Venerable Master Confucius leaned against the railing and gazed into the distance, sighing softly.
What was a hero? There were always a few things that no one else in the world could accomplish, yet I could.
What was a sage? There were always a few things that everyone in the world could accomplish, yet I could not.
Chen Ping'an said ashamedly, "I am still far from that."
Lü Yan smiled. "Venerable Master Confucius was not talking about you."
Chen Ping'an was no longer embarrassed. "That does not stop this junior from aspiring to it."
Lü Yan rather wanted to share a drink with that Sage of Literature whom he had long heard of but never met.
Just what sort of scholar was capable of teaching Cui Chan, Zuo You, Liu Sixteen, Qi Jingchun, and so many other students, including Chen Ping'an, all in one breath?
Qing Tong rarely saw the young Yin Guan brought low. The corners of his mouth rose, though he quickly suppressed the smile. After all, he and Chen Ping'an were now half-allies in the same boat.
Even if he were truly asked to become a Registered Guest Official of Xiandu Mountain now, he would have no objection at all.
For instance, building a book workshop that printed woodblock editions—spending less than two Valley Rain Coins to earn a measure of merit—was something he could never have thought up even if he cracked his skull open.
Yet Qing Tong could now confirm one thing: this Chen Ping'an was not Zheng Juzhong after all.
Because Qing Tong had secretly asked Venerable Master Confucius through a Mind Message earlier.
Venerable Master Confucius had sounded rather helpless at the time. "Fellow Daoist Qing Tong, your notion truly runs wild as a Heavenly Horse Action. No matter how bold Zheng Juzhong