White Horse

Namkha could no longer hold back. He simply wanted to challenge the argument and said, "I disagree. All horses have a color. If all colored horses aren't horses, then there are no horses in the world at all? Isn't that absurd?"

"I didn't say having a color makes something not a horse. A horse alone is a form without regard to color. Do you agree?"

"I agree!"

"A white horse combines two things: form and color. Does one equal two?"

"Well..." Namkha pondered for a long while. He could not admit that one equaled two.

Though no blades flashed in this exchange, the clash of wits was fierce. In just a few brief moments, three people had been defeated in succession.

Tsering, who remained, dared not speak. He had seen clearly that he was simply no match for that young Scholar Monk.

Jiumo, who had been silent all this time, made his move. "Horse is a broad category. White horses form a part of that category, so a white horse is naturally a horse."

"Horse is a broad category, and white horse is a narrow category! Horse is the whole, and white horse is a part! Do you agree?"

Hearing Qu Zan's counterattack, Jiumo knew he had underestimated his opponent.

If he agreed, he would be admitting that the broad equaled the narrow and the whole equaled a part. That was a logical error.

But if he disagreed, his own argument about categories and membership would collapse without even being attacked.

Jiumo still wanted to counter, but after thinking for a moment, he realized that his opponent was invincible on this topic.

This person seemed simple, yet concealed ravines and depths within.

"I lost!" Jiumo said frankly.

Having devoured four opponents in a row, Qu Zan turned his gaze on the last one, Tsering. The latter hurriedly nodded and said, "I agree that a white horse is not a horse."

An uproar erupted both inside and outside the debating grounds.

In less than a quarter of an hour, words had turned a white horse into something that was not a horse.

Doje scratched his head and said, "So a white horse isn't a horse after all?" Confusion filled his eyes. He still could not understand it. He felt that Gyatso had said something wrong, but could not say where the error lay.

Gonbo said in alarm, "We mustn't listen to Gyatso speak anymore. This fellow could talk the dead into being alive and the living into being dead."

Up on the platform, the Sutra Academy Abbot said with deep feeling, "The World-Honored One transmitted all his teachings from mind to mind. He established no written texts during his lifetime; his disciples compiled them after his passing into nirvana. Judging by today's events, becoming mired in words means falling into rigidity and going astray into madness!

"This Scholar Monk, Gyatso, deserves first place!"

The steward watching nearby nodded in agreement. "Becoming mired in words means rigidity. Your words are profound, Abbot!"

The School Monitor said, "Gyatso deserves first place!"

With the announcement from the platform, the entire square all but exploded.

Everyone looked at Qu Zan in astonishment.

Boom!

This fellow had faced five opponents alone and firmly overwhelmed them all.

Moreover, this victory had not come through some clever shortcut, but through sheer overwhelming ability.

And a white horse was not a horse.

That conclusion sounded far too fantastical.

Huo De Lama's face bloomed like a flower with his smile.

"Gyatso? He studied under me for a few days," Huo De Lama said. "I was the one who taught him the Sutra of the Excellent Lion's Roar..."

"What? How did I teach him? Why, word by word and sentence by sentence, of course."

The Scripture Masters around him rolled their eyes at him, their meaning perfectly clear: Who asked you...?

Namkha came forward and said, "Junior Brother Gyatso, a well-deserved honor, truly well deserved!" He looked even more excited than Qu Zan himself.

"Junior Brother, I originally thought this would be unfair to you!" Namkha said sheepishly. "Now I see that I underestimated you."

Qu Zan bowed and said, "Senior Brother, you are a true gentleman!"

The Debates continued afterward, but no one could recreate the impact of Qu Zan's Debate.

Even the martial men who could not recognize a single written character knew that Gyatso ranked first in Debate at the Sutra Academy!

By evening, everyone's results were out.

The School Monitor drew up the rankings for this Courtyard Competition Dharma Assembly.

"Gyatso, Jiumo, Gadeng, Dunzhu... Namkha, the ten of you, follow me to pay your respects to the Abbot!" the School Monitor called out.

The School Monitor led the way, and the others entered one after another.

The side hall was dimly lit. The fragrance of burning butter and the scent of incense hung thick in the air, so thick it was somewhat stupefying.

The Abbot sat cross-legged behind a curtain, his appearance hidden from view, but a cold, terrifying presence pervaded the air.

It was as though they were meeting not a mortal, but some indescribable god or buddha.

The Scholar Monks bowed toward the Abbot, pressing their palms together and bending slightly at the waist.

When Qu Zan pressed his palms together, he revealed the saddle-shaped ring on his finger.

"Gyatso, I remember you. You contributed when I subdued Ghost-Fallen Guanyin that day, and I specially bestowed that ring upon you!"

A faint voice drifted through the side hall.

The steward, the School Monitor, and the others were all slightly taken aback. None of them had heard of this connection. They all cast unobtrusive glances at Qu Zan.

Looking overcome with indescribable feeling, Qu Zan said, "Ever since receiving your gracious gift that day, Lama, this disciple has been filled with emotion. My advancement to Scholar Monk and my winning first place have all been thanks to your patronage!"

"You must apply yourself!" the Sutra Academy Abbot said.

"Take him away and select a good teaching to transmit to him!" the Sutra Academy Abbot said mildly. These words were naturally addressed to those in charge at the Sutra Academy.

Jiumo, Gadeng, and the others were all quite excited to hear his instruction. Being granted an audience with someone as important as the Abbot was exceedingly rare.

Yet, to their surprise, he had only spoken to Qu Zan before having everyone else leave.

The steward led them into a room.

The room was piled with rewards of every kind. These were the rewards for the top ten!

There was everything from warm clothing, hats, and cushions to butter, highland barley, and brick tea. There were also bamboo pens, paper, ink, and other items...

The rewards were divided into three tiers.

The top three received one tier, fourth through seventh another, and eighth place another.

Qu Zan looked at the rewards prepared for him.

A brand-new set of superior, thick woolen monastic robes, including an inner monk's shirt, a monastic skirt, and a thick shawl;

An expertly crafted, extra-thick, tall yellow monk's hat, to keep out the wind and cold in autumn and winter.

A thick cushion made entirely of pure wool, with a layer of wool felt underneath. It could serve as a meditation cushion or be spread beneath him when he slept at night, and was extremely warm.

There was also a small bolt of uncolored brocade silk and two large rolls of plain woolen cloth.

"For mending old clothes. I could also make new clothes for Meiduo and the others..."

There were also twelve jin of butter, a whole bag of air-dried milk curds, a large bag of dried silverweed roots, half a sack of highland barley, and three compressed tea bricks for making daily butter tea...

Besides food, there were writing supplies as well.

A whole high-quality inkstick, ten new sheets of stellera sutra paper, three fine bamboo pens... a small copper pure-water treasure vase, a pair of miniature copper butter lamps, and a small printed Tenfold Powerful One Thangka...

"Food, clothing, and daily necessities-everything's here!" Qu Zan discovered with delighted surprise.

Most importantly, on a tray covered in red cloth lay a full hundred taels of Secret Silver!

The abacus in Qu Zan's mind kept clicking away. He could now be said to have a substantial nest egg.

From now on, I can eat tsampa whenever I want and drink butter tea whenever I want! Qu Zan thought with satisfaction.