Chapter Forty: Am I Beautiful?

In his heart, Yan Luo silently recalled the ancient Greece that Wang Dongwei had described, the three great tragedians—the Father of Tragedy, Aeschylus, who was said to have already died, supposedly by being struck on the head by a falling tortoise from the sky… Truly deserving of the title Father of Tragedy. Sophocles' representative work was "Oedipus Rex," telling the story of Oedipus who killed his father and married his mother. Euripides' masterpiece was "Medea," about Medea betraying her own father to help Jason steal the Golden Fleece, bearing him two sons, and then, when Jason intended to marry the daughter of the King of Corinth, being abandoned; Medea poisoned the king and the princess, and then killed her own two sons.

Now, the two old men stood up together.

Sophocles, who leaned on a white ash branch as a cane, cast a look of disdain at Euripides, who was fifteen years his junior. The two tragedians had deep-seated conflicts, almost mortal enemies, yet now, faced with an outsider, it was no time for quarrel.

He was about to speak, but Euripides spoke first.

"Just now I noticed something you said: because the clothes are beautiful, it is called 'Hua,' and because the rites are grand, it is called 'Xia.' So this is where the name Huaxia comes from?"

"Yes."

This was a phrase from the "Zuo Zhuan"; in fact, the "Zuo Zhuan" also records that the origin of Huaxia was Huaxu, the mother of Fuxi. But if he said that, these Greeks certainly wouldn't understand.

"Hahaha." Euripides threw back his head and laughed.

"Why does the gentleman laugh?" Yan Luo knew full well that this old man was laughing deliberately, waiting for this question.

All the Athenians held their breath, eyes fixed on Euripides.

Herodotus, who had just failed in debate and was now sitting dejected on the ground, had greatly disappointed them. Now all the hopes of the Greeks rested on these two champions of Athenian drama.

"Huaxia, and the name comes from clothes and ceremony? How laughable!"

"What is so funny?" Yan Luo asked calmly.

"Do you see that?" Euripides raised his hand, pointing to the great hall of the Parthenon.

Yan Luo looked over. There stood a statue of a goddess, about thirteen meters tall, inlaid with ivory and gold, dazzling brilliantly under the sunlight—a statue of the famed Athena, though it was later destroyed. In the present world, there still exists a marble replica held in the Athens Museum.

"Athena, the goddess of wisdom—she is the source of our city's name!"

Euripides turned, as though performing on stage, and before the eyes of all, declaimed in a resounding, dramatic tone:

"From the very dawn of civilization, the forces of nature and the will of the gods have reigned over humanity. Yet we, we revere the gods, we worship the gods, and we also praise mankind! This is an era where reason and faith coexist; this is an era of justice and civilization; this is an age in which man can achieve greatness."

"The reason for this is that we possess wisdom!"

His words instantly ignited the atmosphere of the square, a deep-seated pride flaring in the soul of every Athenian.

A wave of applause broke out.

Pericles, the Archon, was the first to clap, followed by the elders and councilors. One by one, the Athenians joined in; some even applauded with tears in their eyes. The applause lasted a full three minutes before subsiding.

The only one who did not clap was the still dazed "Father of History," Herodotus.

You feel a surge of intense emotion:

Excitement +1, excitement +1, excitement +1…

Within Yan Luo's consciousness, after setting aside the "Ghost Soldier: Ox-Head" persona, the capacity of the Heartless Puppet was finally filled to its limit of one hundred points. He had no way to release it now, and these emotions were a mix of expectation, anger, shock, excitement… all different types, so the chance of fusing them into a persona mask was almost zero.

Without further thought, he chose to fuse them anyway.

If successful, so many different emotions would surely create an immensely powerful persona mask! If not, he would at least receive a level-one mask fragment to combine into a heroic spirit mask.

"Pop!"

Fusion failed.

No miracle occurred.

A fragment remained in Yan Luo's mind, larger than the last.

"Level-one persona mask fragment: 10%."

Euripides was still declaiming loudly:

"Wisdom makes Athens great—the radiance of the goddess of wisdom shines upon our city! The very name of Athens comes from wisdom. Whether it is the wisdom of gods or men—yet you," he turned his head to Yan Luo, "the name of Huaxia comes from beautiful clothes and grand ceremony? Hahahaha…"

He laughed heartily.

Yan Luo did not reply, quietly watching Euripides' performance.

"If, in your country, clothing and ceremony are so important, let me first speak about clothes! What is beauty?"

"As a dramatist, I am especially sensitive to clothing and to beauty."

"The leather jacket and thermal pants you presented to Pericles may be called beautiful for their bright colors and soft texture—I admit, they are fine garments. But as diplomatic gifts, they are clearly rare and precious in your country, not representative of the common people."

This, Yan Luo could not refute at all… He could hardly tell these people that things like leather jackets and thermal underwear were everywhere in the present world, worth less than a hundred yuan. Now, seeing Pericles wearing them, reluctant to take them off, they must seem as valuable as a golden scepter.

"If we are to speak of clothing, we should speak of what the people commonly wear."

Euripides pointed to someone in the crowd.

It was a young man, in his twenties, tall and handsome, dressed in a short-sleeved, belted outer garment made from a whole piece of lambskin, with a skirt-like wave of pleats hanging from the waist.

"That is a chiton."

Then, pointing to himself, to the white linen robe fastened with pins, he said, "On me, a himation."

