Nightwatcher-Chapter 436: Literary Gathering

# 436. Literary Gathering

The literary gathering was held at Reed Lake in the Imperial City. A large canopy had been set up by the lakeside, creating a space big enough to accommodate several hundred attendees.

Though it was late summer and the sun remained scorching, the breeze by the lake was pleasantly cool.

Originally, the gathering had been organised by the Imperial College, and most of the attendees were its students.

But thanks to Peiman Xilou stirring up such a commotion, the calibre of those attending changed dramatically. The students of the Imperial College were still allowed to attend, but they were only permitted in the outer edges of the gathering, and not to enter the canopy.

The gathering was scheduled for noon, so that court officials could use their two hour midday break to attend openly and legitimately.

As noon approached, the students of the Imperial College, dressed in scholar’s robes and caps, were blocked by armed Imperial Guards.

“This gathering is hosted by our Imperial College! Why aren't we allowed in?”

“How can host and guest be reversed like this?”

“Not only are the guards controlling access, even arcanists from the Sitianjian have come. To guard against those who might cause trouble? Wait, could it be… could His Majesty be attending the gathering?”

As they spoke, carriages arrived one after another, parking in the square outside Reed Lake. From them descended titled nobles and military generals.

They had nothing to do with a literary gathering, everyone knew they had come for the challenge on military strategy.

Not only did they come, but they brought their wives and children too.

“Look! The high officials have arrived! Ministers and deputy ministers from the Six Ministries, grand academians…”

“I knew important people would come, but this many? It’s just a literary gathering—why such a turnout?”

“You don’t understand. A regular literary gathering wouldn’t draw this crowd. But behind this one lies the matter of negotiations between two nations. In diplomacy, nothing is small. These officials are here to create pressure.”

“A mere barbarian dares to come to the capital to debate? Doesn’t know his place. Let’s see how Great Scholar Zhang Shen teaches him a lesson.”

After the military men came civil officials of Rank Three and above, like the Ministers of Law and War, as well as the grand scholars of the palace.

Some of these high-ranking officials brought their female relatives, like the well cultured Wang Simu, who wore a pale pink noblewoman’s robe, her makeup refined and her bearing graceful.

“The refined elites of the Hanlin Academy are here too—how interesting. That lot of scholars believe themselves unmatched in learning. They’ll surely gang up on Peiman Xilou…”

The students of the Imperial College lit up as a group of young officials in azure robes strode in proudly.

The Hanlin Academy gathered the best of the best. Though these men were young and held little power, they were undoubtedly among the most learned in the entire realm.

They were in the prime of their lives, at their peak for memory, perception, and reasoning.

Their arrival boosted the confidence of the Imperial College students.

Once seated, the Hanlin elites exchanged quiet remarks:

“I’ve read the _Beizhai Compendium_. The quality is there, but it’s broad rather than deep.”

“For us, yes. But for students across the land, it’s quite profound.”

“The man is certainly talented. In any one field, we can best him. But in the breadth of knowledge he commands, we fall short.”

“Speaking of military strategy, among us at the Hanlin Academy, no one surpasses Cijiu, right?”

At once, gazes turned toward a strikingly handsome young man.

Xu Xinnian sat at his desk, keenly aware that not only his Hanlin colleagues but also the nobles and officials nearby were looking in his direction.

*Only natural, after all my specialty is military strategy…* Just as he was about to nod in acknowledgment, someone among the nobles sneered, “Peiman Xilou is challenging the great Great Scholar Zhang Shen. Surely the teacher isn't lesser than the student?”

Xu Xinnian was somewhat vexed and said in a loud voice, “As the sages say, there is no age in learning. Only merit matters. Who says a student cannot surpass their teacher?”

The nobles and generals burst into laughter. Knowing he was Xu Qi’an’s cousin, a few laughed even more brazenly, their derision clear.

Xu Xinnian was indeed a learned man, but aside from his sharp tongue that could scold someone to dust, he wasn’t especially outstanding among the Hanlin scholars.

For him to suggest that a student could outshine the teacher, it was laughable.

*Hmm? Scolding?*

The nobles and generals suddenly came to their senses, and their laughter faltered.

Xu Xinnian took a sip of tea and stood up, ever so composed.

…

Xu Qi’an, dressed in light armour with a regulation issue sabre at his waist, followed the carriage bearing Huaiqing and Lin’an to the venue. The luxurious carriage pulled up to the roadside, and the two princesses stepped down together, one in a refined pale court gown, the other in a fiery red dress.

They raised their hands in unison to shield themselves from the harsh sunlight.

*The princess raises a hand, shading the sun…* one of the guards thought, the phrase popping into his head. Then he saw a eunuch step forward, raising a canopy to shield the two princesses.

