted to bury himself in writing and had no interest in worldly affairs, so the master chose me instead. Over forty years have passed, and this is the first time I have seen another member of our school. I never imagined that our Guigu school, which once looked down upon all other schools and commanded the world, would wither to such a state."

Li Linfu spoke as if to himself. After finishing, he shook his head repeatedly, his expression bleak, and stared into the night sky for a long time.

Lu Liaoliao remained prostrate on the floor, not daring to interrupt.

"When you left the mountain for Chang'an, your master, Taibin, could not have failed to remind you that members of the Guigu school alternate between seclusion and service. I do not believe that with the skills of a Guigu disciple, you could spend over a year in Chang'an without finding your elder in the court. Was it your pride that kept you from seeking me out? Did you insist on carving out your own path before appearing before me?"

How could Lu Liaoliao’s thoughts possibly be hidden from Li Linfu, who had dominated the Tang Dynasty for seventeen years?

"My other master, Taibai, also studied at Dongchang Rock for three years. Later, he came to Chang'an seeking a career, but returned in disappointment. I have carefully studied the reasons for his failure. While there were shortcomings on his part, I could never understand why you, Uncle-Master, would look on with indifference when you could have lent him a hand. This made me fearful, and I delayed coming to pay my respects."

Lu Liaoliao bit the bullet and offered his explanation.

"Heh! The 'Poet Immortal' Taibai? He can hardly be considered a disciple of Guigu. His talent is transcendent; his poems and prose come effortlessly, elegant and carefree, unparalleled in the world. He studied with your master Taibin for three years, yet your master never acknowledged him as a disciple. Don't you know why?" Li Linfu smiled indifferently, making no effort to hide his disdain for Li Bai.

"This... I do not know." Lu Liaoliao naturally dared not speak ill of his own master.

"Your chess skills are superb, so you must have played many games against Master Taibai. How do you find his play?" Li Linfu changed the subject, waiting for an answer.

"Light, ethereal, and imaginative, though he cares little for the reality of the board," Lu Liaoliao answered honestly.

"A fallen immortal indeed—full of celestial air, he naturally cares nothing for the mundane world. But that peerless charm is fatal to women. He only visited me a few times, and my daughter was completely bewitched by him. Later, even the Imperial Consort admired him greatly. Tell me, could he possibly remain in Chang'an?"

Li Linfu’s expression soured; he clearly harbored deep resentment over his daughter becoming a Taoist nun. He waved his hand, signaling Lu Liaoliao to rise, and took a sip of tea.

"How long did it take you to find me, your elder in the court, after you arrived in Chang'an?"

"You have been Prime Minister for seventeen years, Uncle-Master. You are cautious in every matter of governance, organized in managing affairs, and diligent in refining the laws. Whether in the capital or the provinces, there is a consistent standard. Every time you attend court, you are accompanied by a hundred guards. This inevitably reminds one of the demeanor of the great Zhuge Wuhou. However, in my view, in your seventeen years as Prime Minister, you have made the Tang Dynasty even more prosperous than Zhuge Wuhou ever did."

Lu Liaoliao finished his speech and stole a glance at Li Linfu’s reaction. But the Prime Minister remained expressionless, idly playing with the lid of his teacup, making it clear that the flattery had been useless.

"You value agriculture and promote commerce, revise the legal codes, reform the military, and are practical and trustworthy. You never hesitate to promote those with real ability and talent, while showing utter contempt for those who merely talk big. That is why those scholars mock you in private, inventing stories like 'No Worthy Left in the Wild' or 'The Cane and the Deer' to ridicule your lack of learning. They frame you as jealous of the talented and 'honey-mouthed but sword-hearted.' In this day and age, where Confucianism holds absolute power and all other schools wither, only a disciple of Guigu would despise those sour, useless Confucian scholars. As dull as I am, I could still easily discern your background."

As he spoke, beads of sweat appeared on Lu Liaoliao’s forehead, and he did not dare raise his head.

"Hmph!" Li Linfu snorted dismissively. "When the Emperor prepared to confer a title upon Niu Xianke, these scholars desperately blocked it, claiming his academic credentials were insufficient. Later, they pushed for Li Shizhi to be Prime Minister to dilute my power. One day, Li Shizhi was chatting with me, and I feigned ignorance, saying there was a gold mine at the foot of Mount Hua. Li Shizhi excitedly reported it to the Emperor, only to be scolded. He then spread the story everywhere, calling me 'honey-mouthed but sword-hearted.' You tell me, does such a useless bookworm deserve to be the Prime Minister of our Tang Dynasty?"

Lu Liaoliao’s face twitched; he wanted to laugh but dared not.

