Chapter 93: Descending the Mountain (A Double-Length Chapter, an Extra for Master Zhu Yan Muyu)

When Shen Chen returned to Xianshan Academy, he could immediately sense the changes brought by his growing reputation.

His fellow disciples now looked at him differently. Around him, a dozen servants from the Deng family ascended the mountain bearing gifts. This was a yearly tradition: whenever Shen Chen returned from Huangmen Pavilion, he would bring presents for his teachers and peers. In previous years, everyone would accept them without ceremony, laughing and making jokes as they claimed their gifts. There were no poor children at Xianshan Academy; all were sons of privilege. Shen Chen gave gifts, and they returned the gesture with simple tokens—cured meats, brushes and ink, books. Having known each other for years, they were all friends, and such exchanges were free of formality.

But this year, as the Deng servants carried the gifts up, no one came forward to accept them. At the gate, Shen Chen stood awkwardly while his fellow disciples watched from afar like strangers.

"Ah Chen," Song Zhong, hearing of Shen Chen’s return, stepped out with a grim expression. "Come in."

"Master," Shen Chen bowed respectfully, instructed his servants to deliver the gifts to the rear courtyard, and followed Song Zhong inside. His close friends—Wang Can, Pan Jun, Wang Han, Zhou Sheng—were all present. Other academy teachers, including Qi Wu Kai, Pan Fan, and Zhao Kui, had also gathered.

They followed Song Zhong to the hall courtyard. It was early spring, and at the center stood a towering tree, its massive trunk gnarled, its canopy lush and umbrella-like, branches trailing gracefully.

Xianshan Academy did not have a fixed number of students. In the Han dynasty, the most formal system was the Imperial Academy, with strict schedules. Even Hongdu Gate School was less regulated. Private classes were more flexible—attendance depended on personal willingness: if you had time, you came; if not, you simply informed your teacher. Confucius taught three thousand disciples; it was impossible to lecture all daily. Students came when they could, left when they wished—much like university classes, with no strict oversight.

When Liu Biao established Xianshan Academy, the student body was small; it grew slowly, and at its peak, including teachers, numbered only a few hundred. Usually, there were between a few dozen and a hundred attending classes; today, as Shen Chen returned, there were about thirty or forty, all gathered for a group lesson in the courtyard.

Song Zhong was lecturing on "Fa Yan," a work by Yang Xiong of the Western Han. Though Yang Xiong’s reputation suffered due to his allegiance to Wang Mang, his writings and ideas were highly praised by the Han. He had many followers; Song Zhong himself was a grand scholar versed in the Five Classics, annotating various Confucian texts, and had studied Yang Xiong’s works, providing commentary for "Tai Xuan Jing" and "Fa Yan," and was a staunch admirer.

When Shen Chen entered, the students all sat quietly. Mats covered the courtyard; Song Zhong stood beneath the tree, students waiting in silence until Shen Chen arrived. A servant brought him a mat, and after he sat, Song Zhong seated himself cross-legged at the tree’s base.

"Today’s lesson is from 'Fa Yan.' Yang Xiong said, 'The Sage delights in Heaven and understands fate; delighting in Heaven brings ease, understanding fate dispels worry.' I find this reasoning sound. What do you think?"

Song Zhong looked around, inviting comment. No one spoke. After a moment’s silence, Song Zhong turned to Shen Chen. "Ah Chen, you have just returned. What are your thoughts?"

Shen Chen stood and replied, "Master, I too find it reasonable. The Sage comprehends and finds joy in the Way of Heaven, understands destiny, and knows that the workings of Heaven are natural, thus avoids anxiety and regret."

"Confucius said, 'Serve the ruler with the Way.' This shows Confucius regarded service to the ruler as following Heaven's Way. If so, why do some defy the ruler’s command and choose to oppose?"

Song Zhong asked.

Shen Chen frowned, understanding that today’s situation was not entirely due to his rising fame.

After all, he was a student of Xianshan Academy; having an outstanding disciple brought honor to his teachers, so his growing reputation would not provoke hostility.

But his actions contradicted certain beliefs—the doctrine of loyalty to the ruler.

Presently, all of Jingzhou was swept by two currents of thought: first, Liu Biao’s stance of seeking independence in Jingzhou; second, reverence for the imperial court, even full allegiance, carrying out imperial commands to conquer the land.

The second was the mainstream, which explained why, after Liu Biao’s death, most scholars in Jingzhou surrendered directly to Cao Cao, handing over Jingzhou.

In their eyes, Cao Cao acted on the Emperor’s behalf, punishing insubordinate vassals; the Emperor was supreme, so surrendering to Cao Cao was not disgraceful but rather a return to righteous authority.