Biaobiao turned and scanned the crowd, her dewy peach-blossom eyes full of confusion. She couldn’t figure out who the running dog had disguised himself as.

*He hid himself pretty well…* She felt a little disappointed. In storybooks, people who liked each other were always said to be linked by fate, hearts resonating as one.

As the two princesses entered the venue, they saw Xu Xinnian standing at the front, passionately declaiming, eloquently berating the gathered nobles.

The nobles and generals were incensed, firing back at him one after another. Yet Xu Xinnian stood tall and unafraid, quoting the classics and delivering sharp retorts.

Some of the generals had already started rolling up their sleeves.

The high officials sipped their tea and watched the drama unfold with amusement.

Huaiqing frowned and sharply rebuked, “Enough!”

When she was angry, her presence was formidable. Her voice carried such authority that it cowed the entire crowd. Not only did Xu Xinnian fall silent, even the generals who had been shouting were subdued.

The officials and nobles all rose and bowed: “Greetings, Your Highnesses.”

Huaiqing gave a cold humph and led Biaobiao and two guards to their seats.

Xu Xinnian took another sip of tea to moisten his throat, then looked up toward the upper-left seating, where he met the gaze of Wang Simu.

She had sought him out the day before, hoping he would show off his learning at the gathering to earn a good reputation and raise his prestige.

Lady Wang hadn’t expected Xu Erlang to astonish the audience or dominate the gathering. After all, Zhang Shen would be present. As his student, Xu Erlang merely needed to make a decent showing.

Xu Erlang smiled at her, just as he had the day before, calm and unbothered.

At that moment, respectful voices were heard from the outer perimeter: “Greetings to His Highness the Crown Prince, and to the Third and Fourth Princes…”

Everyone inside the canopy turned their heads. They saw the Crown Prince helping an old man with white hair and a cane, making their way along the path cleared by the Imperial Guards, approaching the pavilion.

“Grand Tutor?”

Huaiqing exclaimed in surprise.

Biaobiao instinctively shrank her head. She’d been getting her palms smacked by this cranky old man since she was little, and it had gone on for years.

The Grand Tutor hadn’t targeted Lin’an personally; he simply had no patience for dunces.

The Crown Prince supported the Grand Tutor as they entered the pavilion.

All the officials rose to their feet and bowed respectfully.

In terms of seniority, everyone present was a junior to the Grand Tutor.

Xu Xinnian, along with his colleagues, bowed in unison. He scrutinised the elderly man supported by the Crown Prince. Though his hair was completely white, it remained thick and full, extremely enviable.

His face was full of deep lines, his skin quite loose, and his eyes slightly clouded, yet there was something unique about his presence.

He recalled that Dean Zhao Shou had once said the Grand Tutor was the only scholar of this generation who had cultivated Righteous Qi.

The three high servants of this dynasty were all first rank officials, but held no real power. The Grand Tutor had once been expected to be given charge of the cabinet, but back then the emperor was absorbed in Daoist cultivation and neglecting governance. The Grand Tutor had wanted to beat the emperor with a bamboo cane, but was stopped. From then on, he had no further place in the court, devoting himself instead to scholarship in the palace.

*Who would have thought even the Grand Tutor would come…* Xu Xinnian mused.

The Grand Tutor gave a cold snort, looked at the Imperial Academy's Chancellor, and said mildly, “This old man has been in seclusion for many years, and now I find that the Imperial Academy grows worse with every generation.”

The Chancellor flushed crimson.

Those officials who had also graduated from the Imperial Academy felt rather awkward.

The dignity of the court was, after all, their own dignity.

A young barbarian had made a stunning entrance in the capital. If it were in martial arts, that might be acceptable—barbarians were known for brute strength. But to gain fame through scholarship?

It must be known, the human race’s greatest pride lay in its culture. All else ranked beneath it; only scholarship stood high.

Confucianism was a system unique to the Central Plains, a cultural treasure, a source of pride for countless people.

Sensing the tense atmosphere, Huaiqing rose, pushed the Crown Prince aside, and supported the Grand Tutor to a seat. Her voice was cool:

“Grand Tutor, Peiman Xilou is astonishingly talented, but speaking strictly of the Four Books and Five Classics, the Chancellor is no weaker than him. As for someone who possesses both broad learning and depth of mastery, such people are indeed rare. Still, you may rest assured, with Zhang Shen present, everything will proceed smoothly.”

The Grand Tutor patted her hand, his expression easing into a faint smile.

“If Your Highness had been born male, would a mere barbarian dare strut around our capital? I’ve come to join the fun today because I don’t believe it. The court of Great Feng has no shortage of talented scholars, can it really be that none can suppress a barbarian who’s learned only the superficialities of the sages?”

