"A fine poem indeed! Ningyan truly possesses world-class poetic talent." Li Mubai slapped his thigh with a resounding crack.
His expression was one of intense excitement—partly the surprise of a scholar encountering a great poem, partly the anticipation of how the academy's students would react to it.
Zhang Shen offered no critique, but his gaze upon Xu Qian grew increasingly appreciative and self-satisfied, as if the young man truly were a student he'd personally nurtured.
"The language is plain, yet the meaning profound. Three watches of lamplight, five watches of dawn's rooster—truly the time for a man to read..." Chen Tai savored the poem, finding it deeply penetrating and endlesslysavoring.
Zhang Shen froze for a moment, recalling his own days as a student at the academy, and said with melancholy: "Isn't that just like our youth? When I was young, my family was poor. I could only eat two steamed buns a day. I'd often lie awake in the middle of the night, starving, forcing myself to study by lamplight."
Li Mubai murmured: "Is that why you kept stealing my eggs every few days?"
Zhang Shen said unhappily: "A scholar's affairs cannot be called theft. That was borrowing—I returned them later, didn't I?"
Li Mubai bristled: "A single egg in times of hardship was worth more than a thousand taels now!"
Chen Tai cleared his throat, cutting off his two friends' quarrel. He turned to Xu Xinnian: "Cijiu, after the spring examinations, regardless of your ranking, you'll be qualified for official appointment. Have you considered your future?"
The sudden shift to serious matters caught everyone off guard. Zhang Shen and Li Mubai fell silent, subconsciously planning for Xu Cijiu's career.
Chen Tai glanced at the two Masters who were about to speak, not giving them the chance: "Typically, one stays in the capital first, then is posted elsewhere—that's the normal path to advancement. Though I've never held office, I have some influence in Great Feng's official circles. I could arrange for you to stay in the capital."
As his teacher, Zhang Shen immediately beamed: "Excellent! Cijiu, thank Brother Chen at once!"
"No need, no need. If you truly wish to repay me, I do have a thought..." Chen Tai said with a smile.
Hearing this, Zhang Shen and Li Mubai sensed something was off.
No one had said they wanted to repay him.
Chen Tai continued, smiling: "Ningyan, you're a rough jade. To become refined, you still need polishing. These two old men are rough with their teaching. Why don't you transfer to my tutelage?"
"Get lost, you shameless old thief!" Li Mubai and Zhang Shen were furious.
Xu Qian seized the opportunity: "Gentlemen, Ningyan does have questions to ask."
He had come to White Deer Academy precisely to freeload.
"This student has been stuck at Essence Refining for quite some time. Lacking merit and from a poor family, I've never had the resources or opportunity to enter Qi Refining." Xu Qian bowed deeply at a ninety-degree angle. "I humbly request the gentlemen's help in opening my Celestial Gate."
This was his second purpose in coming to the academy. He could have sold the artifact Song Qing gave him to raise the silver needed to open his gate. But that wouldn't have been satisfying. Xu Qian was a man who pursued satisfaction.
Zhang Shen shook his head with a smile: "You're grasping at straws. We cultivate the Confucian path—how could we help you open your Celestial Gate? How martial artists circulate their qi, how their meridians work—only martial artists know that."
The gap between systems was greater than he'd imagined... Xu Qian felt disappointed but pressed on: "This student doesn't understand. If opening the Celestial Gate requires help from a Spirit Refining expert, how did the first person ever open theirs?"
"Do you think the martial path was created by one person? That it was achieved in a single step?" Li Mubai held his teacup and asked before drinking.
Xu Qian shook his head, indicating he didn't know.
"It was opened by generation after generation," Li Mubai said slowly. "Perhaps in the beginning, Essence Refining was already the peak. Someone, by chance, opened their Celestial Gate, and so Qi Refining became the new peak. Over time, the martial system was perfected."
"By chance?" Xu Qian caught the key phrase.
"Having a Spirit Refining expert help open the Celestial Gate is the safest and most convenient method, but it's not the only one." This time it was Chen Tai who took over, smiling: "When a baby is born, they carry aprimordial true qi. As they age, the Celestial Gate closes, and theprimordial qi hides within the body. To regain control of this qi, one must reopen the closed gate."
Xu Qian nodded. People ate the five grains, which produced impurities that clogged the Celestial Gate and blocked qi circulation. His second uncle had taught him these theoretical foundations.
"There are many methods. Besides the well-known Celestial Gate opening, there are two others. First, the Breathing Method."
"The Breathing Method must be practiced from childhood, with daily medicinal baths to cleanse the meridians and open the Celestial Gate. Over more than a decade, it costs a fortune. This method has been phased out."
"The second method is to use external force to open the Celestial Gate—the crude approach the earliest practitioners employed. For example, swallowing a demon core."
