At the hour of the Dragon.
Outside the Biyong Gate of the Imperial Academy, the first snow had just melted into water.
Hundreds of people sat in dense ranks across the open ground.
At the very front, several high-ranking court officials in purple robes and jade belts sat upright in grand chairs.
Behind them, the sons of aristocratic families were arranged according to their commanderies, clan prestige, and rank. They wore silk and brocade, each seated atop a thick fox-fur mat.
Farther back were the ordinary students of the Imperial Academy. Their clothes were thin, and they knelt properly on rough, flimsy mats.
The seating was orderly, the hierarchy unmistakable, and not a sound could be heard throughout the gathering.
At the very front stood an elevated platform. Upon it was a large carved red sandalwood chair, its seat covered with the flawless white pelt of a white tiger.
Zheng Bo'an, patriarch of the Xingyang Zheng clan and senior libationer of the Imperial Academy, sat upon it.
His hair was white with age. He wore a Jinxian crown, with a jeweled pin securing his topknot.
“In ancient times, the sages composed the Spring and Autumn Annals to establish the subtle meanings and great principles underlying the order of the world.” Zheng Bo'an slowly shook his head, evidently lost in his subject. “The Zuo Commentary explained its events; the Gongyang Commentary clarified its wording; the Guliang Commentary distinguished its underlying emotions. Zheng Xuan of the Han gathered the great learning into one, while Kong Yingda of the Tang expanded its meaning through his commentaries.”
His gaze swept over the aristocratic youths in the front rows, then passed beyond them and settled on the Imperial Academy students in the back.
“Those who pursue learning must understand the laws of moral order.” Zheng Bo'an raised his voice slightly. “The Classics contain clear texts; commentaries must not contradict the Classics, and subcommentaries must not undermine the commentaries. This is an unchanging principle through the ages. True knowledge and penetrating insight lie entirely within the traditions and scholarly lineages of the great masters of past dynasties. There is no room for the slightest presumption or private speculation.”
Several aristocratic youths in the front rows nodded repeatedly.
One of them dipped his brush in ink and copied these words onto the xuan paper on the desk before him.
Most of the others simply remained bent forward, listening attentively.
After the time it took for an incense stick to burn, Zheng Bo'an brought his lecture to a close.
He reached into his sleeve and lifted the Jian kiln hare's-fur teacup from the small table beside him.
After taking a sip of hot tea, he returned the cup to its place.
“That concludes today's discussion of the Spring and Autumn Annals. Anyone who has questions may come forward and ask.” Zheng Bo'an leaned back in his chair.
At once, a young man in a blue brocade robe patterned with round floral designs rose from the front row. He took several steps toward the platform and bowed deeply.
“Your student is Liu Wenyuan of the Hedong Liu clan. I humbly ask the Senior Libationer to enlighten me.” Liu Wenyuan straightened and spoke clearly. “In the first year of Duke Yin in the Spring and Autumn Annals, it says: ‘The Earl of Zheng defeated Duan at Yan.’”
“Confucius condemned Duke Zhuang for failing to educate his younger brother, while Gongyang Gao criticized him for harboring the intention to kill his brother. The commentaries of successive dynasties have often disagreed on this matter. Your student does not understand—how should this be resolved?”
Zheng Bo'an looked at him, and the answer came immediately.
“Your Hedong Liu clan follows the Guliang tradition, yet you bring the teachings of the Gongyang school to question me.”
“Gongyang Gao emphasized political stratagems, while Guliang Chi valued human relationships and moral norms. Duke Zhuang failed to educate his brother before killing him, and thus was not brotherly. Gongshu Duan relied on favor and became arrogant, and thus was not a younger brother.”
“Kong Yingda’s Correct Meaning already settled this matter long ago. Duan was unworthy of being called a younger brother, while Duke Zhuang failed in his duty to educate him. Both violated the principles of Heaven and human relations. Instead of studying the Correct Meaning of the Five Classics, you insist on digging into obscure corners of old texts. Go back and copy the Correct Meaning of the Zuo Commentary ten times.”
Liu Wenyuan’s face flushed. He immediately fell silent, bowed deeply, and returned to his seat.
Another student of the Imperial Academy rose and asked about the pronunciation and interpretation of two obscure characters.
Zheng Bo'an answered without hesitation. He could even clearly identify the dynasty and scholar from which each character came, along with the particular rare surviving manuscript in which it appeared.
The depth of the old master’s learning was revealed in these exchanges.
