Chapter 101: Reversing Reputation

Huang Wenxian was only thirty years old, his appearance bearing the characteristic fair and refined beauty typical of Chengdu natives, with a long, flowing five-sectioned beard.

Since ancient times, those who became renowned scholars and great Confucian masters were invariably men of exceptional talent and vast learning, and Huang Wenxian was no exception.

Yesterday, he had just accepted five new disciples, all prodigious young talents from various counties around Chengdu, each remarkably intelligent. After examining them thoroughly throughout the afternoon, he was greatly pleased.

Early this morning, the sky had cleared once more. The bright, radiant sunlight cast a dazzling whiteness over the land. The peach blossoms and pear flowers that had bloomed everywhere recently had now vanished without a trace, leaving only the intertwining branches of thick and pale green leaves.

Savoring this once-a-year glimpse of spring’s beauty, Huang Wenxian was in excellent spirits. Sitting in his ox cart, he stroked his long beard thoughtfully, recalling the poem he had composed the night before.

The ox cart rumbled along the often damp spring road, the creaking and jolting causing a somewhat teeth-grating, rough sensation. As the cart gradually entered the bustling city center, Huang Wenxian lifted the curtain to admire the flowing crowds.

Just as he was enjoying the lively scene, his eyes narrowed suddenly, his gaze involuntarily drawn to a young woman approaching ever closer.

She wore a fine red silk garment embroidered with plum blossoms, her long black hair held up by a single wooden hairpin, adorned with scarcely any jewelry. Yet Huang Wenxian felt that this pale-skinned, stern-featured young maiden exuded a rare and exquisite charm.

This kind of charm was not the fleeting allure found in the flower streets and brothels but belonged exclusively to literati, poets, and refined gentlemen.

Such a delicate and graceful maiden possessing such elegance was truly captivating.

After stealing a few glances, then closing his eyes to rest, Huang Wenxian opened them once more to find the maiden was, in fact, walking directly toward him.

The closer she came, the more her features resembled a landscape painting’s subtle grace.

Just as Huang Wenxian lowered his head to scrutinize her approach, the beautifully dressed and poised woman suddenly stopped right in front of his ox cart.

Under the gaze of the gathering crowd, she stood before the cart and, with a gentle bow, spoke in a clear, crisp voice: “I have long heard that Master Huang is a learned and distinguished scholar. I am but an unworthy woman—I humbly ask, Master Huang, how should one interpret the phrase, ‘Strike down the ringleaders; the coerced and misguided should not be punished; those long tainted by vulgar customs should all be given a chance to renew themselves’? I have pondered it for some time but cannot grasp its meaning.”

Her voice was pure and cool, like a mountain spring flowing over ice—indescribably beautiful.

The people of Chengdu naturally loved lively scenes, and seeing such a rare beauty stopping a famous scholar for a discussion, their spirits lifted. Before the maiden’s words had even fully fallen, dozens had already gathered around.

Huang Wenxian himself enjoyed the bustle. To be stopped on a busy street by a beauty for a scholarly inquiry was, for a man of letters, a delightful event. Stroking his long beard and squinting slightly, he answered, “Ah, this phrase means: one must punish the chief offenders, but those who were coerced or led astray into wrongdoing may be lightly punished or pardoned; those long accustomed to bad habits but without evil intent should be given a chance to reform.”

“I see,” the maiden responded readily. Tilting her head adorably in thought for a moment, she asked again, “‘Forgiving great faults is no small matter, punishing intentional offenses is no minor thing’—how should this be understood?”

Master Huang raised his voice slightly, his tone kind and patient: “This means that even a great mistake committed once may be forgiven, but deliberate wrongdoing, no matter how small, must be punished.”

“And what of ‘To know people is wisdom’?” The maiden’s eyes, like black gems, blinked as she continued.

Huang Wenxian replied solemnly, “This means one must have discernment in judging others. You must understand that people are complex, so to recognize who is good, who is bad; who is talented and who is mediocre—that is the mark of a wise person.”

He answered with great patience and detail.

The maiden seemed to understand. Tilting her head, she looked at Huang Wenxian with a clear and bright gaze, saying sweetly, “Master Huang’s meaning is clear to me. The sage’s intention is that unless one has thoroughly understood whether a person truly committed a fault, one should not condemn them outright, destroying their chance for redemption.”

“Exactly so,” Huang Wenxian replied decisively.

A flicker gleamed in the maiden’s dark eyes as she added, “Does the sage also mean that to discern whether a person is good or bad, or whether their conduct is improper, one cannot rely solely on rumors, nor on the words of a single individual, is that correct?”

“Indeed,” Huang Wenxian answered promptly.

The maiden stepped back respectfully and, bowing gracefully, said slowly, “Thank you, Master Huang, for your guidance. My surname is Lu, and I have a younger brother named Yun. He has long admired you and asked me to seek your counsel on these phrases.” She spoke deliberately, allowing Huang Wenxian to savor her words fully.

At last, Huang Wenxian came back to himself.

He gazed intently at the maiden before him.

Upon closer inspection, he suddenly realized she bore a striking resemblance to the student from Hanyang who had come to apprentice yesterday.

That student’s surname was also Lu...

