CHAPTER 151: CHAPTER 89: A FEARLESS DEATH FOR RIGHTEOUSNESS, IT HAPPENS TODAY_3

Dujuan saluted Zheng Fan solemnly and said, "Lord Zheng, I am utterly at a loss."

Shirking.

Completely and utterly shirking responsibility.

Zheng Fan nodded, grateful for his mental preparation. Why had Zuo Jiqian hesitated and not accepted this task? This was because such actions would offend the scholars of Yan, having far-reaching implications. However, whereas Zuo Jiqian couldn’t accept this, Zheng Fan could. He looked at the route through which many flatterers had ascended to power. Most were willing to be the scapegoats for those above them, getting their own hands dirty to smooth their path to success. Zheng Fan didn’t care about his reputation, nor did he worry about being held accountable in the future. Firstly, he had to secure his own future. Secondly, no matter what the future held, he wouldn’t commit himself completely to becoming Yan’s Yue Wumu.

Hundreds of academy students gathered under the entrance plaque, completely blocking the gate with their righteous indignation.

"Confucius says, ’Become benevolent,’ Mencius says, ’Seek righteousness!’ Fellow classmates, we must not let these government servants enter our academy and recklessly cause chaos!"

"Yes, this is the cradle of Yan’s culture; we cannot let these bastards run amok here!"

"The dignity of Yan’s literati is in our hands today!"

"Come, servants, if you wish to enter the academy to arrest someone and sully our academy’s reputation, you’ll have to step over our dead bodies!"

"What we are guarding today is the moral integrity of Yan, the righteous path of Yan!"

"In ten years, a hundred years, future scholars entering this gate will certainly write eulogies for us!"

"Look, those soldiers are Barbarians!"

"What? They actually dare to put Barbarians by the academy’s door? It’s blasphemy against poetry and prose!"

Hundreds of white-robed figures blocked the entrance plaque, spittle flying as they passionately protested.

Zheng Fan raised his left pinky finger, dug in his ear, then brought the finger to his lips and blew on it.

The intention of the government forces being here should be clear to the people at the academy. The agent from the Spy Bureau who previously entered to submit the arrest warrant should also have explained the situation. But they had been beaten and thrown out.

Seeing the angry crowd cursing fiercely, and the constant influx of students and instructors from the mountain gathering under the arch, swelling their ranks and voices, Zheng Fan felt somewhat amused.

Turning his head, he spoke to Liang Cheng, who was on horseback beside him, "Is this considered a cultural invasion by Qian State?"

Liang Cheng pondered for a moment, then nodded.

A century ago, the first Earl of North Border broke the military backbone of Qian State, but he couldn’t break their century-long cultural output towards Yan State. The art of the zither, chess, calligraphy, painting, etiquette, and morality all became weapons in Qian State’s counterattack. Zheng Fan, who had spent time in the north, knew full well that it wasn’t Yan’s fault its cultural influence couldn’t flourish. In the north were the Barbarians, their hostile ambitions undying, while to the south, the three states watched like hungry tigers. Only in recent years, with the Earl of North Border suppressing the Desert Barbarians, did Yan enjoy a few decades of peace. In the past, the men of Yan spent their time either fighting the Barbarians in the desert on horseback or going to war with the three southern states. Who would have time to compose poetry and prose? If it were indeed the case, Yan would have perished long ago. The funniest thing is why these academy students would be so agitated, even proactive. There must be some deeper reasons. Especially when Zheng Fan saw the instructors and old scholars coming down the mountain, he was more certain of his suspicion. The literati in the academy were using this opportunity to pressure the court, forcing it to give in. They were yearning for Yan to become like Qian, a paradise for scholars.

Curious, Zheng Fan looked at Dujuan and asked, "This isn’t the first time you’ve come to arrest someone, is it?"

"We’ve come quite a few times, but we’ve never been able to get in," replied Dujuan honestly.

"Why not?"

"They wouldn’t allow it."

"Is your Spy Bureau so civilized?"