"These Confucian scholars think that because they have read a few books by the sages and can compose poems, they are fit to be generals and ministers, lead armies, and govern the world. It is a joke. As long as I, Li Linfu, am alive, I will cut off their delusions."

Li Linfu, usually a man of deep secrets, seemed to lose his guard, perhaps because he had finally met a fellow disciple.

"If you act this way, Uncle-Master, are you not afraid of the wagging tongues of those scholars? No one is better at smearing others than they are."

Lu Liaoliao felt this deeply. His own innovative ideas were labeled as 'unclean' simply because they were unconventional. The scholars couldn't see the benefit to the country, and instead branded him with the nickname 'The Poet Immortal’s Disciple—The Dung Beetle.' If not for that, why would he have been so enraged as to insult their 'Second Sage'?

"To settle the affairs of the world for the Emperor, and to win a name for oneself before and after death—these are the things those useless, corrupt scholars claim to pursue. When has a member of the Guigu school ever cared for such empty fame?" Li Linfu waved his sleeve, holding such things in total contempt.

To have the residence of a dignified Prime Minister situated right next to a red-light district, entering and leaving every day with such composure—it seemed his powerful uncle-master truly did not care for empty reputation. This was the true style of a Guigu strategist. Lu Liaoliao couldn't help but puff out his chest.

"I can act this way, but you, you cannot!" Li Linfu glanced at Lu Liaoliao, and his words instantly deflated the young man’s spirit.

"These Confucianists hold up Confucius—who only knew how to preach ritual—as the Sage, and Mencius—who spoke empty words of benevolence and righteousness—as the Second Sage. Who do you think the true sage of the Confucian school should be?"

Li Linfu took another sip of tea, his deep gaze never leaving Lu Liaoliao.

Lu Liaoliao took a deep breath, knowing the test had arrived.

"I believe that for Confucianism to have reached its current position of dominance, it owes everything to Dong Zhongshu, who presented the 'Three Strategies of Heaven and Humanity' to Emperor Wu of the Former Han. If the Confucian school were to truly name a sage, he should be the first choice."

Li Linfu nodded slightly and glanced at Li Sansui, who had been standing silently at his side. Li Sansui led Lu Liaoliao to a small table to sit and served him tea.

"In my life, from ancient times to the present, I have only respected two people. One, naturally, is our Guigu ancestor, Wang Chan. The other is this Dong Zhongshu, who led Emperor Wu of the Former Han to 'dismiss the hundred schools and revere only Confucianism.' But while I respect our ancestor, for Dong Zhongshu, I feel both admiration and hatred.

"Our ancestor’s power subdued the hundred schools, and his disciples were all peerless in their time. But this Dong Zhongshu of the Confucian school sold it like a prostitute to the imperial house. 'The unity of Heaven and Man' and 'the mandate of heaven granted to the sovereign' pushed the status of the emperor to a supreme position. By dismissing the hundred schools, our Guigu school was slandered as agents of chaos. The Mohists were relegated to the status of lowly craftsmen; the essence of Legalism was stolen; the Yin-Yang school had to cobble together the theory of 'Five Virtues' to cater to the Emperor, struggling to survive in the Star Observatory. Alas..."

Li Linfu let out a long sigh and fell silent.

"Mythologizing imperial power and catering to the Emperor’s desire for unification naturally won their support. By dividing the people into scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants, they solidified the ruler’s control. Naturally, the status of Confucianism rose. This 'sale' by Dong Zhongshu was worth every penny. 'Any study not following the path of Confucius is to be cut off.' If scholars wanted a career, they had to study Confucianism. But because of this, we can no longer see the grand spectacle of the hundred schools debating and stars shining bright.

"In my study of history, since Emperor Wu of the Former Han, there has never been another sage who could establish a new school of thought. This confinement has severely limited the development of our Nine Provinces. Is this why you hate Dong Zhongshu, Uncle-Master?" Lu Liaoliao ventured to voice his thoughts.

"Haha!" Li Linfu let out a great laugh. "You think Dong Zhongshu’s genius was limited to just that sale? On the surface, the Confucians only held onto rituals and sacrifices, not directly participating in too much of the government. But his 'Heavenly Interaction' theory is an invisible shackle placed around the neck of the Emperor. Whenever there is a natural disaster, they jump out to blame the Emperor for losing virtue, rather than investigating the true cause. If the Emperor’s conduct does not meet their whims, they accuse him of failing the rites.

"By the time Emperor Wu of the Former Han realized the trap, he had already dismissed and exiled Dong Zhongshu, but it was too late to turn the tide. This world ultimately became one where the Emperor and the Confucians depend on and support each other to rule. The harm of Dong Zhongshu plagues later generations; it is impossible to cleanse."