Chapter 4: Zhou the Juren

Lingshan Academy.

The so‑called Lin Shan City is the mountain adjacent to the Kun Dao Imperial Court's first high mountain, Huang Songshan.

Huang Songshan is shrouded in clouds and mist year‑round, its slopes covered with pines and cypresses; legend says that a thousand years ago a celestial practitioner opened a cave dwelling there to cultivate, but whether that is true remains unverified.

In contrast, the academy at the mountain's waist is enveloped in mist each morning and evening, giving it an otherworldly, detached aura.

Lingshan Academy stands on a spacious spot less than a hundred meters from the summit, and ordinary students must climb nearly ten thousand meters of steps to go up or down the mountain.

Naturally, some scholars cannot climb, but those with means will have footmen at the foot of the mountain carry them up.

Those without money must train their leg strength.

Usually Zhao Jinzhong climbs the mountain himself, but today he unusually rode a simple sedan carried by two footmen back to the academy's main gate.

"Thank you, talented master!!"

The two footmen, not a drop of sweat on their faces, gladly took Zhao Jinzhong's silver coins and waited at the gate, expecting scholars descending the mountain.

Zhao Jinzhong furrowed his brows: "It's so late, no one's coming down, so why are you still standing here?"

"Oh, right, you're right!"

The two footmen gave an awkward smile, glanced at the setting sun overhead, scratched their heads and lowered the sedan down the mountain.

Zhao Jinzhong couldn't help but shake his head.

Fools are everywhere.

"Even if you don't study, you should at least be like Yan Buji, that old slickster, and have some skill. Otherwise you'll have to rely on brute force to earn money—truly low‑class," Zhao Jinzhong muttered, showing no respect for these people at all.

In Zhao Jinzhong's eyes, everything is inferior except scholarship.

Even the richest man in Lin Shan City would gladly spend his own money to join the Spring Literary Assembly, wouldn't he?

Heh heh heh.

"Brother Zhao!"

"Brother Zhao, how's it going? Has that old slickster been negligent?"

Zhao Jinzhong looked at his friends and laughed: "You say that, but can Yan Buji, that 'boss', earn such a fortune by being a mere mediocre?"

A few scholars' eyes lit up: "So you mean, it's settled!"

"Exactly as I thought. After presenting Zhou Hua, that old lecher's letter, he indeed agreed without a word!"

"Even so, that's truly wonderful."

One scholar beside him hesitated: "But after all, Zhou Hua, that old lecher… he may have talent, but his character is truly a bit… wouldn't our move be a trap for Yan Buji?"

Zhao Jinzhong raised an eyebrow: "Huafeng, you say that, making it sound like I'm a pimp?"

Huafeng's expression startled, and he quickly clasped his hands: "Brother Zhao, calm down. I simply cannot stand Zhou Hua, that old ghost; a man of such age still clinging to the bedroom, truly... contrary to the cultivation of us scholars."

"Hmph, how many people beg to give their daughters to that old lecher?! That lecher's standards are so high, he might not even favor Yan Buji's daughter. Even if he does, I reckon Yan Buji would be more pleased, huh? Heh heh heh," Zhao Jinzhong sneered.

"That may be so, but this time you went to Yan Residence, Brother Zhao, have you seen Yan Xirou?"

"No, but I've seen Yan Buji; his bearing isn't lacking, with a vibe of an ancient general, so his daughter should be comparable," Zhao Jinzhong thought for a moment and said.

"Alas, Juren sir... I've spent my life waiting to see if luck lets me pass the imperial exam. As for you, Brother Zhao, you truly have a chance to advance a few more steps; then wealth, honor, and unrivaled beauty will be within easy reach," the scholar beside him sighed, his envy unmistakable.

Zhao Jinzhong's smile deepened, yet he reassured them: "Everyone has a chance; aside from everything else, isn't the Spring Literary Assembly a good opportunity?!"

"Indeed, let's prepare early."

"Alright!"

The few went their separate ways; the setting sun finally slipped toward the western side of Huang Songshan, and a star‑sprinkled night fell over Lin Shan City.

Late at night.

Yan Buji sat alone in his study, rolling his prayer beads, eyes closed, pondering something.

"Zhou Hua, in the third month, fifth day, year 13 of the Huang Li calendar, you passed the provincial exam of the Kun Dao Imperial Court, but in the following decades there's been no progress. Your writings—those few books—are rather mediocre, a sour rot."

"Later, apparently utterly disillusioned with the exams, you were recruited by your friend, Li Fengping, dean of Lingshan Academy. Day after day you lived in a dream, lingering in grand mansions, indulging in exquisite bedroom affairs. Yet I've never heard of you harming respectable women; instead scholars praise you as 'old yet youthful at heart' and 'growing stronger with age'."

Yan Buji thought: "Scheming against Zhou Hua is easy, but Li Fengping isn't someone to trifle with. Though he's long retired, he spent the first half of his life as an official in the court, and later resigned to become dean of Lingshan Academy; even the prefect of Lin Shan City treated him with utmost respect, so he likely still has connections in the bureaucracy."

Not to mention that in recent years many graduates of Lingshan Academy have entered officialdom, some of whom studied under Li Fengping.

These people can be called a 'scholarly clique'; they have their own circles, which he cannot infiltrate to gather information.

Precisely for this reason, Yan Buji doesn't even dare to ask his well‑connected prefect about him.

Yan Buji's eyes flickered; his goal concerns a person at the Spring Literary Assembly, so everything must be prepared.

Whether before or after, any measure that can avoid trouble must be considered.

For this day, he has been preparing for a full twenty years!

Heaven and earth are aligned; only a bit of luck remains.

So how to avoid Li Fengping detecting his scheme?

Someone who can serve in the court and emerge unscathed, then still thrive back home, is not to be underestimated even with age.

"The plan need not be altered for now; if Rou Er performs well, no further action is required. But if that old fellow's standards are high, we'll need some tactics. Such a person has little guard against women, yet if my expectations materialize and attract Li Fengping's attention, that would be undesirable."

Yan Buji never treats anyone as a fool; some matters they might not notice at the time, but what follows remains unknown.

He needs an identity to attend the Spring Literary Assembly; otherwise it's all empty talk!

Zhao Jinzhong, as a jinshi, has no right to bring his merchant self inside; even if he pays, he can't enter—it's a scholars' gathering, not his.

He also doesn't wish to attract too much attention, but if Zhou Hua, the juren, vouches, there's no problem.

These scholars, even though all hail from the academy, still engage in open and covert rivalry, each proud not to be outshone; let alone me, a merchant.

Scholars, peasants, artisans, and merchants remain the harshest hierarchy in the Kun Dao Imperial Court.

Even with wealth, what does it matter?

So why did Yan Buji abandon the imperial exams, yet establish such a vast enterprise in Lin Shan City?