The more than one hundred people present were cowed by the unfathomable scholarly traditions behind his teachings. No one dared act rashly again.
The question-and-answer session was drawing to an end.
At the very back of the crowd, the Imperial Academy student Li Ke knelt on a cold, hard mat.
He wore a faded cotton robe, its cuffs frayed and worn through.
Both fists rested on his thighs. In his hands, he clutched several crumpled sheets of coarse yellow paper, their edges jagged and uneven.
Li Ke stared at the writing on the pages and swallowed hard.
The ink was dark and glossy. Every word and sentence contradicted the rigid doctrines that had just been expounded from the platform. He turned his head and glanced at Zheng Bo'an seated above, then lowered his eyes to the pages in his hands.
His teeth clenched. He was about to rise and ask his question when a hand suddenly reached over and pressed down on the back of his.
“You want to get yourself killed?” his fellow student hissed, his voice hurried and tense. “The Senior Libationer is presiding, and you’re holding an aberrant manuscript copied from the Court of Judicial Review. What are you trying to do? Put it back inside your robe, quickly!”
The student held Li Ke’s wrist.
Li Ke turned his head and looked at his companion’s sweating face.
Then he simply knocked the other’s hand away.
“Move.”
He rose from the mat.
The dozen or so students seated around him all turned to stare at him in unison.
The aristocratic youths in front heard the commotion as well and turned around one after another.
Li Ke ignored the gazes surrounding him.
Holding the pages in both hands, he walked all the way to a spot two paces below the platform and stopped.
“Li Ke, a student of the lowest-grade residence at the Imperial Academy, has a question!” he called out.
Zheng Bo'an looked at the student in the worn cotton robe.
The assistant instructors and academic supervisors on either side immediately frowned.
One of the assistant directors of the Imperial Academy rose and pointed at Li Ke, shouting, “Inquiries must be made according to seating order! You are merely a student of the lowest grade. Who permitted you to push your way forward and shout?”
“Assistant Director!” Li Ke turned toward him and cut him off directly. “The Senior Libationer just said that anyone with questions may come forward and ask. He set no distinction between noble and lowborn, and placed no restriction on seating order!”
The assistant director was left speechless. He was about to order the attendants to seize Li Ke when Zheng Bo'an spoke from the platform.
“Stand down.”
The assistant director shot Li Ke a vicious glare, then returned to his seat.
Zheng Bo'an looked at the yellow paper in Li Ke’s hands.
The paper was crude and inferior, its edges rough. It was not even as good as the lowest-grade draft paper used in the examination halls.
“What is your question?” Zheng Bo'an asked.
Li Ke raised the yellow pages high above his head with both hands.
“Your student happened upon a text. It speaks neither of the commentaries of the great masters nor of the will of Heaven and its response to human affairs. Instead, it reasons out the creation and workings of Heaven and Earth.”
“After reading it, your student could not sleep the entire night. My heart is filled with countless difficulties I cannot resolve.” Li Ke stared straight at the platform. “I humbly ask the Senior Libationer to examine it and determine for me whether what this text says is the true path or mere delusion!”
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
Liu Wenyuan, in the front row, looked at the yellow paper with open disgust.
Zheng Bo'an studied Li Ke and tilted his head slightly.
One of the attendants beside him immediately descended the steps, drew the pages from Li Ke’s hands, and quickly returned to the platform. With both hands, he presented them to Zheng Bo'an.
Zheng Bo'an accepted them slowly.
The entire gathering fell silent. Hundreds of eyes focused on those hands.
The wind lifted the sashes of several students below, sending them fluttering in the air.
Zheng Bo'an began to examine the text carefully.
The sound of paper turning gradually rang out.
Not a single person below moved.
Liu Wenyuan stared at the platform, tapping the folding fan in his hand rhythmically against his thigh.
Li Ke stood at the very front, his back straight.
Zheng Bo'an turned another page.
His brows did not furrow even once. Only his eyes moved through the lines of text.
Time passed little by little.
The assistant director below could not help craning his neck, trying to see what was written on the pages.
The attendant stood to one side with his hands hanging at his sides, his gaze lowered in perfect composure.
The chill left by the snow grew heavier.
Half a cup of tea passed.
A full half-cup of tea later, Zheng Bo'an’s two fingers were still pinching the page, holding it in the same position.
At last, Zheng Bo'an’s hand moved.
He flipped over the top sheet of yellow paper, along with the several pages beneath it, and placed them facedown on the desk.