"These two kinds of clothing are true beauty. The chiton bares arms and legs to display the beauty of youthful muscle—passionate, vigorous, the belted waist showing fitness and grace. The himation, a single piece of linen folded and draped, fastened with pins, is comfortable, languid, elegant, and flowing with gentle lines."

"Chiton and himation, with their natural forms, flowing lines, high waists, pure colors, and fresh style, please the eye and soothe the heart. Such garments deserve to be called beautiful! But you, dressed in pale blue and white robes, look little different from the laborer's garb worn by slaves. What right have you to speak of 'beautiful clothing'?"

Applause broke out again.

"No wonder he is Euripides!"

"The envoy from Huaxia cannot possibly refute that!"

"Of course not! Our king of Athenian drama—how could a mere youth compare?"

You feel a surge of strong emotion:

Pride +1, pride +1, pride +1…

Yan Luo listened to the buzzing voices, felt the rapid rise of emotion within the Heartless Puppet, yet his expression remained calm.

"My clothing is called 'Zhiqu Shenyi,' the Straight-Cut Deep Robe."

"Euripides, you know nothing of the meaning contained in Huaxia attire."

"The upper garment is made of two pieces, folded to form four, representing the four seasons; the lower skirt is made of six pieces, each two-thirds the length of the body, joined together, one end six inches wide, the other a foot and two inches wide, the six pieces divided into twelve, representing the twelve months of the year. The sleeves are arched, symbolizing the compass; the collar crosses squarely, representing the square—this is to remind us to be upright, that no rule or square can be formed without standards. There is a seam down the back from the nape to the ankles, symbolizing integrity; the hem touches the ground, signifying balance."

"This is Huaxia attire—this is the true meaning of beauty! Its beauty lies not in appearance, but in substance!"

Using ancient Greek as before, Yan Luo translated the classical text perfectly, his clear voice suppressing all other discussion.

"Well done!"

Wang Dongwei clenched his fist in excitement. Yesterday he had only mentioned, in passing, the specifications of Hanfu, using the 'Zhuzi Shenyi' as an example. He hadn't expected Yan Luo to remember it all after hearing it once! In truth, that described the Zhuzi Shenyi, but the straight-cut deep robe he had made was little different—anyway, the Greeks couldn't tell.

This speech was enough to inspire pride!

Zhu Xiaoyong, who had already looked smug, now looked even more so.

Yan Luo cast a cold glance around the Greeks, who once again fell silent.

"Do not think, just because I am from Huaxia, that I don't know the so-called chiton comes from Crete. The Cretan women's chiton bares the chest, exposing the breasts! And the himation, a single piece of cloth fastened with pins and belts, can be undone with a gentle tug."

"Your clothing is designed purely for ease of exposure!"

Euripides' expression darkened, but he maintained his composure. "The beauty of the human body is the beauty of nature. We embrace nature, presenting ourselves as we are, displaying our godlike bodies and strong muscles—what of it?"

"Shameless!"

At Yan Luo's scolding, the old man glared angrily.

Yan Luo continued, "In Hebrew myth, after the world's first man, Adam, and first woman, Eve, ate the fruit of wisdom and gained knowledge, the first thing they did was feel ashamed of their nakedness and use leaves to cover themselves."

"Even ancient savages knew to wrap their loins with animal skins."

"Shame is innate to humanity. No matter how barbaric, those wild tribes do not expose their bodies. What makes us human is the sense of shame! In any civilized nation I have seen, none appear naked in public. Yet you, not only lack shame, you take pride in it!"

"I—I…" Euripides raised a trembling finger at Yan Luo but could not speak.

Yan Luo looked at him sternly: "Since you claim to regard exposure as beauty, then take off your clothes now and let us see the beauty of your body. Do you dare show your hairy, stooped, withered body? Shall we see it?"

"No, you wouldn't even dare look at your own aging body. The pure white linen draped over your frame cannot hide your inner filth."

"You—you…" Euripides clutched his chest, his lips quivering.

"In Huaxia we have a saying: 'A gentleman keeps his abilities hidden and acts when the time is right.'"

"Only at the proper moment does one reveal oneself."

Yan Luo undid the coiling dragon staff from his back and handed it to Zhu Xiaoyong—the three-hundred-pound man, having gained some basic strength, was not flattened by the sixty-two-pound iron staff—then unfastened his belt, removed his upper and lower garments, and even his underclothes, leaving only a strip of white cloth around his loins, nearly naked.

"I had not intended this, but since you prize exposure as beauty, then behold!"

Tens of thousands of Athenians, foreigners, and slaves—the citizens, women, and children—all stared at Yan Luo's body, their gazes burning, shocked, or bashful…

Wang Dongwei and Zhu Xiaoyong stood agape, dumbstruck.

A torrent of chaotic emotions surged into the Heartless Puppet.

Envy +1, shock +1, shame +1, excitement +1, sorrow +1, thrill +1, confusion +1…

Under countless gazes, Yan Luo tensed his muscles, his streamlined physique instantly tightening. Beneath his fair skin, smooth yet powerful contours appeared—muscle fibers rising in elegant relief, blending grace and strength into his form.

He struck a bodybuilder’s pose, displaying his physique and muscular lines fully to the eyes of the Greeks.

"Am I not beautiful?"

His powerful voice resounded across the entire Acropolis, echoing again and again.