Just then, a light laugh came from outside the pavilion, carrying a hint of leisure, as it countered:

“The Sage said, teaching knows no background. The Grand Tutor speaks of barbarian this and barbarian that, has he taken the Sage’s teachings to heart?”

From beyond the pavilion, a silver-haired Peiman Xilou entered calmly, accompanied by the alluring Huang Xian’er and a coldly elegant youth with vertical pupils.

Though they were foreigners, guests, they walked with utter ease, as if they were the true hosts of this literary gathering.

They showed no fear, no deference, as though unbothered by the presence of all these officials and nobles.

The Imperial Academy scholars, the elites of the Hanlin Academy, the court officials, the noble warriors... all stared in silence at Peiman Xilou, this astonishingly gifted and deeply learned barbarian.

No one responded, but all quietly straightened their backs and steadied their moods, as if facing a great enemy.

“I am called Peiman Xilou, eldest son of the Peiman clan of the White Head Tribe. My most sincere greetings to everyone.”

With his scholarship, Peiman Xilou had crafted the image of a dazzling prodigy. His goal was already achieved.

At this literary gathering, he intended to push his fame even further, laying groundwork for the negotiations to come.

…

Xu Manor.

Chu Yuanzhen sat in the courtyard, beside a stone table, holding a wine cup. By his side sat Lina, Li Miaozhen, and Xu Lingyin.

“How did he get into the Imperial City? What’s he doing there? Not afraid Emperor Yuanjing will chop his head off?” Chu Yuanzhen said sourly.

He was truly envious of the literary gathering. As a swordsman with a scholarly background, and once the top scholar of his year, such a peak-level literary contest was fatally tempting to him.

But he could no longer enter the Imperial City, especially not attend a literary gathering in full view. All thanks to Xu Qi’an. If he hadn’t helped him back then, how would things have ended up so miserable?

So he’d come to find him to drink together and complain.

Who would’ve thought, the instigator himself had managed to get in.

Chu Yuanzhen’s heart turned as sour as if he’d bitten a lemon.

“I want to go too.”

Xu Lingyin chirped.

“A literary gathering is just a bunch of scholars discussing boring stuff, you wouldn’t enjoy it. That sort of thing’s got nothing to do with us. Better to stay home, eat pastries, and drink sweet _jiuniang_.”

Lina took the chance to educate her disciple. She had some sense of boundaries and hoped her disciple would slowly develop the same.

“But Master, there’s loads of tasty food at the gathering. Last time, when big bwother fought the monk, I followed an uncle and ate so many delicious things.”

Xu Lingyin delivered the fatal blow.

“Oh right! How did I forget, there’ll be fine food and drink!” Lina’s eyes sparkled.

*Quite the crafty angle…* Chu Yuanzhen patted Xu Lingyin’s head, finding the silly girl rather cute, until he remembered the nightmare class at Cloud Deer Academy that day.

He silently withdrew his hand.

Li Miaozhen said, “That barbarian’s been awfully arrogant lately. I can’t stand it — makes me want to stab him right there and then.”

*Going around stabbing people you dislike, are you really the Holy Maiden of the Heaven Sect…* Chu Yuanzhen thought she was the biggest oddity in the Heaven and Earth Society.

Number One’s identity was unknown. Number Three, Xu Cijiu, was a gentleman. Number Six, Hengyuan, was compassionate. Number Five, Lina, though not very bright and a bit of a glutton, had no major flaws.

Numbers Seven and Eight had been “missing” for years.

Number Nine, Daoist Jinlian, was mild and respectable, a model elder who cultivated virtue and had a commendable character. No bad habits either.

Only Li Miaozhen left him speechless. As the Holy Maiden of the Heaven Sect, she should have been aloof and reserved. But after two years of roaming the world, she’d transformed into the chivalrous Lady Flying Swallow, obsessed with justice and eradicating evil.

“The Imperial Academy’s scholars are so hopeless. We’ll have to rely on the Cloud Deer Academy to deal with him,” Li Miaozhen said.

Chu Yuanzhen nodded with a smile. “Zhang Shen’s _Six Treatises on the Art of War_ is exquisite. With him stepping in, that barbarian won’t be strutting much longer. Still, anyone capable of writing the _Beizhai Compendium_ is enough to found a school and be called a great Confucian of the age.”

Li Miaozhen frowned. She heard the doubt in Chu Yuanzhen’s words. “Is this barbarian really that impressive?”

Chu Yuanzhen nodded.

“In poetry, I suppose Xu Ningyan’s still superior, right?” Li Miaozhen asked cautiously.

Chu Yuanzhen snorted.

Li Miaozhen frowned. “Not necessarily?”

Chu Yuanzhen shook his head with a wry smile. “No, Xu Ningyan’s poetic talent is unparalleled through the ages. But a literary gathering isn’t a poetry competition. Besides, he won’t be showing up.”

