Faced with Shen Duan and Wei Mingde's double act,
Wei Nisheng was not angered by what he heard. Instead, he smiled faintly. It was merely sparrows squabbling beneath the eaves, not worth so much as a chuckle.
He did not hurry to answer. He simply turned around at his leisure, lifted the purple clay teapot on the table, and carefully poured a cup of tea.
Holding it in both hands, he respectfully offered it to Feng Yan and said, "Teacher, your student had thought that today, the joyous occasion of my becoming your disciple,
"ought to have been peaceful and quiet. Who would have expected such clowns to take the stage and perform this nonsensical farce, disturbing your ears?"
Seeing Wei Nisheng launch the attack, Feng Yan accepted the cup, took a small sip, and set it down. He stroked his beard and smiled, speaking neither loudly nor softly, but clearly enough for everyone in the hall to hear.
"No matter. In more than forty years at court, what sort of performance haven't I seen?" As he spoke, Feng Yan looked around at his assembled disciples and raised his voice.
"Still, it is quite a coincidence. Back when Grand Secretary Shen first entered official service and was still putting in his years at the Hanlin Academy,
"he often scurried about the residences of ministers, currying favor, pouring wine, and passing cups. When it came to licking boots and stroking egos, his talents were second to none.
"At the time, I remarked that his 'spine was as supple as a spring willow, his tongue as sweet as candied fruit.' I assumed it was merely youthful temperament, something he would curb with age."
"But looking at him now, it seems..." At this point, Feng Yan raised a finger and pointed across the