Chapter 32: 032 [Losing His Mind]

Though it was early winter, the sun was warm today and it didn't feel cold at all.

A breeze blew into the bamboo grove, setting off a rustling sound, as if plucking the beautiful notes of nature.

Such weather, such scenery, ought to have been a fresh pastoral poem. Yet what Zhao Han seemed to see was a tableau of the demon realm — torn flesh and severed limbs everywhere, evil ghosts baring fangs and brandishing claws, and yakshas circling in the sky with cruel laughter.

It was as if he were back outside Tianjin again, Zhao Han holding his little sister's hand as they walked past countless chilling stares.

Perhaps, with food and clothing assured these days, Zhao Han had nearly forgotten the suffering of that time. Forgotten how, south of Tianjin, he had glimpsed people swapping children's corpses, seen someone using bones for firewood to boil soup.

Since coming to Yanshan, Zhao Han could vaguely guess that the common folk at the bottom here were not faring well either.

But that flourishing, prosperous little town, the grain-rich fields, the academy like a paradise apart from the world — all of it draped a veil over reality. No one was willing to lift it and look straight at the hidden ugliness, and Zhao Han was no exception, because it was truly too hard to accept.

If it went on like this forever, Zhao Han reckoned he would be domesticated — a domestication he himself would never even notice.

Feeling that life was not so bad, until the day calamity came crashing down.

Take it as normal?

No!

It should not be so!

"Young master, brother, it's right here."

Zhao Han was jolted awake.

Without knowing when, they had already left the bamboo grove. Fei Chun raised a hand and pointed toward several earthen huts.

The walls were rammed earth, with bamboo strips sandwiched inside, serving a function like steel reinforcement. Straw was mixed in as well, which could insulate against the temperature to a limited degree, achieving the effect of warmth in winter and coolness in summer.

The roof was thatch, needing repairs every so often, or else it would surely let in wind and leak rain.

A woman was drying bamboo leaves, excellent kindling material. Every day bamboo leaves fell on their own, and you had to hurry to gather them — if you scooped up leaves from another family's area, it might even lead to a fight.

"Excuse me, is Xu Ying at home?" Zhao Han asked with a cupped-hand salute.

The woman clearly misunderstood, her face instantly going pale. Gripping her bamboo rake, she said, "He... has he gotten into trouble at the academy?"

Fei Ruhe said, "Xu Ying this afternoon..."

"No trouble," Zhao Han immediately cut Fei Ruhe off, smiling. "We're Xu Ying's fellow students, skipping class to go out and play."

The woman relaxed at once and grew warm and welcoming: "Young masters, please come inside and sit. I'll pour you some water!"

"We'll trouble you, auntie," Zhao Han said.

The woman looked somewhere between thirty and forty, or perhaps between forty and fifty — it was impossible to accurately gauge her age.

A little child of two or three, a long trail of snot hanging down, was crouched at the doorway sneaking peeks at them. The snot ran down to the upper lip — slurp, sucked back in — then poked out again from the nostril, following its familiar path to flow down anew.

Zhao Han kicked aside a clump of bamboo leaves. The dirt floor was covered with writing, surely done by Xu Ying —

The Master said: "The commander of three armies may be taken, but the will of a common man cannot be taken."

The Master said: "To wear a shabby cotton gown and stand beside one clad in fox and badger furs without feeling shame — is that not You? Neither envious nor covetous, how could he be anything but good..."

"Let's go," Zhao Han said, turning to leave.

By the time they had all vanished from sight, the woman finally came out carrying the water.

In her left hand she held a kettle, in her right three clay bowls — the ones with the fewest chips in the household. And she had just washed them several times over, making sure they were spotlessly clean, so as not to invite disdain from her son's schoolmates.

……

Fei Yuanjian, the more he thought about it, the more panicked he grew. His mind was filled with images of himself being strung up and beaten.

Bullying a classmate was nothing — just a poor, lowborn peasant boy, that was all.

The greatest mistake he had made was throwing the book into the water. Such an act, in the eyes of the Yanshan Fei clan, was no different from deceiving one's teacher and destroying one's ancestors!

Leading his hangers-on to the streamside, he found Xu Ying still in the same spot, unmoving.

This peasant boy sat sprawled with his legs stretched wide, his trousers and shoes soaked through by the stream water. He held the cobblestone inkstone in both hands, staring blankly at the ruined book, his gaze dull, muttering to himself — no telling what he was murmuring.

When Fei Yuanjian drew close enough, he finally made out the words. Xu Ying was reciting the Analects from memory, and reciting Zhu Xi's annotations along with it.

He had been at it for over an hour.

The schoolboys gathered around Xu Ying, but he kept on reciting without pause, not glancing at anyone, as if cut off from the world.

"Has this fellow gone stupid?" one schoolboy said.

"Looks like it to me."

"Hey, Xu Ying, the teacher sent us to fetch you back to study!"

"He really has gone stupid — won't even respond when you talk to him."

"How about slapping him across the face? I've heard that when someone's struck with soul-loss sickness, one slap can wake them up."

"You do it if you want."

"Why should I be the one to do it?"

"..."

The student who was normally bullied at will — now no one dared to touch him. They only circled around him, peering and inspecting.

Fei Yuanjian finally lost patience. He kicked the waterlogged book aside and barked, "Stop playing crazy and acting dumb! Say something!"

That action produced an effect.

Xu Ying, who had been staring fixedly at the book, slowly raised his head toward Fei Yuanjian as the book was kicked away. His recitation grew louder: "The Master said: 'When the Way prevails in the state, speak and act with lofty integrity; when the Way is lost in the state, act with integrity but speak with deference.' 'Act' and 'deference' are both in the departing tone. 'Lofty' means high and steep. 'Deference' means humble and compliant..."

