Chapter 12: The Return of the Pope
(Today is Xu Yourong’s birthday, and also the birthday of a friend of mine. The two chapters about severing hands written the day before yesterday were dedicated to them and to all of you.)
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The National Teaching Academy was one of the Six Ivy Academies, with an extremely long history, having once flourished brilliantly in the capital.
Over twenty years ago, a bloody incident occurred at the National Teaching Academy, where countless teachers and students met tragic deaths. After that, the academy turned into a graveyard, gradually forgotten by all. Even those citizens of the capital who still remembered it dared not speak of it.
It wasn’t until Chen Changsheng arrived in the capital from Xining Town that the National Teaching Academy reappeared before the world.
Then came the upheaval at the Heavenly Book Mausoleum.
Now, the status of the National Teaching Academy was very special.
Whether it was the imperial court or the Papal Palace, both placed great importance on the academy.
Various resources kept flowing into the depths of Hundred Flowers Lane.
In just three short years, the National Teaching Academy had already restored its former glory, its status faintly surpassing the other Ivy Academies, nearly on par with the Heavenly Dao Academy. Otherwise, why would those teachers and students who had once fled expend so much effort to return?
History has always been written by the victors, and glory belongs only to the one who stands at the highest point of the Heavenly Book Mausoleum.
The National Teaching Academy was reborn and regained its radiance because of Chen Changsheng’s appearance. He still concurrently served as its dean. But in many people’s eyes, the academy remained Shang Xingzhou’s National Teaching Academy.
The splendor of the National Teaching Academy during the Grand Examination and at the Heavenly Book Mausoleum was also attributed by many to Shang Xingzhou.
Because Shang Xingzhou was the most important and influential dean in the academy’s history.
And Chen Changsheng was his student.
From his arrival in the capital from Xining to his enrollment at the National Teaching Academy, all of these events were arranged by Shang Xingzhou.
This was a very clear line of succession.
The imperial literati at court had written countless flowery essays about it.
The Religious Affairs Bureau had once planned to erect a stele outside the academy gates to record this history.
For the old faction of the State Religion, this was merely a matter of restoring order and clarifying origins.
But for the National Teaching Academy, this was undoubtedly an encroachment.
If it weren’t for Su Moyu’s steadfast persistence, if it weren’t for the Papal Palace’s constant vigilance, if it weren’t for Mao Qiuyu exerting some suppression on the Religious Affairs Bureau before entering seclusion, perhaps the traces Chen Changsheng had left in the National Teaching Academy would have long been cleansed.
At this moment, Chen Changsheng returned to the capital.
The hand that the Religious Affairs Bureau had extended toward the National Teaching Academy was calmly severed by Xu Yourong.
Tang Thirty-Six issued a declaration to the entire capital and even the whole continent.
This declaration was extremely forceful, like a clap of thunder exploding in the wind and snow, rapidly spreading to every corner of the capital.
The current National Teaching Academy made the most resolute break from the old one.
Upon hearing this news, the moderates who had hoped for a reconciliation between Shang Xingzhou and Chen Changsheng felt deeply disappointed. The ambitious schemers who wished for their confrontation to continue, even hoping to profit from it, were also shocked.
Because the attitude displayed by the National Teaching Academy was too decisive.
This could be condemned as a lack of respect for one’s teacher, or even more severely, as betraying one’s master and ancestors.
But who was Tang Thirty-Six?
During his months in the ancestral hall, he had very seriously crafted a venomous and cold-blooded plan—to overthrow the entire Tang family.
He simply didn’t care about this.
As for whether he could make decisions for the National Teaching Academy or for Chen Changsheng, that was another question.
More people believed that this was originally Chen Changsheng’s intention.
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Chen Changsheng didn’t know that after he left the National Teaching Academy, Tang Thirty-Six would say those words. Nor did he have any such intention, because he had never thought about whether the academy belonged to him or his teacher, or what impact that had on the current situation.
But after learning about it, he wasn’t surprised, let alone opposed.
He and Tang Thirty-Six hadn’t discussed it beforehand, but over the past few years, they had talked countless times by the lake and atop the banyan tree, discussing the future endlessly. And in those visions of the future, the National Teaching Academy was always present.
