Chapter 842: Chivalrous Journey (Part 2)

Lingzhou, located in Beiliang Road, was truly the "Jiangnan beyond the Great Wall," not only prosperous but also possessing a rare scholarly atmosphere for the Northwest. For this reason, Lingzhou had been somewhat proud when compared to Liangzhou and Youzhou in previous years, often thinking, "Our military strength may be far less courageous and fierce than yours, but we have many more scholars here." Unfortunately, after a young scholar named Chen Wang emerged from Youzhou, Lingzhou's academic circles became somewhat dispirited. Although Sun Yin, who had left Lingzhou just a few days prior, had reached the high position of Right Libationer of the Imperial Academy in the capital, he was clearly still a long way behind Chen Shaobao, who held a central government post. However, such disputes did not affect small places like Huanghua County in Huansha Commandery. Huanghua County was a lower-tier county, situated in the westernmost part of Lingzhou. It was notoriously poor, and being in Lingzhou made it seem even poorer. The magistrate of Huanghua County found it agonizing every time he went to the provincial capital and met colleagues of similar rank. Despite its poverty, unlike Youzhou's dislike for poetry and books and preference for swords and spears, Huanghua County had dozens of villages, large and small. Aside from government-sponsored schools, almost every village had a private tutoring school, and wealthier villages and clans even had their own ancestral schools. Consequently, the sound of children reading was no less common here than in other parts of Lingzhou.

Li Xian was the most learned scholar in Lijiagou Village, a *juren* (provincial graduate) who had traveled all the way to the capital of Liyang. However, it was said he had failed the imperial examination, returning after a long journey. Logically, after passing the *juren* exam, it wouldn't have been difficult for him to find a position in the Huansha Commandery government. Unfortunately, it was bad timing; scholars from the Central Plains had flooded into Lingzhou, and someone had taken his teaching post. Li Xian, being from a poor family, couldn't afford to bribe his way in. Perhaps out of resentment, he simply returned to his home village and started a private school. With seven or eight children from his village attending, he barely managed to make a living, let alone save money for books. Furthermore, Li Xian actively admitted several children from other families into his school, not only waiving tuition fees but also providing them with two meals a day. As a result, many eligible young women from nearby villages who had once admired Li Xian were deterred by their parents' disapproval.

Today, Li Xian carried a small pot of wine to a neighboring village. There were no official roads between the villages, only a narrow dirt path about a *zhang* wide (approximately 3.3 meters). Whenever villagers met Li Xian, they would respectfully call him "Teacher Li," and he would always smile, respond, and exchange a few pleasantries. Li Xian arrived at a thatched cottage by a stream, enclosed by a fence. An old hen was foraging with her chicks, pecking around. Just as Li Xian pushed open the brushwood gate, he saw a familiar figure walking in the distance and smiled knowingly, waiting at the entrance. The old man walked slowly with a stoop, but he was full of vigor. In his hand, besides a jar of yellow wine sealed with mud, he also carried some food wrapped in oil paper. Like Li Xian, the old man was a private school teacher in the village. However, unlike Li Xian, he had been teaching for over twenty years. The elders in the surrounding native villages would often say, with great detail, that this man, surnamed Liu, was an outsider from the Central Plains, and his ancestors had been prominent. When he first arrived, he was very extravagant and quite impressive, but after all these years, his substantial family fortune must have been spent, or perhaps he was genuinely old now and couldn't straighten his back.

Compared to his fellow villagers, Li Xian knew more. There was no doubt that Mr. Liu was a survivor from the Spring and Autumn period. During the Hongjia migration northward, he passed through Beiliang and was supposed to continue north, following the Central Plains gentry into the Southern Court of Beimang. However, by the time Mr. Liu reached Beiliang, his family had been scattered: some died of illness, some were lost, some went mad. It seemed only Mr. Liu remained. Whether he survived an attempt to drown himself or some other incident, he had lived on in a dazed state. Li Xian didn't know the full truth, and Mr. Liu wasn't keen on recounting old, stale stories. In any case, he settled in Beiliang, started a private school, but due to his eccentric, rigid, and somewhat mystical personality, his school had always been deserted. If not for some strange medical skills that even local healers couldn't fathom, the old man would probably have starved to death long ago.

