The sky had cleared, and the accumulated snow in the imperial capital of Luoyang City had finally melted. Only scattered patches remained on the eaves, while meltwater dripped down the branches, pattering like a light rain. The air had turned cold and damp.
Many days had passed since He An's arranged duel with Sun Biao. Afterward, Sun Biao had honored his promise and sent someone to deliver a banknote worth a hundred taels of silver to He An. Their match had become a favorite topic among the students over tea and meals, and had also sparked a craze for martial training within the Knowledge and Practice Institute.
Students with an aptitude for cultivation naturally refused to fall behind. Their enthusiasm for studying martial arts reached unprecedented heights, and the doors of the Martial Institute's teachers were frequently knocked upon. Some students even came seeking instruction late at night.
Those without an aptitude for cultivation buried themselves in their studies at the Literary Institute, hoping to place well in the major examination for new students and earn a Spirit-Returning Pill, which would transform them down to their very bones and allow them to enter the martial path.
He An had become a prominent figure among the Knowledge and Practice Institute's new students. Wherever he went lately, unfamiliar students would strike up enthusiastic conversations with him, while some particularly bold, outgoing female students cast him admiring, worshipful looks.
The people of the Great Chen Empire prized martial prowess. Every youth who knew no sorrow dreamed of roaming the world with a sword, freely repaying kindness and settling grudges. He An's bearing in the arena had fulfilled all their imaginings of a martial artist: handsome and spirited, young and accomplished. It was little wonder they were captivated by him.
Every day, an endless stream of students came to visit and seek advice, drawn by his reputation. He An felt ill at ease with it all. At first, he received them warmly, but once he realized these pointless social obligations were disrupting his studies and training, he simply hid away or kept his door shut.
Fan Dazhi, on the other hand, would often cradle a cup of tea and chat cheerfully with the visiting students. As they gradually grew familiar with one another, some even invited him out for drinks. The fellow never seemed to tire of it, and his disposition slowly became more cheerful and outgoing, much to He An's surprise.
During those same few days, a major event shook both the court and the country: Grand Tutor Tang Zan had retired from office and returned to his hometown.
Tang Zan had originally been the deputy magistrate of Pujiang County in Chengdu Commandery. An upright and selfless man, he had spent his entire family fortune to follow the Former Emperor in raising a rebellion, rendering outstanding service.
Because the Grand Tutor served the country with loyalty and integrity and dared to offer frank counsel even at the risk of offending his sovereign, the Former Emperor Zhao Zhen had praised him highly. He often said, "With history as a mirror, one can understand rise and decline; with Zan as a mirror, one can discern gains and losses!"
Ever since Emperor Chen, Zhao Chang, had succeeded to the throne, he too had shown the Grand Tutor great respect, praising him as "a man of noble character, a pillar of the nation!" At the morning court session, Emperor Chen expressed his deep reluctance to part with the Grand Tutor. As he recalled the past, his voice grew heavy with grief, and tears filled his tiger-like eyes. The Grand Tutor was advanced in years and often longed for home, wishing to return to his roots like fallen leaves. He refused to spend his remaining years in comfort in the imperial capital, leaving Emperor Chen no choice but to allow him to return home in honor.
Yet another version of events quietly circulated at court. It was said that a memorial submitted by the Grand Tutor had greatly displeased Emperor Chen. Its criticism of the maladies of the age had been fiercely worded, and it contained numerous sensitive phrases such as "punishing the crimes of unruly subjects," "arrogance, extravagance, debauchery, and indolence," and "factional strife." In a fit of anger, Emperor Chen had dismissed this first-rank court official.
Grand Tutor Tang Zan and Imperial Preceptor Li Xingzhi had always enjoyed a close personal friendship, and Tang Zan held the Knowledge and Practice Institute in the highest regard. When the emperor had first permitted the Cui Family to establish the Dragon Gate Academy, the Grand Tutor had also been the most vehement opponent at court.
Many at court recalled this connection, and when they reconsidered the entire affair, they immediately detected something unusual. "Factional strife, the scourge of partisan purges." His Majesty had acted with the swiftness of thunder, directly dismissing a veteran statesman who had rendered great service to the nation. Were the heavens about to change again?
