Chapter Forty-Five: For the Glory of the Tang Dynasty!

Li Zisheng was well aware of what he needed to do; he was never one to shoot arrows without a target. Thus, his confidence as he looked at Deng Qing stemmed from this very calm composure, which in turn prompted Deng Qing to ask his question.

“General, please rest assured. I have absolute confidence that I can secure victory in this literary contest. However, the prerequisite is that the rule limiting each person to only one round must be changed. Let me fight alone first, and then I can be truly at ease,” Li Zisheng replied with a quiet composure. But these words clearly provoked the academy’s headmaster.

“You insolent child, how dare you boast so shamelessly here! I approached you with courtesy only because you seemed polite, yet you repay kindness with arrogance, speaking such pompous words. You’re nothing but an ignorant brat,” the headmaster fumed. Yet Li Zisheng remained unruffled, for in his eyes, he had merely treated the contest as a trivial matter. The headmaster had painstakingly built this academy over many years; he would never tolerate anyone slandering or destroying it.

Li Zisheng’s words and actions now seemed to the headmaster as if he was placing the academy on the brink of ruin—something utterly unforgivable. His demeanor thus grew increasingly severe.

Even Li Zisheng had not anticipated the headmaster’s temper to flare so violently. Normally, even if a person disliked someone’s speech or behavior, they would at least feign politeness. But the headmaster made no attempt to conceal his displeasure; all the Confucian ideals of self-cultivation and restraint were tossed aside. Clearly, Li Zisheng had touched the man’s bottom line.

Yet Li Zisheng was neither hurried nor anxious; he even found the headmaster’s reaction somewhat amusing, and his candor somewhat admirable. Genuine people were not uncommon, but those willing to reveal their true nature so openly were rare indeed. In this respect, the headmaster was truly a remarkable figure.

“Headmaster, do not be so hasty. Are you not aware that the Turkic powers are running rampant? Even within our Tang borders, they dare to act with such audacity, scheming against our scholars. Such deeds are truly outrageous. Though I am but a child, I possess a patriot’s heart. Even if I must sacrifice myself, it matters not, as long as these villains are punished. I may be young and unworthy, but I have some ability and have gauged the opponent’s depth; only then did I make this suggestion,” Li Zisheng continued. In truth, his sense of belonging to the Tang was not particularly strong, but he knew that men like the headmaster, upholders of Confucian virtues, valued loyalty above all. Thus, he said words that even to his own ears sounded a touch melodramatic, solely to soothe the headmaster’s anger. It wasn’t that he was unpatriotic—patriotism was shown through action, not empty words. Nevertheless, such declarations could sometimes work wonders.

Indeed, upon hearing Li Zisheng’s speech, not only the headmaster but also Master Zhong and General Deng Qing were moved. After all, for an eight-year-old child, who should still be sheltered by his parents, to show such devotion was truly precious.

The headmaster’s attitude softened greatly, his expression easing. “Very well. Since you possess such a loyal heart, you are indeed a fine youth with commendable character. But do you truly understand the strength of your opponents and their literary prowess? Can you alone bear the weight? The greatest flaw in the young is reckless arrogance.”

Although the headmaster’s tone was gentler, a trace of anger remained. He had not fully forgiven Li Zisheng’s previous discourtesy.

Master Zhong, sensing the lingering displeasure, stepped in to mediate. “Headmaster, Zisheng’s intentions are for the sake of the Tang, for the glory of our realm. He merely wishes to face the challenge alone—a display of true loyalty and courage. As elders, we should not extinguish the aspirations of the young, should we?”

Master Zhong spoke with a warm smile, his words like spring rain, not so much endorsing Li Zisheng’s proposal as seeking to alleviate the headmaster’s aversion and wariness. He himself had no intention of agreeing to Li Zisheng’s plan. This exchange with the Turks was critical; they had already suffered a setback due to treachery. If they lost the literary contest as well, it would be an unbearable humiliation, and he would have no face left to meet Governor Zhang.

“Master Zhong is quite right. Li Zisheng must have great confidence to make such a proposal; otherwise, he would not have convinced you to agree, don’t you think, Headmaster?” Deng Qing seized the moment, not allowing Master Zhong to clarify, presenting his remarks as support for Li Zisheng’s idea and directing them at the headmaster.

With the words already spoken, Master Zhong felt a surge of frustration. Deng Qing was truly exasperating—he had only intended to defuse the tension, not to endorse the plan. Now, Deng Qing’s words could easily mislead the headmaster, who was known for his straightforwardness, into believing otherwise.

Master Zhong hurried to explain himself, to make clear he had merely wanted everyone to calmly discuss the matter. Yet before he could speak, Deng Qing pressed on.

“Headmaster, since Li Zisheng has volunteered to take the lead for the Tang and secure our first victory, why not let it be so? For security, you can select nine more from the Academy’s Literary Talent Hall as substitutes. If Zisheng continues to win, all the better; if not, we have no reason to believe our own talents would be inferior to the Turks. We must not belittle ourselves. I’ll go now to inform the Turks of the rule change for the contest.”

He looked at the headmaster, whose brows were still furrowed.

Master Zhong was about to interject, to urge caution before making a final decision.