Chapter 207: A Gentleman Uses His Mouth, Not His Hands

Before a large hall of the academy.

The Scholars watching the excitement surrounded the hall three layers deep, inside and out, blocking it completely.

Right in the center, He Zheng, with disheveled clothes and his chest exposed, was grappling with a middle-aged man of about forty wearing a Confucian robe.

Although that man was taller and sturdier than He Zheng, He Zheng was also a man of hot blood and refused to show any weakness.

When the man on the opposite side threw a punch, He Zheng dodged to the side and stretched out both hands to choke his opponent's neck. Under this choke, the opponent's face turned red and his breathing became rapid; in his urgency, he grabbed the long hair at the back of He Zheng's head.

He Zheng grimaced in pain, his features contorting, and the strength in his hands increased sharply.

Under the pain, the strength in the opponent's hands also surged.

Neither would submit to the other; like two fighting cocks, they gripped each other's painful spots tightly.

The surrounding Scholars watching the excitement found it incredibly satisfying; from time to time, enthusiastic Scholars would clap and cheer, waving their fists and letting out two exaggerated shouts of encouragement.

"What are you doing! What are you doing?!"

An angry voice rose up, and the crowd turned their heads to look.

Zhang Yunxiu, under the protection of several Embroidered Uniform Guard attendants, walked up quickly, followed by a blond-haired, blue-eyed Frankish man.

Immediately, the crowd was frightened into scattering to both sides, clearing a path for Zhang Yunxiu.

The two men fighting saw that officials had arrived, so they both let go and pulled away to either side.

The middle-aged Confucian scholar took two heavy breaths before looking at Zhang Yunxiu, pointing at He Zheng and accusing him: "Director Zhang, this—this fellow said things that show no respect for father or sovereign. I debated him for a few sentences, and he actually wanted to kill me to silence me; his heart is simply vicious."

He Zheng wiped the bloodstains on his neck and sneered: "Heh, you sure know how to talk. It was clearly you, this fellow, who started it first, and now you're turning the tables and blaming it on me!"

"You—you have no sovereign or father, and you are arguing sophistry!" The middle-aged Confucian scholar was full of anger, pointing at He Zheng and cursing through gritted teeth.

"What 'me' what? The ancients say, 'A gentleman uses his mouth, not his hands.' You petty person, I only intended to use my mouth with you, but you were the one who started using your hands on me first." He Zheng spat and replied with a brazen look.

"Enough, enough, all of you shut your damn mouths!" Zhang Yunxiu felt his head growing large from the noise; he glared and let out a curse, "If you haven't fought enough, then keep fighting. If you still don't feel satisfied, I'll have someone lend you knives."

"How about you fight until you're dead?!"

Once these words were spoken, the two looked at each other, hung their heads, and said nothing.

Seeing that the parties involved had quieted down, the guards began to drive away the Scholars; after a short while, the Scholars watching the excitement dispersed one after another.

The middle-aged Confucian scholar still felt that Zhang Yunxiu was biased toward He Zheng, but he could do nothing about it, so he could only leave a harsh remark and depart sullenly.

Once he had left, He Zheng changed his expression and personally led Zhang Yunxiu to a small hall to be seated.

Matteo Ricci and the various guards went to a side hall.

Once the two were seated, He Zheng's disciples served tea and then hurriedly withdrew.

Zhang Yunxiu had been walking for a long time and suddenly felt thirsty; he picked up the tea on his left, took a small sip, narrowed his eyes, and asked: "Tell me, what is going on?"

He Zheng was full of enthusiasm as he detailed what had just happened.

The middle-aged Confucian scholar who had fought him was named Huang Sheng; he was a provincial graduate by background and the head of a rather famous academy in this Beijing city.

Ever since He Zheng opened his academy, his "lofty theories" had been so shocking that they attracted praise from many Scholars in the capital. These Confucian masters were suddenly displeased and would come to his door every few days to sit and discuss the Dao with him. He Zheng's words were sharp, and over the past month, many Confucian masters had been defeated by his tongue.