Moreover, he knew that Tang Thirty-Six was helping him make a choice.
Xu Yourong killing that Bishop Meichuan at the National Teaching Academy was also helping him make a choice.
Making choices was the most difficult thing in the world, and sometimes the most painful.
Xu Yourong and Tang Thirty-Six were the people closest to him under this starry sky.
They knew his thoughts and wanted to share that pain with him.
But thinking about what Mo Yu had said last night, Chen Changsheng felt touched yet also somewhat melancholy.
Melancholy often affects one’s appetite.
The dishes on the plate looked and smelled delicious, but seemed to have lost their flavor.
He put down his chopsticks.
“Is this flower-kiss mushroom not well made?”
A beautiful woman looked at him nervously and asked, “There’s a bowl of green jade ball soup in the back kitchen. Would you like to try it?”
Xue Yejin’s expression was also tense.
That woman was Xue Xingchuan’s eldest daughter, Xue Yejin’s older sister.
After Xue Xingchuan died, she was beaten by her husband, Vice Minister Wei, who coveted wealth and glory, and then divorced and sent back to the Xue residence.
Then, on that day when wind and snow shrouded the long street, that Vice Minister Wei had his head chopped off by Wang Po and Chen Changsheng with a single blade.
In recent years, she had been living at the Xue residence, her former pamperedness long gone—this could be seen from the plain cloth clothes she wore and the thin calluses on her fingers.
Such changes, if noticed by certain people, might evoke sighs and bitterness, but they made Chen Changsheng somewhat happy.
He liked people who lived earnestly, people who wouldn’t become gloomy no matter the circumstances.
“It’s very delicious,” he said seriously. “The soup is also very good. It’s just that there are many things happening today, and I tend to get distracted.”
Hearing this, Miss Xue and Xue Yejin both smiled.
Xue’s wife didn’t smile. She knew what had happened at the National Teaching Academy and also knew that Chen Changsheng would inevitably face many troubles upon returning to the capital. She said uneasily, “You must have so many important matters to handle. You really didn’t need to come see us. I feel terrible about it.”
“There are indeed quite a few matters.”
Chen Changsheng glanced at the sky, then stood up to take his leave.
The three members of the Xue family dared not detain him and quickly saw him off.
The old steward and a maidservant were waiting respectfully at the front gate.
These were the only servants left in the Xue residence now. Including the three Xue family members, they only occupied the smallest courtyard on the east side of the estate.
The imperial court had never issued an explicit decree to reclaim the Xue family’s mansion, but several princes had been eyeing this place.
Chen Changsheng looked at the more than ten princely mansions lining both sides of the street, thinking about these matters.
As night gradually fell, those princely mansions, for some reason, still had their gates open.
Light spilled out from within, falling on the swirling snowy blossoms, like rolling golden sparks—very beautiful.
Chen Changsheng walked into the wind and snow.
He had heard from Zhexiu and Mo Yu that Zhou Tong had once crawled past this very spot.
That night, no matter how miserably Zhou Tong wailed and begged, no one in these princely mansions came out to save him.
Even though he was no longer the dog of Empress Tianhai, but the dog of Shang Xingzhou.
Now, the entire capital should already know that he had entered the Xue residence, and naturally, those princes knew it too.
Would those princes do anything?
No one came out. There was no sound.
The street in the wind and snow was utterly silent, perfectly peaceful.
Passing the brightly lit princely mansions, they reached the ordinary streets and alleys.
On both sides of the streets and alleys, crowds of people were gathered, a dense, dark mass.
The citizens of the capital were all followers of the State Religion. Seeing his figure, they quickly knelt down, like a surging tide.
No priests were nearby, no guardian cavalry, no attendants, no divine chariot.
He walked forward alone.
Wherever he walked, the people there would kneel, devoutly offering prayers and blessings.
The dark, surging tide kept washing forward along the street, until it submerged those famous stone pillars.
Chen Changsheng stood before the stone pillars, looking at that majestic, magnificent, sacred, and solemn complex of palaces, wondering what he was thinking.
Suddenly, bells rang from deep within the palace complex.
Because the Pope had returned. (To be continued.)