The person they were visiting with wine was also an obscure teacher in Huanghua County. It was this old man who had taught Li Xian his foundational "Three Hundred, Thousand" classics. The first kowtow Li Xian ever made in his life was to the tablet of the Confucian Saint Zhang and to this old man as his teacher. Now, looking back, this teacher's knowledge was truly neither high nor profound, certainly incomparable to the reclusive Mr. Liu. However, in Li Xian's eyes, now that he had achieved scholarly success, a teacher was simply "teacher," without adding a surname, unlike how he addressed Mr. Liu. The villagers, unlike Li Xian who believed in "a teacher for a day is a father for life," did not hold this poor, local private school teacher in such high regard. They preferred to call him by his nickname, "Baldy Wang." Some mischievous children, while working in adjacent fields or when the teacher borrowed money or asked for credit from their parents, would even dare to jokingly shout "Baldy Wang!" Whether they would be punished afterward was another matter; the village children were all thick-skinned and could run barefoot across the mountains, so a few spankings were nothing to them.

It was widely known that Li Xian's first teacher, Wang Changqing, and Mr. Liu did not get along. These two old men, of similar age but vastly different backgrounds, had argued from their middle age into their twilight years, quarreling every time they met. Generally, Mr. Liu's arguments were subtle and obscure, taking years for people to fully grasp, lacking immediate harshness. Wang Changqing, however, could effortlessly use local slang and proverbs, which were less refined but naturally more impactful than Mr. Liu's words. Yet, Mr. Liu always maintained a calm and unassailable demeanor. Their arguments often devolved into talking past each other, like a chicken talking to a duck or playing a lute to an ox, a routine they had engaged in tirelessly for over twenty years.

This time, Li Xian used money from his savings to buy a pot of fine "Green Ant" wine because his teacher's private school business had just been taken over by someone else, making him so angry that he fell ill in bed. The new young teacher was even younger than Li Xian, who was nearing thirty. Li Xian had met him once and found his speech impressive; he was an outside scholar. Unlike most scholars who went to Liang to enter government offices, this scholar seemed to dislike officialdom and was solely devoted to teaching. Why he specifically came to Beiliang to teach, only Heaven knew. There was also a rumor that this scholar had fallen in love at first sight with a young woman from this village at the Huanghua County market earlier, and that's why he had come all the way to settle in the village. Li Xian, both when he was studying and now teaching, was someone who kept to himself and didn't concern himself with outside affairs. He wasn't inclined to investigate this rumor, thinking that if it were true, they would be a talented scholar and a beautiful lady, and he was certainly willing to wish in his heart for the lovers to be united.

From the corner of his eye, Li Xian had already glimpsed the teacher who was thinking of going out to sunbathe. Upon seeing their two figures, he immediately retreated indoors, moving quite nimbly. Li Xian surmised he had gone back to bed to feign illness.

Li Xian and Mr. Liu entered the somewhat dim inner room together. Mr. Liu placed the yellow wine and food heavily on the small table and said gruffly, "Today there's wine and meat, Baldy Wang! If you can get up, then you and I will eat and drink it all. If you don't get up, I'll eat and drink it for you right in front of your face!"

Wang Changqing, lying on the bed, snorted coldly, "Yellow wine?"

Mr. Liu retorted angrily, "If not yellow wine, do you expect it to be your Beiliang's 'Green Ant' wine?! For me to drink 'Green Ant' wine, the sun would have to rise in the west! Drink it or not, I don't care!"

Li Xian, playing the peacemaker, chuckled, "Teacher, I brought a pot of 'Green Ant' wine, and Mr. Liu has braised meat. How does that sound?"

Only then did Wang Changqing slowly get out of bed, straightening his clothes after standing up.

Mr. Liu sneered, "A monkey dressed in human clothes."

Wang Changqing eyed him askance and retorted, "Look at this one I'm wearing—brand new! And I'll get another new one for the New Year. Now look at that robe of yours, patched year after year! Utterly disgraceful!"

Mr. Liu calmly replied, "To consider peace as wealth, late slumber as abundance, walking at ease as riding a carriage, late meals as meat, and a worn-out shirt as a fur coat—this is to find joy in simple living. To never change one's original intention throughout life is to achieve enlightenment through contentment in poverty."

Wang Changqing rolled his eyes, "Poor is poor. Are you now inventing philosophies for being poor?"

Mr. Liu sneered, "Unlike certain frogs in a well, I have traveled tens of thousands of miles in this life, observing divine principles in human affairs. I have also read tens of thousands of books, seeing human affairs through divine principles. Heh, arriving in this desolate Beiliang, I often see old scholars foolishly buried in old papers for decades, then stepping out the door and not knowing north from south. It's truly laughable, laughable. Especially those old papers—in the Central Plains, where farming and scholarship are family traditions, even ordinary children can recite them backward."