…

The marketplace.

Although ordinary citizens couldn't enter the imperial city, they were deeply engaged in discussing the literary gathering and were eagerly anticipating the results.

Even weary labourers, sitting at roadside stalls eating a bowl of noodles, could hear the adjacent tables constantly talking about the assembly, discussing politics with fervent eloquence.

“This reminds me of last year's buddhist contest, what a sensation that was. In the end, our Silver Gong Xu stepped forward and turned the tide,” said a hawker in a blue jacket, slurping noodles noisily.

“But this is a literary gathering, not a buddhist contest. It’s a pity Silver Gong Xu isn’t a scholar, he can’t help this time,” his companion replied regretfully.

The noodle stall owner, lifting the pot lid as he prepared noodles, chimed in angrily, “Those Imperial Academy scholars are truly useless, to lose to a barbarian, I’m ashamed on their behalf.”

Another customer couldn’t help but say, “If only Silver Gong Xu were a scholar.”

In the eyes of the people, Silver Gong Xu was an omnipotent hero, a legendary figure of the Great Feng, a truly conscientious great man.

They adored him blindly, believing he could do anything. But reason told them he wasn’t a man of letters, and naturally, his scholarship couldn’t match that barbarian’s.

So they could only sigh: if only Silver Gong Xu were a scholar.

The noodle stall owner handed a bowl to a customer and laughed, “Still, that barbarian daring to challenge a great scholar from Cloud Deer Academy, he really doesn’t know his place in life.”

The diners burst into laughter.

…

In the palace, the royal bedchambers.

Emperor Yuanjing lounged lazily on the couch, flipping through a Daoist classic, when footsteps sounded. The old eunuch returned in quick, shuffling steps and said quietly:

“News from the literary gathering, Peiman Xilou debated scripture, policy, livelihood, agriculture, history with the Hanlin scholars… and held his ground.”

“Holding his ground is already a disgrace to our Great Feng,” Emperor Yuanjing replied flatly.

Seeing the Emperor’s expression, the old eunuch knew he was displeased.

In the end, it was the monarch who lost face most when Peiman Xilou flaunted his brilliance.

“Have they debated poetry?” Emperor Yuanjing suddenly asked.

The eunuch shook his head.

“At least he knows his limits,” Emperor Yuanjing sneered, but his laughter quickly turned to a scowl and a cold snort.

After a pause, Emperor Yuanjing asked, “Zhang Shen hasn't arrived yet?”

The eunuch bowed his head, “Master Zhang has yet to arrive.”

Emperor Yuanjing slowly nodded, “No rush, the assembly has yet to reach the main topic. Though the scholars of Cloud Deer Academy are detestable, their scholarship has never disappointed.”

He appeared rather relaxed.

…

What was the main topic of the literary gathering?

War—the war occurring in the north.

Among the Imperial Academy representatives, a student rose to speak passionately:

“The barbarians have long harassed the borders, slaughtering our Great Feng’s people and causing widespread suffering. And today, crushed under the Kingdom of Jing’s iron hoof, shamelessly comes seeking our aid.

“A barbarian is a barbarian, thick-skinned and shameless.”

Imperial Academy students around the edge responded in kind, furiously cursing the barbarians as “shameless.”

Huang Xian’er listened with a soft smile, fingers playing with her side locks.

The slit-pupilled youth’s face burned with rage, barely restraining his serpent-like bloodlust. His cold vertical pupils swept the student with a chilling glare.

Peiman Xilou’s expression remained unchanged. He even smiled and said:

“The Church of the Warlock God dominates the northeast of Jiuzhou, bordering Great Feng across only three prefectures. With Great Feng’s population and military, at some cost, they can be held beyond those three prefectures.”

He paused, seeing the ministers and generals nodding in agreement, and continued:

“But if the northern territories are also seized by the Church, and Jing’s cavalry rides south, they could charge directly at the capital. Kang and Yan could strike from the east, coordinating their assault. Would the Great Feng not be in peril?

“As all know, the north is an endless steppe. If Jing claims it, they’ll be able to raise even more cavalry. Then, even with artillery and ballistae, the Great Feng won’t stop these ‘invincibles’ of the land.

“So, Great Feng’s mobilisation isn’t to help my divine race, it’s to help yourselves. Our divine race reproduces with difficulty and has a low population. Even if we sometimes harass the border, we lack the troops to push south, and pose limited threat to the Great Feng. But the Church of the Warlock God is another matter.”

No one refuted him.

The Hanlin scholars, Imperial Academy students, and even the ministers all tacitly agreed with his assessment.

The northeast controlled by the Church of the Warlock God was rich in resources, suited for both hunting and farming. And a farming civilisation breeds population.

