Chapter Fifty-Two: Breaking the Topic—The Original Way (Third Update)

Wang Tong could not afford to be distracted by anything else!

When he saw the people seated in the Hall of Generals, a bitterness welled up in his heart. Aside from Liu Xuan, there was the renowned scholar Li Xia from the Eastern Sea, Yu Zhonghua—the great master who had instructed Wang Tong in the study of the Book of Changes, Wen Junyou, former scholar of the Wenlin Pavilion of Northern Qi, who had served as the Sima of Sizhou after entering the Sui Dynasty... and others, all respected elders closely connected to the Taiyuan Wang clan.

Dou Wei was the initiator, yet he seemed to favor Zheng Yanqing.

That middle-aged man was unfamiliar to Wang Tong, but he must share Dou Wei’s stance. Apart from these two, everyone else was associated with Wang Tong.

What did this mean?

It meant that his conflict with Zheng Yanqing had already alarmed the clansmen of the Taiyuan Wang family.

Families of the gentry were inevitably intertwined.

These men sitting here had surely received instructions from the Wang family. The Wang clan hoped for Wang Tong’s victory; having already lost face, if he failed to win, his reputation would be utterly ruined.

He had no way out, only the path of earnest engagement with the task at hand.

Fortunately, the Wang family cultivated Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism equally, so their comprehension of Buddhism and Daoism was not lacking.

Picking up his brush, Wang Tong began to write with vigor.

Meanwhile, Zheng Yanqing knelt beside the writing desk, hands clasped as if pondering something, or perhaps resigned, eyes closed in apparent repose.

His youthful face revealed nothing.

Dou Wei grew anxious, watching time slip away, while Zheng Yanqing showed no intention of beginning.

Could it be that he had decided to forfeit?

The middle-aged man watched Yanqing, as though observing an intriguing phenomenon.

“Father, why hasn’t he started writing yet?”

The man smiled, “This child seems to plan his moves carefully. Judging by his previous writings, he refrains from action now likely because his thoughts are not yet formed.”

“But time is almost up!”

“Don’t worry. I doubt he’ll simply abandon the task.

If his mind lacks the image of bamboo, he would rather not draw it. This child pursues perfection, so if his thoughts are immature, he would prefer to submit a blank page.

Jiancheng, he’s younger than you, yet far steadier. Should you have the chance in the future, you ought to befriend him... At his age, such composure does justice to the hardships he’s endured over the years.”

Just then, Zheng Yanqing picked up his brush.

“Half Yuan is about to write!”

“Be quiet, don’t disturb Half Yuan’s concentration...”

The moment Yanqing took up the brush, Zheng Renji’s heart leapt into his throat. He found it amusing—earlier he’d wanted to see the boy ruined, but now he was anxious for him. Though their surnames were written differently with a brush, he was, after all, a member of the Zheng family, a part of An Yuan Hall. Every gesture of the boy’s inspired concern.

Universal love is called benevolence; acting appropriately is righteousness; proceeding thus is the Way; being self-sufficient without reliance on external things is virtue.

Liu Xuan’s topic was vast—far beyond what Zheng Yanqing could accomplish at this moment.

He sat quietly with closed eyes, searching his memory for any essay that could address this topic. Yet after much thought, nothing suitable came to mind, save one essay that might be relevant to Buddhism and Daoism, from which he could borrow.

He could, of course, write nothing at all.

Yet Liu Xuan’s demeanor disgusted him.

Winning or losing didn’t matter much, but pride was at stake—he could not allow himself to be looked down upon.

Benevolence and righteousness are definite titles; the Way and virtue are indeterminate positions. Thus, the Way distinguishes between gentlemen and petty men, while virtue carries fortune or misfortune. When Laozi diminishes benevolence and righteousness, it is not to destroy them, but because the observer’s vision is limited. Gazing at the sky from a well, one says the sky is small—not because the sky is small...

When the Way declined, Confucius died, books were burned in Qin, and Huang-Lao flourished in Han, while Buddhism entered during Jin, Wei, and Liang.

