Chapter 446: Some Drunken Ramblings, on Confucius

Some Drunken Ramblings, on Confucius

Some Drunken Ramblings, on Confucius

Only one chapter today, along with some drunken ramblings.

I've been out visiting friends these past few days, and today I arrived in Qufu. I toured the Confucius Temple and the Confucius Mansion. To be honest, I was deeply disappointed and unmoved. Why? There are always people saying that my book, *July*, disparages Confucianism, but in truth, when I was writing *Spring and Autumn*, the character I poured the most energy, time, and emotion into was not Zhao Wuxu, nor Ji Ying — it was Confucius.

From his first appearance in the little courtyard in Lu City, to the capture of the qilin and the laying down of his brush, he is the figure I researched the most and whom I consider the most emotionally complex. The humor of the *Analects*, the earnestness of the *Spring and Autumn Annals*, the grand ambition of Razing the Three Cities, the disappointment of the Lord of Lu failing to send the sacrificial meat, the self-deprecation while trapped between Chen and Cai, the despair of "My Way makes no progress, I shall drift upon the sea" — the man I came to know was a real person.

He was contradictory: a descendant of the Yin-Shang people who revered the Zhou rites as more aligned with benevolence, saying, "How resplendent in culture! I follow the Zhou." He was conservative, believing that in a degenerate age of collapsing rites and corrupted music, restoring the Zhou rites was the best choice. He was progressive: as one of the originators of the private education system, his influence was the greatest, teaching students of vastly different character — Yan Hui, Zigong, Zilu, Ran Qiu — all of whom I depicted with heavy strokes... In short, the man I came to know was an ordinary person! Someone with ideals, who made mistakes, felt loss, hesitated, and in old age attained great enlightenment, wanting to accomplish something. An or-di-nar-y per-son!

In my understanding, this is the Master he was.

Not a Most Sagely Foremost Teacher, meticulously embellished by later dynasties for various purposes!

"Those who understand me, and those who condemn me — will it not all be because of the *Spring and Autumn Annals*?"

This was Confucius's prophecy about himself.

And it was also the closing line of my first book.

Those who understand me call me *Spring and Autumn*; those who condemn me denounce me for feeding them shit.

I have said before: whether a person likes or detests Confucius, esteems or disdains Confucianism, or is even utterly indifferent to it, Confucius has already taken root in the heart of every Chinese person.

No one can ignore him. To desperately deny a person is, in fact, to acknowledge his influence.

Though I humbly believe his greatest achievement was this: he devoted his life to restoring the Zhou rites, yet the private education system he himself pioneered became the very last straw that destroyed those rites.

A restorationist who wanted to revive order became the final straw that destroyed the old era. There is nothing more tragic than that.

For the first time, I wept uncontrollably for a historical figure. Perhaps this is what it means to feel the presence of history.

Every brick and every tree in the Confucius Mansion, the Confucius Temple, and even the Confucius Forest filled me with disgust and sorrow. How utterly at odds this is with Confucius's original intent — to be buried by the Si River, with a grave mound but no tomb.

In short, these are just some thoughts. When drunk, one talks too much, and many words lead to many faults. Just take it as a laugh. Tomorrow my trip ends, and I'll be writing on the high-speed train and plane. The era of *Spring and Autumn* is over; what I must focus on now is *The Qin Official*.

After all this talk, the fundamental goal is really just to find an excuse to delay the update and shut down the complaints of the big shots in the chapter comments.

(End of Chapter)