Fei Yuanjian threatened, "I don't care if you're really crazy or faking it. Your book falling into the water has nothing to do with me, young master, and you'd better not go spouting nonsense in front of the teacher. Otherwise, I'll beat you every time I see you!"

Tear stains still on his face, Xu Ying stood up clutching the cobblestone inkstone, his eyes red-rimmed, and stared at Fei Yuanjian: "The Master said: 'The virtuous are sure to have words, but those with words are not sure to be virtuous; the humane are sure to have courage, but the courageous are not sure to be humane.' The virtuous, with harmony and integrity stored within, let their brilliance shine forth..."

Fei Yuanjian felt his heart crawl with dread and instinctively retreated two steps, shouting, "Did you hear me or not!"

"Nangong Kuo asked Confucius, saying: 'Yi was skilled at archery, Ao could push a boat on dry land — yet neither met a natural death. Yu and Ji personally tilled the fields and yet gained the world...'" Xu Ying recited from the Analects as he advanced.

Fei Yuanjian, frightened, retreated again. After a few steps he felt he was losing face, so he steeled his nerves and stood his ground: "Stop playing dumb, I... Ah!"

"The Master said: 'There are gentlemen who are not humane — that does happen. But there has never been a petty man who is humane...'"

Reciting line after line, Xu Ying had already come before Fei Yuanjian. Suddenly he raised the cobblestone inkstone in his hands and brought it smashing down.

Fei Yuanjian let out a miserable cry. Blood streamed from his forehead as he fell backward into the creek.

"Save the young master, quick!" Fei Yuanjian's page boy shouted.

The other schoolboys, terrified by Xu Ying's madness, had all been too afraid to come near.

Now, seeing Fei Yuanjian injured and fallen into the creek, several immediately broke off to rescue him, while the rest subdued Xu Ying together.

Xu Ying offered no resistance at all. After hurling the inkstone, his face was blank, like a dead man's, as he continued reciting the Analects: "The Master said: 'If you love someone, can you spare them hardship? If you are loyal to someone, can you refrain from admonishing them?' Master Su said: 'Love without hardship is the love one gives a calf...'"

Fei Yuanjian's head was spinning. As people struggled to pull him up, he heard panicked shouts beside his ear: "Blood, he's bleeding so much!"

Fei Yuanjian reached up to touch his forehead. There was indeed a great deal of blood. Terrified, he fainted on the spot.

This fellow fainted at the sight of blood — not other people's, only his own.

The schoolboys were utterly flustered. They carried Fei Yuanjian on their backs back to the academy, and marched Xu Ying back as well.

Xu Ying was still wandering in a daze beyond the world, reciting the Collected Commentaries on the Analects without a single error, even surpassing the progress the teacher had covered in class. Since the teacher had not yet explained them, some passages were unclear in meaning, and Xu Ying began silently pondering their principles.

"Doctor, doctor! The young master is bleeding and has fainted!"

Pearl-Containing Academy kept a physician on staff. For everyday headaches and fevers, or injuries from brawls, one could be summoned for treatment at once.

Fei Yuanjian's page boy said, "You all keep watch here. I'm going back to report to the master and madam!"

Pang Chunlai rushed over at the news. He did not ask how badly Fei Yuanjian was hurt, but instead stared at the maddened Xu Ying and demanded in a rage, "What in the world happened to Xu Ying?"

One schoolboy answered, "He struck Fei Yuanjian and made him bleed and pass out."

Pang Chunlai pounded the ground with his cane. "I am asking you people — what happened to Xu Ying!"

"We don't know. Maybe his book fell into the water and he scared himself silly," another schoolboy said.

"Nonsense!"

Pang Chunlai seized one schoolboy. "He values books more than his own life. How could one fall into the water? Speak, or I will summon your parents here!"

That student was badly frightened and stammered, "It... it really was him who dropped his book into the water himself."

Pang Chunlai then seized a comparatively timid one. "If you do not tell the truth, I will expel you from the academy!"

This boy came from a wealthy peasant family. Not daring to look the teacher in the eye, he lowered his head and answered, "I was not the one who threw the book."

"Then who threw it?" Pang Chunlai pressed.

The wealthy peasant's son fell silent, unwilling to lie before the teacher, but also unwilling to name Fei Yuanjian.

"Fine, fine. To dare destroy even the books of the sages — the Fei clan truly has fine family traditions." Pang Chunlai said to the wealthy peasant's son, "Where is the book? Bring it back to me!"

The wealthy peasant's son felt as if granted a great reprieve. He immediately ran to the creek to retrieve the book, and picked up the book bag along the way as well, including the cobblestone inkstone that had wounded Fei Yuanjian.

Schoolboys trickled back one after another, gathering around to watch the excitement.

Before long, that copy of the Collected Commentaries on the Four Books was brought back too.

Pang Chunlai examined the water-ruined book closely, then without a word, took the dazed Xu Ying and, leaning on his cane, went to find the headmaster.

The headmaster was not at the private school, but at Pearl-Containing Academy halfway up the mountain.

Not long after they left, Fei Yuanjian's parents arrived, riding in sedan chairs carried on poles.

The father's face was merely dark and grim, but the mother began to rage before she had even dismounted from the sedan chair.

This was an old woman in her fifties. She had given birth to Fei Yuanjian at forty-two — a son in her old age, whom she had spoiled to the heavens. She shrieked at the top of her lungs, "Who hurt my son? Get out here this instant!"

(End of chapter)