This young woman said she was here on behalf of her brother Lu Yun. The very student Huang had dismissed yesterday was named Lu Yun.

In an instant, Huang Wenxian understood her true purpose.

Indeed, though her three questions seemed to seek clarification, they were in truth a subtle rebuke—accusing him of hastily condemning someone without knowing the full story, relying solely on partial hearsay to deny that person’s character and ruin their future.

Viewed narrowly, this matter was merely Huang’s reprimand of a wayward junior; viewed broadly, it revealed his failure to distinguish right from wrong, to discern character, to judge matters clearly. He had condemned a man without fully understanding the facts, thus failing to embody the sage’s spirit of forgiveness.

Huang Wenxian was a shrewd and decisive man. He nodded solemnly and said, “Young lady, your words are most just. Tell your brother to come to my residence tomorrow.”

He gestured to a servant beside him.

The servant took a wooden token—an invitation—and handed it to Lu Ying. With a soft command, Huang Wenxian’s ox cart passed by Lu Ying and slowly moved away.

As the cart passed her, Huang Wenxian glanced back and silently thought: This young woman is truly exceptionally clever.

With his own intellect, he knew well that, had she not been so splendidly dressed and publicly blocked his cart, he would not have been so patient or interested in discussing the words of the sages.

Yet every phrase she spoke was a veiled admonition directed at himself. She was telling him he had been deceived, had trusted the words of slanderers, and as a great scholar of the age, he should give others a path forward—especially since he had not even investigated the matter thoroughly.

Most importantly, her subtle hints awakened him without wounding his dignity or arousing suspicion among onlookers, avoiding any gossip.

Truly a woman of exceptional wisdom.

Unconsciously, Huang Wenxian found himself developing a favorable impression of Lu Yun as well.

Lu Ying watched Huang Wenxian depart, then turned to head home.

She felt weary. To learn more about Huang Wenxian, she had spent over ten iron coins.

By evening, Lu Yun returned.

Upon seeing the courtyard, he hung his head low.

Lu Ying glanced at him but said nothing, nor did she try to comfort him.

Busy preparing dinner and boiling water, she worked quietly until Lu Yun, who had been waiting for her to ask, finally spoke with grievance, “Sister, they’re all talking about me.”

Pouting, Lu Yun was nearly in tears. “Some even cursed me… pushed me…”

Lu Ying turned to him.

In the sunset’s glow, her gaze carried a chill, which stunned the tearful, despondent Lu Yun into silence. Fixing her eyes on him, she asked calmly, “What does ‘A true man can endure and adapt’ mean?”

Lu Yun lowered his head, quietly wiping away tears from the corner of his eyes.

Then Lu Ying asked, “Why did Han Xin endure the humiliation beneath the horse? Why didn’t he weep bitterly or hide away to wallow in self-pity?”

Lu Yun’s head drooped even lower.

Lu Ying stared at him, then softened her tone, “Do you understand where you went wrong?”

Lu Yun kept his head bowed a long while before whispering, “Sister, I… I am a man, a true man. I won’t cry or sulk anymore.”

Lu Ying acknowledged with a sound and took out the wooden token, handing it to Lu Yun. “Master Huang said to come to his residence tomorrow.”

“What?”

Lu Yun quickly raised his head, disbelief in his eyes as he stared at his sister. Slowly, a smile grew on his lips. He wiped away tears with the sleeve of his robe, cheeks flushed with shame. “Sister, I… I promise I won’t do it again.”

Lu Ying gave a short sound of approval and continued, “When you go to Master Huang’s residence tomorrow, walk in confidently—the more people who see you, the better. When you leave, make sure Master Huang’s steward escorts you out. Remember, whether you provoke, negotiate, or offend Master Huang, you must ensure his steward or personal servant sends you off courteously.”

Looking at Lu Yun, she explained, “This way, those who slandered you will understand that Master Huang intends to retract his words from yesterday and that his attitude toward you has changed.” Of course, if Huang Wenxian were willing to apologize publicly, that would be best, but Lu Ying suspected that would be difficult.

Seeing Lu Yun nod, Lu Ying added, “If possible, try to test Master Huang to find out who is scheming against you.” Though she doubted this would be easy, knowing Lu Yun would feel constrained and fearful in front of the great scholar and was not skilled at probing. Still, she would push him to try.

Lu Yun nodded again.

Watching her unusually obedient brother, Lu Ying arranged the dishes while saying, “First, eat. I’ve already found another great scholar to be your teacher.”

At this, Lu Yun looked at his sister dumbfounded. He wondered: Sister said she found a great scholar? Where did she have the connections and influence to secure such a teacher, let alone one who would accept him as a disciple?

So many scholars had come to Chengdu recently, all eager to become disciples of a great master, yet everyone knew how difficult that was. Moreover, Lu Yun had been scolded by Master Huang himself—he didn’t even need to imagine how impossible it would be. Sister spoke so confidently—could it be? Could she be trying to use some noble patron?

As these thoughts crossed his mind, Lu Yun’s eyes widened, and he thought: Could sister be seeking help from that noble?

As the month drew to a close, I humbly request pink votes. Please help Feng Yue reach second place on the new book fan rankings. I have noted the chapter I owe you all from yesterday and will repay it in due time. Thank you.