The Church’s population lagged behind Great Feng’s only due to limited territory.

If they gained the northern lands and relocated some of their people there, in at most twenty years, their numbers would double at the very least.

Peiman Xilou said gravely, “At that time, our divine race’s golden day shall be Great Feng’s doomsday.”

Xu Xinnian silently observed.

*These fools don’t even realise they’ve let him seize the initiative. Shouldn’t they be discussing terms and leverage? Of course we’ll send troops, that’s a given… Wait, negotiating terms is for the discussion table—that’s the ministers’ job, not something to talk about now.*

The core aim of this assembly was to destroy Peiman Xilou’s image, to tear down his prestige.

But the current situation wasn’t looking good. The man was eloquent, persuasive, and held the moral high ground of “righteous necessity.”

Xu Xinnian shifted his gaze and saw many generals itching to speak, but ultimately frowning and falling silent.

*At least they had some self-awareness. These generals were crude in scolding, let alone debating. Even with their vast battlefield experience, they couldn’t out-argue Peiman Xilou, hmpf, coarse martial artists…*

“The ministers are usually so sharp-tongued in court. When the Grand Tutor used to smack my hands, he was full of witty comebacks. Why are they all silent now?” Biaobiao said anxiously.

“The Grand Tutor can’t step in. He’s a highly respected elder, and too senior. Even if he wins, it won’t be honourable. People will only say the Great Feng bullied the young. The same applies to the ministers. And if they do step up, I guarantee Peiman Xilou will challenge them to a contest of scholarship…”

Huaiqing, uncharacteristically talkative, explained to her foolish younger sister:

“Among the ministers, aside from a few Grand Academicians, the rest have long since neglected their studies.”

Biaobiao widened her eyes and murmured, “Then what do we do? This is infuriating.”

The Imperial Academy students looked grave. The Hanlin scholars were equally on edge, their expressions grim.

Prime Minister Wang sighed, “Peiman Xilou’s talent is truly astonishing.”

The young officials of the Hanlin Academy had entered with confidence, yet now sat silent and solemn, the contrast stark.

Wang Simu kept glancing at Xu Erlang, hoping he would step forward and shine.

Prime Minister Wang, noticed his daughter’s gaze and said, “Why is Erlang so quiet today?”

Wang Simu frowned.

Just as everyone was at a loss, struggling for a response, a flash of clear light burst above Reed Lake. Zhang Shen, robed and crowned like a Confucian scholar, appeared out of thin air.

Then, he plummeted toward the lake.

Another flash, and he was standing in the pavilion, with a trace of lingering fear on his face.

*Clearly you’ve just boasted “Where I am is not Cloud Deer Academy, but Reed Lake”, and nearly fell in…* Xu Qi’an grumbled in his heart.

“Great Scholar Zhang is here.”

“Master Zhang has finally arrived. I knew he wouldn't miss this.”

The students on the fringes cheered in relief.

The officials began to smile. Those familiar with Zhang Shen greeted him one after another. “Brother Jinyan, you're finally here.”

Zhang Shen nodded coolly. Then, spotting the Grand Tutor, he quickly bowed. “Student Zhang Shen greets the Grand Tutor.”

The Grand Tutor gave a soft grunt, but his long-stern face finally showed a smile. “Zhang Jinyan, this young man of the White Head Tribe wishes to consult you on the art of war. Give him some guidance.”

The atmosphere in the pavilion surged with excitement.

Zhang Shen swept his gaze across the crowd and looked at the snow-haired Peiman Xilou. “You’re the one who compiled the _Beizhai Compendium_?”

Peiman Xilou stood for the first time and bowed. “Student greets Master Zhang.”

Zhang Shen waved a hand. “No need for formality. You want to spar with me in the art of war?”

The pavilion fell quiet. All eyes turned towards them.

Huang Xian’er sat up straighter, eyes narrowed, staring at the scholar from Cloud Deer Academy.

The slit-pupilled youth restrained his usual arrogance. This fourth-rank master of the Confucian path was Peiman’s designated opponent for this event. Though he looked down on scholars, he did not include Cloud Deer Academy’s in that scorn.

Even after years of decline, the Confucian system still carried weight.

“This student is lacking in learning and wishes to consult teacher,” Peiman Xilou replied gently, with confidence brimming behind his calm.

Zhang Shen rolled his eyes:

“Aren’t you being cheeky? This old man hasn’t commanded troops in over twenty years. I’ve nearly forgotten what it’s like to sleep with sword in hand. Everything I know is from decades ago. What kind of art of war do you expect to discuss with me?

“Why don’t you go debate strategy with Wei Yuan? That old fellow sits at court, with agents spread across the land. He’s spent twenty years plotting without rest, waiting to unleash it all one day.”

