Chapter 390: Wooden Sword Wen Xiaoer, Bowing Back and Forth

Wen Hua, still carrying his wooden sword, felt disgruntled throughout his journey. He had finally made his way from Northern Mang into Liyang territory, originally planning to head to Northern Liang first to deliver the complete set of erotic prints he had painstakingly saved up for Xiao Nian. However, Old Man Huang strictly forbade it, insisting that if Wen Hua wanted to deliver them, he would have to run off and do it himself. Wen Hua was furious. Penniless, the wandering swordsman was prepared to walk to Northern Liang on foot. Unexpectedly, Old Man Huang threatened that if he left, they would never meet again in the capital. Wen Hua cursed him loudly but still insisted on going to Northern Liang. Then, uncharacteristically, Old Man Huang softened his tone, saying they would meet sooner or later, perhaps even in the capital. This changed Wen Hua’s mind.

The two bought a rickety carriage. Wen Hua, accustomed to hardship, was content with it. Yet, after only a few miles, he urged Old Man Huang to abandon the carriage, reasoning that as martial artists, they should continually hone their physiques and simply lead the horse on foot. Old Man Huang knew perfectly well that this rascal merely wanted to ride the horse alone to flaunt his petty prestige. He initially refused but eventually succumbed to Wen Hua’s incessant nagging. He had no choice but to buy him a mule. To this day, the down-and-out wanderer, who still only possesses a wooden sword, is not particular. He rides the mule as if it were a magnificent steed, still strutting proudly. Along the way, he attends to the mule’s every need—eating, drinking, and defecating—with more enthusiasm than he ever showed while working as a teahouse assistant, much to Old Man Huang’s constant annoyance.

With the mule beneath him, and feeling more than ever that he owned the world with his wooden sword in hand, Wen Hua asked with a cheeky grin, "When we get to the capital, who should I spar with? Let’s be clear, when I used to fight in ring contests to win a bride, Xiao Nian always carried me away when I got knocked out. Don’t leave me to die this time."

Old Man Huang, driving the horse, calmly replied, "Bai Jiangshan of Dongyue Sword Pool."

Wen Hua gasped, then chuckled. "Dongyue Sword Pool? I’ve heard they’re incredibly powerful. Can we pick someone else? It’s not that I’m afraid of them, but when masters spar, I should at least warm up first, right?"

Old Man Huang scoffed, "Alright, Qi Jiajie."

Wen Hua cautiously asked, "What does he do? Which of the eighteen martial arts does he practice?"

Old Man Huang irritably said, "The capital’s top swordsman."

Wen Hua smiled ingratiatingly, "Old Man Huang, didn't I ask you to find a slightly less formidable master? Their names are too grand; it’s not suitable."

Old Man Huang asked, "Find someone with a smaller reputation?"

Wen Hua nodded vigorously and shamelessly. "Let’s take it slow, step by step. You can’t get fat in one bite, right?"

Old Man Huang also nodded. "Then how about a woman named Cuihua? She’s a swordsman’s maid. Is that acceptable?"

Wen Hua was too embarrassed to refuse again. After thinking it over, he figured how formidable could a maid be? He patted his chest boastfully and declared, "Alright, why not? A man can’t say no!"

Old Man Huang glanced sideways, and Wen Hua was infuriated by the look. He raged, "So what if I’m an innocent virgin who’s never had a taste of the flesh, so what?! You bring me a girl with a slender waist, big breasts, and a big butt!"

Old Man Huang calmly said, "Alright, I’ll find you one."

Wen Hua asked tentatively, "You’re not fooling me? Don’t string me along; I’ll hold a grudge against you my whole life!"

Old Man Huang simply didn't bother to speak.

Wen Hua chuckled hopefully for a moment, then asked somewhat wistfully, "Old Man Huang, what level am I actually at? You only taught me two sword forms, and I started practicing late. Can I really beat others? Give me the lowdown, do I even have a third-grade cultivation?"

Old Man Huang chuckled, "Third-grade?"

Wen Hua instantly shivered at the word "chuckle." While scared, he also missed the girl who, for some reason, couldn’t leave that small teahouse. Her temper was a bit bad, but she didn’t talk much, which was quite rare for a woman. Wen Hua tried not to think about her and cautiously asked, "Then I must be at fourth-grade, right?"

Old Man Huang impatiently said, "What’s the point of bothering with all that? When you face an enemy, just deliver one sword. If one doesn’t work, deliver a second. If you can’t beat them, then get lost."

Wen Hua made a habitual gesture, touching his crotch, and sighed, "Damn it, I talked with Xiao Nian for ages just to come up with a few majestic titles like 'Number One Swordsman in the Central Plains.' Looks like even if I make a name for myself in the capital, I’ll definitely be called 'Wen Two Swords' or 'Wen Two Strokes' or something."

