Xie Shaoling stood his ground. He did not take the tea, nor did he sit. He looked directly at Grand Preceptor Dong, his posture distant.
“I have come today to apologize to the Grand Preceptor.” His voice was faint but resolute. “At the Qionglin Banquet—I will not be impeaching Chancellor Gu.”
Silence suddenly smothered the room.
Lord Cao’s aged hand trembled, and his teacup clattered to the floor. The hot tea splashed onto his robes, making him let out a sharp “Ow!” of pain, but no one in the room paid him any mind.
Lord Liang slammed his hand on the table and stood up. “Absurd! The Pure Stream of the entire world is looking to you, and you choose to retreat at the last moment?!”
Lord Guan added coldly, “Could it be that ‘Gu the Cat’ gave you some benefit? Are you planning to switch sides and join his camp?”
Only Grand Preceptor Dong remained as steady as a mountain. He studied Xie Shaoling and said slowly, “Shaoling, I remember you once said, ‘To live for benevolence and righteousness in the morning, what more could one ask even if they die by evening?'”
His gaze was like a torch, locking onto the young scholar. “Why the change of heart?”
The flame in the lantern flickered, casting long, dark shadows over everyone’s faces.
Facing the accusations and questioning of his elders, Xie Shaoling’s expression remained unchanged. He said softly, “A friend told me that if I impeach Gu the Cat at the Qionglin Banquet, it will only result in a superficial wound for him while costing me my life. It is simply not worth it.”
“Not worth it?” Lord Liang, possessed of a fiery temper, pointed a finger at Xie Shaoling’s nose and roared, “This is the great matter of purging a traitor for the country! How can you measure such a thing by whether it is ‘worth it’?”
Grand Preceptor Dong pressed his hand down to signal Liang to be quiet. He stared at Xie Shaoling. “Where is this friend of yours from? Who is he?”
The corners of Xie Shaoling’s lips quirked up, his gaze becoming distant, as if he were seeing a phantom through the tea steam. “He is a Transcendental Immortal from the heavens.”
Grand Preceptor Dong’s face stiffened. He had certainly not expected such an answer.
Lord Liang couldn’t understand the riddle. He slammed the table again, making the cups rattle. “You brat! Do you have any idea what we were just discussing?!”
“That Gu the Cat is utterly lawless! Without the consensus of the Six Ministries, he has dared to divert two hundred thousand catties of cotton from the Ministry of Works!”
“And that’s not all!” Lord Guan added indignantly. “Do you know? Gu the Cat has privately reduced taxes for merchants! He is trying to bypass the Ministry of Revenue and seize sole control over the state’s finances!”
Xie Shaoling knew Gu the Cat was wicked, but he hadn’t realized he was this brazen. A cold sneer touched his eyes. “Diverting the national treasury, reducing taxes privately… What a magnificent traitor!” He suppressed his anger, voice low. “He truly grinds the law into the dirt beneath his feet.”
Seeing this, Grand Preceptor Dong quietly pushed a cup of tea toward him. “As long as such a traitor remains in court for one day, the country and the people will suffer for another day.”
In an instant, Xie Shaoling understood his meaning. Seven or eight officials were urging him to rush into the fire; only that one man had told him to stay alive.
And it was the latter whom Xie Shaoling remembered. “I must sit for the exams tomorrow, so I cannot stay long.”
He slowly looked up and offered a faint smile. “Grand Preceptor, I shall take my leave.”
Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked out.
The room fell into a stunned silence.
As Xie Shaoling stepped onto the porch, he remembered there was one more important thing to do. He had wanted to ask Grand Preceptor Dong to verify if the handwriting on the manuscript really belonged to Qin Zijin. Qin Zijin was the Grand Preceptor’s most prized disciple; the old man wouldn’t mistake his own student’s hand.
But having just rejected the Grand Preceptor’s demand, returning now felt inappropriate.
As he was thinking, a slender figure carrying an umbrella approached through the rain.
The man wore a simple green scholar’s robe. The umbrella was held low, revealing only a well-defined jawline.
Xie Shaoling’s eyes moved. “Mister Qin?”
The umbrella tilted back slightly, revealing a handsome face. A flash of surprise crossed Qin Zijin’s eyes. “Little Friend Xie? Why are you here at this hour?”
Looking at the man he so deeply admired, Xie Shaoling suddenly found himself at a loss for words. “I…”
After a moment’s hesitation, he pulled the package from his sleeve. “I happened upon a manuscript of the Treatise on Statecraft. I wanted to ask Mister to verify its authenticity.”
Qin Zijin’s expression froze for a second. He gently unwrapped the cloth. “My manuscript? Where did you get this?”
Xie Shaoling watched his face intently.
Qin Zijin slowly turned the pages. After reading just one, he let out a soft laugh. “It is indeed mine.”
He flicked the paper with his finger, his tone airy and indifferent. “I was young and arrogant then. My handwriting was even more wild than it is now.”
This was the answer Xie Shaoling had been hoping for, yet as Qin Zijin said it, he felt a sudden hollowness in his chest, a sense of loss he couldn’t name.
Qin Zijin folded the pages and smoothed out the creases, his tone gentle and refined. “However, do not show this to anyone else in the future.”
“The world loves to see a gentleman covered in dust, to see a saint fall from his pedestal.” He spoke slowly, like a teacher advising a young student. “If they knew I was also wild and reckless in my youth, who would believe in my writings in the future?”
Xie Shaoling stared at him, stunned.
Qin Zijin’s lips still held a smile, but his voice dropped an octave. “Your respect for me is appreciated, but we mustn’t let it become a laughingstock, must we?”
Before Xie Shaoling could speak, Qin Zijin raised a hand in a silencing gesture, though his voice became even clearer. “Furthermore, when you enter the court as an official, your reputation for purity is paramount. You wouldn’t want people thinking you are a sycophant, calculating to climb the ladder through a connection with me.”
“Don’t you agree?”
Xie Shaoling stared at the familiar face, but his chest surged with a sudden, violent wave of nausea.
He felt sick to his stomach.