Beyond the farewell pavilion, beside the ancient road, there stood an ox cart and a single servant. The white-haired Grand Tutor clasped his hands in farewell amid the biting wind, then climbed into the cart and departed despondently, leaving the officials who had come to see him off sighing with sorrow...
At court, everyone feared for their own safety. Many began weighing every word in the memorials they submitted. A cold current seemed to spread as the snow and ice melted outside. That winter, the imperial capital of Luoyang City seemed especially bitter.
He An sat in his seat, listening attentively to the teacher at the front. Today's lesson was taught by Lin Qiu Chi. As one of the few female teachers in the Knowledge and Practice Institute, she drew considerable attention from the students. Her subject was mathematical arts, which gave them more headaches than any other.
Her glossy black hair was gathered into a married woman's bun at the back of her head and wrapped in a blue-and-white square kerchief. Wearing a blue robe fastened down the front, she stood before the class with a graceful, lovely face and only a few wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. Lin Qiu Chi looked to be little more than thirty, yet her voice was as chilly as the wind outside.
"Of the three arithmetic problems on yesterday's test, everyone got something wrong... only Fan Dazhi answered all three correctly!"
As soon as she finished speaking, a buzz of conversation rose below. Some students stole glances at Fan Dazhi's ungainly, obese figure and could not help snickering.
Lin Qiu Chi said nothing. Only once the room had gradually quieted did her clear, cold voice sound again.
"Mathematical arts spring from the mind. You must not judge people by their appearance!"
Those words were plainly praise for Fan Dazhi.
"Open your test papers and look at the third problem: 'How can you measure the height of the Knowledge and Practice Tower?' Just look at what you wrote! Your answers run the whole gamut. Some are such flights of fancy that I can hardly bear to read them!"
Lin Qiu Chi's face remained expressionless, but her voice was especially stern. "And yet... I truly cannot understand how some of you still have the face to laugh at others."
She rubbed her clean hands together, shifted the disciplinary ruler on her desk aside, and swept an indifferent gaze over the students.
"Fan Dazhi's answer required only a wooden stick and a ruler. Plant the stick beside the Knowledge and Practice Tower in the sunlight. When the stick's shadow is the same length as the stick, measure the length of the tower's shadow and half the length of one side of the tower's base. Add those two lengths together, and you have the height of the Knowledge and Practice Tower."
After explaining this calmly, Lin Qiu Chi added, "This is the best answer I have seen in ten years!"
The classroom fell so silent that not even a crow or sparrow could be heard. Some students now looked at Fan Dazhi in a distinctly different light.
"The greatest pitfall in studying is to read without understanding. Grasping the principles and putting them to good use is the finest path! Perhaps some of you privately dismiss mathematical arts as useless. But do you know that there was once a master of these arts who, all by himself, calculated the height of the valleys on Nine Peaks Mountain, the extent of the mist covering them, and the lengths and depths of the nearby rivers? Using just a few combinatorial calculations and the lay of the land, he set up a Nine Palaces Soul-Maze Formation and trapped a hundred thousand soldiers of the Great Liang Kingdom of the Former Dynasty..."
The students erupted into an uproar. Amid the clicks of admiration, sharp intakes of breath, and buzzing discussions, the bell rang to mark the end of class.
"That master of mathematical arts was none other than the director of the Knowledge and Practice Institute, Li Xingzhi!"
Lin Qiu Chi delivered those words calmly, picked up the stack of lesson notes on her desk, and quietly departed with the same unruffled air.
The classroom grew noisy again. Looking at his own test paper, He An could not help feeling a little lost. Of the three problems, he had answered one correctly and another incorrectly. For the remaining problem, his method had been right, but his final answer had been wrong, so the teacher had awarded him half credit.
He An's head buzzed. The students around him were discussing something loudly, but none of it reached him. Only the teacher's parting words kept repeating in his mind.
"That master of mathematical arts was none other than the director of the Knowledge and Practice Institute, Li Xingzhi!"
So the legendary Imperial Preceptor and institute director, Li Xingzhi, had not only reached the pinnacle of martial cultivation, but was also a master of mathematical arts!