This thinking pervaded Xianshan Academy and Liu Biao’s officials. For example, last year, when Cao Cao welcomed the Emperor, Liu Biao sent tribute but also sought alliance with Yuan Shao.

Liu Biao’s administrative officer Deng Yi urged him to fully embrace the court, not ally with Yuan Shao. Liu Biao rebuked him, so Deng Yi resigned and went east. Later, Han Song, another official, advised Liu Biao to submit to the court, not oppose Cao Cao, which aroused Liu Biao’s suspicion. Han Song was sent to Xu Chang to observe Cao Cao, and upon returning, again urged allegiance, nearly costing him his life.

Song Zhong himself was in the pro-surrender camp; after Liu Biao died, his successor Liu Cong submitted to Cao Cao, and Song Zhong drafted the petition of surrender. Passing through Xin Ye, he was fiercely rebuked by Liu Bei.

Such examples were numerous throughout Jingzhou; those urging Liu Biao to yield to Cao Cao were countless. They did not see it as betrayal but as upholding righteousness, serving the Han Emperor.

But did they not realize that Cao Cao, wielding power, invoked “serving the Emperor to punish the unfaithful”—while in truth, he wielded the Emperor as a pawn to command the nobles?

Perhaps some sensed it. Yet, as with Wang Mang before he usurped, no one believed it until it happened.

They all thought Cao Cao was a loyal minister, fighting for the Emperor.

Years later, when Cao Cao accepted the Nine Bestowments, donned the imperial crown, wore the sword and slippers in the palace, ascended the hall without haste, received homage without being named, and was titled Duke then King of Wei, all those loyal to the Han Emperor had long since been purged by Cao Cao.

Later generations forgot loyalty to Han; then, with favorable circumstances, Cao Pi peacefully persuaded Emperor Liu Xie to abdicate, founding the Wei Empire.

So, in retrospect, knowing Cao Cao’s intentions, he was a top-tier Wang Mang—using Liu Xie’s name to conquer while secretly preparing for usurpation.

But contemporaries did not see this.

Thus, most scholars in Jingzhou never saw submission to Cao Cao as wrong; on the contrary, opposing Cao Cao meant opposing the imperial court.

This was also why Liu Biao would not commit fully to a life-and-death struggle against Cao Cao.

Now Song Zhong, invoking Yang Xiong and Confucius, was essentially asking Shen Chen: why oppose Cao Cao, why oppose the court?

Why did you destroy so many of Cao Cao’s troops, kill his brother and general, and incur his wrath?

Could you not accept fate, submit obediently to the court’s campaign?

Though harsh, it was true.

Shen Chen could hear the meaning behind his words, but to bluntly retort that Cao Cao was no loyal minister, that he manipulated the Emperor? Of the thirty or forty present, nearly all would think him mad, dismissing his argument.

So he needed reason and evidence to counter.

What evidence? First, he must affirm the legitimacy of the court, acknowledge Liu Xie as the rightful Emperor. Second, he must refute Cao Cao’s actions as imperial commands. He must separate the Emperor and Cao Cao, not let others think the two are one—that Cao Cao’s orders equal the Emperor’s.

After pondering, Shen Chen spoke softly, "Sir, you are asking why we oppose Cao Cao, are you not?"

Song Zhong said, "Cao Cao acts in the Emperor’s name to campaign against Nanyang and Xiliang. This is righteous."

Shen Chen considered and shook his head. "I do not agree."

"Why?"

Song Zhong asked.

Shen Chen replied, "People believe Cao Cao campaigns for the Emperor against rebels, but Confucius said: 'When governing, why use killing?' Cao Cao is cruel and unforgiving, slaughtered tens of thousands in Xuzhou—how can he be a good minister? He misleads the Emperor, and the people must rise against him."

Song Zhong said, "I know you are from Xuzhou and bear a grudge against Cao Cao. But family hatred cannot outweigh national righteousness. Cao Cao serves the Emperor; this is Heaven’s Way. A gentleman follows the right path, not the crooked—should you let emotion sway you?"

He meant that in times of unrest, personal hatred should not take precedence; a gentleman should follow the right, not deviate because of hardship.

But Shen Chen replied, "Confucius said: 'If the ruler desires good, the people will be good.' The Emperor is misled by treacherous ministers; Cao Cao is not good. Even if he acts in the Emperor’s name, his excessive slaughter cannot win the people's allegiance. This is not the Way of Kings but the aberrant tyranny of a despot."

Song Zhong frowned. "In troubled times, harsh measures are needed. Qin conquered the world with tyranny; the Han order now declines, the royal authority falters. Cao Cao assists the Emperor with tyranny to subdue rebels; when the world is pacified, the Emperor will be benevolent. What is wrong with this?"

