At midnight, all was still.
Fully dressed, Yang Ge sat upright in a fine room at the inn, slowly leafing through a casually purchased copy of the Confucian classic The Great Learning by the dim yellow light of a lamp.
Perhaps everyone of Huaxia blood awakened a certain innate talent once they reached a certain age: the ability to understand some classical prose and ancient poetry without ever being taught.
And this "understanding" was a peculiar thing.
You could understand what the words meant, but if asked to translate them into plain language, you had to stop and think, carefully arranging your words. Even then, you always felt they fell short, that no phrasing could precisely capture what you felt inside.
It was an awkward sensation, as though the everyday language you had spoken for decades was somehow less concise and accurate than that obscure, tongue-twisting classical prose.
Passages like, "The way of great learning lies in illuminating luminous virtue, in renewing the people, and in resting in the utmost good. Knowing where to rest brings resolve; resolve brings stillness; stillness brings peace; peace brings reflection; reflection brings attainment. Things have roots and branches; affairs have beginnings and ends. Knowing what comes first and what comes after brings one close to the Way."
Any true Huaxia native could recite a few lines while swaying their head.
But only when they reached the age at which those words were meant to be understood could they truly grasp their meaning...
Yang Ge had not understood those passages before, either.
Or rather, he had never been able to quiet his mind enough to revisit those musty old relics.
Given spare time, he had preferred following the crowd and reading a few popular online "literary masterpieces."
Now that he had no choice, picking up