Chapter 502: A Tiger That Devours Ten Thousand Li!

The sunlight fell warm and gentle.

In that pale-gold light, there was a thinness that did not quite suit the season.

In the lands south of the river, the Qin Wang's coming-of-age ceremony—months in the making—had finally taken shape. Pole after pole of great banners thrust toward the sky; though they had not yet been unfurled, one could already imagine how magnificent the sight would be when those countless crimson banners rolled and billowed open.

Qu Hanxiu looked upon this scene, and the usually staid old scholar was moved almost to tears.

At last, it was done!

The old Confucian cursed inwardly.

That Qin Wang truly lived up to being a young man, and truly lived up to his title of Wu Wang—his temperament was like a wild horse that had slipped its bridle, utterly impossible to restrain with the rules of propriety.

Such a bold hero was rarely seen even in the annals of history.

Such a fierce, biting spirit would, along the road ahead, meet danger after danger, challenge after challenge, countless hardships and perils at his side; such men often did not live long, but however many years they lived, they were always a raging force that tore apart the age they lived in.

Qu Hanxiu was a man devoted to the rites and proprieties of the old order, and more than once he had been so startled by His Highness the Prince of Qin that his spirit scattered and his eyes went dark—for instance, when the Prince of Qin was enfeoffed as king and those three arrows were loosed, Qu Hanxiu had been pressed down into his seat.

In truth, it was not that the Qin Wang had used force to press Qu Hanxiu down.

It was simply that Qu Hanxiu had watched the old order of the world crumble and fall apart before his very eyes, and a man of seventy or eighty years truly could not withstand that kind of spiritual shock—his legs had gone weak.

He wished he could faint on the spot.

Back when the Chen state's Prince of Puyang, Chen Fubi, had deposed and installed an Emperor—

Qu Hanxiu had also cursed that young man to his face; even with a wolf-blade at his throat, his legs had not gone weak, his gaze fierce and furious. That was because Yu Langwang, because the Divine Martial King, however much he defied the classics and rebelled, had still never managed to tear apart the rites and proprieties of that age.

The Divine Martial King had done as he pleased.

It seemed he had broken the rites, but the very things he did in order to break the so-called constraints of propriety proved that that bold and valiant king, at that age and in that period, still had his heart bound within the framework of "ritual."

Only the Qin Wang—

Among all the bold heroes he had seen in his life, only he.

In those eyes, Qu Hanxiu saw no respect for ritual, nor any defiance or provocation toward the rites—only pure disregard, as though looking upon something rotten, something bound to collapse.

A cold, vast disregard.

That was what truly made Qu Hanxiu's heart tremble.

But then again, such a Qin Wang was also about to have his coming-of-age ceremony.

Qu Hanxiu could not help shaking his head and sighing. The Qin Wang's achievements were simply too dazzling. Among the worthy kings through the ages, those who after seven years of campaigning had built such a foundation were not, strictly speaking, unheard of—but seven years of campaigning, and through hard, head-on clashes, carving out such a domain—

And he was only twenty, the age of the coming-of-age ceremony—truly absurd, absurd.

Never seen since ancient times.

Qu Hanxiu calculated in his heart what kind of reputation this coming-of-age ceremony he was presiding over would leave for posterity, and was so thoroughly satisfied that even the hunger pangs from his belly seemed to vanish.

He looked up and saw Nan Hanwen over there—twenty years his junior, still a junior in his eyes—hurrying past, not knowing what he was busy with.

Qu Hanxiu called out to Nan Hanwen.

"Xiuye, Xiuye…"

Nan Hanwen, courtesy name Xiuye.

Nan Hanwen raised his head, saw this great Confucian scholar of Central Province, lifted his brow, restrained the impulse to turn around and stride off, and on the surface very respectfully performed a salute, saying: "So it is Master Qu, old Master Qu."

"I wonder what matter you have stopped me for."

Qu Hanxiu said with great composure and arrogance: "When an elder calls you to a halt, must there necessarily be some official business? Young man, how rude!"

Nan Hanwen restrained the impulse to flip this fellow onto the ground and kick him a couple of times.

Inwardly he cursed him as a shameless old fool, a great idiot.

On the surface, however, he seemed to agree with him.