Perhaps only such exceptional men could master everything and understand all things. In the end, my own aptitude is simply too dull...
"Hey... hey! Big Brother, why are you spacing out? Help me take a look. How do you solve this problem?"
Han Chanjuan frowned and tapped her fingers against the desk, interrupting He An's thoughts.
He glanced at Han Chanjuan's test paper. She had gotten all three problems wrong, and the one she was asking him about was one he had gotten wrong too.
"Your big brother doesn't know either. Better ask your second brother!"
He An did not know whether to laugh or cry. He pointed to the side, only to discover that Fan Dazhi's seat was empty. At some point, he had vanished.
The classroom seating had recently been rearranged. Most of the girls sat toward the front, while Ding Wenruo still chose a spot by the window in the corner. Fan Dazhi and He An shared a desk, sitting side by side behind a group of girls.
Han Chanjuan had deliberately chosen the seat directly in front of He An. During breaks, she would occasionally turn around and glance at the two brothers, then slip her little hand behind her back to leave a handful of snacks on He An's desk. Most of them, however, ended up being enjoyed by Second Brother Fan.
At that moment, Second Brother Fan had his backside sticking up as he rummaged through the brazier with a pair of bamboo charcoal tongs. A large crowd, including the cross-eyed Zhuge Guagua and Xu Zhen, had gathered around him. After a while, Fan Dazhi dug out several sweet potatoes roasted black, and everyone leaped and cheered...
Fan Dazhi returned to his seat beaming, constantly tossing a scalding sweet potato from one hand to the other. He eagerly peeled away its charred skin, blew on the steaming flesh, and offered it to He An. He An smiled and shook his head. Fan Dazhi stood on no ceremony and began wolfing it down.
The sweet potato burned his mouth, and Fan Dazhi noisily sucked in cool air while savoring every bite, smacking his lips with outrageous gusto. He wiped his runny nose, smearing charcoal dust from his hand into black streaks across his face and upper lip. In an instant, he became a little black-faced fat boy with a mustache, making the girls who turned to look cover their mouths and laugh.
"Oh dear! Second Brother Fan, you must have been a starving ghost in your last life! Here, wipe your face clean afterward. I still need you to explain the problems to me!"
At the sight of Fan Dazhi, Han Chanjuan could not help covering her mouth with her delicate hand, her eyes curving into laughing crescents as she tossed him a clean handkerchief. She had grown familiar with him by now and often teased and joked with him.
He An leafed through an old copy of the Great Liang Regular and Clerical Script Collection, which contained celebrated works by renowned calligraphers of the Great Liang Kingdom of the Former Dynasty. Teacher Ding Feiyong had asked Wenruo to bring him this book.
Whenever He An had felt troubled in the past, looking through these calligraphy models had gradually calmed his mind. He had copied every model in the book countless times and knew them all by heart. It was time to return it to Teacher Ding.
Dressed in white, Ding Wenruo sat quietly by the window. Serene and refined, she was like a white lotus amid the noisy crowd.
As He An approached, Ding Wenruo's gaze fell on the Great Liang Regular and Clerical Script Collection in his hands. A smile curved her lips, and she reached into her desk to take out another old book.
"What a coincidence. My father asked me to bring you this book. He said you've been studying that Great Liang Collection for several months now, so you can move on to this one!"
Speaking softly, Ding Wenruo handed over the old volume. It was a copy of the Dragon Gate Model Calligraphy.
"I was going to give it to you after class. I didn't expect... you'd come to return the book just now! What a coincidence!"
Ding Wenruo tucked a strand of hair back from her temple and watched as He An placed the Great Liang Regular and Clerical Script Collection on her desk with both hands, then accepted the Dragon Gate Model Calligraphy from her with both hands as well.
"Thank you, Wenruo! Please thank Teacher Ding for me!"
He An's voice was gentle and warm, making Ding Wenruo feel cozy in the cold of winter. Yet in that fleeting instant just now, when her fingers had brushed his fingertips, her cheeks had grown warm for no reason she could explain.
The bell for class rang just in time. Ding Wenruo nodded in a slight fluster, while He An had already turned and headed back to his seat.
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