Dafeng Night Watchman

Chapter 19: Chapter 19 Farewell Poem



Sheep Pavilion in the suburbs of Kyoto!

Several luxurious carriages stopped by the pavilion. The wind was cold outside, and the rolling hills were light brown.

The sun was hanging tepidly, and people felt a warmth that was no less than that of a child in the early winter.

The Ziyang Layman of Yunlu Academy was about to take office.

For Yunlu Academy, which was gradually declining in the officialdom, it was a great joy.

The teachers of the academy sang and sang, and the students were excited. They all felt proud and the day of coming out was coming soon.

In the pavilion, three old men sat opposite each other and drank tea. One of them was wearing a purple robe and his temples were white. He was the protagonist of this farewell.

Yang Gong, whose courtesy name was Ziqian and whose nickname was Ziyang Layman, was the top scholar in the 14th year of Yuanjing. He retired the following year and returned to Yunlu Academy to study. In the past 22 years, his students were all over the world and he became a world-famous scholar.

He should have had a better future, and it would have been no problem for him to enter the cabinet and become a prime minister, but he left the officialdom sadly at the peak of his career. There were many different opinions among the scholars about this matter. Some said that he had offended the emperor and had to retire.

Some said that he had offended the prime minister of the dynasty and was inferior to others in means, so he packed up his bedding and left in disgrace.

But no matter what, 22 years later, he finally came out again. He went to Qingzhou to serve as the governor.

A real frontier official.

The other two were also of high status. Not to mention their status in Yunlu Academy, their reputation outside was not inferior to that of Ziyang Jushi.

The one wearing a gray robe and a goatee was called Li Mubai, a great chess player. He was once known as the best chess player in the world. Five years ago, he played three games with Wei Yuan, Duke of Wei, and lost all of them. He angrily threw the chessboard and never played chess again.

The one wearing a blue robe was called Zhang Shen, a master of military strategy. His early work "Six Commentaries on the Art of War" is still a must-read publication for military officers and generals in Dafeng.

He is the only military master in Dafeng who can be compared with Wei Yuan.

Outside the pavilion stood a group of students who were seeing him off, all of whom were students with great potential in Yunlu Academy.

Xu Xinnian was among them.

"Mr. Ziyang has finally come out of retirement. If we can be appreciated by him, we will definitely have a prosperous career in the officialdom in the future." A familiar classmate whispered: "Cijiu, have you prepared your poem?"

My brother prepared one for me... and it was half a seven-character poem... Xu Xinnian looked into the pavilion and said lightly: "You prepared half a poem in a sloppy manner, Uncle Yong, you are too utilitarian."

The seven-character poem has a strict rhythm, requiring the number of words in the poem to be uniform, consisting of eight sentences, each with seven words, and two sentences in a couplet, for a total of four couplets.

Xu Qian'an only gave him two couplets of the seven-character poem. Xu Xinnian asked after dinner, but his cousin hesitated and changed the subject, and just didn't give him the last two couplets.

"This is not utilitarianism. The sea of learning is like the sea of officialdom. You have to work hard and make money by scheming." The friend said, as if he knew that Xu Xinnian was not good at poetry, so he did not ask more questions.

"Yongshu is right. The current officialdom is corrupt. The clerks cooperate with corrupt officials to exploit the people. There have been natural disasters for years. If you want to change the situation, you have to be more active." Another student joined the topic.

The student named Yongshu nodded and looked at Xu Xinnian: "You always say that poetry is a minor art, but no matter how good your articles are, who will remember you after decades? But poetry can be passed down from generation to generation."

Poetry is a minor art. It cannot govern the country or benefit the people. It is just a pretentious art... Xu Erlang was about to say this, but considering that he was about to use the minor art of pretentious art to please the old senior, he swallowed his words and hummed vaguely.

Yongshu looked at him in surprise and did not argue!

Li Mubai, a master of the art of war, sighed: "Brother Yang, if you had been as smart as them, you wouldn't have wasted more than 20 years."

Zi Yang Jushi smiled.

"That's not right," said Zhang Shen, a master of military strategy, laughing and drinking tea: "Brother Yang is ambitious and is paving the way for the 'life' realm."

Hearing this, Zi Yang Jushi sighed: "After all, he was squeezed out of the officialdom."

