Chapter 47: The Hawthorn Mountain, The Lotus Lake (Part 3)

If Longhu Mountain is the celestial abode of immortals, then the Shangyin Academy is the city of sages.

With the end of the Nine Kingdoms’ War of the Spring and Autumn Era, the once-thriving contention of a hundred schools of thought has faded, yet the noble tradition of scholarly equality and intellectual freedom remains. Generally speaking, the grand halls of Shangyin Academy are open to all, its books accessible to every scholar—save for the Grove of Merit, reserved solely for the Academy’s Grand Chancellor. However, over the centuries, certain unwritten rules have taken root. These customs were not established by past chancellors but rather emerged from the reverence students held for particularly illustrious scholars.

For instance, the academy boasts the Great Meaning Lake, adorned with countless green lotuses. The water is shallow, no deeper than two men’s height, crystal clear to the bottom. The roots and stems of the lotuses are visible, and boating upon it feels like sailing through the heavens—a scene straight out of a fairyland.

Most students dare not venture onto the lake for leisure, for two reasons: first, it is the very place where Huang Longshi made his name; second, a certain woman resides in a pavilion by its shore.

For the past five or six years, this woman has single-handedly overshadowed the entire academy.

When she first arrived to study, her noble lineage granted her immediate tutelage under Grand Chancellor Wang and a leading strategist of the Military School. Both masters imparted their knowledge without reserve. Some, resentful of her privilege, came to the Great Meaning Lake to provoke her. Without a word of debate, this sword-bearing woman simply drew her blade and severed the topknot of the leading challenger. When a second, larger group came to confront her, she killed one outright. Though she was subsequently confined within the academy, no one dared challenge her again—this unremarkable-looking woman was, after all, a killer. Later, she devised the “Nineteen Paths of Strategy,” which spread far and wide.

Then came her critiques of the literary giants of the age, and her ten legendary matches on the Great Meaning Lake, which earned her equal parts praise and scorn. In recent years, many scholars from across the kingdoms have come to Shangyin Academy solely for her. No matter how much infamy she attracts, the undeniable truth is this: how many in this world are even worthy of her criticism? Few indeed.

While scholars outside the academy hurl the fiercest insults, the young man who faced her in those ten matches saw through it all: those who curse the loudest would be the first to bend like reeds in the wind if they ever stood before her.

The pavilion by the Great Meaning Lake bears no trace of aristocratic grandeur. Built by the academy’s craftsmen, it is ingenious and unorthodox. Outside, chickens and ducks roam among vegetable patches—practical, not ornamental, far removed from the elegance of raising geese, cranes, or cultivating chrysanthemums and plum blossoms. Such is Xu Weixiong.

Today, after attending lectures and eating a self-sufficient lunch, Xu Weixiong resumed writing her *Admonitory Thousand-Character Classic*. She had begun it idly in the Northern Liang Manor, hoping to admonish her perpetually idle younger brother. When that proved futile, she set it aside. At Shangyin Academy, she picked it up again, adding insights intermittently. Over time, the text grew to over six hundred characters, its opening lines striking like thunder:

*”Human affairs follow patterns; Heaven’s way is never unjust. A family that gives more than it takes prospers for generations. A clan that accumulates virtue and kindness reaps rewards in a century. A kingdom that values its people over its ruler endures for millennia. Why do some perish young? Through shallow words, shallow deeds, shallow hearts—all things shallow. Why do some meet violent ends? Through hidden malice, secret sins, and dark deeds—all things shadowed…”*

Today, she wrote:

*”Why do some fall by the sword? The arrogant gentleman, the reckless villain. Why do some hang or drown? The man who leaps into danger, the woman who lords over others.”*

Pausing here, Xu Weixiong smirked and continued without hesitation:

*”Why do some die of sudden illness? Hollowed by lust. Why do some perish from festering sores? Bloated by gluttony.”*

But when she reached a passage unrelated to her concerns, she snorted coldly, pressing her brush down sharply—the final stroke of the character “grease” thick and heavy, brimming with edge.

Was she thinking of that vexing brother of hers?

Her mood soured. Setting down her brush, she left the pavilion, untied a lone boat, and rowed out onto the lake. Ripples spread across the vast water, where only she and her boat drifted. Were it not for the countless green lotuses, the scene would have been desolate.

Lying in the boat, she raised her wrist, where a single Go stone dangled from a string.

The stone was ordinary, made of pebble—fitting for Xu Weixiong’s tastes. Apart from the ancient sword *Red Python* at her back, she owned nothing extravagant. Her brushes and ink were the same as any scholar’s, her living conditions modest at best. Were it not for her talent and dominance securing her claim over the Great Meaning Lake, no one would guess she was a princess—and not just any princess, but one whose status surpassed even the daughters of kings.

Holding the stone up to the sunlight, she watched the halos of light ripple across its surface, entranced.

By the distant shore, two figures crouched furtively behind the lotuses, whispering.

One had a head lacking in bone structure, a sunken nose, and exposed gums—a face destined for an early grave. He fretted, “Little Junior Brother, are you really going to Senior Sister Xu? She *kills* people.”

