The bronze cauldron shook violently, and in that moment, Li Guanyi seemed to hear the roar of dragons and tigers. He looked up and saw clouds in the sky converging and swirling, forming a surging torrent in the illusion—so vast, so majestic.
It was as if it were going to swallow him whole.
Though it was daytime, Li Guanyi seemed to glimpse the light of the White Tiger's Seven Stars.
The convergence of civil and martial energy appeared to engulf even the White Tiger constellation. The internal energy in Li Guanyi's body began to circulate unconsciously at an accelerated pace.
Xue Daoyong's voice pulled him back from this grand vision.
"Guanyi, Shuangtao, what are you spacing out for? Come and greet Master Wang."
Li Guanyi stepped forward to pay his respects. The scholar smiled and nodded, saying, "Full of spirit. A fine young man."
Xue Daoyong laughed heartily and walked arm-in-arm with the scholar.
Meanwhile, Zhangsun Wuchou naturally walked alongside Li Guanyi, introducing the visitors.
This literary gathering in Guanyi City truly lived up to its reputation—it was the grandest in the Chen Kingdom in the past thirty years. Numerous renowned scholars, noble families, and great Confucians from various factions had gathered, all crowding around Master Wang Tong. Around him were three disciples, the eldest just over twenty.
One of them came from the distinguished Fang clan of Qinghe, named Fang Ziqiao. He had a gentle and serene demeanor, calm and refined.
Zhangsun Wuchou smiled and said:
"The Fang clan of Qinghe is one of the most prestigious in the land. Fang Ziqiao is the legitimate heir and future head of the house."
"He is calm and highly strategic, already somewhat renowned."
"That one, seventeen or eighteen years old, is from the Du clan of the capital of the Ying Kingdom, named Du Keming."
Zhangsun pointed toward a boy sitting with his eyes closed.
Dressed in black, with sharp eyebrows and a fierce air, his presence was like a razor's edge. Zhangsun Wuchou said softly, "He is decisive, never hesitant—quite the outstanding figure. Among Master Wang's disciples, Fang Ziqiao excels at strategy, while Du Keming shines in judgment. I once heard of a strategist's ranking…"
"Some said that while the two are still young—one strategic but lacking decisiveness, the other decisive but short on strategy—if they were combined, they might already qualify among the top ten strategists of the future."
"They grew up together as senior and junior disciples—only they can truly work together with such sincerity."
A young man walked ahead to lead the way, calmly saying, "Honored guests, please be seated."
Because of Elder Xue's status, Li Guanyi and Xue Shuangtao were seated toward the front. Zhangsun Wuchou casually sat beside Li Guanyi, stuffing two delicate pastries into his mouth with no restraint, naturally putting people at ease.
The cultural refinement of the Chen Kingdom exceeded even that of Ying in the Central Plains—not to mention other regions. These scholars had all brought their sons and juniors. Li Guanyi swept a glance across the room and roughly guessed their purpose.
Sure enough, after some tea and music, Fang Ziqiao spoke:
"Today, our teacher came to Guanyi City at the invitation of an old friend, making this a grand literary gathering. But more than that, there is one matter: our teacher excels in the Hundred Schools of Thought, with disciples in three branches—strategy, judgment, and counsel—all already passed down."
"But there remains one branch—Power—for which no disciple has yet received the legacy."
"Today, our teacher is here to seek this final, closing disciple."
The gazes of many renowned scholars shifted.
Wang Tong's reputation was immense, with countless disciples. The sons of aristocratic families from both Ying and Chen often studied under him.
To them, this was a tremendous opportunity—a resource and a chance. The elders stood, while the younger generation remained at the desks. Xue Daoyong patted Li Guanyi's shoulder and said:
"Guanyi, this old man believes in you."
"Don't be afraid. Do your best!"
Li Guanyi saw the paper placed before him—it seemed he was to write an essay. He glanced at the questions, and the corner of his eye twitched—
"Lofty and vast, the people cannot name it; majestic and glorious is its success, radiant is its literary grace."
"Water, fire, metal, wood, earth—only through cultivation are they useful."
"Compose on the theme 'A scholar must have character before skill,' and write an essay."
"On a moonlit night, wear a brocade robe and drift a boat through Caishi—compose a poem with the rhyme: 'glancing with pride, as if none were around.'"
Li Guanyi: "..."
What… what even is this?
He knew every character, but together they made no sense. At that moment, all the noble children, including Xue Shuangtao, had begun answering—analyzing sage teachings and relating them to current affairs.
They were also required to compose a poetic rhapsody with the character "wen" (文) as the rhyme.