Those who speak of the Way, virtue, benevolence, and righteousness either originate from Yang or return to Mo... The elders said: “Confucius was a disciple of my master.” The Buddhists said: “Confucius was a disciple of my master.” Those who follow Confucius heard his teachings, enjoyed his tales, and belittled themselves accordingly. They would say: “My master is also my master—not only spoken but also recorded in books...”

Yanqing’s essay was drawn from Han Yu’s “Origin of the Way.”

Strictly speaking, it was a critique from a Confucian perspective toward Buddhism and Daoism.

This essay was acclaimed in later generations—many famous scholars commented on it, praising its spirit.

It is said that “Origin of the Way” was introduced to Goryeo at the end of the Tang, became a national standard, and a stele was erected by the river. Later, it was due to Han Yu that Goryeo took the name Korea... Whether true or not, it shows the standing of “Origin of the Way” at the time.

Since the Han and Wei, there was adoration of the mysterious, hence Daoism flourished.

Continuous warfare and chaos among the Five Barbarians gave rise to Buddhism... Many families, including the Zhengs, abandoned Confucian thought for a period. Only after the south and north divided did Confucianism return, and the idea of cultivating all three traditions emerged.

In the south, without a grasp of the mysteries, one could not be called a scholar.

The illustrious Xie family, to establish themselves in the south, sent members to study metaphysics—the mark of identity. In the north, calamities abounded, Han people suffered massacres. Buddhism became prominent, Confucian thought faded.

Yanqing’s “Origin of the Way” perhaps did not perfectly suit the times.

But for this topic on Buddhism and Daoism, it was quite appropriate...

An hour passed quickly.

Zheng Yanqing and Wang Tong handed in their essays, which were then judged by those present.

“Wang Tong’s essay on Buddhism and Daoism fits the topic well—in my view, he should win.”

Those present were all learned; at a glance, they saw that Yanqing’s essay did not precisely answer the topic, yet its significance far surpassed Wang Tong’s work. For “Origin of the Way” was founded in Confucian doctrine, critiquing Buddhism and Daoism.

Liu Xuan, gritting his teeth, stepped forward to speak again.

Wen Junyou immediately retorted. Though entrusted by the Wang family, he still had his own measure.

He did not approve of Liu Xuan’s view.

True, they were allied with the Wang family, but should friendship trump dignity?

The middle-aged man glanced coldly at Liu Xuan and snorted.

Liu Xuan said, “Zheng Yanqing’s essay is well conceived.

But gentlemen, today we are testing Buddhism and Daoism, not the teachings of the sages. In terms of addressing the topic, Wang Tong’s essay is undoubtedly more appropriate. By comparison, Zheng Yanqing’s is rather biased. Therefore, I believe Wang Tong should win!”

“Brother Guangbo, you can’t put it that way.”

Dou Wei could not help but speak up, wanting to argue.

At this moment, Yanqing rose, saluted Wang Tong, and smiled at the gathering, saying, “Esteemed elders, my talents are shallow, and in writing this essay, I already knew the outcome. Losing is losing—it’s nothing.

I am young, and it’s presumptuous to discuss the classics with you all.

Mr. Wang’s learning is exceptional, and I admire him. In truth, I came prepared to lose... I have always said that poetry and literature are minor pursuits and do not deserve your attention. Yet circumstances forced my hand, and I had to respond.

Now, all that needed doing is done, and I should take my leave.

A loss is a loss, a win is a win... There are a thousand people in this world, and there may be a thousand and one opinions—why argue over this?

Mr. Wang, gentlemen, farewell!”

Zheng Yanqing seemed unwilling to debate further, sweeping his sleeves as he departed.

At that moment, the sun rose, shining into the Hall of Generals, and Yanqing seemed to walk serenely in its glow.

A thousand people, a thousand and one opinions?

The middle-aged man suddenly laughed, “As long as one is satisfied with one’s own actions, why care about others? Among us, who has the right to judge another’s right or wrong, to rank others’ worth? Ridiculous, truly ridiculous... A group of grown men, yet none see as clearly as a child. I am ashamed to sit here—gentlemen, judge as you please, do not count me.”

For a moment, the Hall of Generals was utterly silent!