Respectfully he said: "What you say is right, my lord. It is simply that my study of 'ritual' is not yet deep enough. Please allow me to take my leave here, go back and read through the rites thoroughly, and after a few years, when my understanding of the classics of 'ritual' is clearer, I shall come and apologize to you."

"Farewell."

Qu Hanxiu raised his hand and pressed down on Nan Hanwen's shoulder: "Stop."

Nan Hanwen's brow twitched, and he sighed, saying:

"Do you have any further instruction, old Master Qu?"

Qu Hanxiu could not help frowning and said: "Two words of admonishment and you already start getting impatient—no patience at all. How is it that your temperament is just like your teacher Dantai Xianming's?"

Nan Hanwen's steps halted. He thought of that figure he had once admired, and said in a low voice: "Although I serve under the Chancellor, there is no formal master-and-disciple bond between us. Senior Qu, do not get it wrong."

Qu Hanxiu stared at him, then said dismissively: "Enough, enough. Whether you are Dantai Xianming's disciple or not, today this old man is hungry. You are the younger generation—ought you not to treat this old man to a meal?"

Nan Hanwen laughed in spite of his anger.

Grabbing him on the main avenue just to get a meal?

But he also knew Qu Hanxiu really had no money left.

Qu Hanxiu was an official of the Ministry of Rites in Central Province. Setting everything else aside, given the recent status and circumstances of the Red Emperor's line in Central Province, the grand ceremony of all states paying court together to Central Province had long ceased to exist—the Ministry of Rites was a sinecure.

In Nan Hanwen's eyes, Qu Hanxiu—

Was a rigid, inflexible old fellow.

Yet also cunning and sly, repeatedly trying to use the rites and proprieties to shackle His Majesty the Qin Wang.

Greedy for fame, trading on his seniority. His greatest aim at present was to leverage the Qin Wang's coming-of-age ceremony to successfully leave his own name in the green annals of history; for this he could sacrifice many other things. A thoroughly annoying man.

But it was also true he had no money left.

The gift of a thousand gold in ceremonial money from His Highness the Prince of Qin had been squeezed dry out of Qu Hanxiu.

Even after being squeezed completely dry it still wasn't enough, so he had signed quite a few outside debts—signing contracts of pledged goods with the accompanying scholars and great Confucians, agreeing that after this affair, upon returning to Central Province, he would give those treasured calligraphy, paintings, scrolls, and ancient books of his to these scholars and great Confucians.

But Qu Hanxiu was mad with the desire for fame, mad with the desire to leave his name in the green annals.

Even so, he still wanted to ride the long wind of the Qin Wang's coming-of-age ceremony.

At present he was truly destitute.

Nan Hanwen looked this stiff old fellow up and down, and said: "Enough, then. But I am only a very marginal official of Great Chen; even if I have a little money in hand, it isn't much—I cannot treat you to any rare delicacies."

Qu Hanxiu was overjoyed, but still raised his chin slightly, and said in a refined, bookish tone:

"Dwelling in a humble room, a single basket of food, a single gourd of drink—yet not altering his joy."

"This much will suffice."

Nan Hanwen sighed and said, "Then follow me."

A moment later, Qu Hanxiu, now fully attired as a Ministry of Rites official, stared wide-eyed at the bustling shop ahead, at the common folk passing by who gazed at him with curiosity—my lord still showed some consideration, but those children truly had no manners at all.

Just staring at him like that, wide-eyed and unblinking.

As though looking at some rare and exotic beast that wouldn't normally appear here.

Qu Hanxiu puffed up angrily: "Where is this?!"

Nan Hanwen sat down with practiced ease and said:

"Two bowls of duck-blood vermicelli soup, a plate of fresh-baked sesame flatbreads, and a small dish of pickled radish slices. Elder Qu, please sit. Don't be fooled by how ordinary these things look—they taste wonderful."

"The weather's been strange lately, snow drifting everywhere. Eating something like this warms you right up."

The corner of Qu Hanxiu's temple twitched. "This is improper!"

Nan Hanwen said, "Are you going to eat or not?"

Qu Hanxiu was silent for a long moment, then plopped himself down. "Eat!"

Only now did Nan Hanwen feel this old fellow was finally showing a little sense. He said unhurriedly, "It seems even Elder Qu, who is so well-versed in propriety, still gets hungry."