"A demon core is the essence of a demon's cultivation, containing tremendous power. Swallowing one forces open the eight extraordinary meridians uncontrollably—a nine-deaths-in-ten approach."
So that's how it works... Even though I didn't get to freeload a direct opening, at least I learned the theory—worth it... Xu Qian expressed his gratitude: "Thank you, gentlemen, for the instruction."
How modest and polite, with such pleasing words! The three Grand Confucian Masters smiled and stroked their beards, highly satisfied with Xu Qian.
...
At the center of the academy stood the Sage's Shrine, also called the Sage's Temple, housing the statue of thatforemost man in history who founded the Confucian path.
Outside the shrine, a flagstone plaza large enough to hold every student of White Deer Academy spread before them.
Each spring and autumn examination, the Dean would gather the students here for an impassioned exhortation to study hard, earn their degrees, and serve the nation with their dying breath.
On the plaza stood a low wall with peeling red paint, its surface covered with layers of paper that couldn't be scraped off.
This wall served as the academy's bulletin board, displaying articles, poems, calligraphy, and paintings from the academy's scholars and masters, as well as occasional outstanding works from students.
And academy announcements.
Two attendants approached the wall, one carrying a scroll, the other applying rice paste to the surface. Together they unfurled a scroll as tall as a man and pasted it to the wall.
Thisgesture immediately drew the attention of nearby students, especially the enormous scroll that was impossible to miss.
"What's that? Let's go see."
"Huh, it's not an article—it looks like a poem. What's so interesting about that?"
"After the Purple Sun Master left, the poems from our scholars and masters aren't worth reading whether you look at them or not."
As they spoke, students gathered in small groups beneath the low wall, gazing at the newly posted giant scroll.
The characters on the scroll were bold and powerful, cutting through the paper. Between the strokes and flourishes, a fierce spirit shone through.
"That's Master Zhang's calligraphy," a student recognized.
More students focused on reading the poem.
"Three watches of lamplight, five watches of dawn's rooster—truly the time for a man to read... How shameful. After the autumn examination, I haven't studied by lamplight once."
"At first glance, this poem seems plain, but it reveals profound truth—a real eye-opener."
"Where is it plain? With black hair, not knowing diligence in learning; with white head, only then regretting the lateness of study! The greatest truths are the simplest—the most profound wisdom lies in these words."
"White head, only then regretting the lateness of study... I've been too lax before. Obsessed with chess and mountain wanderings, I spent less and less time on study. Seeing this poem, I realize I'll definitely regret it when I'm old."
"Which master wrote this poem?"
More people crowded beneath the wall, looking up at the poem. As their emotions immersed in it, they felt a powerfulresonance.
The first couplet painted a scene that shamed the students. Though they all studied diligently, who among them could truly achieve three watches of lamplight and five watches of dawn's rooster?
But this wasn't an exaggeration—such examples truly existed. The academy's masters and scholars often cited their own experiences to admonish students.
And among the students, the few who studied with extreme diligence did indeed burn the midnight oil.
What truly shook the young students was the second couplet: With black hair, not knowing diligence in learning; with white head, only then regretting the lateness of study.
It was as if prophesying their future. Some young men who had recently neglected their studies, upon honest self-reflection, felt a chill of fear—the fear of reaching old age and regretting too late.
From their hearts arose a surge of emotion to not waste their prime years and study with renewed vigor.
Not far away, at the edge of the plaza, three Grand Confucian Masters watched the scene. Chen Tai laughed, stroking his beard: "They say poetry is useless, but few realize it's poetry that moves the heart most. Xu Ningyan is truly a world-class poetic talent."
Seeing the study poem so effectively rouse the students' emotions, Zhang Shen's smile widened: "Indeed. He composed it in the time it takes to drink a cup of tea. Such skill, whether in our age or throughout history, would rank among the very best."
Li Mubai suddenly asked: "He claims he abandoned his studies long ago—do you believe that?"
Both Masters nodded. Li Mubaicould not help smiled: "Why so?"
"When he composed the poem, he had Cijiu write it for him," Zhang Shen said.
"As a scholar, having another write his poem for him..." Chen Tai added. "Unless he wasn't skilled in calligraphy."
Any true scholar was proficient in calligraphy—it was the foundation.
Li Mubai sighed: "What a pity. He's already past twenty. It's too late to switch to the Confucian path."
Chen Tai lamented: "Such talent, yet he chose the martial path—a utter waste!"
Auncouth martial artist couldn't match Xu Ningyan's extraordinary gifts.
Zhang Shen seemed to recall something and said indignantly: "According to Cijiu, when they were young, their father decided Cijiu would study letters, Ningyan would practice martial arts."
"That Xu Pingzhi was no father! He wasted a natural scholar—a truly hateful, detestable man!" Li Mubai said bitterly.
The two Masters heartily agreed.