Old Man Huang chuckled, "Wen Two Swords, Wen Two Strokes, aren't those good names? Or how about 'Wen Erliang' (Wen Two Ounces)? 'Wen Xiao’er' (Wen the Waiter) would also work."

Wen Hua’s seven orifices smoked with rage as he cursed, "Your grandma’s two ounces, your waiter!"

Old Man Huang sighed, "Two swords aren’t enough? That’s a lot. If Li Chungang hadn’t been delayed by the Two Sleeves Green Serpents back then and had directly entered the Sword Immortal realm of 'One Sword Opening the Heavenly Gate' earlier, he wouldn’t have faced such a tragic fate later. And Deng Tai’a going to the East Sea now, isn’t he aiming for 'Ten Thousand Swords Returning to One Sword'?"

Wen Hua was displeased to hear this. "Old Man Huang, it’s really not right for you to criticize these two old and new sword gods like that."

The old man smiled freely, ignoring him. He glanced at the carefree, novice wanderer. *Two swords to one sword, the difference between heaven and man. Can you really cross that hurdle I’m helping you build, kid? When the time comes, will you choose to be a Land Immortal Swordsman, or will you choose that 'Yellow Millet Dream'?*

The former emperor of Liyang once said, "All the talents of the Spring and Autumn Period have fallen into my net." The area outside the eastern wall of the palace, where the Six Ministries and other government offices were located, was playfully called "Zhao Family Pot" by the capital’s residents. High-ranking officials gathered there, and every morning and evening, the carriages entering and exiting the offices carried "carp" that had leaped over one or even multiple "dragon gates." The Hanlin Academy’s ability to occupy its own space in the "Zhao Family Pot," where an inch of land was worth a thousand pieces of gold, and to maintain good relations with the Six Ministries, showed how refined and extraordinary those Hanlin scholars were. Grand Secretary Zhang Julu came from here, remaining in obscurity for twenty years before finally making his move, which further boosted the confidence of over forty Hanlin officials of varying ranks. Moreover, this auspicious place, which had produced many famous officials, recently saw the rise of Jin Lantang, who became a close confidant of the emperor, making it even more desirable. Unfortunately, this place was not somewhere anyone could get into by simply trying their hardest.

However, most Hanlin scholars, after enduring a few years, gradually moved into key positions in the Six Ministries. There were also some stubborn old trees who sat in their positions for decades without progress, possessing great knowledge but lacking the ability to convert their good reputation into actual official titles, ranks, and tangible wealth. At most, they secretly earned some small fees for writing, which was ironically amusing because these fees were typically paid in silk or white rice, as the writers did not directly handle gold or silver. This showed how much these pedantic Hanlin scholars cherished their reputations. Hanlin scholars were not easily augmented. Jin Lantang was once an exception; after he, a Grand Hanlin, left the Hanlin Academy to serve as Imperial Diarist, a Junior Hanlin from an aristocratic family had to expend countless family connections to get promoted. The vacant Junior Hanlin position remained open, causing central authorities with excellent offspring to fiercely compete. It was said that the Vice Minister of Personnel almost came to blows with the General of Light Chariots after leaving the court assembly.

However, for those who were already Hanlin scholars, these were merely amusing anecdotes for their leisure time. Perhaps the only one not laughing was Song Keli. Old Master Song had died of anger, his reputation tarnished in his later years. Second Master Song also had to resign as Right Libationer of the Imperial Academy, closing his doors to visitors. What little he had gained in his open and secret struggles with Left Libationer Lu Daolin suddenly crumbled, turning to smoke. As for the young phoenix of the Song family, he had not yet been affected, but his position in the Hanlin Academy was precarious. Those who had previously seemed like true friends, treating him with gentlemanly respect, gradually distanced themselves, their attitudes more fickle than a woman’s. Only one person, a laughingstock of the Hanlin Academy, who had merely been an acquaintance of Song Keli's, now, with the phoenix fallen, approached him actively. Today, he again brought a pot of mediocre apricot wine to discuss scholarship with Song Keli. In the Liyang court, only the Hanlin Academy allowed daytime drinking; as long as it didn’t delay official duties, even deep snoring was acceptable. A few years ago, His Majesty the Emperor visited one winter day without warning and saw a drunken Hanlin scholar muttering poetry in his sleep. Others were terrified and dared not speak, but the emperor, known for his diligence, merely smiled, draped a fox fur coat over the man, and candidly told the other Hanlin scholars, "I cannot allow myself to be lax, nor other officials to be lazy, but I can tolerate your arrogance stemming from your talent." This became a widely spread tale of commendation throughout the court and country.