Peiman Xilou smiled. “Wouldn’t that be unfair as well, sir?”

The slit-pupilled youth couldn’t help but sneer. “Why not have Brother Peiman duel the Jianzheng in magic then?”

This time, Peiman Xilou didn’t scold him. He smiled and said,

“Then let’s not debate strategy. In truth, I have long admired teacher’s military texts. I’ve heard your _Six Treatises on the Art of War_ is widely circulated and praised by all.

“This humble student has also written a military treatise. It took years to complete, combining Central Plains strategy with the art of barbarian cavalry. I would be honoured if the teacher would give it a look.”

With that, he turned to the slit-pupilled youth beside him.

Xuanyin opened a small wooden box at his feet and presented a thick book: _The Beizhai Strategems_.

On the Great Feng side, many exchanged looks. They had not expected this man not only to be versed in military affairs but to have written a book on it?

Scholars place great importance on publishing works. Even the most learned take great care, revising over many years before releasing a book to the world.

Jottings and notes didn’t count.

For instance, that _Collected Records of the Great Zhou_ Xu Qi’an had read at the academy — that was merely notes, not a proper book.

So many were sceptical of Peiman Xilou’s claim.

The Grand Tutor’s face visibly darkened.

The older officials shared his grim expression. They had a bad feeling about this.

Out of respect for the written word, Zhang Shen solemnly received the book with both hands. A breeze stirred the pages, which flipped rapidly.

Zhang Shen’s expression shifted as everyone watched. At first startled, then appreciative, and finally, stirred.

Peiman Xilou asked, “What does the teacher think of the book?”

Zhang Shen did not answer at once. After a moment of reflection, he sighed. “Brilliant.”

“The book is divided into three volumes. The first on the way of War, discusses what warfare is and what military strategy means. Even those unfamiliar with war would come away with a clear outline.

“The second discusses tactics. ‘No fixed formation in war, no fixed form in water’, wonderfully put. The twelve schemes for offence are truly striking.

“The most applaudable is the third volume. It studies formations in depth, offering many setups combining cultivators and regular troops, greatly enhancing the latter’s utility.”

Peiman Xilou was indeed a prodigious scholar. When it came to the art of war, Zhang Shen had lost. Confucians value clarity of mind. He was not the type to cling to a lost cause out of pride.

Besides, it was the emperor and the court who would lose face over this. Cloud Deer Academy had long been expelled from the court. Zhang Shen had no reason to go against his conscience for the sake of those useless drunks at the Directorate.

He sighed. “My _Six Treatises on the Art of War_ cannot compare to your _Beizhai Strategems_. I concede.”

“They say the scholars of Cloud Deer Academy are noble in character. Indeed, the reputation is deserved.”

Peiman Xilou laughed heartily.

Why had he chosen Zhang Shen as a stepping stone? Three reasons: Zhang Shen was famous enough, he had been in seclusion for over twenty years, and he was from Cloud Deer Academy. That meant he would speak his mind and act with honour. As long as the book was convincing, Zhang Shen would not slander him out of bias.

A gentleman can be misled by righteousness. That was the logic.

The pavilion fell silent. No one had any expression left.

The young man with vertical pupils, Xuanyin, laughed hoarsely. “They say Great Feng’s literary path flourishes, full of scholarly seeds. But none can compare to my Brother Pei. Brother, when you return north, you’ll be our people’s own Silver Gong Xu.”

He meant someone as beloved as Xu Qi’an.

The students outside the pavilion burned with shame and fury. They wanted to shout back, to curse, but felt too ashamed to speak. Any insult would only make things worse. They ground their teeth in silence.

The academic stars of the Hanlin Academy looked awkward.

In other scholarly fields, they could argue and debate. But when it came to war, they had never even seen a battlefield. They had no right to speak. Empty theory would only invite ridicule.

Huang Xian’er giggled. Whether with joy or scorn, no one could tell.

“This is so dull. I shouldn’t have come,” one noblewoman muttered.

They had come full of hope and excitement, eager to see the barbarian humiliated. Instead, they had watched him dazzle and crush the scholars of Great Feng.

Huaiqing let out a breath. As a woman, this wasn’t a place she could step in. If she did, it would just embarrass the scholars. And in any case, she had only read a few military texts.

That Peiman Xilou was a young master of the White-Hair Division, seasoned in war and rich in experience. His skill was surely far beyond her own.

“Help me back!”

The Grand Tutor struck his cane three times and growled.

The old man’s face was full of disappointment.

…

In the royal bedchambers.

The old eunuch rushed in at a quick pace, his face uneasy.

The curtains hung low. On the bed, Emperor Yuanjing glanced at him but said nothing.

