Chapter 33

Liu Zhao was about to ask Wang Yang about his family background when Wang Yang said, “Today we discuss scholarship, not lineage.”

Liu Zhao beamed with delight—Wang Yang’s words struck exactly his taste: “Good! Let’s discuss only scholarship! Then I’ll ask—”

Yu Yuling hurriedly interjected: “Since we’re discussing only scholarship, Master Wang must uphold scholarly impartiality and not use victory or defeat to deceive.”

Liu Zhao’s face darkened; he rebuked his disciple: “Zijie!”

Wang Yang looked puzzled: “When did I ever intend to deceive through victory or defeat?”

Yu Yuling spoke coldly: “Master Wang, though you were entrusted by someone, you ought to—”

“Wait, hold on! Who entrusted me?” Wang Yang, eager to win Liu Zhao’s favor, knew he must clear up this misunderstanding first.

“Aren’t you entrusted by Master Wang Guanxue?” Yu Yuling stared in shock.

“Of course not! I came here because I heard Master Liu has deeply studied the Minister—what does Master Wang Guanxue have to do with this?”

Wang Yang finally understood: all the obstacles Yu Yuling had thrown at him outside the door had been because he mistook Wang Yang for an agent of Wang Guanxue. Clearly, the tension between Wang Guanxue and the provincial academy ran deep.

When Liu Zhao and Yu Yuling heard Wang Yang deny any connection to Wang Guanxue, both were overjoyed! Xie Xinghan, hiding behind the screen, also exhaled in relief.

Yu Yuling’s face lit up: “I knew it—how could someone of your family and talent be so blind to right and wrong?! My earlier rudeness was unforgivable—I apologize!” He bowed sharply to Wang Yang.

Wang Yang did not hold it against him and returned the bow: “No need to mention it.”

Yu Yuling added: “Master, I also have a question: earlier you said Zheng Xuan’s commentary on the Xiao Situ states: ‘Cheng means ding.’ Then what is the Xiao Situ...?”

“The Xiao Situ is in the Zhouli’s Dìguān section. You haven’t mastered the Three Rites—set it aside for now. Wei Zhao’s commentary on the Guoyu also mentions this; check it yourself,” Liu Zhao replied swiftly.

Wang Yang thought: This man is truly a master of classical learning—I didn’t even know this note from the Guoyu.

Yu Yuling asked again: “Then what of the Minister Kaolingyao?”

“That’s a Han-era weishu. Your studies aren’t advanced enough yet—don’t interrupt. Write down your question; I’ll answer it later,” Liu Zhao said, then turned eagerly to Wang Yang: “Master Wang, shall we continue?”

“In the Kang Gao, from ‘Only in the third month, the moon begins to wane’ to ‘Thus the grand proclamation of governance,’ forty-eight characters are actually from the Lu Gao. They should be moved before ‘Zhou Gong bowed his head and kowtowed’ in the Lu Gao. How do we know? Zhou Gong’s eastern campaign took two years to quell Guan and Cai; only then was Kang Shu enfeoffed. Seven years later, the king resumed power, and the construction of Lu occurred in that same year—so when Kang Shu was enfeoffed, Lu had not yet been built. Thus, this passage is a later textual corruption, a misplacement of original script.”

“What is ‘Dao Shan’? ‘Dao’ means ‘path.’ The Shiji quotes the Yugong using this very character ‘dao.’ Because one follows the path taken by people, observes its direction, and measures its distance, it is called ‘dao.’ Hence it also says ‘kan lv.’ What is ‘kan lv’? ‘Kan’ means to mark; ‘lv’ means to arrange. To mark and arrange in sequence—this was the ancient method of measuring distance!”

“‘Heaven has sent calamity upon our house, not few, extending to our young and immature ruler.’ This is a mispunctuation by earlier scholars! ‘Not few’ refers to the rebellion of the Three Supervisors and the Huaiyi. But reading the whole chapter, it first speaks of the newly founded Zhou dynasty, then King Wu’s sudden death, then Cheng Wang ascending the throne as a child. Only after ‘yue zi chun’ does it mention the Three Supervisors and Huaiyi. Thus, the sentence must end after ‘our house’—‘extending’ belongs to the previous clause: ‘Heaven has sent calamity upon our house, not few, extending, to our young and immature ruler.’ ‘Not few, extending’ simply means King Wu died suddenly...”

Tea was refilled three times; scrolls covered the table.