Song Keli, having nothing to do, was engrossed in a much-read copy of "Records of Dawn and Dusk." The old Hanlin, said to be over fifty but looking like a man in his forties, smiled and sat down, placing the wine pot on the desk. Song Keli looked at this senior Hanlin, the least skilled at politicking in the Academy, and couldn’t help but sigh. He wasn’t particularly grateful, just a little helpless. It was true that unforeseen circumstances could arise, but for his family to experience such a sudden reversal of fortune, from prosperity to disaster, left Song Keli, who had enjoyed smooth sailing since birth, very confused. His future was bleak and uncertain, so he was not in the mood for drinking. Yet this old man, so lacking in tact, came to him for drinks every now and then. Fortunately, he didn’t talk much. Song Keli knew he had a speech impediment, but his calligraphy was unique, blunt yet strong, entirely opposite to his father’s "Official Song Font" which had once been popular throughout the court. When the Hanlin Academy had unpleasant tasks, colleagues liked to push them onto this person. This eccentric man named Yuan Pu was easy-going and accepted all requests. Rumor had it he had no children, and unlike other Hanlin scholars, he didn’t readily adopt grand titles like "Master" or "Hermit" for himself. Since Song Keli entered the Hanlin Academy, he had never seen him go to brothels with friends for drinks, nor had anyone ever come to him seeking favors. Although gentlemen do not form cliques, someone as utterly solitary as Yuan Pu was rare.

Perhaps self-conscious about his speech impediment, Yuan Pu, still a junior Hanlin at an advanced age, saw that Song Keli wasn’t drinking and continued to drink alone. Song Keli couldn’t bear his demeanor anymore. He put down his book and softly asked, "Yuan Huangmen, forgive my frankness, but are you trying to seek future advantage from my family’s current misfortune? Thinking that if the Song family ever rises again, I’ll remember your kindness during this time?"

The old Hanlin smiled and shook his head.

If it were anyone else, Song Keli wouldn’t have easily believed it, but for some reason, seeing this man, he believed him implicitly. So Song Keli grew even more curious and couldn’t help but ask, "Then why are you inviting me to drink now?"

Yuan Pu, who was slow of speech, picked up a brush and spread out paper. His strokes were light, never deliberately pursuing deep impressions, yet written with controlled urgency and pace. After finishing, he put down the brush and turned the Xuan paper around. Song Keli read it: "When a common man’s courage is without courtesy, it leads to disorder. When a scholar’s courage is without righteousness, it leads to national chaos. A gentleman’s courage is not in conquering others, but in conquering oneself."

Song Keli said bitterly, "Are you saying I am weak? But I am insignificant, how can I turn the tide? His Majesty is furious; my father not only closes his doors to visitors but also remains silent at home. What can I do?"

The old Hanlin, who looked not old but was quite aged, picked up his brush again, turned the Xuan paper, which was already mostly blank, and continued to write another sentence. "A scholar has three things he must not disregard: managing a family without first cultivating oneself; governing a state without first managing the family; and bringing peace to the world without first governing the state."

Song Keli pondered for a moment, then shook his head, saying, "The Confucian ideal of 'self-cultivation, family regulation, state governance, and world peace' is not like bear paws and shark fins, which cannot be had simultaneously."

Yuan Huangmen pressed one hand on the Xuan paper, rotated it, then smiled and wrote the words "儒教" (Confucianism) on the paper. He lightly pressed the tip of his brush, heavily crossed out the character "教" (teaching/doctrine), and added the character "家" (family/school). Song Keli nodded, not refuting this.

This person wrote another line: "The distinction between public and private interests is the gateway between humanity and depravity."

Song Keli was not stupid; he understood immediately and drew inferences. "Yuan Huangmen means that the word 'public' also has different levels? And I not only lack even the 'small public' spirit but only harbor selfish intentions?"

The old Hanlin nodded. A scholar who was not utterly ignorant of human nature and worldly affairs would be so direct? Scholars valued reputation and face, as it was a thousand years ago, and would undoubtedly remain so a thousand years later.

Song Keli was hit where it hurt. He smiled mournfully. This time, he truly wanted to get completely drunk and forget everything. He grabbed the wine pot, poured a full cup, looked up, and drank it all.

Yuan Huangmen patiently wrote another line: "The inherent warmth and coldness of human hearts are not a flaw of the world’s ways." Then he pointed the tip of his brush to his own head, and then to his heart.

Song Keli softly asked, "Yuan Huangmen means I should keep it in my mind, but let it go from my heart."

Yuan Huangmen nodded with satisfaction, ready to put down his brush, but after a thought, slowly wrote a fourth line: "The decline and fall of nations and families cannot escape the roots of gradual accumulation. The rise of nations and families is inseparable from the merits of gradual accumulation."

