Chapter Twenty-Two: Becoming a Novelist (Part One)

Who was Yan Zhou?

Zheng Yanqing found the name familiar, yet could not recall exactly who it was. In truth, Zheng Shian had once mentioned the name Yan Shigu to him, but he had not paid it any mind. Had Yan Shigu introduced himself by that name, Zheng Yanqing would certainly have recognized him at once. But since he called himself Yan Zhou, Yanqing was left confused.

While Zheng Yanqing was bewildered, Zheng Shian had already recognized Yan Shigu. He had seen Yan Shigu once before, in the ancestral hall of the old residence. At that time, Yan Shigu had said little, but based on the respect and address Zheng Renji showed him, Zheng Shian could surmise his identity. Now that Yan Shigu had announced his name, how could Zheng Shian remain composed? Back then, he had done everything in his power to have Yanqing become Yan Shigu’s disciple. Now Yan Shigu had come to their door, and yet Yanqing showed no reaction—how could Zheng Shian not be anxious?

“Yanqing, this is Master Yan, who instructs the young lord. Are you not going to greet him properly?”

As the saying goes, one’s own child is always best in one’s eyes.

Though Zheng Shian and Zheng Yanqing were grandfather and grandson in name only, with no blood relation, Zheng Shian regarded Yanqing as dearer than a grandson of his own flesh. The events at the academy today left Zheng Shian uneasy. Even if Yanqing said that Master Li Ji meant well, Zheng Shian believed that Li Ji was deliberately making things difficult for him.

And who was this Li Ji anyway? He had no reputation, no one had even heard of him. If he came from a distinguished family, why would he take up the lowly post of a private tutor?

What skills could such a man possibly possess? Yet he had given Yanqing the lowest possible assessment...

Yanqing, after all, had written poetry and invented a unique calligraphic style. Even Master Sun Simiao thought highly of him. Who was Li Ji to judge him? Clearly, it was intentional—seeing that his own grandson excelled, he must have wanted to make things difficult.

Those who suffer physical impairments are often even more sensitive than others.

Never would Zheng Yanqing have imagined that a passing remark could provoke so many suspicions in Zheng Shian’s mind.

Moreover, Zheng Shian was convinced that Yan Shigu had come uninvited because he had recognized his grandson’s talent.

If Yanqing could become Yan Shigu’s disciple, he would study alongside the young lord. In the future, within Anyuan Hall, Yanqing would surely establish a firm footing.

Yet Zheng Yanqing sensed that Yan Shigu’s intentions were far from kind.

From the very first words, his tone was lofty and interrogative, leaving a most unpleasant impression.

Perhaps, this was the habit of celebrated scholars of the day. Yan Shigu, after all, hailed from a prominent family; his grandfather Yan Zhitui was a famed scholar of Northern Qi, and his father Yan Silu also enjoyed considerable reputation. Yet Zheng Yanqing knew little of Yan Shigu himself; it was not Yan Shigu, but rather his great-nephew, the illustrious creator of the Yan style of calligraphy and renowned minister of late Tang, Yan Zhenqing, whom Yanqing truly knew of.

Therefore, when Zheng Shian anxiously urged him to pay his respects, Zheng Yanqing lifted his head high, meeting Yan Shigu’s gaze without fear.

Since you have come looking for trouble, I won’t be polite!

Indeed, Yan Shigu had come to make things difficult for Zheng Yanqing. The day before, while teaching Zheng Hongyi, the boy had suddenly brought up the Oath of the Peach Garden. Listening closely, Yan Shigu flew into a rage.

Who dared act with such audacity? To so thoroughly distort the Records of the Three Kingdoms, and even spread such tales everywhere?

Yan Shigu was renowned for his expertise in the classics and histories, with special mastery of the Book of Han, though he was no stranger to the Records of the Three Kingdoms either.

He thought those who fabricated such stories deserved the severest of punishments.

After inquiring into the matter, Yan Shigu stormed over to demand an explanation. Yet, recognizing that the storyteller seemed well-versed in the Three Kingdoms, he refrained from telling Zheng Renji at once. With the intent of correcting errors and guiding the misguided, he sought out Zheng Yanqing’s residence. As it happened, at that very moment, Zheng Yanqing and Zheng Shian were discussing ghosts and spirits inside. Yan Shigu, upon hearing their exchange, found it rather agreeable, for his grandfather, in the Yan family precepts, had shown great aversion to talk of gods and spirits. Naturally, Yan Shigu himself detested superstition and imposture. Yanqing’s views suited him well enough.

If this child truly had talent, perhaps he might even persuade Zheng Renji to accept Zheng Yanqing as a student.

Yet, the young man’s air of aristocratic pride put Yanqing on edge at the very outset.

Yanqing’s stubbornness quickly irritated Yan Shigu.

“Indeed, those of humble status know nothing of proper manners,” he thought.

Meanwhile, Zheng Shian was beside himself with worry. His usually obedient grandson—what was wrong with him today? Yan Shigu had come in person—an opportunity of a lifetime! How could Yanqing be so disrespectful, risking the displeasure of Master Yan?

“Master Yan, my grandson—”

“Grandfather, please don’t speak,” Zheng Yanqing interjected. “Master Yan, you just accused me of distorting the history of the Three Kingdoms. What exactly do you mean by that?”

Yan Shigu snorted coldly. “What do I mean? I wonder if you’ve ever read the Three Kingdoms at all, to so recklessly fabricate its stories...”

Zheng Yanqing immediately pressed, “May I ask, Master, what is meant by ‘story’?”

Yan Shigu paused. “‘Story’ naturally refers to events of the past... As it says in the Book of Lord Shang, ‘To know agriculture, one must not depart from its story, and then reform is sure to succeed.’ The Grand Historian also said, ‘What I recount as story is to organize the traditions of the ages.’ Thus, ‘story’ is simply a matter of old affairs.”

In the matter of quoting the classics, Zheng Yanqing could not match Yan Shigu.

In later generations, scholarship focused increasingly on Western learning, as the winds from the West swept eastward, and traditional culture became the preserve of a select few. Worse yet, many peddled fakes under a reputable name; distortion and misrepresentation abounded.

Zheng Yanqing truly had little grounding in the classics and histories.

Story, story... but what exactly did it mean? He could not say for certain.

Yet he would not admit defeat, and persisted, “What you say, Master, is not without reason, but I cannot fully agree.

“In my humble view, a story is humanity’s way of remembering history, a process of transmitting and preserving certain traditions through various means, thereby shaping the character of a society. I believe that stories themselves are not the issue; they serve to elucidate the meaning behind events through narration. Ultimately, stories are indeed about the past, but they might be true, or they might be imagined.”

Yan Shigu was momentarily stunned.

What was all this talk of social tradition and social character?

These were expressions unknown to the present age, and for a moment, Yan Shigu was at a loss. Yet, possessed of great learning, he quickly grasped the thrust of Zheng Yanqing’s argument.

In a flash, Yan Shigu was enraged. “How dare you, boy, impugn the words of the ancient sages?”

Was he accusing the sages of old of fabricating lies?

Yanqing replied with a cold smile, “What is truth, and what is falsehood?”

“If it is recorded in history, then it must be true.”

“Then may I ask, Master, what evidence is there for the Book of Documents? Who witnessed the deeds of the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors? We speak of Yao, Shun, Yu, and Tang, but before the Book of Documents, why are there no written records of them? If not for oral transmission, how could the deeds of so many sages have reached us? By your logic, Master, would that not mean Yao, Shun, Yu, and Tang were all invented?”

“Ah, well—”

Yan Shigu opened his mouth, but could find no reply.