The other, elegant and dashing, grinned carelessly. “Senior Brother Liu, look—she’s not carrying her sword today.”

The ill-fated Senior Brother Liu grew even more anxious. “Little Junior Brother, you haven’t been here long. Don’t upset Senior Sister Xu. On my first day, I saw her kill a man with that sword. When it was time to greet our masters and seniors, my legs gave out.”

The dashing junior brother teased, “Senior Brother Liu, which legs? Two or three?”

Senior Brother Liu, ever earnest, pondered seriously before answering gravely, “Three.”

The junior brother, a hundred times more handsome, chuckled. “Senior Brother, if I can board Senior Sister Xu’s boat, you’ll call *me* senior brother from now on, deal?”

Senior Brother Liu nodded without hesitation. “Deal.”

This junior brother was the same genius who had faced Xu Weixiong in the ten matches on the lake. Even when she switched from the standard nineteen-line Go board to a fifteen-line one, he hadn’t complained. Most would have been offended, but he was delighted—such was his eccentric nature. Reputation meant little to him; winning those matches was all that mattered. Had he succeeded, he’d have sworn off Go forever, leaving Xu Weixiong’s unbeatable legacy to only magnify his own.

Alas, he hadn’t won. But he was still happy—a draw was fine. It gave him reason to stay at the academy. To him, nothing in life was unworthy of joy.

Slipping into the water, he swam toward the boat like a fish.

Senior Brother Liu gaped, too stunned to recall that their bet had only covered success, not failure.

Such audacity!

None of their fellow disciples dared pester Senior Sister Xu like this.

Senior Brother Liu watched intently, ready to rescue if needed.

At the lake’s center, Xu Weixiong frowned, retracting her wrist. Instinctively reaching for *Red Python*, she found it absent. Instead, she yanked a lotus from its roots and, with lightning speed, speared the oversized “fish” straight to the lakebed.

When the waters stilled, she said flatly, “Don’t let it happen again.”

From behind the lotus leaves, Senior Brother Liu was more nervous than the two involved, fearing a bloody clash would erupt. The Great Meaning Lake was one of the academy’s few tranquil spots—elsewhere, scholars debated loudly, some even leaping from buildings, diving into water, or stripping to run naked. To Senior Brother Liu, a man of simple tastes, such antics were unbearable. He secretly relished seeing Senior Sister Xu put those unruly madmen in their place.

As for the mysterious junior brother, though they hadn’t interacted much, Senior Brother Liu liked this bold, brilliant youth.

Now, watching the junior brother swim back belly-up, leisurely floating as if his defeat were a victory, Senior Brother Liu could only shake his head.

Clambering ashore, the junior brother rubbed the bump on his forehead and laughed. “The Grand Chancellor once told me, ‘Only drowning dogs are allowed; carefree men are despised.’ What nonsense!”

Senior Brother Liu panicked. “Little Junior Brother, be careful with your words!”

Unfazed, the junior brother shook off most of the water and turned to gaze at the woman now stepping onto the shore. His admiration was naked, devoid of the usual fear and awe.

Senior Brother Liu fretted. “Little Junior Brother, you’ll catch a cold.”

Slinging an arm around his favorite senior brother’s shoulders, the junior brother grinned. “Senior Brother Liu, when shall we go to the capital and admire the moon from the highest hall in the imperial palace?”

Senior Brother Liu chuckled. “Impossible.”

Not “dare not,” just “impossible.”

The junior brother pressed on shamelessly. “The capital has the most connections. With your looks, marrying a princess or a noblewoman would be easy. I’ll play matchmaker. After the Moon-Viewing Pavilion, we’ll climb the Literary Glory Hall and the Hall of Preserving Harmony.”

Senior Brother Liu touched his face and nodded. “That *is* a path.”

Xu Weixiong returned to her pavilion alone, indifferent to the lake’s antics.

The young man’s origins were shrouded in mystery. She had agreed to the fifteen-line Go matches out of pride, not favor. When he bypassed the academy’s usual admissions to study under her, she grew wary.

Her sister, Xu Zhihu, could gallivant recklessly through the southern provinces, flaunting their father’s influence without consequence. But Xu Weixiong was no useless ornament. Every step she took was for the Xu family—no missteps allowed. Nor was she like her simple-minded younger brother, Xu Longxiang, who needed no such considerations.

She had hoped *someone* would prove worthy.

But instead of learning statecraft, strategy, or diplomacy, he had taken up the sword!

Could a single blade uphold the vast legacy of Northern Liang—its millions of households, its three hundred thousand iron cavalry, second only to the imperial throne itself?

Staring at the Go stone on her wrist, Xu Weixiong muttered, “You fool.”

The curse eased her mood briefly before tension returned. Tracing the stone with two fingers, she sneered. “More pride than an imperial prince.”

She recalled her father’s secret letter after investigating the junior brother:

*”His origins are untraceable. Only this is known: even Han Diaoshi, chief of the thirty thousand palace eunuchs, bows before him.”*