Edict of Peace 49
Chapter 49: Opening an Era of Peace! (Seeking First-Order Subscriptions!)
The bronze tripod violently trembled. In that instant, Li Guanyi seemed to hear the roar of dragons and tigers in his ears. He looked up and saw clouds gathering in the sky, tearing and swirling together, vaguely forming colliding torrents, so vast and magnificent.
It seemed as if it would swallow Li Guanyi whole.
Despite it being daytime, Li Guanyi seemed to see the light of the White Tiger asterism (a group of stars forming a tiger shape in Chinese astronomy). The convergence of literary and martial energies seemed to engulf the White Tiger asterism, and the internal energy within Li Guanyi unconsciously accelerated its flow.
Xue Daoyong’s voice pulled Li Guanyi back from this spectacular sight.
“Guanyi, Shuangtao, what are you dawdling for? Come and meet Master Wang.”
Li Guanyi stepped forward to pay his respects. The master smiled and nodded, saying, “Radiant and spirited, a fine young man.”
Xue Daoyong laughed heartily, walking arm in arm with the master.
And Changsun Wuchou naturally walked with Li Guanyi, introducing him to the guest.
This Guan Yi City literary gathering truly lived up to its reputation as the grandest in Chen Kingdom in thirty years. Numerous scholars, noble families, and representatives from various schools of Confucianism gathered around Wang Tong. Wang Tong had three disciples surrounding him; the oldest was just over twenty years old.
One was from the prestigious Qinghe Fang family, named Fang Ziqiao. He possessed a gentle and refined demeanor, calm and composed.
Changsun Wuchou chuckled, saying:
“The Qinghe Fang family is one of the most prominent clans in the land. Fang Ziqiao is the heir, the future head of the family.”
“He’s known for his calm and resourceful nature, already somewhat renowned.”
“The seventeen or eighteen-year-old is a member of the Du family from the capital of Ying Country, named Du Keming.”
Changsun Wuchou pointed a finger towards a young man with closed eyes.
Dressed in black, with sharp brows and eyes, his entire bearing was like a swift blade. Changsun Wuchou softly said: “Decisive and unwavering, he is also quite outstanding. Among Master Wen’s disciples, Fang Ziqiao excels in strategy, while Du Keming excels in judgment. I once heard from the strategist rankings…”
“That some say these two young men, separately, are still quite immature; one excels in strategy but lacks decisiveness, the other is decisive but lacks strategic depth. However, if they work together, they might make the list. They might even be a top-ten strategist combination in the future.”
“Having grown up together as sworn brothers, only they can truly collaborate effectively.”
A young man led the way, calmly saying, “Gentlemen, please be seated.”
Li Guanyi and Xue Shuangtao, due to Xue Daoyong’s influence, were seated in the front. Changsun Wuchou, quite at ease, sat beside Li Guanyi, picking up two delicate pastries and popping them into his mouth without a hint of constraint, making people feel instantly closer to him.
Chen Kingdom’s literary flourishing surpassed even that of Ying Country in the Central Plains, let alone other regions. These scholars and dignitaries all brought their children and grandchildren. Li Guanyi observed them and roughly guessed what was coming.
Sure enough, after some tea and music, Fang Ziqiao spoke:
“Today, my master, at the invitation of an old friend, has come to Guan Yi City to meet you all. This is already a grand literary gathering, but there is another matter. My master is proficient in the three religions and nine schools of thought, and has disciples in four schools of thought: strategy, judgment, and advice – all have disciples, but there is still one remaining, ‘momentum,’ for which he has yet to find a disciple to inherit his mantle.”
“Today, my master has come to find this disciple, his final student.”
The gazes of the numerous scholars changed.
Wang Tong’s reputation was extremely high, and he had many disciples from noble families in both Ying and Chen Kingdoms. For these people, this represented a tremendous resource and opportunity, so the elders all stood up while the young people remained seated at the table. Xue Daoyong patted Li Guanyi on the shoulder, saying:
“Guanyi, I believe in you.”
