Inside the Imperial College was a lake that lay flat like a silver mirror.
Named Mo Yan Lake for its resemblance to an inkstone.
There was an ancient pavilion by the lake, with a plaque that read Washing Ink Pavilion—said to be the handwriting of the current State Preceptor.
This lake and this pavilion were bustling places where the scholars of the Imperial College would recite poetry and engage in repartee during their leisure time.
However, at this moment it was class time at the Imperial College.
There were very few visitors by the lake.
Yet, inside the Washing Ink Pavilion, two were engaged in a game of Go.
The one holding the black pieces was a middle-aged Confucian Scholar with a thin face and bright, spirited eyes. He flipped a black piece between his fingers.
The one with the white pieces was an elderly man in luxurious clothing, quite corpulent, with a focused expression. He was currently peering down at the Go board, hesitant to make a move.
All of a sudden, the middle-aged Confucian Scholar glanced outside the pavilion, where he saw a figure striding in their direction from not far away.
Clad in a blue robe and carrying an oiled paper umbrella, the newcomer had a jade pendant hanging at his waist. With well-proportioned features and appearing quite young, he had a calm demeanor and an air of transcendence about him.
The corner of the middle-aged Confucian Scholar's mouth lifted as he turned his gaze back to the board. The overall situation was set, and the white pieces had no chance of turning the tide.
The elderly gentleman in luxurious clothes seemed to have also noticed something but did not immediately surrender the game. Instead, he continued to play, his expression even more concentrated.
...
Zhao Rong hadn't found Teacher Fang in the Six Halls of the Imperial College, so he guessed that Teacher probably was playing Go at the Washing Ink Pavilion again.
In his memory, Teacher cherished three things in life: fishing, Go, and the Saintly Books.
Now seeing Teacher Fang indeed playing Go with someone at the Washing Ink Pavilion, Zhao Rong smiled knowingly.
Teacher Fang had several regular Go partners, and this elder in luxurious clothes was one of them, though Zhao Rong had never spoken to him, and even with Teacher Fang, he seldom spoke.
Zhao Rong leaned his umbrella against a column and stepped into the pavilion.
The two inside the pavilion did not turn around at the arrival of someone nearby, continuing their game instead.
Zhao Rong took it in stride, obviously used to it.
He stood behind Teacher Fang, glancing over the Go board.
Teacher Fang made his moves quickly, while the man in luxurious clothes pondered for a while before each move.
Soon, he lost interest and turned to appreciate the scenery of the lake outside the pavilion.
He had no interest in Go, only knowing a bit about it; he was a terrible player.
In his memory, Teacher Fang had wanted to teach him Go, but his previous self, like him, had no interest in it and had learned only a rudimentary understanding.
Waiting bored, Zhao Rong tried to summon Gui silently in his mind a few times.
Ever since the last time he had upset it, it had not spoken to him.
After silently calling a few times and getting no response, Zhao Rong gave up.
He didn't know if it was sleeping or just ignoring him.
Acting like a child, Zhao Rong criticized to himself.
Before long, in the pavilion, with the final decisive move played by Teacher Fang, the outcome was decided.
The elder in luxurious clothes threw his white piece back into the container, his expression as usual.
"Brother Gongming, thank you for going easy," said Teacher Fang with a smile. Then he turned to look at Zhao Rong beside him, studying him intently.
"Not bad, you've matured a lot after getting married," Teacher Fang said with a light laugh.
"Teacher jests," Zhao Rong replied hastily, trying to fit into the role of a student from his memories.
"Ziyu, it's good that you came today. I've got some great news to tell you," said Teacher Fang as he took out a bundle of letters from his bosom.
"A few days ago, the State Preceptor asked the Sacrificial Officer to send a letter for him to his younger brother at Linlu Academy. Knowing your admiration for the seventy-two academies, I asked the Sacrificial Officer for this task."
"Linlu Academy?"
Upon hearing the name "Linlu," Zhao Rong's eyes lit up.
He knew that there were two Confucian Academies in Wangque Continent, Linlu and Siqi, renowned in Yizhou and the dream of scholars down the mountain, although he didn't know their exact locations.
But then he remembered the purpose of his visit today and asked, "Where is the academy located?"
"Linlu Academy is in the Great Li Dynasty," Teacher Fang paused, adding, "Great Li is at the northernmost part of Yizhou."
