Liu Yinsheng set the ginger tea back on the desk, the bottom of the cup making a soft click as it touched the wood.
“Correct. It is Zhizhou Tower.”
When Chen Zui heard those three words, his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
“Does that mean my journey from Luoyan City to this Academy was entirely orchestrated by Zhizhou Tower?”
“Clever.”
Liu Yinsheng did not deny it.
He picked up the ginger tea and took another sip, the rising steam blurring his features.
Hearing this, Lu Chenzhou couldn’t help but frown.
“They sent Young Hero Chen to the Academy?
What is Zhizhou Tower’s objective in doing this?
And as for Cao Zhengchun’s decision to leave the capital and head south, even those close to the Emperor might not have known. Where did Zhizhou Tower get such information?”
“Brother Lu, the name Zhizhou Tower isn’t just for show.”
There was a trace of complexity in Liu Yinsheng’s tone.
“The world’s information converges like an ocean, and they are the reefs within that sea. Every hidden current that passes cannot escape the watermarks left on those reefs.”
The study fell silent for a moment.
The sound of rain seeped in from outside, the water from the eaves gathering into a line and pattering against the bluestone slabs beneath the corridor.
Chen Zui suddenly spoke.
“They led me to Qingya Academy so that I would shield the Academy from this calamity brought by Cao Zhengchun?”
“More than that.”
Liu Yinsheng set down his teacup, his gaze slowly drifting between Chen Zui and Lu Chenzhou.
“Cao Zhengchun coming to the Academy is merely the storm on the surface. What Zhizhou Tower truly wants to accomplish is to make you and Qingya Academy see one thing clearly.”
“What thing?”
“To see clearly the situation of all scholars in this world.”
Liu Yinsheng stood up and walked to Lu Chenzhou’s side, looking out the window with him.
In the curtain of rain, the layered rooftops of Qingya Academy stood silent under the gloomy sky.
They looked like a group of old scholars draped in straw raincoats, their backs hunched but refusing to bend.
“Brother Lu, your lifelong wish is for Confucianism to aid the world, for the teachings of the Sages to be truly used to govern the state and bring peace. The First Prince favors Confucianism, and I know you originally held great expectations for him.”
Lu Chenzhou said nothing.
But his silence was an admission in itself.
“But have you ever thought about it? Even if the First Prince successfully ascends the throne, exalts Confucianism, and abolishes all other paths... will you scholars truly be able to realize your ambitions?
Why does the First Prince favor Confucianism? It is not because he has any profound understanding of the Sages’ teachings. It is because the Confucian principles of sovereign and subject, and the hierarchy of status, are most beneficial for him to sit securely on that Dragon Throne.
What he wants is to suppress all other schools of thought, not to rule with benevolence and love for the people. He wants the name of the Confucian arts, not the legacy of Confucianism itself.”
He turned around and looked at Lu Chenzhou’s profile.
“Once he ascends the throne, the Academy will still be a mere appendage of imperial power, and the Erudites will still be the mouthpieces of the court. You can annotate the classics and hold lectures, but you must never say a single word the Emperor does not wish to hear. When that time comes, no matter how stiff your bones are, Brother Lu, it will be useless. Because once Confucianism flourishes, there will be no shortage of people like Lu Chenzhou.”
Lu Chenzhou’s Adam’s apple bobbed once.
The rain outside struck the branch of an old plum tree, and droplets seeped slowly down the cracks in the bark, as if silently entering a wound.
“The Second Prince is even less worth mentioning. He trusts eunuchs, stays close to the Buddhist sects, and views the Academy as a thorn in his side. Why did Cao Zhengchun dare to come and run wild at the Academy today? Because the Second Prince and the Emperor are standing behind him. Today, I was able to block him once. But if the First Prince falls one day and Cao Zhengchun returns, what arrives won’t just be a single vermilion sedan chair.”
Lu Chenzhou closed his eyes.
On his deeply wrinkled face, exhaustion spread like a water stain.
Chen Zui had remained silently seated on the futon, his hands folded over his knees.
“Then what about the Third Prince?” he asked.
