Chapter Twenty-Six: The Confucius Temple

"Confucius Temple..." Li Sanjian stared blankly at the three characters on the plaque above the temple gate, the bundle in his hand unknowingly slipping to the ground.

It turned out that the official school of Lingshan County, Qinzhou, was set within the Confucius Temple of the county. The county academy was housed in the temple, but Li Sanjian wasn’t surprised by this arrangement. What astonished—or rather disheartened—him was the sheer simplicity of the county academy, which fell far short of the grand image he held in his mind.

Not to mention the imposing grandeur, but at the very least, shouldn’t it be spacious and bright?

This Confucius Temple was a dilapidated little shrine, its buildings low and its walls broken, ravaged by the passage of time. Only from the remnants of sacrificial beasts on the eaves could Li Sanjian and his companions vaguely discern that the temple had once been of considerable scale.

Leaves covered the perimeter wall, wild grasses grew thick beneath it. If not for the couplet at the academy’s entrance, Li Sanjian would never have guessed this place was meant for the education of scholars.

The couplet read: “There is a path up the mountain of books, diligence is the way; the sea of learning has no end, hard work is the boat.”

Li Sanjian only surveyed the exterior; he had yet to see what lay within.

“What are you doing?” Just as Li Sanjian and the others peered inside, an old man of about fifty emerged from the temple and challenged them.

Li Sanjian couldn’t tell whether the man was a government clerk or merely a helper. His clothes were clean, but from attire alone, Li Sanjian could not discern his status.

“We students have come to seek learning. Would you kindly inform the authorities?” Li Sanjian guessed the man was a gatekeeper and so greeted him respectfully.

“Oh, you’ve come to study.” The old man picked at his ear with a bamboo stick, then asked, “Do you have a recommendation letter?”

“A recommendation? Yes, I do.” Li Sanjian hurriedly drew it from his robe and handed it over.

The so-called recommendation letter served as proof for seeking admission: it stated Li Sanjian’s place of origin, age, and was endorsed by the local authorities. The letter affirmed his willingness to enter the academy and abide by its regulations.

“So, from Qiong Tai, Danzhou,” the old man said, examining the letter. “Such a distant place. For one so young to come here—it’s no easy feat.”

“You’re right, sir. The journey was arduous; I struggled greatly to reach this place,” Li Sanjian replied, bowing.

The old man glanced at Li Sanjian, shook the letter, and asked, “Judging by your appearance, are you a Li native?”

“My ancestral home is Shaowu; I am Han,” Li Sanjian answered respectfully.

The old man, a little impatient, shook the letter again and asked, “Oh, Han? Why do you look like this, then?”

Li Sanjian was puzzled. The letter made everything clear—why did the man keep rambling instead of going in to report?

“My mother is Li, so…” Li Sanjian, though perplexed, answered truthfully.

“That’s all?” the old man interrupted.

“Is there anything else you wish to ask? I will answer without reserve,” Li Sanjian said, confused.

The old man’s face darkened at this, and after a moment’s contemplation, he said, “I’m old and frail, my legs aren’t what they used to be…”

If your legs are weak, why not rest? Li Sanjian wondered silently. The man seemed vigorous enough—why say such things?

The old man saw Li Sanjian’s skeptical expression and grew frustrated. He’d made his meaning clear—why did the boy not understand? Or was he deliberately feigning ignorance?

After a while, the old man looked up at the sky and sighed, “The weather is hot today. Running errands is no easy task. Do you understand yet? At least give an old man a drink for his trouble?”

Damn it, Li Sanjian finally understood and cursed inwardly. The man was demanding a tip for his trouble.

Though he disdained this, Li Sanjian knew he had no choice. As the saying goes, it’s easier to meet the King of Hell than to deal with his little devils.

Li Sanjian reluctantly counted out ten copper coins and handed them to the old man.

“Wait here.” The old man pocketed the coins, his demeanor improved, and he hurried inside the temple to report Li Sanjian’s arrival.

He moved faster than a rabbit—so much for frail legs. Li Sanjian wished the old man would trip and break his neck.

Li Sanjian had to provide for himself, as well as for Shankui and Bean Sprout, whose meals stretched thin. His funds were dwindling; he had to be frugal.

Before the old man reached the temple door, he ran into a man of about thirty.

This man had a square face, medium build, dark and rough skin, and three short whiskers under his chin. Without his pristine green official robe, he could easily be mistaken for a farmer.

His robe was spotless and exceptionally neat.

Seeing this man surrounded by academy students, the old man quickly bowed. “Greetings, Senior Huang.”

“What’s the matter?” Senior Huang frowned at the old man’s flustered manner.

The old man, discreetly tucking the copper coins into his sleeve, replied, “Reporting to Professor Huang, there are students outside seeking admission.”

