Chapter 40 (1/2)

A Fight

Li Baimu stared at the bulletin wall. More and more students gathered around the wall and even some mentors came to check what the fuss was. After reading the poem, the mentors slapped their thighs, too taken by the words. They lauded the work’s simplicity and wisdom.

Li Baimu’s sharp ears picked up an ongoing conversation.

“First, we had a ‘Fear not a journey of loneliness’ and now, this poem on learning? Is there a breakthrough in Dafeng’s poetry scene?”

“In the past 200 years, good poems were few and far between. Now, we have two great poems. At least our generation of scholars can proudly face the next generation.”

“Compared to the previous poem, I believe this one will have better longevity. It will be frequently used to motivate scholars.”

“Why is there no author? Which Confucian scholar wrote this?”

‘No author… Better longevity…’ Li Mubai’s heart drummed excitedly. While his two best friends were occupied, he stealthily made his retreat.

“Brother Chunjing?” Zhang Zhen looked around and realized the man was gone.

“He was still here…” Chen Tai scanned his surroundings. Then, he pointed in the direction of the wall. “There!”

Zhang Zhen turned around and saw Li Mubai dispersing the students. He made it to the wall and took up a brush.

Zhang Zhen and Chen Tai focused their attention on the wall—their pupils deepened and details 100 meters away appeared crystal clear.

Besides the poem title—On Learning—Li Mubai had written a single line of words.

[Between the 37th and the 38th year, this poem was inspired by Mentor Mubai’s encouragement to study.]

It basically meant Li Mubai was the source of inspiration.

The two elders were shocked.

“Shameless old man! Put down that brush!”

…

There was a private chamber at the back of the academy. It was built against the mountainside—to the east was a six-layer waterfall, to the west was an evergreen bamboo forest.

Bamboos in the north were a rare sight. It was difficult to cultivate and propagate them. Only in the south could one witness the phenomenon of bamboo shoots growing from the ground after a stormy night.

The academy mentors had transplanted the bamboo plants and laboriously cared for them. It took 50 years of cultivation to achieve this lush bamboo forest.

Scholars were very much taken by bamboos. They praised the plant’s strength of character and likened it to humans.

The White Deer Academy headmaster had entered the room one day and saw the vibrant bamboo forest, unyielding to the seasons. ‘They are a representation of myself. This shall be my abode. Everyone, please leave.’

That was how the room became the headmaster’s private chamber.

Within the elegantly-designed tea room sat an old man in a hemp robe and a woman in a lavish dress. They were enjoying tea together. Outside the room, a row of armored soldiers was on guard.

The old man’s unkempt white hair cascaded freely down his back. The laugh lines and frown lines on his face were deep—when he smiled, the eye wrinkles had the other two beat.

Based on only appearance, it was hard to believe the weathered old man was the White Deer Academy’s headmaster.

The Confucian leader of this era.

The woman sitting across him was past her teens but her hair was tied into a straightforward spiral bun. A dazzling ornament held up the hairstyle. The styling was a sign of an unmarried woman.

She wore an ivory dress with exquisite embroidery patterns. The ends of her dress swept the floor.

The woman was fresh-faced and beautiful like an untainted lotus flower. Her clear eyes were cool as ice, showcasing the aristocratic aloofness.

No longer a child, the curves of her body stood out.

The crown princess’s voice sounded, light as a chime, “We’ve not met in half a year. The silvers in your hair have grown in abundance.”

The headmaster smiled as he sipped his tea. “Lines of frustration, they are.”

“Along the way, I heard some scholars…’Fear not a journey of loneliness, for you are not a stranger to the realm’!” The crown princess’s eyes flickered with emotions.