"Confucius said, 'Do not take shortcuts.' Tyranny may be effective, but the people of Xuzhou never rebelled; even Tao Qian defended the east without defying authority. Why punish the innocent?"

Shen Chen replied swiftly, "If Cao Cao slaughtered Xuzhou in the Emperor’s name, I could accept it. But his reason was vengeance for his father; the Emperor was still in Chang’an. How could he act in the Emperor’s name? It was purely personal vendetta. Should we believe that a lord, ruling a region, can massacre at will, and upon serving the Emperor, can shed his cruelty?"

"This..."

Song Zhong was momentarily speechless.

He had thought Cao Cao’s harsh measures were normal; Qin had done the same. But Shen Chen’s rebuttal was logical—Cao Cao did not slaughter Xuzhou for the Emperor, but for personal revenge. How could such a cruel man be a loyal minister?

Even Confucius held that ministers should govern with benevolence; Cao Cao was not even acting for the ruler, but for himself.

Shen Chen’s argument was that Cao Cao was cruel, the Emperor duped by him, and thus they should purge the court and resist Cao Cao.

But even this failed to persuade everyone. Another teacher, Qi Wu Kai, stepped forward. "No one is perfect; to err and correct is the greatest good. Though Cao Cao once slaughtered Xuzhou, now he serves the Emperor, a great virtue."

Shen Chen nodded. "Sir, you are right—if there is fault, correct it; if not, strive harder. Amending past errors is admirable. But has Cao Cao changed? I see no evidence. It is like a shepherd appointed to oversee the provinces; if he has no flock, can he claim to patrol on Heaven’s behalf? Duke Jing acted unrighteously, besieged Lu, slaughtered cities, and left Qi weakened. To serve the Emperor, one must be benevolent. If Cao Cao treated Xuzhou kindly, welcomed the Emperor and campaigned against Tao Qian, would the people not greet the royal army with food and drink? Confucius said: 'If good people govern a state for a hundred years, they can eradicate cruelty and killing.' Truly, the words are wise. If cruel men wield power, it is a disaster. If Cao Cao has changed, why attack my Huangmen Pavilion? Should I bare my neck for slaughter simply because he serves the Emperor?"

"Uh..."

Qi Wu Kai had no answer. One should not prevent someone from resisting in the face of death.

Song Zhong continued, "Long ago, Yao ruled the world, set great principles, appointed Shun and Yu; Xia, Shang, and Zhou passed power to their sons, the exceptional did not follow tradition! Tang and Yu had clear laws, Xia had three thousand meat-eaters—those who did not conform were outstanding! Yao harmonized the clans, united the nations. Tang and Wu were mighty, conquering four times. Thus, the exceptional do not follow tradition. Those who achieve greatness must not be bound by minor matters."

Shen Chen asked tentatively, "So, Sir, you mean I should abandon the hatred of my hundred kin, and when Cao Cao’s army comes, bind myself and surrender?"

Song Zhong said nothing, staring impassively.

But silence said it all.

No one else was surprised; their expressions were matter-of-fact.

Do not think their views strange.

At least, in their eyes, there was nothing wrong.

Take Lu Xun, for example. Did he bear a grudge against Sun Ce? Certainly. His family of more than a hundred was killed by Sun Ce. Yet later, he served Eastern Wu under Sun Quan with utmost dedication.

The Han was broken, yes, but to these Han loyalists, serving the ruler was never wrong.

What was Cao Cao’s status? Close to the Emperor! Acting in the Emperor’s name to campaign against rebellious lords.

In Song Zhong’s eyes, that was the side of justice.

Thus, they believed Shen Chen’s resistance at Huangmen Pavilion, destroying five thousand of Cao Cao’s troops and killing his cousin Cao Ren, was a wrongful act.

It meant resisting the court, weakening Cao Cao’s power.

To weaken Cao Cao was to weaken the Emperor, reducing the chances of reclaiming lost territory.

So, their discussion was not about Shen Chen’s personal feud with Cao Cao, but why he opposed the Emperor.

They could not understand why Shen Chen opposed Cao Cao; even if his kin were killed, even if Cao Cao’s army attacked Huangmen Pavilion, he should not have killed Cao Ren and Le Jin, incurring Cao Cao’s wrath.

Thus, at that moment, Shen Chen’s position had already diverged from their entrenched, stubborn beliefs.

This had already been apparent when Shen Chen dined with Wang Can, Pang Tong, and Xu Shu.

The powerful ignored the lives of the lower classes; the renowned scholars valued reputation more. To them, blind loyalty and gaining power from the Emperor outweighed benevolence and love for the people.

So Song Zhong, ashamed that his disciple would defy the court, asked him to leave.

Even Wang Can and Pan Jun, once friends, might eventually part ways due to ideological differences.