“Don’t worry, just do your best!”
Li Guanyi saw the scrolls laid out, apparently for composing essays. He scanned them, his eyes twitching—
1. “[Vast and boundless, the people cannot name it; majestic and towering, it has its achievements; radiant and brilliant, it has its literature.]”
2. “[Water, fire, gold, wood, earth, grain, only cultivation.]”
3. “[Given the topic ‘A scholar’s achievements start with understanding principles,’ and using the word ‘literature’ as a rhyme.]”
4. “[A moonlit night, wearing a ceremonial robe, boating on the river, composing with ‘looking around, laughing proudly, ignoring everyone else’ as the rhyme.]”
Li Guanyi: “…”
What is this?
What in the world is this?
Finished. It’s over.
He knew every single character, but put together, Li Guanyi had absolutely no idea what it meant. At this time, all the descendants of noble families, including Xue Shuangtao, began to answer the questions, largely by dissecting the sayings of the sages and applying them to the current situation.
Also, using the character “literature” as a rhyme to write a rhapsody.
Li Guanyi had to admit one thing: the systematic education that the children of noble families received for more than ten years was not in vain. Everyone was writing furiously. The young man sighed, picked up his pen, and wrote on the scroll, his writing elegant and flowing—a beautiful script.
Li Guanyi!
He wrote down his name.
It was like writing an answer to a riddle before.
At least he felt a little bit better. It wasn’t a completely blank sheet.
Then he put down his pen.
Sitting there, his back straight. While everyone else was writing furiously, he sat there alone, which attracted the attention of Fang Ziqiao, Du Keming, and the young man who had led them there. Not for any other reason, he was just too conspicuous.
Du Keming raised an eyebrow, pointing at the scroll.
Answering the questions, why are you looking at me?
Fang Ziqiao, dressed in white, walked up to the young man, bowing gently. “Brother Li, is there something troubling you? Why aren’t you writing?”
The young man answered directly, “I can’t answer it.”
The gentle scholar was taken aback, then smiled helplessly.
After a moment’s thought, when he came back, he brought the young man some pastries. “Then just sit here and watch them answer,” Fang Ziqiao’s voice was warm, looking at the three characters Li Guanyi had written, he praised, “Your writing is very good.”
With a smile, “If you need more tea, just tap lightly on the table.”
“It’s quite an experience.”
Li Guanyi started sipping his tea slowly, thinking about the changes in the bronze tripod.
He remembered what the “Si Ming” (the Fate Decider) of the Yin Yang School had said.
The convergence of the world’s winds and clouds?
This, conversely, attracted the attention of others, especially those noble descendants who had hoped to talk to the girl but had been interrupted by him. Their faces showed a slight relief—they had thought he was a person of both literary and martial excellence, but it turned out he was just a crude martial artist.
Their hearts could rest easy!
The examination lasted for a full hour. Finally, Li Guanyi finished his tea but couldn’t leave, so he sat quietly, closing his eyes and breathing. Outside, the scholars and literati chatted about various things. It was Fang Ziqiao and Du Keming who collected the scrolls, creating a thick pile.
All the scholars were there.
Wang Tong went to examine them. Xue Daoyong burst into laughter. “Hahaha, let’s look at my child’s first, hahaha. Gentlemen, no objections?” No one dared to object, only offering polite smiles. Turning over the scrolls, Wang Tong praised:
“Miss Xue Shuangtao, your words are articulate, and your essay has a heroic spirit.”
“Your rhapsody is also graceful and gentle, like the water vapor of Jiangnan. Among women of her age, there are few who surpass her in scholarship.”
The other scholars’ eyes held a trace of eagerness; they wanted to speak privately with Xue Daoyong.
Xue Daoyong waved his hand, saying frankly:
“My granddaughter is indeed excellent, but let’s see what my Qilin (Qilin) child has done.”