Qu Hanxiu replied as though it were the most natural thing in the world: "Hunger and thirst are human instincts. Human instinct, the matter of the spirit—that is the most fundamental propriety. What restrains human instinct is not 【Ritual】, but merely 【Law】."

Nan Hanwen raised an eyebrow. Hearing Qu Hanxiu lay out the difference between the Confucian and Legalist schools in a single sentence, he felt this old fellow did have some real skill after all.

Eating these things for the first time, Qu Hanxiu didn't know what to do. He watched how other people ate, learning as he went. But these common street foods didn't blend with what he had been taught, and trying to pick it up on the spot left him inevitably flustered and clumsy.

Finally, the last child—who had been staring at his big beard and his utterly magnificent clothes that had no business being here—burst out laughing.

She said with a grin, "That's not how you eat it!"

Eighty-year-old Qu Hanxiu said, "Oh? Then how should one eat it? Please, teach me."

The child sat on one of those tall stools, legs swinging back and forth. She took out a freshly baked flatbread, looking very much like a tiny grown-up, and said in an unhurried tone, "Alright, if you want to learn, I'll teach you."

"This flatbread—you can eat it plain, you can soak it in soup, however you like. Just pick it up and bite into it."

"Like you just did, Grandpa—grabbing chopsticks first, grabbing the dish first, all that—it's so weird. Where do all those rules come from? Some people eat it like this."

"First drink the soup plain, eat the flatbread plain, taste the grain fragrance inside."

"Then tear off a little piece, soak it in the duck-blood soup, let it soak up all that duck flavor, and when you eat it, it's just like duck meat—soft and warm!"

"I've never actually eaten duck meat, so I figure duck meat tastes just like this!"

As the little girl spoke, she swung her feet proudly.

Although she had never tasted duck, her eyes were shining, and her proud, beaming smile showed no trace of shame or self-consciousness about never having eaten duck meat—only pride at having figured out what duck meat must taste like.

Nan Hanwen saw that Qu Hanxiu had not laughed at the child, but nodded in admiration and said:

"I see. Little Mr., your insight is profound."

The child was delighted at being called "Little Mr." She blinked, raised a small hand to her mouth, and said to Qu Hanxiu in a cautious yet proud tone, "W-well, since you've already called me Little Mr., I can't hold anything back."

"Here—this is my treasured way of eating it!"

The little girl raised her eyebrows, then held up the half-flatbread that was left, stood it upright, poked a hole in the soft middle of the bread, and squeezed hard, so the middle of the half-flatbread became a little hollow.

She used her chopsticks to pick up some duck blood, duck giblets, and pickled radish, and stuffed them all inside. Holding it in her small hand, she opened her mouth wide and took a big bite. The moment it entered her mouth, the chewy, wheat-fragrant bread, the soft duck blood, the crisp giblets, the radish—all the different textures appeared at once.

The little girl's eyes curved into crescents.

"This is the most delicious thing in the whole world!"

"I've taught you now!"

Qu Hanxiu said earnestly, "Many thanks, Little Mr."

Then he came back, picked up the thing with his chopsticks, took a bite, and his eyebrows relaxed. He ate in a manner that was both proper and extremely fast—proof that he was truly hungry. Nan Hanwen sighed, unable to bear it, and said:

"Shopkeeper, another bowl of vermicelli soup and one flatbread."

Qu Hanxiu held up a finger: "Three flatbreads. Three."

Nan Hanwen looked at him.

Qu Hanxiu said with a smile, "Three gives birth to the myriad things. The number three is auspicious."

Nan Hanwen had no choice but to tell the shopkeeper, "Make it three, then."

"You got it, just a moment please."

The shopkeeper turned to prepare the order. When the child over there was leaving, Qu Hanxiu rose and gave a slight bow to see her off—a remarkably courteous and proper gesture. Others laughed at the old fellow, but he paid no heed to their stares.

In this respect, he seemed to be a man who did not set much store by reputation.

Nan Hanwen said, "Elder Qu is... rather different."

Qu Hanxiu, meticulous as ever, said after settling back into his seat: "The Dao comes to one earlier or later, and each craft has its own mastery. When one gains knowledge from another, whatever kind of knowledge it may be, one should observe the propriety owed to a teacher."

"That too is 【Ritual】."

Nan Hanwen said, "Even if it's only a child?"

