"Let water not be too clear, nor men too discerning."
Feng Yan looked at Wei Nisheng, his words seeming at once experience, a lesson learned, and a kind of profound understanding.
"If you insist on absolute purity, no one will remain by your side.
If you scrutinize everything to the utmost, no one under you will be fit to serve."
"Who in this world doesn't seek gain and avoid harm?
I'm old, over seventy. How many years do I have left?
They're young. They still have decades ahead of them.
They want to gain a foothold at court, climb higher, and bring glory to their ancestors. That's only human."
"If I blamed them for that, I would be narrow-minded."
Wei Nisheng fell silent.
Feng Yan lifted his teacup and took another sip.
"But not blaming them doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."
He said it very softly, so softly it was almost a sigh.
Hearing that sigh, Wei Nisheng suddenly felt that Feng Yan truly had grown old.
It wasn't in his hair or his wrinkles, but in the weariness that seeped from his very bones.
"Teacher..."
"Enough." Feng Yan waved a hand, cutting him off.
"I'm not telling you all this so you'll grieve for an old man like me.
After more than forty years at court, what storms haven't I weathered?
A few people leaving is nothing."
Feng Yan set down his teacup and fixed Wei Nisheng with a burning gaze.
"I'm telling you this because there's something I want you to understand."
"Please tell me, Teacher."
"You must pass."
Feng Yan rose and walked over to Wei Nisheng.
He reached out and patted his shoulder.
"Why did those disciples of mine leave?
Because they couldn't see any hope.
They think I'm old and will soon die.
Once I'm