Smack.
Several scions from prominent families seated in the front row immediately flinched.
Zheng Bo'an raised his head and looked at everyone present.
“‘The Great Vacuity’—those are words from the Zhuangzi.”
Zheng Bo'an began to speak.
“‘Gathering and dispersing’ is nothing more than the dregs of Wang Chong’s Lunheng.”
“Throughout these two thousand words, not a single sentence comes from the Five Classics.”
As soon as he uttered those three sentences, several assistant administrators and scholars from the Imperial College sitting below let out a long breath at the same time, their faces filled with disdain.
Zheng Bo'an lowered his gaze and looked at Li Ke.
“This is not Confucianism.” Zheng Bo'an spat out the three words, delivering his final verdict. “It is merely the ghost of Wang Chong, refusing to fade.”
With a single sentence, he denied the essay’s place in the Confucian school and the Way of the Sages, directly branding “A Treatise on the Great Vacuity Being Qi” as a heretical and heterodox work.
He did not bother to debate its reasoning. Instead, by tracing its intellectual origins, he cast it straight into the ranks of heresy.
Expulsion from the Confucian register—among scholars who belittled one another at every turn, this was the most ruthless weapon of all.
The entire audience fell utterly silent.
Although Liu Wenyuan had no idea what the essay said, he immediately let out a short, derisive laugh and shot Li Ke a sidelong glance.
More scions of prominent families began whispering among themselves, pointing at Li Ke.
“He picked up the scraps of Zhuangzi and Wang Chong, stitched them together, and actually dared bring them to the Imperial College to make a fool of himself.”
“If it can’t even be linked to the Five Classics, what kind of scholarship is it?”
Li Ke stood where he was. As the murmurs rose around him, his hands clenched tightly around the hem of his cotton robe.
Zheng Bo'an did not look again at the few sheets of yellow paper on the desk. Instead, he gripped the armrests of the rosewood chair and slowly rose to his feet.
An assistant instructor immediately stepped forward to support him, but Zheng Bo'an waved him away.
He walked to the front of the platform and looked down at the several hundred students gathered below.
“Go back.”
His voice rang out once more, drowning out the whispers beneath the stage.
“Examine the sources of this essay sentence by sentence.” Zheng Bo'an pointed at the copied manuscript on the desk. “In three days, each of you will submit an essay refuting its errors.”
“The best one will be posted outside the Examination Hall.”
With that, Zheng Bo'an turned around and began making his way down the stone steps along the side, one step at a time.
Seeing the Grand Libationer leave, the officials and students below also rose, straightening their robes and preparing to disperse.
The assistant administrator gave one of the attendants beside him a look, preparing to have him drive Li Ke away from the front.
Li Ke watched Zheng Bo'an’s retreating figure as he descended the steps.
He gritted his teeth and called out loudly.
“May I ask, Grand Libationer—”
The entire hall instantly fell silent.
Zheng Bo'an had reached the very bottom of the steps, the tip of his foot just touching the level ground.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to look at this low-ranking student.
Li Ke pointed toward the yellow papers lying facedown on the high platform.
“What if there is even one sentence in the essay whose source cannot be identified?”
Silence descended over the entire hall.
Liu Wenyuan strode out of the line and pointed at Li Ke. “You insolent fool! You—”
He did not finish.
Zheng Bo'an’s footsteps halted.
He stood with his back to the several hundred students, his back to Li Ke.
The wind lifted the hem of his blue scholar’s robe.
Zheng Bo'an did not turn around. Nor did he utter a single word in answer.
After a pause of two breaths, Zheng Bo'an raised his foot and stepped forward.
He passed the officials who had come to a standstill and walked straight toward the eight-bearer sedan waiting nearby.
He did not dare answer…!
……
Xu Zijin’s essay was, in truth, the beginning of Song-dynasty Neo-Confucianism. However, to speed up the plot, I used Zhang Zai’s theory of qi as the starting point.
Some readers may not be familiar with Zhang Zai’s theory of qi, but when I mention Zhang Zai’s famous Four Sentences of Hengqu—“To establish the mind for Heaven and Earth, to establish the destiny for the living people, to carry on the lost teachings of past sages, and to bring peace to the world for all future generations”—I’m sure everyone will understand, hehe~
After going back and forth on it, I decided to move the original text of Xu Zijin’s essay to an earlier point in the story—Chapter 590, before Chapter 587. I’ll post it in this chapter’s reader comments~