Wang Tong nodded with a smile, searching for the scroll.
Fang Ziqiao reached out to stop him. “…Old Xue, perhaps later.”
“The wine is warmed, and there is a second round of questions.”
Xue Daoyong laughed heartily, “Hahaha, you silly child, what’s there not to see?!”
“Come, come, let’s all enjoy it together!”
The elder, as if showing off his family’s prodigy, pulled out the scroll, unfurling it. Everyone was curious; what kind of talent could make Xue Daoyong, the lion of the chaotic times and descendant of the Xue State Duke, value so highly? They all looked, but the scroll was as white as snow; the only thing on it was a line of names, written in incredibly unique and powerful script.
Silence fell. Changsun Wuchou, who had been munching on Xinjiang melon seeds, froze.
“Huh???”
“Huh??!!”
How could someone with such strategic talent not be able to answer this?
For the sake of the noble families’ face, this question had to be simple.
After a long silence, someone stammered, “Well, the handwriting… is unrestrained and free-spirited!”
Fang Ziqiao gently said, “That young brother’s bearing is extraordinary; he must be greatly talented. In his youth, he’s arrogant and spirited, and likely looks down on the topic.” Everyone agreed, praising him repeatedly. Only Old Xue’s mouth twitched; in his heart, he was both amused and exasperated at this brat. Throwing the blank scroll away, he pretended to be angry, saying:
“Guanyi?”
“Get out here!”
The quiet young man named Wei Xuancheng pointed towards a pavilion in the distance. “He just finished and was taken away by a beautiful girl.”
Old Xue’s face paled, and he strode off, the others following behind, laughing.
Du Keming said, “You really know how to get to the point, Xuancheng.”
Wei Xuancheng said leisurely, “Hitting the nail on the head. I also wanted to see if that person really had talent, or if he came to freeload.”
The young man rubbed his wrists.
In one hour, he had brewed seven pots of tea.
The copper pot was heavy.
His wrists ached.
The three smiled and followed. This was their first meeting with that young man.
He was young, spirited, and self-assured—naturally arrogant.
Their first impressions weren’t particularly good.
When the group approached, slowing their pace, Master Wang Tong coughed lightly, and an aura spread out, concealing their movements. Martial artists were valiant, but scholars had their own methods. Martial artists were invincible in close combat, but they had to get close first.
The group saw the young man in a blue shirt sitting cross-legged amidst the flowers and bushes of the pavilion. The black blade was too heavy, so he had taken it off and held it in his arms. The elegantly dressed girl raised her eyebrows, pacing back and forth, suspiciously asking, “Guanyi, why didn’t you answer?”
Li Guanyi sighed and answered honestly, “I don’t know how, I didn’t even understand the questions.”
Xue Shuangtao looked at the young man, “You didn’t sound like you hadn’t read when you told stories from history.”
She had heard the low laughter of the noble families and spoke to refute them.
Then, annoyed, she pulled Li Guanyi aside to ask him. The young man was very relaxed, holding his sword and laughing, “I just don’t know.”
In the distance, Old Xue could only assume that Li Guanyi was not good at literature. Changsun Wuchou was curious, while the others secretly found it amusing. It was rare to see Old Xue suffer such a setback, which also gave them peace of mind. After all, with the elder’s status, if he wanted the title, it wouldn’t be difficult.
Wang Tong smiled gently, “Old Xue, it’s not good for us to eavesdrop on the children’s chat.”
Xue Daoyong readily agreed, “Yes, this boy is mischievous. Not answering was impolite.”
“This old man apologizes.”
Wang Tong smiled, “Not at all.”
“I have some fine tea from beyond the border, let’s share it, Old Xue.”
But Xue Shuangtao still didn’t believe it. She softly said, “[Vast and boundless, the people cannot name it; majestic and towering, it has its achievements; radiant and brilliant, it has its literature] is from the Book of Documents. It praises the achievements of ancient sage kings. This question is about praising the achievements of the current emperor.”