Qu Hanxiu was surprised, and countered, "Are you more talented and learned than every person younger than you?"

Nan Hanwen didn't quite know how to answer. Qu Hanxiu looked around and said, "In the city where His Highness Qin Wang resides, the common folk carry a different air. That air makes one feel—this place is comfortable."

Nan Hanwen said, "What?"

Qu Hanxiu finished off a flatbread at an extremely rapid pace.

Then he said, "This bowl of piping-hot vermicelli soup, this fresh-baked flatbread—that counts for something. Other places naturally have common folk who can easily afford to eat such things, but the brows of those folk are furrowed—even the children's are."

"They would never have that natural, lively air in their eyes and brows that the people of Qin Wang's domain have."

"In their country, it always feels as though a great mountain is pressing down on their brows and shoulders."

Qu Hanxiu was silent for a while, then spoke of his own accord: "Actually, when Marshal Yue set out with his army, many officials of the Ministry of Rites voiced protests and condemnations. They believed that as long as the four quarters were not at war, the realm could be at peace."

"However, this is merely the view of a scholar."

"In truth, the waging of war only means that the undercurrents hidden within this realm have already grown so vast and violent that the noble houses, no matter what they do, can no longer suppress them. Only when things have reached such a point does sending troops to war truly represent compliance with the will of the people."

"Therefore, this old man blocked them."

"And continued to push forward Qin Wang's capping ceremony."

Nan Hanwen seemed to be seeing this old man for the first time—this rigid, cunning, fame-seeking old fellow. The latter sat primly, holding a bowl of vermicelli soup, and said: "Before, this old man was kept awake for days by Qin Wang's three arrows, and that one line…"

"'I call upon the world to lay down its lives,' it shook me so that I could not sleep for days."

"Do you think this old man is a coward?"

Nan Hanwen slowly nodded and said: "A little."

Qu Hanxiu said: "Rites are the standards that bind the world, the foundation of an age. To call upon the world to lay down its lives is to destroy such a foundation and such standards. But, Nan Hanwen…"

This old man, who had already lived through eighty years of chaos, fixed Nan Hanwen with a pained gaze and said: "Even a rotten order is still order. It must surpass a world utterly stripped of propriety, righteousness, shame, and moral standards."

"If one were simply to call upon the world to lay down its lives, to shatter this realm's original order and rites with the bold valor of a mere warrior, it would only drive this age toward even greater chaos—unless…"

Qu Hanxiu's voice turned decisive: "A new order is rebuilt."

"New 'rites' and moral standards are established anew."

"Bound by rites, restrained by law—only then can the world be reborn."

"That is what it truly means to let the old world lay down its life."

"Before, this old man did not believe in him. Now, this old man does."

The disdain Nan Hanwen had felt in his heart dissolved little by little. He looked at this rigid old fellow before him, and a faint tremor of emotion stirred in his eyes. Perhaps, in an age where rites had collapsed and music had gone awry, to still become a renowned scholar of rites and propriety already meant something in itself.

He said: "Because of Qin Wang's magnanimity?"

Qu Hanxiu said: "No."

"Because of that little Mr. I just kowtowed to."

Nan Hanwen was puzzled. Qu Hanxiu, this rigid, fame-seeking great Confucian, lowered his gaze and looked at the steaming flatbread. It was a perfect flatbread—clean, neat, carrying the scent of meat.

He smiled and said:

"A child who has the mind and the time to ponder how simple food should be eaten, and who is faintly, quietly proud of it—this is what an age of great peace should look like."

"In this child, this old man glimpsed the 'rites' that Qin Wang is about to establish."

Nan Hanwen's face was moved.

Qu Hanxiu paused, suddenly realizing something. His eyes widened slightly as he said: "You don't actually think this old man is some stubborn stickler for rites, some old fossil who would take any random child as a teacher the moment they taught him something, do you?"

Nan Hanwen's gaze shifted, his expression unchanged: "Of course not."

"Lord Qu, your virtue soars ten thousand zhang, your talent pierces the heavens—how could I possibly look down on you?"

Qu Hanxiu was so irritated he wanted to slap the flatbread in his hand across this old youngster's face, but he could not bear to ruin the flatbread he had at last managed to fill. In the end, he could only say: "Enough!"