Li Guanyi had to admit, ten-plus years of systematic education for these noble children paid off. They were all writing fervently. The youth sighed, lifted his brush, and wrote in bold, elegant calligraphy:
Li Guanyi
Like writing your name on a test paper even if you can't answer anything.
It was a small comfort—not a blank sheet.
He then put down the brush.
Sitting there upright, while everyone else scribbled away, he stood out completely. This caught the attention of Fang Ziqiao, Du Keming, and the guide boy—not for any other reason, just because it was too conspicuous.
Du Keming raised an eyebrow and pointed at the paper.
Answer the questions. What are you looking at me for?
Fang Ziqiao, dressed in white, walked over and gently asked, "Brother Li, is something troubling you? Why not write?"
The youth replied plainly, "I can't answer them."
The gentleman paused, then smiled helplessly.
On his next visit over, he brought the youth some pastries and said, "Well then, just sit and watch the others answer." Fang Ziqiao's voice was warm. He looked at Li Guanyi's name and praised, "Your calligraphy is excellent."
With a smile, he added, "If you need more tea, just tap the table lightly."
"This is still a rare experience."
Li Guanyi indeed slowly sipped his tea, pondering the strange change in the bronze cauldron.
He remembered what the Yin-Yang practitioner Siming had said—
"The winds of the world are gathering."
Strangely, this made others take notice—especially those noble sons who had tried and failed to flirt with a girl earlier, only to be interrupted by him. They now wore expressions of relief—so he's not some literary genius or martial prodigy, just a crude brute.
They relaxed internally.
The test lasted a full hour. Li Guanyi finished his tea but couldn't leave, so he sat silently with eyes closed, regulating his breath. Outside, the scholars and literati discussed philosophy and poetry. Fang Ziqiao and Du Keming collected the papers into a thick stack.
All the famous scholars were present.
Wang Tong read through them. Xue Daoyong laughed loudly:
"Ha! Let's look at my kid's paper first, alright? Everyone, no objections I hope?"
None dared object—they smiled along as the scroll was opened. Wang Tong praised:
"Miss Xue Shuangtao—her words are sharp, her essay bold and heroic."
"Yet her style flows softly like southern rivers. Among girls of her age today, few can match her talent."
Some of the scholars showed interest—clearly wanting to propose alliances with the Xue family.
Xue Daoyong waved them off proudly:
"My granddaughter is outstanding! Now let's look at my kirin child!"
Wang Tong smiled and searched for the scroll.
Fang Ziqiao pressed a hand gently over the stack and said warmly, "Elder Xue, perhaps we can save that for later."
"The wine is warm, and the second round of questions awaits."
Xue Daoyong burst into laughter: "Silly child! What's there to hide?!"
"Come, let everyone enjoy!"
Just like showing off a favorite nephew, he pulled out the scroll. Everyone grew curious—what sort of genius would earn the favor of the Lion of the Chaotic Age, a descendant of Duke Xue?
They looked over—
The scroll was blank, save for one name written in spectacular calligraphy.
Silence.
Zhangsun Wuchou, holding a handful of Western melon seeds, froze.
"…Huh???"
"Huh??!!"
Someone with that level of strategic insight… can't even answer this?
To avoid embarrassing noble families, the questions were deliberately easy.
After a long pause, someone stammered, "Well, the calligraphy is elegant… full of spirit!"
Fang Ziqiao smiled kindly: "This young man has a dignified bearing—surely he has great talent. He is young and bold, likely unimpressed by these questions." Everyone nodded and praised him. Only Elder Xue winced, amused and exasperated. He threw the blank paper aside and feigned anger:
"Where is Guanyi?!"
A quiet boy named Wei Xuancheng pointed toward a pavilion and said,
"Just now, he was pulled away by a beautiful girl."
Elder Xue blanched and chased after them. The others chuckled and followed.
Du Keming said, "You notice the important things, Xuancheng."
Wei Xuancheng replied calmly, "Right to the point. I want to see if that guy has talent—or is just a freeloader."
He rubbed his sore wrist.
He had poured seven pots of tea during that one hour.
The copper teapot was heavy.
His wrist hurt.
The three of them smiled and followed. This was their first meeting with the youth.
Full of youthful pride and spirit—naturally arrogant.
They didn't have the best impression of each other yet.
As they approached, Wang Tong lightly coughed. A gentle energy spread, concealing their approach. Scholars had their methods—warriors are unstoppable in close combat, but only if they get close.
They saw the youth in a blue robe sitting cross-legged under a pavilion, his black saber too heavy to wear—he held it in his lap. The well-dressed girl paced back and forth, frowning:
"Guanyi, why didn't you answer?"