Early this morning, Huang Cheng—refusing to believe the rumors—brought his disciples to find He Zheng for a debate. The two sat opposite each other in the square, with their respective disciples and supporters standing behind them.

As their gazes met, Huang Cheng stiffened his face and initiated the attack: "The ancients say, 'Heaven, Earth, Sovereign, Parent, Teacher.' Apart from Heaven and Earth, the sovereign is the most honorable. In this world, everyone has their own place; you actually dare to say things like 'everyone can become a sage'—you truly have no sovereign or father!"

"Hahaha, and you claim to be well-read in the Confucian classics." He Zheng laughed out loud, then suddenly stopped his laughter and sneered, "The sovereign is the guide for the minister; if the sovereign is not upright, the minister may defect to another state. The state is the guide for the people; if the state is not upright, the people may rise to attack it. The father is the guide for the son; if the father is not kind, the son may flee to another land. The son is the hope for the father; if the son is not upright, one may destroy one's kin for the sake of righteousness. The husband is the guide for the wife; if the husband is not upright, the wife may remarry. The wife is the help for the husband; if the wife is not virtuous, the husband may divorce her."

"Brothers should be respectful and friendly, fathers kind and sons filial. Could it be that if the lord is not benevolent, the parents are not kind, and the elder brother is not respectful, you would still be filial to them in every way?"

Once these words were spoken, they immediately drew cheers from He Zheng's supporters.

Huang Cheng smiled coldly: "If the sovereign wants the minister to die, the minister must die; if you can do that, then you are a loyal minister. I ask you, if the lord wants to take your life, do—do you dare not to die?!"

"Why would I not dare?!" He Zheng blurted out, then added, "If I have not violated the law and the lord takes my life, and I submit to capture, then the lord has wrongly killed a loyal minister; wouldn't that make the lord commit a mistake?"

"You rebel, you actually dare to say such wild and perverse words." Huang Cheng was so shocked he stood up abruptly.

He Zheng rose as well and cursed loudly: "You bookworm who only knows how to drill into books, what face do you have to lecture me!"

Being cursed like this by him, Huang Cheng felt a surge of anger in his heart.

He stepped forward, relying on his large stature, and grabbed He Zheng by the collar; He Zheng did not show weakness and reached back to choke Huang Cheng's neck.

The two immediately grappled together.

And so, there was the scene that Zhang Yunxiu had seen.

After listening, Zhang Yunxiu glanced at He Zheng and said: "You were quite ruthless; if I hadn't come, what would you have done if you had choked him to death?"

"I wouldn't have." He Zheng shook his head; he had a sense of proportion regarding the strength in his hands, "That guy is big and tall; if I hadn't put on the posture of a man fighting for his life, I really would have been handled by him."

Hearing this, Zhang Yunxiu looked at this man again.

Seeing his disheveled hair and the bloodstains covering his cheeks, yet still exuding a fierce spirit, for a moment, he held this "madman" who dared to speak his mind and even stand up to his lord in higher regard.

In this feudal era where the divine right of kings and the Three Bonds and Five Constants reigned supreme.

To have such a person was indeed rare.

While he was lost in thought, Zhang Fu led a few people in from outside, each of them carrying a food box.

Walking to the table, Zhang Fu ordered them to open the food boxes, placed the dishes inside onto the table, and then respectfully withdrew.

He Zheng twitched his nose, took a deep sniff, and immediately swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

"Mm, the smell of this food is truly fragrant. Today, I am enjoying the blessing of you, Director Zhang."

"Hahaha."

Seeing him with a face full of injuries yet still looking carefree, Zhang Yunxiu couldn't help but laugh out loud.

He Zheng followed with a free-spirited laugh, picked up his chopsticks, and swept through the dishes on the table like a whirlwind.

(End of chapter)