"Thank you, Master Yuan, for teaching me. Song Keli will never forget this in his life." Song Keli stood up, tears streaming down his face, and bowed deeply.

Yuan Pu did not speak. He just took a sip of wine, bent down to gently blow on the ink until it dried, then flipped the paper over, took a stiff-bristled brush, and wrote in tiny, fine script, "Do you know whose hand caused the downfall of the Song family?"

After sitting back down, Song Keli turned, wiped his tears with his sleeve, took a deep breath, and calmly said, "To see mountains as mountains and water as water. It must be that Prince Jing’an, Zhao Xun."

The older Hanlin writing and the younger one speaking made for a strange and intriguing scene.

*If you gain power and the instruments of state, and public and private interests conflict, will you seek revenge to vent your hatred?*

"No!"

*If you become a pillar of the court, and public and private interests do not conflict, will you seek revenge to vent your hatred?*

"It depends on the circumstances and the situation. Whatever benefits the nation and the people, I will do. Even if Master Yuan considers me someone with grand ambitions but limited talent, I am willing to work for the world. This truly comes from Song Keli’s heart."

*The scholar has three disregardings; do you still shake your head now?*

"Never again."

Yuan Huangmen put down his brush, rubbing the ink off his fingertips. Finally, he spoke in a hoarse, indistinct voice, "Song Keli, you understand the principles because you are very smart; many things you grasp instantly. But I still have one more question for you: can you endure humiliation and live in obscurity for ten or twenty years?"

Song Keli replied without hesitation, "If Grand Secretary Zhang could do it, why can't I?"

Yuan Huangmen articulated his words with great difficulty, his speech slow like an old turtle crawling. "Your father will confess his sins and return to his hometown, never to serve as an official again."

Song Keli’s face turned pale.

Yuan Huangmen continued expressionlessly, slowly twisting the knife in the young phoenix Song’s heart: "Zhang Julu could still lie low and build momentum in the Hanlin Academy, ultimately receiving an inheritance from the old Grand Secretary. But you won’t even be able to be a junior Hanlin."

Song Keli’s mind went blank. He knew that such a tragic outcome was only a slight possibility, certainly not something the old Hanlin could make come true with a single word, but hearing it was like rolling thunder.

Yuan Huangmen rose, a mocking smile on his face, and said, "Which scholar doesn't know how to write a few beautiful essays? Who doesn't understand a few grand principles? Who doesn't claim to be a suppressed talent? You, Song Keli, should have been kicked out of the Hanlin Academy in the first place."

He came with wine and left with a flick of his sleeve.

Song Keli slowly rose and softly said to the old Hanlin's back as he crossed the threshold, "Thank you again, Master Yuan, for teaching me."

That day, Yuan Huangmen, who was ridiculed by countless colleagues who viewed the Hanlin Academy as a mere stepping stone, knocked on the brass ring of a side door after the imperial palace’s night curfew. The old eunuch, who had just retired as chief of the Imperial Household Department, opened the door and bowed so low his hands almost touched the ground. He had no words and no escort. Probably not even the old eunuchs who had served in the twelve departments for decades knew that within the strictly hierarchical imperial palace, there was a direct path from a side door straight to the emperor’s residence. There was no one visible along the way. Yuan Huangmen walked leisurely to the emperor’s quarters, and even when the Zhao family emperor, hastily donning his robes, walked down the steps, no one else appeared.

This Emperor of the Liyang Dynasty, seeing the half-mute Yuan Huangmen, smiled and bowed, saying, "Greetings, Master." Who in the world could receive such a bow from the Son of Heaven? The emperor took a few steps closer and softly asked, "Have you found a candidate?"

This old Hanlin, who had cut off half his tongue, nodded and said calmly and indistinctly, "Song Keli."

The Zhao family emperor was relieved, not bothering to ask why. Because this person before him had been regarded by Xun Ping simultaneously as a confidant and a great enemy, ultimately using him to destroy Xun Ping. He orchestrated the "Eight Dragons Contending for the Heir" event, supporting the current emperor Zhao Jian onto the throne and leaving the old Prince Jing’an Zhao Heng to die with lifelong resentment. He was the mastermind behind the "White Robe Case," promoted Zhang Julu, secretly ordered the Northern Liang King to retreat, framed Prince Jiaodong Zhao Sui, and suggested marrying the Northern Liang Crown Prince to the imperial princess. He confined Gu Jiantang to the position of Minister of War for eighteen years, enticed Old Master Song to hide copies of memorials, and proposed that Prince Zhao Kai go to the Western Regions with a certain bottle. Internally, he used both Confucian and Legalist methods; externally, he revered Taoism and rejected Buddhism. He even made the supreme ruler call himself a mere puppet, and was checkmated by Northern Liang’s Li Yishan with sixty-seven moves.