Chapter 40: Woo! Where is my uncle? (2 / 2)

After changing into his official robes, he hurried to the palace at top speed. As soon as he arrived, he heard the smug voices of the detestable Old Text School boasting:

“You’ve been going on and on about hidden meanings and profound principles. Well then, what are these profound principles in The Spring and Autumn Annals of Gongyang? Speak up! Can’t say it, can you?”

His expression immediately turned cold and stern.

Without hesitation, he strode into the hall.

“The Spring and Autumn Annals of Gongyang contains precisely twenty-nine profound principles,” he declared.

As it became increasingly clear that the New Text School was on the verge of collapse, the Old Text scholars’ eyes gleamed with fervor.

They had never dreamed they’d have such an opportunity to overthrow the New Text School today and restore the dominance of ancient texts!

At that moment, a cold, clear voice came from the entrance of the hall:

“The Spring and Autumn Annals of Gongyang contains precisely twenty-nine profound principles.”

The voice grew louder as the speaker approached.

“First: honoring vengeance. Can revenge still be sought after nine generations? Even after a hundred generations, it can be justified…”

“Second: expelling the barbarians. When China is on the brink of collapse, Duke Huan saves it, drives out the barbarians, and secures the Southlands, embodying the duties of a king…”

“Third: cherishing death for righteousness. When Feng Choufu sacrifices himself in place of Duke Jing of Qi, he gives up his life…”

“Fourth: punishing traitors and bandits…”

“Fifth…”

The man reached the center of the hall, standing between the Modern Script and Ancient Script factions just as he finished reciting the twenty-ninth principle.

Then, with a scornful laugh, he sneered, his tone dripping with arrogance and disdain:

“Little bugs of the Ancient Script School…”

He spoke slowly, his voice like a sharp blade.

“…are unworthy of discussing the meanings of scripture.”

The scholars of the Modern Script School, as if seeing their savior, cried out in unison:

“Master Ji!”

Meanwhile, in the prison.

The Emperor’s grandson rested his chin on his hands, waiting with eager anticipation for his uncle’s return.

—Uncle must have gone to plead with Grandfather on my behalf!

Back at court, Quan Yizhang, aged eighty-six, and Ji Sui, aged forty-six, were leading their respective factions in a no-holds-barred intellectual brawl.

The air crackled with hostility as they tore into each other with words sharper than swords. Politeness and decorum were tossed aside as insults flew fast and hard.

Don’t assume a scholar’s quarrels would be genteel. If anything, insults like “may you die a miserable death”

or “shorten your years” were mild compared to the likes of “heaven’s lackey” or “a wretched spawn of beasts.”

After all, even Mencius once called the Mohists “animals” and dismissed the Agrarians as “barbarians speaking gibberish.”

This verbal sparring continued unabated, starting in the morning and stretching past noon.

A jailer brought a meal to the Emperor’s grandson.

“I don’t need it. Take it away,” the boy scoffed disdainfully.

—I’ll be out of here soon! Who needs this wretched prison food?

Quan Yizhang rolled up his sleeves. “You immoral pig-dog! You understand nothing of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, or faith!”

Ji Sui slammed the table. “The great duty to ruler and father is the heavenly principle and the earthly righteousness. You, without ruler or father, are but a beast!”@@novelbin@@

By evening, the jailer returned with another meal.

Irritated, the Emperor’s grandson flipped the tray over.

“I said I don’t want it!” he growled, his stomach growling in protest.

His gaze drifted longingly to the corner of the room.

—Uncle must be working hard to save me right now!

“You rascal!” Quan Yizhang roared, restrained by a crowd of people. “Mark my words, I’ll go back and scour the scriptures! Tomorrow, I’ll debate you again!”

“Old man!” Ji Sui retorted, his sharp tongue not missing a beat. “Come at me! I fear you not! Heretical Ancient Script fools—I’ll see to it you’re rejected by Heaven and Earth!”

Late at night.

The Emperor’s grandson lay on the straw heap, his stomach growling so loudly it seemed to echo through the prison.

He stared blankly at the ceiling, tears welling in his eyes.

—Uncle, where are you? Uncle…

Ji Sui sat in his study, flipping through scripture and historical texts with furrowed brows.

A twelve-inch candle burned steadily, its wax gradually melting down inch by inch.

As the moon dipped lower in the sky, the candle shortened to a mere stub.

With the crow of a rooster, Ji Sui finally stood up and stretched.

“I feel like I forgot something,” he muttered to himself.

“Wait!”

His hand froze on a page that had been flipped by the breeze.

“I forgot this line!”

Donning his official robes, he marched out with renewed vigor.

“Those thieves of the Ancient Script School! Today, I’ll make them kneel and beg for mercy!”

Oh My God! He forgot line. Hahahahahha. Poor Emperor’s Grandson