"Teacher, maybe I should just choose the Classics and Confucianism directly. I feel it’s good to follow you and study this; no need to think further..."
Zhao Rong glanced at Teacher Yan’s expression and hesitated slightly.
Yan Jidao frowned, "No, didn’t you listen to what I just said?"
Zhao Rong replied helplessly, "I did listen, but I’m familiar with the other Art Studies and feel that choosing the path of Classics is quite suitable for me. I shouldn’t have any regrets in the future."
Indeed, among the Six Arts of Confucian Students: Classics, Poetry and Prose, Ritual, Music, Chess, and Painting... well, let’s also include the somewhat elusive Calligraphy; Zhao Rong felt that Classics was the most suitable for him.
Classics, or rather, the study of Confucian scriptures, requires one to be down-to-earth in pursuing knowledge.
It is, along with Poetry and Prose, one of the two major arts for Confucian scholars, and, in fact, it is considered even more crucial. Among Confucians in the world, those who follow this path are the most numerous, whether they are scholars or virtuous gentlemen.
Because Classics is the fundamental Great Dao of Confucianism. A straightforward explanation would be "to continue the teachings of the ancient sages."
After careful consideration of the knowledge about Confucianism he learned in his previous life, Zhao Rong still felt that the Classics and Confucian path was most suitable for him.
He had also thought about Poetry and Prose, but still felt that if he had to choose between two, it would be Classics.
As for other Art Studies in Confucianism, they were either too minor or he had never dabbled in them.
Yan Jidao remained silent for a moment, shook his head, "No, you must attend all Art Classes this year. We will discuss the specific decision a year from now."
"Do not bring it up again."
Zhao Rong paused mid-sentence, gazing at Teacher Yan’s stern expression and pursed his lips.
His eyes low, he said, "I understand, Teacher."
Yan Jidao’s brows were still furrowed, his voice carrying a tone of concern, "Ziyu, you must not be negligent in other Art Studies. The academy has set up so many for new students not just as a screening process but also for other deeper purposes."
Staring at Zhao Rong, who remained silent and respectful, he continued seriously, "After returning to the academy, I will pay attention to the assessment results of your seven Art Studies and will inquire about them from your Art Study teachers. Ziyu, you must pass them all."
Zhao Rong’s eyebrows lifted slightly, and seeing no other option, he looked up and nodded, bowing to Yan Jidao, "I understand, sir."
Although he said as much, there were still some thoughts of his own in his heart...
Hearing this, Yan Jidao finally stroked his beard and nodded, "Good, very good."
Under the maple tree, the atmosphere between the two became somewhat serious for a time.
Zhao Rong coughed lightly and opened his mouth to change the subject, asking Yan Jidao several academic questions.
Having observed and learned alongside Yan Jidao for a while, Zhao Rong stepped forward to help, trimming the maple tree together.
The autumn day was warm and the morning breeze cool. Beneath the red tree, the two picked leaves and chatted freely.
They talked about reading, gardening, and The Book of Poetry.
Even Zhao Rong listened with avid interest as Yan Jidao talked about the intricacies of planting winter wheat commonly done by farmers at the mountain’s base.
Gradually, their conversation covered all topics.
Perhaps because of his many years as a teacher, Yan Jidao tended to adopt a didactic tone during their chat.
But Zhao Rong was not annoyed and listened carefully.
As the morning passed unknowingly and the autumn sun quietly rose, the ground beneath the tree was gradually covered with maple leaves.
Outside Fenglin Courtyard.
Li Jinsu, who had been standing guard quietly, couldn’t resist turning back to glance inside at one point.
From afar, he saw a teacher and student under a lush, towering maple tree, picking red leaves and laughing from time to time...
"Teacher, is my cultivation too low? And also... my talent for cultivation isn’t very good either."
The air was quiet for a while.
"Who said that, Ziyu? You are already doing very well now. For ambitious men, the level of cultivation isn’t that important. Not long ago, wasn’t the new city lord sent here to Du You City by the Central State a common man without any cultivation? Yet he manages the whole Youlan Prefecture and controls millions of cultivators and mortals in Du You City. He can even command the Sword Immortals of the Seventh Realm from the Sword Pavilion. Such authority is still firmly in his hands," said Yan Jidao.
"Ziyu, you must not belittle yourself. Having reached the Ascending Realm’s stage of Robe-Shaking, you have already surpassed many of your peers at the Academy. Contentment brings happiness; there’s no need to compare yourself with those born with better talents for cultivation. You have your own..."
"Cough cough, no, teacher, I was asking if there was some kind of spirit pill that could quickly enhance my realm, soaring swiftly, to give me a boost," Zhao Rong scratched his head, slightly embarrassed. "If not that, then maybe an elixir that could help me break through to the Ascending Realm faster would also work."
In the end, Zhao Rong still didn’t get any "spirit pill" that could rapidly increase his realm.
At that time, Mr. Yan, with a stern face and twitching facial muscles, tightly pursed his lips and squeezed out a "No," and soon after, he told Zhao Rong to leave.
Zhao Rong said goodbye to his senior brother and left the Fenglin Courtyard.
Looking up at the sun, it was nearly noon. He stepped forward, intending to go to Tranquility Mansion to meet Qing Jun, but just after a few steps, he suddenly stopped, muttered "That was close," then turned around and took another path back to his living quarters.
Zhao Rong entered the room, placed the letter - which had either been exposed to incense or kept close to Mr. Zhu long enough to absorb a deep fragrance - between the pages of a book he didn’t care for, and changed into clean clothes.
He sniffed left and right, contentedly nodded, and then cheerfully went to find Qing Jun.
For the next two days, although Zhao Rong and Zhao Lingfei were already married, they acted like newly in-love partners, always sticking close together; they held hands whenever they walked, and sometimes when alone, Zhao Lingfei would even drape an arm around Zhao Rong’s.
During the day, Zhao Lingfei accompanied Zhao Rong to Mr. Yan’s classes.
After class, the two would walk hand in hand around Taiching Four Mansions, exploring mountains and waters, seeking solitude and admiring the maples.
All along the way, they caught many curious glances but paid them no heed.
The two seemed to regain their childhood innocence and suddenly found renewed interest in every flower, bush, tree, and stone.
Zhao Rong energetically ran up and down hills with Zhao Lingfei, never feeling tired.
Sometimes, even just whiling away the time leaning together to soak up the sun without speaking was delightful—feeling the real presence of one another, guessing each other’s thoughts while resting back-to-back seemed the greatest joy in the world.
How could it be dull?
Over these two days, a subtle understanding seemed to have developed between them.
Neither had broached the subject of each other’s cultivation.
Zhao Lingfei acted as if she didn’t know Zhao Rong had reached the Ascending Realm.
She never mentioned it.
Thus, Zhao Rong pretended to be ignorant alongside his wife, though he still harbored thoughts about her never-revealed Shattered Sword Heart.
Zhao Rong felt a little heartache.
So it went until the evening of the third day.
Zhao Rong and Zhao Lingfei, hand in hand, walked along the road back to Nanci Mansion.
The setting sun elongated their shadows.
Their steps were very slow.
Because they both knew that they had to part ways temporarily the next day.
Zhao Rong was to return to Linlu Academy with his seniors and Mr. Yan early the next morning.
Though Linlu Academy wasn’t far from Taiching Four Mansions, it would no longer be as convenient as now...