The current emperor?
Li Guanyi didn’t answer.
He couldn’t praise him; the 135 cash was still safely wrapped up.
If he saw the emperor, he wanted to throw that 135 cash in his face.
Holding the knife, he said, “Are the achievements of ancient sage kings still there?”
“No, they’re gone.”
“Yeah.”
“Ten thousand palaces have all turned to dust.”
The young man replied, “Prosperity and decline, it’s all the same, just a single phrase.”
“During prosperity, the people suffer; during ruin, the people suffer.”
Wang Tong, who was turning to leave, suddenly stopped.
Xue Shuangtao said, “This is…”
Most people said that when a country falls, the people suffer, but the weight of the first four words was even greater.
Li Guanyi smiled, “When I came…”
Xue Shuangtao picked up the conversation, “An old man recited it on the road, right?”
Li Guanyi applauded in approval, “Miss, you’re so clever; you already answered for me.”
“That old gentleman’s surname is Zhang.”
Xue Shuangtao didn’t believe this at all. Looking at Li Guanyi, she continued, “Let’s look at another question. Master Wang Tong said, ‘For a scholar to achieve greatness, he must first understand principles, then literature.’ This is asking about your aspirations and capacity. Any scholar can answer a few words.”
Li Guanyi flicked his sword, smiling slightly, “I am a martial artist.”
“I’m not good with words.”
Xue Shuangtao lightly kicked the young man’s leg.
Then she saw her grandfather, Xue Daoyong, discreetly making frantic eye contact from behind. Li Guanyi, with his back to the elder, didn’t notice due to Master Wang Tong’s scholarly aura and Xue Daoyong’s self-restraint. Xue Shuangtao thought for a moment and extended her hand.
A jade ring of gold and white jade rested in her fair palm. She smiled slightly, “Then, Mr. Guest.”
“This gold and jade ring will buy your aspirations. Tell me about them.”
“Is this a good deal?”
The young man smiled, “Alright.”
“On my way here, I met two gentlemen, and they each said a sentence.”
“Miss, do you want to hear the literary one or the martial one?”
Xue Shuangtao said, “What about the martial one?”
Li Guanyi pondered, “A true man, living between heaven and earth…”
“Should lift a three-foot sword and decide the fate of the four seas, achieving unparalleled feats!”
He spoke with a teasing tone, omitting the phrase, “How can one remain in obscurity for long?” Just the phrase, “lift a three-foot sword, achieving unparalleled feats,” was already supremely impressive.
Changsun Wuchou’s eyes flickered.
Xue Shuangtao nodded in understanding, curiously asking, “What about the literary one?”
“The literary one?”
Li Guanyi held his sword, his experiences and wandering journey of ten years flashing through his mind. He said serenely, “To establish a heart for the world, to establish a life for the people.”
A single sentence, yet brimming with boundless vision.
Fang Ziqiao’s smile faltered slightly.
“To continue the legacy of the sages.”
Du Keming raised his eyebrows.
The young man was about to casually utter the final sentence as a joke,
but he suddenly stopped. He didn’t know why, but something was blocking his heart, the countless letters from Qian Zheng, the old farmer selling his daughter, this damned world flashed before him, then surged like flames in his chest.
Now, the last sentence didn’t feel like a simple recitation.
The reason was laughable.
Because Li Guanyi truly understood the final sentence.
The previous three sentences were mere rote memorization.
When you read, you don’t understand the power of words. Only after a long time, after seeing many things, when education completes its cycle, the words recited in youth will strike the heart like a sharp sword.
Li Guanyi lifted his black blade, pointing it towards the sky and earth.
In that instant, he understood the weight of those words, so the last sentence erupted from his heart like fire. He softly spoke, for the first time speaking to the world, expressing his own voice—
“For ten thousand generations, to open an era of peace.”
Then the scholars were silent.
(End of Chapter)
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