Chapter 230: Did I… accidentally stumble into a battlefield? (1 / 2)

In the courtyard, the breeze carried the fragrance of plum blossoms, filling the entire garden with their scent.

A cat and a dog playfully darted through the fence, and a plump rooster clucked noisily.

The elegant and the mundane coexisted. In Ji Sui’s plum garden, Qin Zheng’s chickens would sometimes wander in. As Ji Sui played the qin, the chickens would cluck in response, creating a comical scene. Not long after, the flustered maidservants hired by Qin Zheng would rush in to carry the chickens away. Qin Zheng clearly wanted nothing to do with Ji Sui.

All of this took place far away in Luzhou.

—Ji Sui was the governor of Luzhou.

Now, however, Ji Sui was lying in his old residence in the capital, wrapped in thick blankets, staring blankly at the canopy above.

Just moments ago, Qin Zheng had come to see him, her footsteps unusually light—steps he had never heard before. What followed was more than a mere conversation; in Ji Sui’s perception, it felt more like a declaration.

His granddaughter had told him that she had found her own path. She planned to help the Crown Prince recover his health and carve out a free and independent future for herself.

Ji Sui… fell silent.

For the first time, he realized that Qin Zheng… might not need him to plan out every detail of her life.

—She could live well on her own.

Ji Sui remained secluded in the residence for three days, shutting himself off from external affairs.

On the fourth day, Quan Yizhang came knocking.

Though already eighty-eight years old, the elder still walked with vigor, supported by a cane but radiating energy with every step. His eyes lit up with sharpness as he entered and spotted Ji Sui, who looked despondent. Raising an eyebrow, Quan Yizhang let out a cold, abrupt laugh. “I take it you’ve already heard about the claim that Mao’s version of the Book of Songs is a forgery?”

The Book of Songs now had four recognized versions. The ancient script versions—Qi, Lu, and Han—were written in archaic characters, while the modern script version, Mao’s Book of Songs, was transcribed in contemporary characters and had become the most widely accepted.

The leaders of the ancient script school, however, had recently declared Mao’s Book of Songs

a forgery—a move clearly aimed at undermining the foundation of the modern script school.

Ji Sui, who had been lifeless until now, suddenly raised his head. His gaze at Quan Yingzhang turned sharp, like a bolt of lightning slicing through the sky.

He dusted off his sleeves, stood up, and spoke slowly and deliberately, “Oh? Do tell me in detail.”

The atmosphere instantly became tense and combative.

Behind Quan Yingzhang stood several scholars of the ancient script school. Their eyes were fixed on Ji Sui, a mix of wariness and amusement.

—After all, Ji Sui had been dealt a heavy blow by recent family and official matters. Even if he managed to pull himself together, what could he really accomplish?

At that moment, voices came from the doorway. “Lord Ji!!!”

Ji Sui looked over and saw a group of officials from the modern script school stumbling in, looking utterly disheveled. Their expressions clearly showed they had been thoroughly humiliated.

Ji Sui narrowed his eyes slightly. “Speak. What happened?”

One of the officials stepped forward, hastily organizing his words. “Lord Ji, regarding the phrase ‘Bestowing upon me millet (lai mou),’ is the use of the character ‘lai’ incorrect? The modern script interpretation holds that ‘lai’ is interchangeable with ‘wheat (mai).’ However, the ancient script school recently argued that the character for ‘mai’ (wheat) has the component ‘夂’ below it, which depicts a foot facing downward. How could wheat grow feet? Thus, in ancient times, the character for ‘mai’ must have represented ‘walking.’ Therefore, they claim, ‘lai’ could never be interchangeable with ‘mai.’”

This argument essentially asserted that the modern script school’s interpretation of the Book of Songs was flawed.

Ji Sui’s brow furrowed instinctively.

The choice of words from this official suggested that many within the modern script school were beginning to accept the notion that “‘lai’ cannot be interchangeable with ‘mai.’”

This… was not good.