The old eunuch whispered, “Zhang Shen… has conceded…”

_Smack!_

Emperor Yuanjing flung the book squarely at the eunuch’s face.

…

By the shores of Reed Lake, in the pavilion.

Peiman Xilou cupped his hands in all directions, his smile calm and composed. Whether in victory or defeat, his manner was unshaken. “Many thanks for your guidance. No wonder Great Feng is known for the flourishing of its scholarly way. It is a land that inspires longing.”

In everyone’s ears, these words sounded like mockery. No, they were mockery.

The Grand Tutor’s face turned stormy and he quickened his pace.

The other officials all rose from their seats in silence, ready to leave.

_Thud!_

The wine cup landed heavily on the table, drawing glances from those nearby.

Xu Erlang rose with elegant poise and said in a clear voice, “My elder brother once wrote a line of verse: _To watch mere youths become new elites; I step into the ring, ready to strike._.”

The words echoed out.

The Grand Tutor stopped and looked back.

The ministers and noble generals turned to look.

The students of the Imperial Academy turned to look.

Peiman Xilou stared at this young official from the Hanlin Academy, surprised by the sudden challenge.

Xu Xinnian looked at the white-haired barbarian and said calmly, “This official shall debate the art of war with you.”

The pavilion erupted in astonished murmurs.

“Cijiu!”

His colleagues from the Hanlin Academy glanced at him in alarm, signalling with their eyes for him not to be rash.

Xu Cijiu had earned a strong reputation in court, mostly from that day at the Meridian Gate when he denounced King Huai after the Chuzhou Massacre.

That reputation had been hard-won. If it were ruined now in a moment of recklessness, it would be a crying shame.

“Zhang Shen is his teacher. Even his teacher lost. What makes Xu Cijiu think he can win?”

“What’s the point of another embarrassment? Even Zhang the Great Scholar praised Peiman Xilou’s military treatise.”

“We are outraged too, but Xu Cijiu is being too impulsive.”

The students of the Imperial Academy murmured among themselves.

Peiman Xilou suspected he had misheard. He stared at Xu Xinnian for a moment, then suddenly recalled that this was Zhang Shen’s disciple.

But… his teacher had already lost. What did the student hope to turn around?

The slit-pupilled youth, Xuanyin, wore a cold sneer. Huang Xian’er idly played with her wine cup and said blandly, “How dull.”

Wang Simu stared wide-eyed in shock. She hadn’t expected that Xu Xinnian had been holding back for this moment.

*Impulsive!* Wang Shoufu was furious.

“Sir Xu, have you ever commanded troops?” Peiman Xilou asked with a smile.

Xu Xinnian shook his head.

“Have you ever been to war?”

Another shake of the head.

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The barbarian-born scholar shook his head lightly. “Though you specialise in military theory, it’s all talk on paper. How will you discuss the art of war with me?”

Xuanyin jeered, “Don’t tell me you’ve also written a book and want to compare it with brother Peiman’s?”

Seeing Xu Xinnian mocked by the barbarians, many in the audience felt ashamed.

Zhang Shen stared at his prized pupil in disbelief. _Has the lad gone daft? Even I conceded defeat. What’s he trying to do? Avenge me?_

Still, perhaps it was good for him to suffer a setback. Xu Cijiu’s path had been too smooth. Whether it was his family, his studies, or his official career, he had never met real failure.

Xu Xinnian lifted his chin slightly and said proudly, “That’s right. I do have a book on military theory. I ask Brother Peiman to offer his guidance.”

“!!!”

Everyone, including Zhang Shen, stared blankly at Xu Xinnian. Their eyes were full of confusion. Like Peiman Xilou, they wondered if they’d heard wrong.

Without minding them, Xu Xinnian took out a thread-bound book with a light brown cover.

Peiman Xilou looked at the title: _The Art of War, Sun Tzu_.

Well-read as he was, the name meant nothing to him. It wasn’t among the military texts commonly passed around today, nor one of those the court had recently compiled and gifted to him — full of stale and repetitive ideas.

But he was a lover of books. He wouldn’t belittle any text based on its title. He raised a hand to draw it over and began to read with a smile.

*The art of war is of vital importance to the State. It is a matter of life and death, a road either to safety or to ruin. Hence it is a subject of inquiry which can on no account be neglected.*[^1]

A strong opening. A simple yet incisive statement on the importance of war.

He continued:

*The art of war, then, is governed by five constant factors, to be taken into account in one's deliberations, when seeking to determine the conditions obtaining in the field. These are: (1) The Moral Law; (2) Heaven; (3) Earth; (4) The Commander; (5) Method and discipline.*

Peiman Xilou nodded slightly, putting aside his earlier disdain. Whoever wrote this had some real substance.

When he reached the line “all warfare is based on deception”, his pupils contracted slightly. “Brilliant. Brilliant indeed. This is most excellent.”