Liu Zhao, Yu Yuling, and Xie Xinghan had all been stunned into silence.

From the Southern Qi to the modern era lay fifteen hundred years—during which great scholars never ceased to emerge, countless scholars debated for long periods, pushing the study of the Minister to heights the Southern Qi could never reach.

Added to this, Wang Yang’s grasp of scholarly lineage meant every insight he offered was a key unlocking long-standing puzzles in Minister studies since the Han—how could Liu Zhao and the others not be utterly dazzled?

At first, Liu Zhao often checked texts and asked questions; later, it became entirely Wang Yang’s monologue.

As Wang Yang grew animated, he no longer restricted himself to proven claims—while remaining rigorous, he wove in bold, revolutionary theories capable of overturning old doctrines and shaking the scholarly world, leaving Liu Zhao exhilarated, overjoyed, as if he had glimpsed a new world never seen before.

Wang Yang took a sip of tea, moistened his throat, and continued speaking:

“The Yugong says: ‘The Three Rivers have entered, and Zhenze is stabilized.’ What are the Three Rivers? From Yuzhang downstream into Penglai, eastward to the sea—that is the Southern River; from Minshan through Jiujiang and Penglai to the sea—that is the Central River; from Banzhong eastward as the Han, passing San Shi and Dabie to join the river, then eastward converging into Penglai and entering the sea—that is the Northern River.”

Liu Zhao exclaimed: “Master Wang is also proficient in geography?”

Wang Yang replied modestly: “A little, just a little.”

“Indeed, just a little,” came a cool, clear female voice from behind the screen.

Wang Yang startled—he had been here so long and hadn’t realized anyone was behind him!

Liu Zhao, entirely absorbed in scholarship, had forgotten Xie Xinghan was still there. Seeing Wang Yang’s surprise, he quickly explained:

“This is the daughter of a close friend of mine. You arrived too quickly for her to retreat—she hid behind the screen. Please don’t take offense, Master Wang.”

Yu Yuling suddenly remembered something, turned to the lacquered screen, and turned pale.

Xie Xinghan said: “Master Wang’s description of the waterways roughly matches the Northern Han River, the Central Min River, and the Southern Yuzhang River. But if this is true, then the Three Rivers converge at Penglai, merge into one, and flow past Moling and Jingkou into the sea—long ago they ceased to be three. Then why does the Yugong still speak of the Three Rivers entering the sea separately? Master, you show off your talent, but your argument is overly speculative.”

Oh my god?

She knows her stuff!!

But why does her tone carry a barb?

Wang Yang’s scholarly approach always prioritized philology—he had just been called “speculative”!

“Speculative” meant fabricating theories out of thin air, forcing connections.

For a scholar, being labeled speculative was a grave disgrace.

But this was Wang Yang’s own fault—he had gotten carried away, casually citing Su Shi’s view without ensuring scholarly rigor.

Normally, he could simply admit his argument was imprecise—but not now.

He must dominate the entire discussion—otherwise, he wouldn’t achieve the best result!

Wang Yang immediately countered: “Why can’t a merged river still be called the Three Rivers? The river flows from the west; by Jinshan, it splits into three distinct currents. Tea connoisseurs value water flavor—they say the three currents blend yet their tastes remain distinguishable. Thus, though the waters merge, their flavors do not—so even merged, the river can still be called three.”

“Three currents? What three currents? Where is this from?” Xie Xinghan asked.

Wang Yang inwardly cursed—he had slipped. “Three currents” was a term from Tang dynasty tea culture, far too late to cite now!

Seeing Wang Yang hesitate, Xie Xinghan frowned, lips curling slightly in disdain: “You made that up, didn’t you?”

Liu Zhao and Yu Yuling both turned to Wang Yang.

————————

Note: As Wang Yang spoke, he repeatedly cited bold theories to overwhelm Liu Zhao—some of these arguments lacked concrete evidence and were merely speculative. Yet brilliant speculation moves hearts most powerfully, regardless of truth. When Qing scholars reached a certain level, they practiced what was called “solitary judgment.” “Solitary judgment” meant asserting a conclusion as true even without proof—based on profound scholarship, intuition, and genius insight, all summed up in the word “judgment.” Those interested may read Chen Yinke’s “Supplementary Evidence for the Peach Blossom Spring Record” or “Reading the Story of Yingying.” Their conclusions may not be correct, but they reveal the power and brilliance of speculative reasoning.