Chapter Eighteen: The Life-Sustaining Ointment

Li Zisheng also noticed the change in Zhong Bai’s expression.

Zhong Bai was one of Governor Zhang’s men. Now, witnessing the head of the academy show not the slightest regard for Governor Zhang’s face and making things difficult for Li Zisheng at every turn—wasn’t this simply disregarding Master Zhang entirely? Such a man deserved to die, deserved to die.

Rage was written all over Zhong Bai’s face, his anger so fierce it was almost impossible to restrain. Yet General Deng shot him a look, signaling him not to act rashly at this moment, lest he ruin Governor Zhang’s grand design.

With no alternative, Zhong Bai suppressed the fury surging in his heart.

Everyone gathered in the dining hall, with General Deng, Zhong Bai, the head administrator, and others seated at the place of honor.

General Deng waited for the participants to arrive.

“Everyone, quiet please, quiet please. I am Deng Qing, Right Guard Commander and the chief examiner for this competition. By the imperial court’s command, this event has been arranged. I know that you have all toiled diligently in preparation for this exchange of knowledge with the Turkic delegation. Today, we have gathered you here not only to encourage you, but so that you may get to know one another, and, after this meal, to discuss the division into groups. For now, I hope you will eat and drink to your hearts’ content. Ha ha! Am I right, everyone?”

General Deng’s words were powerful and well reasoned, and the crowd responded with agreement.

“Come, since everyone is here, let us raise our cups together, wishing that the scholars of the Great Tang will win a resounding victory, take the first prize, and let these Turkic barbarians know the strength and might of our Heavenly Dynasty!”

General Deng lifted his white jade cup, filled with the pear blossom wine beloved by scholars. It was served warm, almost hot, suitable for young and old alike.

Even Li Zisheng, seated at the lowest place, raised his cup and drank heartily.

The pear blossom wine was mellow and fragrant, lingering on the lips and teeth. Though it lacked the sharpness of stronger spirits, it carried the subtle elegance favored by scholars—truly the perfect drink for the occasion.

Li Zisheng savored the wine carefully, paying no attention to General Deng’s words at the head of the table.

“Director, has the academy finalized the groupings? I saw on your list that the groups were not clearly assigned. Is the matter still undecided?” General Deng asked.

The director considered for a moment, glancing at Zhou Fulin, who was drinking at the side.

Zhou Fulin shot the director a glance but said nothing, simply raising his cup and draining the pear blossom wine in a single gulp.

As if he had come to a decision, the director’s gaze suddenly grew resolute.

“General Deng, the groups have been set and cannot be changed,” he replied, ignoring the change in Deng’s expression. After bowing, he produced a small booklet from his breast and presented it to General Deng.

General Deng’s face darkened, his gaze sullen as he stared at both the director and the seated Zhou Fulin. Yet he was powerless; the list of participants for the contest was not under his jurisdiction. Still, Zhou Fulin’s arrogance and disregard were intolerable.

He had already judged, when Zhou Linqing entered earlier, that Zhou Linqing was nothing but a wine sack and rice bag, devoid of any martial talent.

If he were to protect Li Zisheng, it would be a farce. The academy clearly intended to let Li Zisheng die in the contest. If so, he would have failed to safeguard the man on whom Governor Zhang set his hopes.

And Zhou Fulin, with his overweening pride and utter disregard for Deng, was clearly a rebellious spirit, certainly acting under someone’s orders. Forcing the academy into this allocation—he was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Whether Zhou Fulin’s father, Zhou Boxiong, knew of these arrangements was unclear. Perhaps Zhou Boxiong, too, was the lackey of some mysterious force.

“Zhou Fulin, explain the groupings to General Deng, will you?” the director said, fixing Zhou Fulin with his gaze. Having already offended General Deng, if Zhou Fulin did not step in, the director would be caught between two fires, gaining nothing but enmity.

“Director, I am but a student of modest talent. Though I know the grouping arrangements, it is only right that you, Director, explain them to General Deng yourself.” Zhou Fulin’s tone was deferential. “Rest assured, Director, General Deng is a man of upright integrity, and the academy’s groupings are fair and proper. All our candidates stand as one. Should anyone seek to cause trouble, it would be an affront not only to the Great Tang, but to Lingzhou’s Huile Academy as well. What do you think, Director?”

As Zhou Fulin closed his fan with a snap and clasped his hands behind his back, he fixed his gaze on the director. The atmosphere at the table grew suddenly weighted, a silent sense of impending disaster filling the air.

General Deng’s face grew even graver.

Zhou Fulin’s words were not meant for the director; the man was but a minor functionary, powerless to affect the groupings. Zhou Fulin was openly hinting—no, warning him—that the force behind him was not to be trifled with. If Deng was not careful, he might well meet his end far from home.

Utterly audacious, truly audacious.

Zhong Bai rose to his feet.

“Master Zhou, our Governor is a man of great benevolence. In this contest with the Turkic delegation, our scholars may well suffer injuries. He has therefore ordered me to present you all with a great gift—the Sacred Salve of Severed Strings Restored. For bruises and minor injuries, this medicine will have you recovered in half a day. Originally, it was meant for Fang Zhongzheng, who was to compete, but it may be handed over now. There are still two days before the contest—no matter how severe his injury, he will recover. What do you say, Master Zhou?”

Zhong Bai placed a medicine bottle, sealed with red silk, on the table. Its aroma could not be concealed, though its mouth had been sealed with beeswax to prevent the scent from attracting thieves. Now he removed the wax, letting the fragrance prove its authenticity.

As expected, the crowd was stunned at the mention of the Sacred Salve of Severed Strings Restored. Even General Deng was surprised—no one expected Zhong Bai to go so far, offering such a miraculous medicine to Fang Zhongzheng, or perhaps to protect Li Zisheng.

Fang Zhongzheng was a master of martial arts and a trusted confidant of Governor Zhang. It was far too coincidental that he had suffered a waist injury just days before the contest. It could only have been the work of the Zhou family, to let Zhou Linqing—wholly unfit—take his place.