Li Guanyi sighed and said honestly, "I couldn't. I didn't even understand it."
Xue Shuangtao looked at him:
"But when you tell history stories, you don't sound like someone who hasn't read books."
She had heard the noble sons mocking him earlier, so she came to rebut them.
Still angry, she dragged him over to ask. The youth, carefree, hugged his saber and smiled:
"I just don't know how."
Elder Xue, not far away, sighed inwardly. He assumed Li Guanyi was simply unskilled in literary matters. Zhangsun Wuchou grew curious. The others were inwardly amused—rare to see Elder Xue embarrassed. They felt relieved. Given the old man's standing, he could've easily claimed the title otherwise.
Wang Tong smiled gently: "Elder Xue, children's chatter—best not to eavesdrop."
Xue Daoyong chuckled, "True. This rascal didn't answer, it was rude."
"I apologize on his behalf."
Wang Tong replied with a smile, "Not at all."
"I have fine tea from beyond the pass. Let us enjoy it together."
But Xue Shuangtao was still doubtful. She whispered:
"'Lofty and vast, the people cannot name it…'—that's from the Book of Documents, praising the great deeds of ancient kings. The question was to extol our current emperor's achievements."
The current emperor?
Li Guanyi did not answer.
He couldn't praise him. He still had those 135 wen from Qian Zheng carefully wrapped up.
If he ever saw that emperor, he'd want to throw those coins in his face.
Holding his saber, he said, "Do the achievements of ancient kings still exist?"
"They don't."
"Exactly."
"The thousand palaces are now dust."
The youth said,
"Whether thriving or fallen—it's always the same."
"In prosperity, the people suffer. In ruin, the people suffer."
Wang Tong, walking away, suddenly stopped in his tracks.
Xue Shuangtao said, "That's…"
Most people only quote the latter half. The first part carries even greater weight.
Li Guanyi smiled, "When I was coming here…"
Xue Shuangtao continued, "You passed an old man reciting it, didn't you?"
Li Guanyi clapped with admiration:
"Brilliant, my lady! You've learned to answer first."
"That old man's surname was Zhang."
She didn't believe him at all. Looking at him again, she said:
"Another question asked, 'A scholar must first have character, then skill.' It's asking about your ambition and capacity. Any student could say something."
Li Guanyi tapped his saber and smiled, "I'm a warrior."
"Not good with words."
Xue Shuangtao lightly kicked his leg.
Then she saw her grandfather signaling furiously from a distance. But because of Wang Tong's aura and Xue Daoyong's restraint, Li Guanyi didn't notice. Xue Shuangtao thought for a moment and held out her hand.
In her pale palm was a golden bracelet inlaid with jade. She smiled and said:
"Then, Mister Guest Scholar—"
"I'll buy your ambition with this golden jade bangle."
"Is that a fair deal?"
The youth laughed: "Alright."
"I happened to meet two gentlemen on my way here—each said a line."
"Does my lady want the martial one or the literary one?"
Xue Shuangtao asked, "If it's martial?"
Li Guanyi thought for a moment and said:
"A true man, born beneath heaven and earth—
Should raise his three-foot sword and bring peace to the world, leaving behind immortal feats!"
Though he didn't say "How can I remain beneath others forever?", the rest stood proud and upright.
A flash of light crossed Zhangsun Wuchou's eyes.
Xue Shuangtao nodded blankly. "And the literary one?"
"Literary?"
Li Guanyi gripped his saber and, thinking of all he'd seen—ten years of wandering—spoke with quiet grandeur:
"To establish a heart for heaven and earth;
To establish a destiny for the people."
A single line, and a vast, boundless vision opened up.
Fang Ziqiao's smile slowly faded.
"To continue the lost teachings of the sages."
Du Keming raised a brow.
The youth was about to speak the final line playfully, just to amuse his friend.
But he stopped. He didn't know why—something was stuck in his chest. Qian Zheng's letters. That farmer who sold his daughter. This damn world flashed before his eyes—and burned like fire in his chest.
At that moment, the last line wasn't just words anymore.
Funnily enough—
Li Guanyi truly understood that final line.
The previous three were just recitations.
When you're young and reading, you don't understand the power of words. Only after years pass, after seeing so much, there comes a moment—a complete circle of education. What you once recited as a child will strike your heart like a sword.
Li Guanyi raised his black saber and pointed at the sky and earth.
And in that moment, he finally understood the weight of those words. So the final line burst forth from his chest like flame, as if he were speaking to the entire world for the very first time—
"To bring peace for all generations."
And in that moment—
None of the gathered scholars had anything more to say.
(End of Chapter)