Chapter Thirty-Six: In the Name of Scholarship

Wu Yuanshuang was the son of the captain of the Yingyang Garrison and, amongst the idle youth of Jinyang, hardly considered an extraordinary figure. However, he was also a student of Li Gang, the esteemed scholar of the Imperial Academy, who had served as tutor to the crown princes of both the Sui and Tang dynasties. In Chang’an or Luoyang, Li Gang was a man whose slightest movement could send tremors through the entire city. With such a formidable patron, even Li Jiancheng, son of Li Yuan, would have to greet Wu Yuanshuang as “worthy brother” upon meeting him. Jinyang was a far cry from the capitals, where dukes were as common as dogs and marquises strolled the streets. Here, there were only a handful of great clans, so few dared challenge Wu Yuanshuang’s arrogance.

Yet the person who had just arrived was one he truly feared—none other than his own father, Wu Shihuo. Of course, this man was not remembered for having a prodigal son like Wu Yuanshuang, but rather for his daughter, who would become a legend in the annals of history—Wu Zetian! But that is a tale for another time.

The instant Wu Yuanshuang saw his father, he wilted like an eggplant struck by frost. Though Wu Shihuo held the rank of captain in the Yingyang Garrison, he conducted himself more like a merchant than an official. The Wu family’s fortunes had declined entirely by his generation, so Wu Shihuo had cast aside his pride to become a tradesman. He owned a lumberyard and a brickyard, and even co-owned a pharmacy with the famed local physician, Zhang Wenzhong. On this day, he and Zhang Wenzhong were headed to the pharmacy for inventory, only to stumble upon his own son bullying a mother and child from out of town. Wu Shihuo felt as if he had been slapped in the face in front of the entire city.

“Wretched brat! What do you think you’re doing?” Wu Shihuo roared in fury. The crowd pressed in, three layers deep, and though Wu Yuanshuang had not yet seen his father, Wu Shihuo had witnessed everything. His son, unable to outargue the child, had flown into a rage and resorted to violence in broad daylight. If word of this incident spread, the Wu family’s reputation would be utterly ruined. Since becoming a merchant, Wu Shihuo valued his family’s honor above all else. For more than a decade, he had tread carefully, only for his son to squander everything in a single day.

“I was teaching this ignorant, deceitful brat a lesson,” Wu Yuanshuang retorted, stiffening his neck. His mind raced. There were too many witnesses for him to muddle through; his only hope was to steer the matter toward scholarship. If he could make the boy out to be a charlatan, trying to fool people with bogus learning and trickery, then he could claim the moral high ground for exposing a fraud. Not only would his father have no grounds to punish him, but he might even win some glory for himself—perhaps even win his cousin’s favor. After all, people were ignorant about such scholarly matters; even his father barely understood them. If ever there was a day for bluster, today was it.

With his mind made up, Wu Yuanshuang’s arrogance returned. He was not only a top student at the Jinyang Academy, but had also studied at the Imperial Academy. And what was the Imperial Academy, if not a place utterly beyond the reach of these country bumpkins?

“Er…” Wu Yuanshuang’s pivot to matters of learning left Wu Shihuo at a loss. Truth be told, he hadn’t understood the earlier exchange between his son and the boy, but the child’s words had rung with conviction. His experience in dealing with all sorts suggested the boy was probably not lying. Yet his son’s challenge left him uncertain—could the boy really be making things up? It didn’t seem likely. Unsure what to do, Wu Shihuo turned helplessly to Zhang Wenzhong, hoping his friend would offer some advice.

Catching Wu Shihuo’s glance, Zhang Wenzhong immediately understood. After a moment’s thought, he said, “This young man’s words sound reasonable. Since he claims to measure mountain heights by their shadows and the Yellow River’s depth with a ladle, let’s put him to the test. Boy, do you dare try?” Stroking his beard, Zhang Wenzhong smiled as he addressed Yun Hao.

This old fellow didn’t look like a good person—at least, that was Yun Hao’s first impression. Don’t ask why; it was just a gut feeling.

“Not interested,” Yun Hao replied bluntly, refusing the old man outright. Finding lodging for his mother was the priority. He hadn’t come to the Tang dynasty to play the wise man for a bunch of country bumpkins—he wanted good food and drink, not to educate these people. He had no desire to waste time on nonsense; raising the scientific literacy of the Sui populace was not his responsibility.

“Ha! The brat’s chickened out,” piped up the noodle vendor. Young Master Wu had tipped him an extra three coins and couldn’t care less. As for this country bumpkin, he’d nearly ruined the vendor’s business. If he didn’t take this chance to cause trouble for the kid, it wouldn’t be in his nature.

“That’s right! He sounded so sure of himself just now, but look at him now—spineless! All show and no substance, a silver spear’s tin tip!” jeered another—a rascal from the crowd, eager to curry favor with the wealthy Wu family. If he could ingratiate himself now, perhaps it would pay off in leaner days.

With a leader, followers multiplied. Stirring up trouble was a favorite pastime of the common folk, and soon everyone chimed in. After all, if you didn’t bully the out-of-towners, how could you show off the famed hospitality of Jinyang?

“A child who spouts nothing but nonsense—always knew you were a fraud! Today, I’ll teach you a lesson, so you’ll think twice before insulting the scholarship we hold dear in broad daylight!” Wu Yuanshuang was shrewd enough to avoid being accused of picking on the young, so he made sure to slap a big hat of deceit on Yun Hao first. No sooner had he finished speaking than he eagerly rolled up his sleeves, ready to mete out a lesson himself.

Wu Yuanshuang’s excuse was a clever one. Although Wu Shihuo sensed something amiss, he couldn’t think of a reason to object. In these times, learning was rare and thus precious. And those who faked scholarship to deceive others deserved a beating—some pedants would even kill for less.

Madam Zhao stood before Yun Hao, tense as a hen protecting her chick. Should Wu Yuanshuang dare charge forward, she would fight him with all her might.

Just as Wu Yuanshuang was about to lunge, a loud voice rang out: “Stop!”

P.S.: Zhang Wenzhong was a famed physician of the capital during the reign of Wu Zetian. For plot purposes, I’ve moved him back to the Sui dynasty—so historians, don’t nitpick! Even if you do, I’ll just ignore it.

Regarding updates: “Usurping Qin” is about to conclude, and I’m busy tying up all the loose ends. The current ending I’ve drafted has some issues, so I’m rewriting it to avoid disappointing my readers. Once “Usurping Qin” is finished, I’ll increase the update pace for this novel.