Chapter Fourteen: The Hall of Virtue

Evidently, there was no sign that the rain in Lingzhou would let up; at this hour, the gentle patter persisted. The morning was shrouded in mist, and the lingering rainfall delayed the arrival of daylight, but General Deng, Master Lin, Master Zhong, and Li Zisheng had long since readied themselves to head toward the Lingzhou Academy.

Li Zisheng was fond of rain—be it a downpour or a drizzle, he always found himself moved by the myriad sensations it brought. Thus, along the way, he paid no mind to the rumored difficulties awaiting him from the students of the academy, but instead lost himself in the scene of the fine rain falling.

Zhong Bai and the others watched Li Zisheng as they walked; after all, a true storm was about to descend. But seeing Li Zisheng’s calm and untroubled manner, they could not guess what he was thinking, and so held their silence.

General Deng, being privy to Li Zisheng’s plan, also regarded the boy with a measure of respect, seeing how composed he remained.

The academy was not far from the barracks—only a stroll of the time it takes to drink a cup of tea. The gate of Lingzhou Academy was markedly grander than that of the county school; the stone lions flanking the entrance were carved with a fierce and intimidating air, the gateway itself imposing. Unlike the hustle and bustle outside the county school, here the threshold was quiet to the point of desolation, with hardly a vendor or errand boy to be seen on the street. The road was tranquil, lined on both sides by tall, stately trees.

“General Deng, you honor us with your presence. Forgive us for not meeting you sooner—please, come in,” an elderly man, who had evidently been waiting for some time, hurried forward to greet them.

Catching sight of those behind General Deng, the old man’s eyes lit upon Zhong Bai in the crowd.

“Ah, Master Zhong, you are here as well. Please, all of you, come in.”

“Supervisor Lin, has everyone arrived?” General Deng’s brow furrowed slightly; as the official overseer of this examination, he found it improper that none of the contestants had come to greet him. Their absence felt somewhat insolent.

But he did not voice his displeasure outright. He had heard tales of the unruly ways of these scions of wealthy families, and though angered, he forced himself to hold it in.

Li Zisheng followed Supervisor Lin into the academy grounds. The buildings—pavilions, towers, and corridors—were perfectly arranged, but the air was pervaded by a profound quiet. Unlike a typical academy, there was no sound of students reading aloud. Though morning was the best time for study, since he entered, not a single student had appeared. This struck him as odd.

“General Deng, just ahead. All the candidates are waiting in the Hall of Virtue,” Supervisor Lin said with a broad smile.

A touch of displeasure flickered in General Deng’s expression, but he replied all the same.

The Hall of Virtue was ancient in appearance, its architectural style bearing the unmistakable influence of the great Sui dynasty, a testament to the academy’s long lineage. One could not help but admire the weight of its history, something even Master Zhong and the others acknowledged with respect.

On either side of the hall hung couplets reading: “Better than hoarding gold and jade is to fill your home with books and teach your sons; greater than broad fields and land is to treat others with kindness.”

What fine couplets, what profound meaning! Li Zisheng could not help but feel a deep admiration. In a few simple words, the essence of life was captured—truly, these were words to savor. He wondered which master had penned such humble yet resonant lines.

Following the others inside, Li Zisheng found the Hall of Virtue built entirely of carved wood, old and elegant. The morning light seemed unable to penetrate within; eternal lamps glowed softly, filling the room with a golden hue, making it brighter than outside.

Seated within were nine people. Li Zisheng scarcely glanced at who they were, distracted by the intricate woodwork that so delighted him. From the pre-Qin era to the late Qing, each period had its unique style. Pursuing such art always gave him great joy.

At the sight of General Deng, the nine rose as one and greeted him with formal respect.

General Deng regarded them with a trace of anger, but he held it in check. After all, the upcoming examination depended on these nine and on Li Zisheng.

He had already guessed that these nine were here to confront Li Zisheng for his bold words of the previous day. When Master Zhong had told him, he too was shocked—Li Zisheng, by his actions, had made many enemies. He had foreseen some trouble, but for these nine to include him in their reckoning was truly excessive.

Still, it was a chance to see whether Li Zisheng, as Master Zhong claimed, was truly as confident in his abilities and could resolve the current predicament. What further surprises would this eight-year-old bring?

As Li Zisheng had anticipated, he kept examining the wooden carvings about him, which so captured his interest. These carvings were his passion—each era, from ancient to recent dynasties, had its signature, and each pursuit filled him with delight.

“General Deng, this must be the famed prodigy of Lingzhou, Li Zisheng?” came the first voice.

As expected, the voice rang out, and Li Zisheng reluctantly drew his gaze from the woodwork to regard the speaker—a man with a jade-like countenance, marred only by a pair of triangular eyes that lent his face a strange, discordant air. Not quite ugly, but certainly odd.

“Yes,” General Deng replied, intent on shielding Li Zisheng, “he will be joining the nine esteemed scholars for this examination in the literary arts.”

He emphasized that Li Zisheng was not a martial student, hoping to avoid any among the nine from rashly challenging him to physical contests—blows are blind and injuries undesirable.

“Well, Li Zisheng, your reputation precedes you. The so-called top scholar, the so-called literary champion—such bold words! It seems you hold the scholars of Lingzhou in contempt. I wonder, do you truly possess such ability? You are but a child, yet so arrogant. You’d best hurry home and ask your mother to teach you humility, lest you ruin yourself.”

The strange-faced man’s words were harsh and mocking, but it was clear he was one of the candidates, stung by what he’d heard the day before, and now taking the lead in testing Li Zisheng’s mettle.

Li Zisheng felt a sense of relief; he had been prepared for a fiercer confrontation, but it seemed they would first test him with words. That was well enough—he ought to make his position clear, for otherwise, his reputation would be for naught.

“Indeed, what you’ve said is precisely what I wished to express. I admit my talents are limited, yet I still aspire to claim the top literary honor of Lingzhou. May I ask, then, who currently holds that title?”