Chapter Twenty-Four: As If Wanting to Speak of Some Sorrow

Morning ablutions were carried out as if Zhu Yingtai had completely forgotten her true identity, no different than any day before; though awkward moments still occurred from time to time. For instance, when it came to changing clothes, Liu Ping, uncertain about how far the Yin-Yang Mystical Qi technique could transform appearances, deliberately avoided the situation. This made Zhu Yingtai realize that Liu Ping certainly hadn’t forgotten the matter. No matter how tangled their feelings, knowing the truth was an unchangeable, unavoidable fact.

Yet, things weren’t as dire as they might have seemed. Liu Ping’s demeanor was upright and gentlemanly, and after saving her life the previous night, Zhu Yingtai felt no particular discomfort. She laughed and said it wasn’t necessary to be so cautious. But the heart of a woman is as deep as the ocean; Liu Ping couldn’t tell if Zhu Yingtai truly meant what she said—was it really so unnecessary?

After finishing their morning routine, they left their dormitory together and made their way to the academy.

The bell tolled, and all the students filed into the hall, awaiting the start of the lesson.

Zhu Yingtai sat in front of Liu Ping, while Wang Hong sat behind him. With two familiar faces nearby, Liu Ping felt a pleasant sense of camaraderie, almost as if he had recaptured the feeling of attending school in years past. Shortly after, the teacher entered.

The scholar who came in was elderly, his hair mostly white, and must have been at least fifty, yet his spirit was vigorous, his eyes bright, and his voice resonant. Over a hundred students in the hall could hear him clearly.

He spoke on the Doctrine of the Mean—“The virtue of the Mean is supreme.” The Doctrine of the Mean is the Confucian moral standard, focusing on the words “mean” and “ordinary.” The mean stands in the middle, avoiding extremes, neither leaning to one side nor the other, mediating and balancing. Adapting to circumstance, object, event, and place, the theory is perfect, rooted in human nature.

Though his words were not flamboyant, the students felt as if bathed in a spring breeze, each suddenly enlightened. As a modern person, Liu Ping initially harbored subconscious resistance and a sense of superiority toward these ancient theories. Yet, as time passed, he found the reasoning ever deeper, and dared not underestimate it in the slightest. Compared to the pseudo-Confucians and self-proclaimed experts of his previous life, these teachings were worlds apart.

After the lesson, he felt unsatisfied, shaking his head in admiration. No wonder so many would go to great lengths to enter Tianqi Academy—not just for credentials or connections, but for the rare and talented teachers whose knowledge was beyond imagination.

Tianqi Academy did not only teach Confucianism, but also the six gentlemanly arts—rites, music, archery, charioteering, calligraphy, and mathematics.

These six were crucial. The imperial civil service exams included questions on mathematics and rites. The others, though not tested, were equally useful in later life.

The system of this world was commendable, especially its attitude toward mathematics.

In ancient China, merchants were suppressed largely for one simple and laughable reason: officials did not understand mathematics.

This is no joke. Their ignorance led to relentless suppression, dragging down the entire economic system—a grievous issue. But in this world, mathematics was part of the civil service exams. Officials understood management and would not suppress merchants. Though the rule that businessmen could not take the imperial exams remained, the encouragement fostered economic prosperity. The Grand Xia dynasty’s economy flourished, foreign and western trade brought immense wealth, and extended the nation’s legacy.

In ancient China, although mathematics was a subject for officialdom, strict rules ensured only specialists took those exams, and after selection, their posts were limited to relevant departments with little real power.

A day passed quickly, dusk approached, and fatigue crept in. Zhu Yingtai turned back and said, “Fengchang, in a few days, shall we go to the temple to pray for blessings?”

“The temple? Praying for blessings? You believe in that?” Liu Ping, bored, rested his chin in his hand. “Besides, I’m a Taoist—unlike those bald monks…” But seeing her plaintive gaze, he changed his tone, “Alright, I’ll go, is that enough?”

Zhu Yingtai laughed, “Hehe, I knew you’d agree, Fengchang—you always yield to gentle persuasion.”

Liu Ping responded gloomily, “Are you taking advantage of me?”

Three days passed in the blink of an eye, and it was the day when the academy’s minor exam results were posted. Students crowded beneath a giant wall, searching for their scores.

Liu Ping, Zhu Yingtai, and Wang Hong went as well. As expected, Zhu Yingtai’s name stood proudly at the top—first place.

Liu Ping’s name was fifth.

“Fifth.” Seeing his rank, Liu Ping breathed a sigh of relief, though his emotions were mixed—he wasn’t sure if he felt disappointed or pleased.

“I’m seventy-ninth! Damn! Is this the result of relaxing too much?” Wang Hong was deeply frustrated.

Zhu Yingtai saw her own name in first place, frowned slightly, and turned to Liu Ping, “How can this be? I’m actually first?”

Liu Ping smiled, “I told you you’d be first, but you wouldn’t believe me.”

The scholars discussed the results in surprise. Zhu Yingtai? That name sounded familiar. Wasn’t it that extraordinary, handsome fellow? No one expected him to take first place!

Many scholars gathered around Zhu Yingtai, eager to converse, but she felt impatient. Rather than wasting time with them, she would have preferred to visit the temple with Liu Ping. Yet, she couldn’t easily refuse without offending them, and so she was left in a difficult position.