The interpretation of chapters and annotations has always been the cornerstone of the modern script school. If they couldn’t refute this argument, it was likely that many disciples of the modern script school would either lose their scholarly resolve or switch to studying the ancient script school.

But where could the rebuttal come from?

Quan Yingzhang stood to the side, leaning on his cane, patiently waiting. In truth, however, he didn’t think Ji Sui could come up with a response—or at least, not in a short amount of time.

Ji Sui didn’t rush to speak. His brows furrowed deeper and deeper, a crease forming between them.

The officials from the modern script school fixed their eyes on Ji Sui, hope gleaming in their gazes.

After a brief silence, Ji Sui let out a low chuckle and ordered, “Bring me paper and a brush.”

“Yes, sir!!!”

The modern script officials, barely containing their excitement, hurriedly fetched paper and a brush.

Now it was Quan Yingzhang’s turn to frown.

His aged hand gripped the handle of his cane tightly, his demeanor tense, much like a cat on the verge of bristling.

Ji Sui wrote the character “來 (lai)” on the paper and said aloud, “The character ‘來’ carries the form of grains (he mai). The two ‘人’ shapes on either side represent the drooping stalks of wheat.”@@novelbin@@

Quan Yingzhang sneered, “If that’s the case, doesn’t it further prove that the character ‘來’ symbolized grains in ancient times? This still fails to prove that the character ‘麥’ represented grains back then. Ji, are you planning to abandon the modern script school and join us in the ancient script school?”

Ji Sui acted as if he hadn’t heard the mocking remark. Instead, he calmly wrote the character “麥 (mai)” beside it.

Then, in an unhurried tone, he explained:

“In the Book of Songs, Great Elegance (Daya), it is written: ‘Bestowing upon us excellent seeds.’ This line clearly states that fine grains are a blessing bestowed by the heavens. What is given by the heavens, and the character ‘麥’ (mai), with its top part symbolizing grains (he mai) and its bottom part ‘夂’ representing a foot facing downward—does this not reflect the idea of grains ‘falling from the heavens’? Thus, the character ‘麥’ indeed represents grains and not walking.”

The officials of the ancient script school turned pale. They hadn’t expected Ji Sui to find a way to counter their argument so decisively.

Ji Sui continued his rebuttal.

“Master Quan, it seems you haven’t even fully studied the Book of Songs,” he said with a playful, arrogant smile. “Instead of nitpicking over annotations, perhaps you should go home and study how many ways there are to write the character ‘回’.”

The officials from the modern script school exchanged glances, their faces lighting up with joy and relief.

One by one, the officials gazed at Ji Sui with eyes full of unhidden admiration and longing.

“Master Ji!!!”

The moon encircled by towering mountains!!!

The ancient script scholars couldn’t help but let their eyes drift toward their “moon.”

Quan Yingzhang’s mind, however, remained startlingly calm.

Lines of annotations flashed rapidly through his thoughts, while different interpretations of characters surged forth in his mind like sparks.

The solution to breaking this impasse was…

Right here!

“Heaven? Do you mean Heaven as in the divine?” Quan Yingzhang tapped his cane firmly on the ground and looked at Ji Sui with a composed expression. “How laughable.”

“Take, for instance, the Mao Edition of the Book of Songs, which discusses the hymn Suwen (Thoughtful Wen) in the Zhou Hymns. It explicitly describes the music of ‘Hou Ji worshipping Heaven.’ The line ‘Thoughtful Wen Hou Ji, befitting the heavens’ clearly identifies ‘heaven’ as the Emperor. This ‘lai’ in mai cong tian lai (grains come from Heaven) shouldn’t mean the ‘arrival’ of grains, but rather the ‘granting’ or ‘bestowal’ of grains (lai as in lai 賚). Thus, it’s not that grains come from the heavens, but that they are bestowed by Hou Ji, who symbolizes Heaven’s will.”

Now it was Ji Sui’s turn to tense his facial muscles.