Too lazy to bother with Mr. Liu, Wang Changqing plopped down on a small stool, took the opened pot of "Green Ant" wine from Li Xian's hand, bent down, sniffed deeply, and said with a look of rapture, "Just this aroma alone is worth seven or eight *qian* of silver!"

In the light filtering through the dilapidated window, Wang Changqing and his student Li Xian drank "Green Ant" wine, while Mr. Liu drank his yellow wine alone. With one leg propped on the stool, the sparse-haired Wang Changqing indeed looked less like a proper teacher compared to the formally seated Mr. Liu. However, the refined demeanor of Li Xian, taught by Baldy Wang, was not much inferior to Mr. Liu's.

Wang Changqing poured two bowls of wine. Li Xian smiled and shook his head. Wang Changqing pointed at his proud student with a sigh of regret, "If you don't drink, how can you write great poems that will be famous for a thousand years?"

Mr. Liu retorted sarcastically, "Baldy Wang, you've drunk at least hundreds of pounds of wine in your life. Have you ever produced even half a decent essay? Although Li Xian can barely be considered half your student, he is a genuine *juren*. In my opinion, it's only because of his Beiliang identity that he didn't pass the *jinshi* exam. And you, Baldy Wang, think you can lecture him?"

Wang Changqing took a sip of "Green Ant" wine, wiped his mouth, and retorted defiantly, "I can't lecture him? And you, Mr. Bookworm Liu, can? What's so great about having a better family background and memorizing a few more books!"

Mr. Liu hesitated, then refrained from saying certain things, merely stating angrily, "Unreasonable!"

Wang Changqing took another big gulp of wine, then let out a burp. He picked up a piece of braised meat with two fingers, popped it into his mouth, and immediately felt completely at ease.

Li Xian, unable to resist his teacher's urging, drank a small half-bowl and his face flushed crimson.

The two old men silently competed in drinking and eating meat, one using his hand and the other chopsticks.

Mr. Liu, uncharacteristically tipsy, felt both a little embarrassed and a little proud. His eyes, in a hazy state, were full of reminiscence as he murmured to himself, "I regret not marrying a woman from the Ten Surnames, I regret not being a person of Great Chu..."

Baldy Wang gently nudged his slightly tipsy student with his elbow and quietly asked, "What's special about the Ten Surnames women?"

Li Xian smiled faintly, "In the Spring and Autumn period of old, there were ten great noble clans. It's probably from that allusion."

Baldy Wang chuckled, "Didn't our Great General reduce them all to mere grand-turtles?"

Wang Changqing's voice was not quiet, and Mr. Liu immediately glared at him.

Wang Changqing, having drunk more than half the pot of "Green Ant" wine, was now seven or eight parts drunk. He craned his neck and said, "What, are you unconvinced?! Don't think just because you're some kind of Spring and Autumn survivor that you can look down on us Beiliang people, truly believing yourself superior?! Hmph, I've tolerated you, Liu Mao, for many years! You used to always bring up how our Crown Prince was a wastrel, and back then I was blind enough to think the Crown Prince was inferior to the Great General and might not be able to bear the burden of Beiliang, so I joined you in a few insults. If you dare be sarcastic with me again today, see if I don't deal with you! If I can't deal with you, I still have Li Xian, my student!"

Mr. Liu, his eyes bloodshot, said softly, "So, if one can kill, one is extraordinary? What kind of logic is that in the world? Is it 'a general's success is built upon ten thousand corpses' as recorded repeatedly in history books? That's certainly not a scholar's reasoning."

Wang Changqing suddenly slammed his wine bowl down, splashing a small amount of "Green Ant" wine out of the large white bowl. Usually, Baldy Wang, who would drink every last drop when having a bowl of cheap wine at the market tavern, this time didn't care about the waste. He angrily shouted at Mr. Liu, "Whether the Great General's slaughter and the ruin of your Central Plains is 'logic,' I don't know! I only know that from the Great General to the New King of Liang, two generations of the Xu family have led from the front beyond this northwestern pass, blocking Beimang's million cavalry for your Central Plains! Even if, for argument's sake, the Great General owed you Spring and Autumn survivors, the New King of Liang and the Beiliang border army, this year, in this accursed Xiangfu second year, have paid off that debt for him and the Xu family! Zhao Shunzi from our village, Li Erwa from Li Xian's village, and two young lads from your village, Liu Mao's village—four people beyond the Beiliang Pass—only one survived. One died at Hutou City, two died at Hukou Pass! Zhao Shunzi, in his early twenties, just like me, Wang Changqing, was someone in your eyes, Liu Mao, who would never amount to anything, no matter how much he studied. And what's the result? The result is that I, Wang Changqing, and you, Liu Mao, you old bastard, are here leisurely drinking wine!"