“Hmm, do they have a recommendation letter? Where are they?” Professor Huang asked.

In Song times, the county academy was generally managed by the magistrate, with various academic officials responsible for its affairs. The Senior was in charge of both administration and teaching. According to Song regulations, new students seeking admission had to present themselves and their letters to the Senior or Professor, who would decide on their eligibility.

“They do have a letter; the student is over there,” the old man said, pointing to Li Sanjian.

Professor Huang walked over, scrutinized Li Sanjian for a while, and then said, “Go away. You needn’t apply.”

Li Sanjian was stunned, his heart burning with anger. He had endured countless hardships journeying from Qiong Tai, Danzhou, suffered exploitation along the way, only to be refused at the door, denied entry to the academy. Rage and frustration surged within him.

“Why do you deny me admission?” Li Sanjian struggled to restrain the urge to smash his book box over Professor Huang’s head, striving to remain calm.

“The reason why men are men lies in propriety and righteousness. The foundation of propriety is in proper appearance, harmonious expression, and orderly speech. When the body is upright, the expression is harmonious, and speech is orderly—then propriety and righteousness are complete. This is how rulers and subjects are distinguished, fathers and sons are close, elders and juniors are harmonious. When rulers and subjects are upright, fathers and sons are close, elders and juniors are harmonious—then propriety stands…” Professor Huang recited his reasons for refusal, not yet finished, and Li Sanjian inwardly groaned.

This world reveres propriety; Li Sanjian had already learned this lesson from Su Shi back in Qiong Tai, Danzhou. Yet, at the critical moment, he’d forgotten it once more.

At this moment, Li Sanjian’s face was covered in dust, his head wrapped in a kerchief, his clothes disheveled—a scholar seeking knowledge, yet so untidy and lacking in decorum. No wonder he was refused.

However, Li Sanjian was unfamiliar with Lingshan County. Where could he bathe and change? His family was poor; he had no spare clothes to change into. How could he present himself properly?

Li Sanjian felt wronged.

Of course, since Chen Yide had given Li Sanjian ten gold leaves, he could now afford new clothes. But eager to enter the academy and mindful of saving money, he’d neglected this matter.

“If propriety is lost, a man cannot fulfill his role, a family cannot thrive, a nation cannot stand… In this state, how can you seek learning?” Professor Huang prattled on, elevating the issue to the national level.

Li Sanjian was mortified, sweating with shame, unable to stand or sit comfortably.

“Master…” Shankui, seeing Li Sanjian’s embarrassment, was furious. With a word from Li Sanjian, Shankui would toss this frail, sharp-tongued man into the nearby river.

Li Sanjian shot Shankui a glance, then bowed to Professor Huang. “I admit my fault. But, may I ask, is there any way to make amends?”

“Go back and learn proper manners first,” Professor Huang replied, echoing Su Shi, and with that, he turned and left.

“Where did this rascal come from? You think you can study here?”

“He looks like a Li native.”

“That explains it. Barbarians know nothing of propriety.”

“Well said, brother. It’s not entirely his fault. Barely clothed, barely fed—how can he learn manners?”

After Professor Huang departed, the students gathered around, mocking Li Sanjian, treating him like a curiosity.

Shankui glared at the boys, but Li Sanjian shook his head, unwilling to argue. Not that he could.

“Let’s go!” Li Sanjian ordered Shankui.

If this place won’t have me, somewhere else will, Li Sanjian thought. If not for escaping the hardships at home, who would bother learning these useless things?

“Come on, Bean Sprout, let’s go find something good to eat,” Li Sanjian said, taking her little hand.

After several days on the road, all three were exhausted. It was time to find a tavern or a private home to rest and then reconsider their next move.

...

“Yanzhou, was that really necessary? He comes from such a wild place as Danzhou. Judging by his clothes, his family must be poor. Why must you be so strict with him?” After Li Sanjian left, the academy’s instructor, Zeng Bin, felt a pang of sympathy and tried to persuade him.

Professor Huang’s full name was Huang Huan, courtesy name Yanzhou. As a youth, he was bright and studious, versed in classics and history, and valued integrity. He had earned his reputation through local recommendations and now served as Senior of Lingshan County Academy.

Huang Huan was somewhat rigid—rigid to the point of inflexibility, stubbornly adhering to principles and rarely swayed by others.

Sure enough, Huang Huan shook his head and replied, “Ignorance of propriety is one reason. But mainly, did you not see the two servants, one large and one small, at his side? How can such a person study the teachings of sages? Poverty? Would a poor family have servants?”

In fact, it wasn’t unusual for students from well-off families to bring servants. But Bean Sprout was so young, yet Li Sanjian commanded her—such conduct was utterly distasteful to Huang Huan.