"Lord Zheng, what do you mean by ’civilized’?"

"It means to be kind to people."

At this moment, some more students came down from the mountain, carrying a large plaque.

Written on the plaque were the words: "The Sea of Learning has no Bounds."

"The Prime Minister himself inscribed this plaque. I’d like to see who dares act recklessly at the academy’s entrance!" shouted an old scholar, leaning on his cane.

Then, an academy student began to chant:

"The academy has nurtured scholars for 60 years; today we uphold justice unto death!"

"Uphold justice unto death, today is the day!"

"Uphold justice unto death, today is the day!"

"..."

"Well, they’re quite synchronized, just like a choir," Zheng Fan grinned.

"Lord Zheng, this is what happens every time we come," explained Dujuan.

"So, you’ve helped them practice. Actually, this is all the Earl of North Border’s fault."

"Why?" Dujuan asked, puzzled.

"He let them live too comfortably."

"So, Lord Zheng, what do you plan to do?" Dujuan looked at Zheng Fan and asked again.

Zheng Fan suddenly felt as if he were being tested, though the answers were something he and Blind Bei had agreed upon the previous night. More accurately, his decision was set when he accepted the military order in front of Lord Jingnan yesterday.

Zheng Fan raised his left hand and urged his horse forward.

Liang Cheng spurred his horse forward as well, followed by his four hundred Barbarian cavalrymen.

Hundreds of well-equipped horsemen steadily advancing towards you is enough to chill a common man’s heart. Especially when all these horsemen bore the faces of the Barbarians!

The students under the ornamental archway of the academy began to retreat instinctively. Over the past six months, both the Spy Bureau and the local garrison had paid them several visits, but never with such a grand display of power!

Seeing this, an old scholar shouted out, "Do not fear, they dare not, they dare not!"

"Indeed, fellow students, do not panic! If they dare to use force in our academy, countless righteous men throughout the land will not let them go!"

"Confucius says, ’Become benevolent,’ Mencius says, ’Seek righteousness!’ Uphold justice and die a martyr—today is the day!"

"Where is the pride of us Yan literati?"

"The Yan literary spirit... will never die!"

Emotions are contagious. Fired up by the speeches, the students under the archway reignited their passion.

Zheng Fan and his Barbarian cavalry were getting closer.

Just then, a middle-aged man in a white robe ran out from the crowd under the ornamental archway.

He pointed at Zheng Fan and roared, "Servant! I am Sanshi Huang Zichong. Do you know where you are?"

First, he insults him by calling him a servant, then he announces his name and origin. Get famous early, and seize the opportunity to promote yourself. Same old tricks, same old tactics, all of it. If Zheng Fan were to retreat now, then this man could make a name for himself.

Zheng Fan ignored him and continued to spur his horse forward.

Seeing this, Huang Zichong pointed to his own neck and bellowed, "Servant! Do you know the blood of the benevolent will never run out?"

Zheng Fan’s horse came up to Huang Zichong.

"Servant! As scholars, we may die, but our spirit will live on forever!"

Zheng Fan drew his sword.

"Come on, slash here, strike here if you dare. I want to see if you dare to—"

Zheng Fan swung his sword.

SLICE!

Huang Zichong’s head left his body and spun in the air, disbelief filling his eyes.

THUMP!

Huang Zichong’s head hit the ground.

His headless body spurted out blood.

The next moment, all was silent.

All the students, instructors, and great scholars of the academy were utterly dumbstruck.

Breaking this silence was Zheng Fan.

He once again spurred his warhorse forward.

At the moment the horse’s hooves lifted again, the passionate fervor of the hundreds of academy members—the vaunted pride of Yan’s literati—completely shattered.

They began to run away frantically. The elderly instructors and scholars were squeezed onto the ground by the crowd and cried out in pain amidst the chaos.

A student who had previously led the shout, "Uphold justice unto death, today is the day!" now had a face full of terror.

As he ran toward the back mountain, shoving his classmates out of his way, he screamed, "Mother! They really dare to kill, they’ve dared to actually kill..."