Shen Chen felt disheartened.

No one was truly wrong.

At least, their beliefs were not wrong for their time.

Later, Wang Can and Song Zhong both submitted to Cao Cao, proving this. Not only Wang Can and Song Zhong, but most scholars of Jingzhou thought the same. Aside from Pang De Gong, Han Dan Chun, Du Xi, Zhao Yan, Fan Qin, and other eminent scholars of Jingzhou flocked to Cao Cao after he welcomed the Emperor.

Later, when Liu Cong surrendered Jingzhou, even Sima Hui did not refuse Cao Cao’s summons, though he died before taking office.

Thus, the political prestige Cao Cao gained by welcoming the Emperor was immense.

Otherwise, before the Battle of Guandu, Yuan Shao’s performance was superior to Cao Cao’s. If not for Liu Xie, the scholars of Jingzhou would have supported Yuan Shao over Cao Cao.

Now, because Shen Chen resisted Cao Cao, he could no longer stand among his peers, and in despair, knelt before Song Zhong. "Though our paths differ, Master, your teachings are strict and noble. Even if I leave the Academy, I will always remember your kindness. I bid you farewell—but one day, Master, you will see that Cao Cao is not a good man. Time will reveal all."

With that, he turned and walked away.

Everyone watched; Wang Can seemed about to speak, Pan Jun’s eyes showed reluctance, the other teachers and students had varied expressions, mostly regretful.

Song Zhong did not try to keep him. His later rebuke by Liu Bei proved his thinking was fundamentally different from Shen Chen’s.

Though learned, Yang Xiong, the greatest talent of the Han, still humbled himself before Wang Mang, despised by Zhuge Liang.

Thus, those who admire power are countless, and those who hold ignorant beliefs as sacred are equally numerous. Their paths simply differ.

Only a child among the group, eyes bright, suddenly said, "Brother Shen Chen, I think you are right. I’ll go down the mountain with you."

Everyone looked—it was a six-year-old, Zhou Buyi, who often followed Shen Chen.

Though young, Zhou Buyi was clever; after Liu Xian sent him to the mountain last year, he became Song Zhong’s disciple. Song Zhong disliked teaching children, found Zhou Buyi too young, so Shen Chen was asked to guide him.

Liu Xian had entrusted him to Shen Chen, who did not refuse. Though busy, he always patiently taught Zhou Buyi whenever he had questions.

After a year, Zhou Buyi had learned much from Shen Chen, regarding him as a mentor. Now, seeing Shen Chen about to leave, he naturally wished to follow.

Since Song Zhong nominally taught him, but his learning from Song Zhong was not a tenth of what he gained from Shen Chen, he preferred to go with Shen Chen.

Seeing Zhou Buyi alone willing to follow, Shen Chen laughed heartily. "Ha ha ha, good! Buyi, come with me down the mountain. Master, fellow disciples, I am leaving. 'Knowing is difficult, acting is harder.' I will unite knowledge and action—let time prove us right or wrong!"

He took Zhou Buyi’s hand and left the Academy without looking back.

He no longer wished to remain in that place, steeped in the worst of feudal ideology.

He would depart, and let all of Jingzhou see whether his resistance against Cao Cao was right or wrong.

"Brother Shen!"

"Yes!"

Shen Changqing walked along the road, greeting familiar faces with a nod or a word.

But regardless of who it was, none showed much expression—their faces indifferent to all.

He was used to this.

This was the Demon Suppression Bureau, an institution dedicated to maintaining the stability of Great Qin, chiefly responsible for slaying demons and monsters, though it had other side duties.

Indeed, everyone here bore the stains of much blood.

When one is accustomed to death, one becomes indifferent to many things.

At first, upon arriving in this world, Shen Changqing struggled to adapt, but gradually grew accustomed.

The Bureau was vast.

Only those of great strength or potential could remain.

Shen Changqing belonged to the latter.

The Bureau had two roles: Suppressing Envoy and Demon Slayer.

All entrants began as the lowest Demon Slayers, then advanced step by step, with the hope of becoming Suppressing Envoys.

His predecessor was an apprentice Demon Slayer—the lowest rank.

He inherited the memories of his predecessor, so was deeply familiar with the Bureau’s environment.

He soon arrived before a certain pavilion.

Unlike the other grim places in the Bureau, this pavilion stood out like a crane among chickens, offering a rare tranquility amidst bloodshed.

The doors stood open; occasionally, people came and went.

Shen Changqing hesitated only briefly before stepping inside.

Upon entering, the atmosphere changed.

A scent of ink, mingled with a faint trace of blood, greeted him. He instinctively frowned, but soon relaxed.

The smell of blood on everyone here could never be fully washed away.