Just then, the burly, dark-faced Lu Liang came up to Liu Ping and sneered, “I’m second. Didn’t expect Zhu Yingtai to snatch first place—he’s got some skill. Still, how is it that the renowned prodigy Liu is only fifth? Maybe the teachers are all blind?”

Liu Ping kept a straight face, “I am not particularly talented, and fortunate to secure a place at the top. As I’ve said before, I accept the ranking wholeheartedly—how could I presume to criticize the teachers?”

Lu Liang was about to retort when suddenly—smack! The ruler struck his head.

“Ow!” Lu Liang was furious—who dared hit him? Was someone courting death? He turned, and his heart sank—it was Master Li. His dark face paled.

“Are we all blind, you say? Repeat that!” Master Li scolded sternly, silencing the students nearby.

“I wouldn’t dare…” Lu Liang lowered his head.

Master Li was merciless, “Hands out!”

Lu Liang extended his palm and received five or six sharp smacks. His hand swelled, but he dared not resist.

Master Li said, “Disrespecting your elders warrants expulsion, but since this is your first offense, I’ll only punish your hand. Now, tell me—do you accept this?”

Lu Liang hurriedly responded, “I accept, and won’t speak rashly again. Please forgive me, sir.”

With a cold snort, Master Li turned away.

Lu Liang’s face was grim, nearly in tears. A simple joke with Liu Ping had left a bad impression on Master Li—how unlucky could he be? He shot Liu Ping a resentful glare and left quickly, ignoring the sympathetic looks of his peers.

At last, Zhu Yingtai escaped the crowd and came to Liu Ping’s side, asking, “What just happened?”

Liu Ping replied with a smile, “Just a minor incident…”

“Let’s go,” Zhu Yingtai said. “No classes today—let’s head for the temple.”

Liu Ping nodded, glanced at Wang Hong, and asked, “Zhongbo, care to join?”

“No… I need to study hard. With these scores, how can I face my parents?” Wang Hong looked as miserable as Lu Liang had moments before, so Liu Ping didn’t press further and let him be.

Tianqi Academy was located in the county seat of Zhang County, Yangzhou. The most famous temple there was Renhe Temple, renowned for its prosperity, countless devotees, and monks who were all plump and wealthy. In contrast was Qingshan Temple—though one had to know its name to recognize it.

They’d expected to visit bustling Renhe Temple, but instead rode out to a more secluded monastery.

Qingshan Temple, nestled halfway up the mountain, could almost be described as deserted. Yet some sincerely devout followers braved the difficult journey each month to burn incense, make offerings, and donate funds, keeping Qingshan Temple afloat.

So when the abbot learned that two scholars in blue robes had come, he personally came out to greet them.

“I am the abbot of this temple, Dharma name Jiechen. Greetings to both benefactors.” Wearing a somewhat tattered robe, the skinny old man pressed his hands together and bowed to Liu Ping and Zhu Yingtai.

“Greetings, Abbot,” Liu Ping and Zhu Yingtai replied.

Zhu Yingtai said, “Abbot, I’ve come to trouble you again. Last time, your sermon cleared away my heart’s obstacles and brought clarity to my thoughts. I am deeply grateful.”

The abbot replied, “It wasn’t my doing—it was your own insight. No need to thank me.”

Zhu Yingtai said, “Even with insight, without guidance, how could I have found clarity? Who else should I thank?”

The abbot pressed his palms together, saying, “You overpraise. As honored guests, I will personally show you around. Please, follow me.”

“Thank you, Abbot,” Zhu Yingtai replied.

As they toured the temple, listening to the old monk’s explanations, Liu Ping and Zhu Yingtai soon arrived at the Great Hero Hall.

“Why is the Great Hero Hall called so?” Liu Ping suddenly asked.

Zhu Yingtai shot him a disdainful look—how could he not know this?

The abbot chuckled, “The Great Hero is an honorific for the Buddha. ‘Great’ means embracing all things; ‘Hero’ means subduing demons. Because Shakyamuni possesses complete enlightenment and wisdom, able to command the universe, Buddhists honor him as the Great Hero. The ‘Treasure’ in the hall refers to the Three Jewels—the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha.”

Liu Ping nodded, then asked, “What exactly are the Three Jewels?”

Zhu Yingtai had to interject, “Fengchang, your question is a bit rude.”

“No harm done,” the abbot gently shook his head. “Since the benefactor is so eager to learn, how could I not explain?”

“The Three Jewels are the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha.

“The Buddha Jewel refers to the teacher Shakyamuni, who attained enlightenment, and also to all Buddhas throughout space and time.

“The Dharma Jewel is all the teachings of the Buddha, including the Tripitaka, the twelve canonical texts, and the eighty-four thousand methods.

“The Sangha Jewel is the community of monks who faithfully practice the Buddha’s teachings, spread the Dharma, and guide all beings.”

Listening to the explanation, Liu Ping uttered a few appreciative sounds.

As they spoke, they soon arrived beneath the gilded Buddha statue. Zhu Yingtai pressed her hands together and prayed devoutly.

Liu Ping, meanwhile, was captivated by the murals nearby—the wall depicted countless celestial maidens scattering flowers. Among them, a young girl with loose hair gathered blossoms, her smile gentle yet forced, her gaze tinged with sorrow, lips parted as if about to confide her troubles…