Zhao Rong's face showed disappointment, and he bowed.
"I am afraid I won't be able to go," he said.
"Why is that?"
"Because the reason for my visit this time is to bid farewell to Teacher."
"Where are you going?"
"In a few days, I plan to head south to visit my family in my hometown, and I won't be returning for a short while."
Teacher Fang pondered for a moment, then put away the letters.
The elegantly dressed elder, who had been sitting aside, replaying the chess game with his head lowered, glanced up at Zhao Rong and then directed his gaze back to the chessboard, continuing his focus on the game.
"Just you alone?"
"Just myself."
"When will you leave?"
"In a few days, once I've dealt with some miscellaneous matters."
"And what about your wife?"
"… She has her own destination, and there's no need for me to worry about her."
Teacher Fang nodded and asked no more questions.
He stood up, took out a jade seal he had prepared for a long time, and handed it to Zhao Rong.
"This is a personal seal I've carved. I originally wanted to give it to you after your coming-of-age ceremony, but it seems now that I may not have the chance to wait until then."
Zhao Rong accepted the seal, which was exquisitely made with strict proportions and graceful strokes. At a glance, the seal's script was neatly square and upright, yet it carried not a trace of stiffness; the character "YU" was engraved in seal script on its face.
Zhao Rong received it earnestly, bowing deeply.
During his years at the Imperial College, even though his original self had a liking for Confucianism, he lacked talent and was slow to comprehend, and although his studies were solid, he did not stand out among others. Perhaps because Teacher Fang had watched him grow up, he had always treated him as his closest disciple.
In academic affairs, Teacher Fang was very strict with Zhao Rong, but in private, he was exceptionally kind, and their relationship was very close.
Teacher Fang smiled and patted the student's shoulder, imparting a parting admonition, "When spring comes next year, do not be the one who has not returned."
Zhao Rong nodded, took his leave, and departed.
After he had walked a significant distance, he suddenly looked back.
He saw Teacher Fang still standing there, watching his departing student.
"You had me write a letter for the purpose of helping your student... chase a woman?"
Teacher Fang smiled and sat down again, not answering the question of the State Preceptor of Great Chu sitting beside him.
He began to tidy up the chessboard.
"It's been seventeen years. What is it that Teacher is waiting for?" the elegantly dressed elder asked again.
The middle-aged Confucian Scholar, having placed the last black piece back into the chess jar, slowly said.
"Waiting for an 'old friend'."
…
Zhao Rong left the Imperial College and was ready to make his way home, but considering there was still time, he wandered around the Confucius Temple.
The Confucius Temple was initially built and flourished around the Imperial College, and besides food, what it sold the most was naturally paper, ink, brushes, inkstones, and books and manuscripts.
Zhao Rong saw there was a rather large bookstore ahead with good business, so he walked toward it.
He wanted to buy a few calligraphy models to practice with.
"You're really leaving?"
Suddenly, Gui's voice echoed in his mind.
"Huh, the mute finally speaks?"
"Screw off!"
Zhao Rong allowed himself a small smile, dispersing some of the melancholy that had settled during his farewell with his teacher.
For some reason, every time he talked with Gui, he felt extremely relaxed.
Perhaps because they shared each other's fortunes and disasters, he could be himself and speak his mind freely in front of it?
"Gui, do you know about the Taiching Four Mansions? Is this Immortal Sect very powerful?"
He had wanted to ask this question since yesterday.
"The Taiching Four Mansions are not an Immortal Sect."
Gui sneered and slowly explained.
"The Taiching Four Mansions is the highest cultivation academy in the Xuanhuang Realm, written into the Human Clan's Supreme Law, the 'Xuan Emperor's Law,' by Jiang Taiching."
"Every continent has one, and they only recruit the most exceptional talents with the highest aptitude for cultivation from their respective continents. Reaching 'Perfection' in the Fu Yao Realm by sixteen is just one of the minimum criteria. Not to mention the standards for graduating from it. Nearly every session sees a wave of Residence Students unable to graduate smoothly, becoming 'Abandoned Students'."
"You can think of it as an institution established by gathering resources from all continents of the Human Clan; it does not belong to any group or power."
"It belongs only to the entire Xuanhuang Human Clan!"