He read on hungrily, quickly losing himself in the ocean of knowledge, absorbed and unable to tear himself away.

The book contained twelve chapters, profound in scope. It not only detailed theories and experience of war, but distilled from them underlying principles.

It had transcended mere tactics. The concepts it explored were not limited to military stratagems. It approached a higher, broader perspective.

For instance, it stated that politics was a decisive factor in the outcome of war. That single point elevated the entire treatise. Peiman Xilou felt as if a cask of enlightenment had been poured over his head.

The barbarians fought to plunder. Peiman Xilou had always thought war was just war. Of course, factors beyond the battlefield mattered, but in the end, victory came down to strength.

The book wasn’t long. Compared to his own thick volume, it seemed sparse. Yet every line gleamed like a pearl. Every sentence merited deep contemplation.

In contrast, he had painstakingly recorded each campaign, trying to analyse every detail in words, summarising formations and emphasising the role of the rank-and-file… now it all seemed laughable.

To be fair, the book wasn’t flawless. For example, it made no mention of cultivators or how to incorporate them into battle.

After a long while, Peiman Xilou finally pulled himself from the trance-like reading and sighed in heartfelt admiration, “Invaluable. Truly invaluable…”

Then he noticed all the people of Great Feng staring straight at him.

Everyone was stunned.

Just now, the range of expressions on Peiman Xilou’s face had perfectly illustrated phrases such as “overjoyed,” “left in awe,” and “eager with thirst.”

It stirred boundless curiosity, What on earth was written in that book to provoke such a response from someone so dazzlingly talented?

Peiman Xilou glanced at Xu Xinnian, then at the _Art of War_ in his hand. He hesitated, struggled inwardly, and finally let out a long sigh, then bowed deeply:

“Sir Xu, I concede.

“I ask for nothing else, only to beg your leave to copy this book. I am willing to pay my respects as a disciple and call you teacher.”

This book was, without question, vastly superior to his own _Beizhai Strategems_. To keep up appearances would be meaningless.

The vertical-pupilled youth, Xuanyin, goggled: “Big Brother, you—you…”

The seductive and elegant Huang Xian’er now had no trace of her usual languid confidence. Her beautiful face subtly changed.

An uproar broke out, the crowd boiling over.

Peiman Xilou had admitted defeat, shamed by comparison.

And to copy Xu Cijiu’s military treatise, he was even willing to humble himself as a student.

The noble officials and military commanders all stared at the book in Peiman Xilou’s hands as though it were the most enticing treasure in the world.

Prime Minister Wang looked deeply at Xu Erlang, his expression frozen in place.

Wang Simu’s heart pounded wildly as she gazed, enraptured, at Xu Erlang standing proud in the centre of it all.

The Grand Tutor took two steps forward, leaning on his cane, eyes narrowing as he looked Xu Cijiu up and down. Then he stomped his cane twice and laughed heartily, stroking his beard:

“This is the true scholar of Great Feng. A rising star indeed.”

The Third Princess and Fourth Princess looked at Xu Cijiu, their eyes glittering with admiration.

“The Xu family truly has two prodigies. Xu Qi’an already shines dazzlingly bright, and now this Xu Cijiu is no less brilliant.” Someone sighed with emotion.

Zhang Shen snatched the military text from Peiman Xilou’s hands, confused, and started reading.

His expression shifted in just the same way Peiman Xilou’s had earlier.

By the time he finished, he was stupefied.

“No, no, this military treatise, who wrote it? Cijiu, who wrote it?” Zhang Shen asked, his voice agitated.

He knew exactly what his student was capable of. Xu Cijiu might be exceptional in the study of military strategy, but he could never have authored a treatise of this calibre.

There had to be someone else behind it.

Zhang Shen was desperate to know who the true author was. Could there really be such a figure in Great Feng?

Xu Xinnian nodded slowly. “This military treatise was indeed not written by me.”

The crowd’s clamour came to an abrupt halt. Everyone looked at him blankly, then turned to glance at Zhang Shen.

They began to realise, was the author of this work that even Peiman Xilou bowed to… someone else?

“Was it Wei Yuan? Was it Wei Yuan?” Zhang Shen pressed.

All eyes turned to Xu Erlang.

*Wei Yuan…* Peiman Xilou murmured.

*Wei Yuan!* Realisation dawned on everyone.

“What’s this got to do with Lord Wei?” Xu Erlang frowned, slightly displeased. His gaze swept the crowd as he raised his voice:

“This military treatise was written by my elder brother.”

In an instant, the lakeside pavilion and the banks of Reed Lake fell utterly silent—so quiet, one could hear a pin drop.

…

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[^1]: [See source](https://ctext.org/art-of-war)