"This is not your problem. Those people from the Imperial College will not watch our Yunlu Academy turn over."

"Humph, a group of villains who only know how to bully the superiors and play tricks, have ruined the world in less than two hundred years."

This matter involves a very interesting history.

Confucianism originated from the saints. As an academy founded by the saint's great disciple, Bailu Academy claims to be the orthodox Confucianism. This is indeed the case.

But two hundred years ago, because of the dispute over the foundation of the country, it was completely rejected by the emperor at that time.

At this time, a traitor appeared in Bailu Academy, or so Bailu Academy thought.

The traitor was originally a teacher in Bailu Academy. He took this opportunity to set up his own school, and used the idea of "preserving heavenly principles and eliminating human desires" to please the emperor. With the support of the emperor, he established the Imperial Academy and became a master of his generation.

Since then, the Imperial Academy has replaced Yunlu Academy and become the main agency for sending court officials.

The dispute over the orthodoxy of Confucianism has therefore continued for two hundred

years.

Ziyang Jushi said in a deep voice: "I am going to expand the territory of Bailu Academy and lay the foundation for the officialdom, but if I want to revive the past glory of the academy, I alone is not enough. We need to work together, and we need outstanding young people."

Li Mubai and Zhang Shen smiled at each other, and the latter turned his head and looked at the students outside the pavilion: "Is there anyone willing to write a poem to send to Ziyang

Jushi?"

"There must be a prize for reciting poems, otherwise it will be meaningless." Ziyang Jushi took off a purple jade from his waist: "The one who wins the first prize can get a jade

pendant."

The jade pendant shone with purple light, which was extraordinary.

The eyes of the students outside the pavilion lit up at once. The great scholar carried a jade pendant with him, which was baptized by talent and contained magic. If they could get it, it would definitely be of great benefit.

At the same time, Ziyang Jushi used purple jade as a prize, and there was a deeper meaning.

The things that elders carry with them are only given to juniors and students. In other words, if you take this jade pendant, you are mine...my student.

"I would like to write a poem to send off Master Ziyang." A tall student wearing a green Confucian robe and a jade pendant on his waist stepped out and bowed to the three great Confucian scholars in the pavilion.

Li Mubai smiled and said, "This is my student Zhu Tuizhi, who has quite a bit of poetic

talent."

Master Ziyang smiled and nodded.

After the student named Zhu Tuizhi recited the farewell poem, Master Ziyang's smile deepened, and he was obviously very satisfied.

"Not bad." Zhang Shen, a master of military strategy, praised without further comment. The two great Confucian scholars present were more talented in poetry than him.

But a good beginning may not necessarily have a good ending. The following scene can probably be described as a dog's tail and a sable.

The poems and lyrics that followed were not satisfactory and barely qualified.

Li Mubai sighed: "Since the Imperial Academy re-annotated the classics of the saints, preserving the principles of heaven and eliminating human desires, students all over the world can only stick to the classics and bury themselves in poetry. Over time, they have fallen into the situation of 'shackles of rhetoric, fragmented and cumbersome' and cannot extricate themselves. Articles and poems no longer have spirituality."

Speaking of the latter, he was heartbroken.

This is also the reason why Confucianism began to weaken in modern times. Two hundredn/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

years ago, the famous saying of Confucianism was: Buddhism is great, Taoism is great, and

sorcerers are not bad. The Gu Masters and wizards who have taken a different path are also very spiritual and worthy of praise... Oh, please go out, you crude warriors, this is a gathering of elegant people. By the way, take the monsters with you. The rest of you here, forgive me for

being blunt, are all garbage!

That's how awesome Confucianism was back then.

What about now?

Major cultivation systems: What's the matter, little brother?

Confucianists trembled: mmp.

Ziyang Layman sighed, "Forget it, let's not talk about this. Students, who else is willing to

write a poem?"

No one came for a long while.

Zhu Tuizhi stared at Ziyu with a fiery gaze, thinking that this was his bag.

"Sir, I have a poem." Xu Xinnian walked out of the crowd and came to the pavilion.

He had deliberately kept silent until now. He was a low-key and humble person, and didn't

want to embarrass his classmates by throwing out a good poem too early. It had absolutely nothing to do with the sweet words he and Zhu Tuizhi had exchanged.