Wang Changqing slammed his fist on the table. "The two of us who should have died didn't, and those who shouldn't have died did! What was it all for? Yes, Zhao Shunzi and the others didn't die for you, Liu Mao, or for me, Baldy Wang. But can't we remember their goodness? Can't you, Liu Mao, acknowledge the goodness of our Beiliang's 300,000 border troops?!"

Mr. Liu tilted his head back, took a gulp of wine. His face was calm, but his lips were ashen as he slowly said, "What's so difficult about remembering the goodness of those who died on the border? But for me to remember the goodness of the Xu family, why? My Liu family of Great Chu, over three hundred souls, died in the Hongjia migration north, leaving only me, Liu Mao. You're right about one thing: those who should have died didn't, and those who shouldn't have, all died!"

Wang Changqing roared, "Get lost! Liu Mao, I don't care how many of your people died back then!"

Mr. Liu suddenly stood up, smashed the jar of yellow wine, and strode away.

Li Xian hesitated for a moment, then ran out after him.

Mr. Liu's steps faltered. Li Xian tried to support him but was waved away.

Li Xian said in a hoarse voice, "Mr. Liu, perhaps only the elders in this village know that my teacher's two sons died in battle beyond the Liangzhou Pass long ago, and my teacher's wife also passed away because of it."

Liu Mao stopped by the stream.

Li Xian looked at the small stream. "When I went to the capital for the imperial examination, my teacher gave me all his savings. He said you, Mr. Liu, liked a set of 'Collected Talks on Window-side Slippers,' and he specifically told me to bring a set back for you from Tai'an City. But at the time, among the few of us who went to the capital together, one had to stay to continue taking the metropolitan examination. On impulse, I gave all my money to him, hoping he wouldn't be burdened by life in that capital city, which was hostile to us Beiliang people, and could study with peace of mind as much as possible. I didn't even dare to confess this to my teacher, because when I bid him farewell, he told me that no matter what, Mr. Liu possessed true scholarship, that he was a true scholar far superior to him, yet he had taught in Beiliang for twenty years. Therefore, Beiliang owed Mr. Liu, and Wang Changqing felt he should do something for him."

Li Xian softly said, "Mr. Liu carries the burden of national enmity and family hatred. My teacher would never dare to make you forget anything."

Li Xian looked around, "But we, Beiliang—the desolate place in Mr. Liu's eyes—never forget kindness! Never betray righteousness!"

Li Xian smiled, "I haven't met the Great General, nor the New King of Liang. But I have met my teacher Wang Changqing; I've met Li Erwa, who used to fish with me in the river; I've met Zhao Shunzi, who called me a bookworm and beat me when we were children. More importantly, I've met my teacher's two sons, and his wife... So I think, since we were born in Beiliang, it is only right that we should die in Beiliang. For us Beiliang people, who must directly confront the Beimang cavalry, as long as the border conflicts don't cease, it's actually very common for people to die every day, every year. Perhaps one day it will fall upon me, and I might feel unwilling, but fear is fear."

"Death is death! Because Beimang won't allow us Beiliang to merely survive. And we don't want to merely survive!"

"Mr. Liu, you said that in the Central Plains during the early Spring and Autumn period, people regretted not marrying women from the Ten Surnames, regretted not being people of Great Chu. Now in Liyang, people regret not being born in Jiangnan, regret not living in Tai'an."

Li Xian laughed freely, "As for me, Li Xian, a frail scholar, I only regret not dying in Liangzhou!"

The stooping survivor from Western Chu stared blankly at the receding figure of the young Beiliang scholar.

The old man suddenly leaned over the stream, plunged his head into the water, and took a big gulp.

Then he sat cross-legged and laughed heartily, "What fine wine!"

The old man turned and looked at the young man who was hurrying back, surely mistaken that Liu Mao was contemplating something desperate.

The old man continued to laugh.

On the contrary, Liu Mao had finally come to terms with things today.

Compared to the Central Plains, whether of the Spring and Autumn period or Liyang, Beiliang had fewer scholars and even fewer books.

But who says there is no spirit of chivalry in these very words?!