Liu Yinsheng turned to glance at him, a faint, almost non-existent curve appearing at the corner of his mouth.
“The Third Prince favors martial arts. He maintains eight hundred retainers in his manor, each with a cultivation of the Second Rank or above. If he ascends the throne, martial ruffians will run the country while civil officials are pushed aside. The Academy might not be suppressed too harshly, but it certainly won’t achieve anything. It would just be a different way of being marginalized.”
Chen Zui nodded and didn’t ask further.
He seemed to be waiting for Liu Yinsheng to finish.
Liu Yinsheng sat back down on the futon.
In the dim study, his white robes were like a patch of quiet moonlight, blending with the scholarly atmosphere of the room without any discordance.
“So, what Zhizhou Tower means is...”
He looked at Lu Chenzhou, his tone finally becoming solemn.
“Whether it is the First Prince, the Second Prince, or the Third Prince—or even the currently reigning Emperor—none of them are worth the Academy and the world’s scholars staking their entire lives and fortunes. In the end, you are all merely pieces on their power-play chessboard. The only difference is whether you are placed in a prominent position or stuffed into a corner.”
Lu Chenzhou opened his eyes, his gaze heavy as he looked at Liu Yinsheng.
“Then what does Zhizhou Tower want the Academy to do?”
Liu Yinsheng met his gaze and spoke word by word.
“Zhizhou Tower hopes that you, Brother Lu, in the name of all scholars under heaven, will contact the Imperial Academy, the Education Commissioners of the Thirteen Provinces, and the various academies of Jiangnan to submit a joint petition. To recommend a certain person to the Emperor to succeed the throne.”
The study suddenly became deathly quiet.
Even the sound of the rain outside seemed to drift further away.
Lu Chenzhou’s brow furrowed even tighter.
He remained silent for a long time, so long that the copper kettle on the stove began to whistle with a boiling hiss, before he finally spoke.
“Who?”
Liu Yinsheng did not answer immediately.
He looked down at the roll of bamboo slips on the desk that had been dampened by the moisture, then raised his eyes, his gaze as bright as a sword.
“The Fourth Princess.”
Those three words fell into the study like stones dropped into a deep pool.
Lu Chenzhou’s entire body shook, and he whipped around.
The sleeve of his green robe knocked over a stack of Xuan paper at the corner of the desk, the sheets scattering across the floor.
“What did you say?”
His voice was so raspy it almost changed pitch, filled with shock and disbelief.
“Liu Yinsheng, do you know what you are saying? In the three hundred years since Grand Zhao was founded, there has never been...”
“Never been a Female Emperor.”
Liu Yinsheng finished the sentence for him.
“Brother Lu, I know this sounds absurd. But think about it. Among those three princes, which one can you truly entrust your heart to? Which one will not treat the Academy and Confucianism as a mere stepping stone?”
Lu Chenzhou opened his mouth, but for a moment, he found himself speechless.
He braced his hands against the window frame, his silhouette looking exceptionally old in the rainy light.
After a long time, he spoke in a low voice, his words broken by the sound of the rain.
“Even if the Fourth Princess is indeed a wise ruler... this is the Emperor’s family matter, an internal affair of the imperial household. The Academy is built upon learning and never participates in a succession struggle. This is an ironclad rule.”
“An ironclad rule?”
Liu Yinsheng suddenly let out a laugh, one tinged with a bit of coldness.
“Brother Lu, do you still not see it clearly?
Why did Cao Zhengchun dare to come today? It is because the Academy is already being treated as a faction of the First Prince. Whether you like it or not, whether you admit it or not, you have already waded into this muddy water. It wasn’t your choice; someone else pushed you in. It is already too late to withdraw.”
Lu Chenzhou’s shoulders trembled slightly.
The silence in the study weighed down like a block of lead.
Only the sound of the rain and the boiling kettle intertwined, like two hidden currents clashing violently in an unseen place.
Chen Zui sat to the side, taking in their entire conversation.
His expression remained calm.
To him, a wanderer of the martial world, these matters had nothing to do with him.
He believed that since Zhizhou Tower had gone to such great lengths regarding him, they certainly had other purposes.
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