"Of course it is because, during this period, I have gradually glimpsed new possibilities for this realm. Were it not so, how would this old man have been so eager to borrow money just to get into Qin Wang's capping ceremony? And to stay here all this time?"

"Damn it all—how are those renowned scholars and great Confucians so rich!"

"I saw Qin Wang's great army invincible on all sides, and saw only cruelty; I saw Qin Wang's three arrows settle the morale of the realm, and felt only bold valor. But only today, in this bowl of duck-blood vermicelli soup brimming with the warmth of the human world, did I finally see the peace of the realm."

Nan Hanwen looked at this old man, who even now still sat ramrod-straight, and merely smiled: "Old sir."

"What?"

"The vermicelli's gone mushy."

Qu Hanxiu was stunned, and at last broke into a delighted smile.

After finishing this bowl of steaming, warm vermicelli soup, the warmth of the human world, the gentle taste of peace, seemed to flow into every corner of his body. Qu Hanxiu rose. The renowned scholar of the realm, the foremost old man of the Ministry of Rites, turned, paused, and looked sideways at Nan Hanwen over there, saying:

"There are still five days until Qin Wang's capping ceremony."

"This is the beginning of a new rite being established. For this capping ceremony, this old man will surely seize the chance to make his name immortal. To have such an opportunity, I will not let it slip. Therefore, no matter what, I will see this capping ceremony through."

The old man gazed at Nan Hanwen and said:

"Even if Qin Wang is not in Jiangnan."

Nan Hanwen's pupils contracted sharply.

Cold sweat broke out across his back.

Qu Hanxiu turned and paced away, every movement precise and proper, as if following the rites of old, walking into the bustling mortal world. Though they were not companions on the same path, each had his own devotion, each his own perseverance.

The world roils, with heroes and champions aplenty.

None can be underestimated.

Four days remained before Qin Wang's capping ceremony. It was a starless, moonless night; the sky was still dim and had not yet brightened. The lord and the garrison commander of Yicheng slept soundly, each with his own thoughts.

The soldiers guarding the city were also drowsy, only vaguely sensing the earth trembling. Waking under such circumstances, they groggily opened their eyes—and in an instant, their bodies went rigid.

The great sun hung above.

Yet there was a presence that could eclipse the great sun.

Silent and soundless, yet bearing a terrifying pressure.

A host of thousands upon thousands of riders, in ink-dark armor, mounted on dragon steeds eight feet at the shoulder, like a flood, had already arrived within sight of the city before being discovered.

Yet in the eyes of everyone in the capital of Chen, this moment was still an age of peace.

Yue Pengwu's battle line was still hundreds of li away.

The farthest of the other directions was a full thousand li distant. This was a great distance—great enough that the dreamlike illusion of an age of peace still lingered in people's hearts. The Right Chancellor had issued three plans in succession, seeking a way out.

The chief steward swallowed two million taels of silver, intending to secure a safe retreat.

Others tried clutching land deeds and indentures, their minds full of thoughts of ten thousand mu of land to come, and a thousand servants to attend them. These were the ones with the foresight to prepare an escape. Young Ladies and Ladies strolled admiringing the snow-blooming flowers; maidservants teased and laughed with one another.

Colored silks and brocades fluttered like butterflies; laughter rang as sweetly as silver bells, drawing the attention of talents and Young Masters not far away.

Talents composed verses in pairs; Young Masters chatted and laughed with easy grace.

The warm breeze intoxicated the wandering visitors, yet one saw towers rising layer upon layer, ten upon ten. The days were warm and languid; horses' hooves trod across the bluestone slabs, as if passing through a dream that would never wake. That languid, bone-deep softness of the taste of peace truly made one drunk with contentment.

Until—

The sound of hooves shattered this languid, intoxicating air of peace!

A great banner pierced the heavens, standards snapping and rolling, an aura of stern, killing cold rushing head-on.

Cold pierced to the bone, sword Qi grim and austere.

A great crimson banner patterned with a Fire Qilin snapped and rolled, bearing a single character.

Shattering every dreamlike bubble!

All returned to the void.

It reads—

【Qin】!

On this day, Qin Wang attacked the pass at Yicheng.

Taken in half a day.

?? Begging for monthly votes, friends~

? Hard to write, damn it, my schedule's collapsed again (serenely)

? Good night everyone, don't stay up late