Chapter 90 – The Community School

Early the next morning, Zhan Changfeng made her way up the mountain path toward the community school, the crisp sound of children’s reading voices drifting through the forest from all directions — yet not a single child was to be seen.

Continuing upward, she arrived at a large courtyard. A plaque above the gate bore the inscription: Qingbai Mountain Community School. She explained her purpose to the gatekeeper, who then led her inside.

“Master Yangming has already given instructions. I’ll take you to the Hall of Classical Studies first to meet the teachers.”

Master Yangming was the school’s headmaster. Whenever his name was mentioned, the gatekeeper’s eyes shone with reverence.

Master Yangming was a middle-aged man with a pale, clean-shaven face. After the two exchanged greetings, he got straight to the point. “Qingbai Mountain welcomes all seekers of knowledge. Though you are enrolling as a free student, we must still administer a placement assessment to offer you proper academic guidance. What do you think?”

“I have no objections. However, there are a few things I’d like to state upfront. First, I am not from Cangyun Ravine, so my knowledge of this place’s history, culture, and geography is limited — that is precisely what I wish to supplement. Second, my primary purpose here is to study Spirit Speech.”

Master Yangming nodded. “You know your own mind. Very good. Then let’s set aside history and geography for now — I’ll give you some arithmetic and debate problems to gauge your foundation.”

“I’ve heard that the school has four levels of instruction: Class A, B, C, and D. Please assess me by Class A standards, Master Yangming.”

She was composed and self-assured, which made it genuinely difficult for Master Yangming to think of her as an ordinary student. The hand holding the Class C exam paper turned, and he slid a different one across the table instead. “The knowledge standard for Class A is aimed at those preparing for the Grand Examination. If you’d like to try, be my guest.”

The Grand Examination was a cultural assessment system in Cangyun Ravine, and also the means by which the Council of Elders selected its members. Since the Council oversaw the supervision and governance of Cangyun Ravine’s settlements, the Grand Examination carried enormous weight, drawing together the finest minds and most learned individuals.

The questions Master Yangming provided were naturally not on the level of the Grand Examination, but they were still quite deep — not something just anyone could answer.

Zhan Changfeng considered for a moment, then set her brush to paper. The strokes flowed like a dragon in flight, with the air of someone completing the task in a single sweep — a sight that made Master Yangming’s brow twitch.

He had deliberately set no time limit, intending to observe her true foundation. Though there were only two types of questions — arithmetic and debate — completing them all would take at least an hour and a half even for someone of considerable learning. Yet at her pace, half an hour would be more than enough.

And indeed, it didn’t even take half an hour. Master Yangming watched her set down her brush, then picked up the paper and examined it again in disbelief. After a long silence, he said, “Class A it is.”

Master Yangming unrolled a long scroll. “In addition to the mandatory foundational courses such as history, geography, and arithmetic, there are also several elective subjects — geomancy, physiognomy, martial techniques, and arcane arts, among others. However, since you are a free student rather than a disciple personally taken on by a teacher, you may listen and observe, but the instructors will not give you personal guidance. You should be aware of this.”

“I understand.”

Zhan Changfeng noted down the names of the instructors and what they taught from the scroll, then selected nine courses — including Spirit Speech — paying three thousand spirit stones in total.

After she had made her selections, Master Yangming continued. “The four levels of instruction are named respectively: Plum Gazing Lodge for Class A, Orchid Heart Pavilion for Class B, Bamboo Inquiry Tower for Class C, and Chrysanthemum Plucking House for Class D. The students of Plum Gazing Lodge have the deepest learning and are older — they focus solely on preparing for the Grand Examination. Chrysanthemum Plucking House, on the other hand, is for young children just beginning their education. Since you are new to Cangyun Ravine’s culture, I would ideally have you start from the very beginning, but Chrysanthemum Plucking House may be too juvenile for you, while Plum Gazing Lodge doesn’t teach foundational subjects. This poses a bit of a problem. What do you think would be best?”

“Then Orchid Heart Pavilion it is. Whatever I don’t know, I can catch up on.”

“Very well.”

Master Yangming then called for the history and literature instructor to escort her to Orchid Heart Pavilion.

Walking out of the Hall of Classical Studies, she was now officially a member of Qingbai Mountain.

In the hour following noon, the sun was at its most merciless. Green trees and blue-grey bricks were steeped in a blazing white light, and apart from the occasional cry of a cicada, the world was utterly silent.

The history and literature instructor introduced himself as Qin Huan. He offered Zhan Changfeng a few careful reminders about school rules and etiquette, then fell silent — seemingly vexed by the oppressive, inescapable heat.

They passed through the mountain path, turned along a red-wood corridor around the face of a cliff, and gradually the sound of a waterfall drifted to her ears, intermingled with the laughter and chatter of people.

Zhan Changfeng looked down and saw, nestled in a valley half-hidden by trees, a white cascade tumbling downward. Within the water lay a small islet; along the bank stood a pavilion. Students in white robes were wading through the stream singing, lounging on their sides in rest, or playing instruments and painting — at ease and unhurried, the refreshing coolness utterly captivating.

Qin Huan followed her gaze and smiled in explanation. “That spot is especially cool in summer. The teachers and students all love to go there. Unfortunately, it sits near Orchid Heart Pavilion, so the students from the other three halls often arrive too late to claim a spot — it’s already sparked quite a few fierce skirmishes.”

His tone was serene; he seemed genuinely amused by the younger students’ squabbles and scuffles.

Zhan Changfeng smiled and followed him into Orchid Heart Pavilion. At that moment, three bell chimes rang out, and a wave of footsteps arose behind them — the afternoon classes were beginning.

Once inside the entrance hall, Qin Huan said, “As per Master Yangming’s assessment, your history and literature are lacking. How about you start in Room One for history?”

“That’s fine with me,” Zhan Changfeng replied.

Qin Huan’s smile carried a note of genuine warmth. A student who recognized their gaps and sought to fill them — that was always a gratifying thing.

The courtyard was enclosed on four sides with four rooms. At its center stood a banyan tree so vast that ten people could not wrap their arms around its trunk. Its dense, enormous canopy blotted out the sky in all directions, casting a wide swath of cool shade.

Zhan Changfeng was brought into the room on the northern side. Inside, a dozen or so seats were arranged in neat rows. Most of the young students had not yet settled in their places. Qin Huan gave a light cough, and instantly, some rushed to their seats, others straightened their robes, and together they called out cheerfully, “Good afternoon, Teacher Qin.”

The atmosphere in the room leaned toward the relaxed — students here did not go quiet as quails the moment a teacher appeared. Moreover, since Orchid Heart Pavilion was filled with students of about thirteen or fourteen years of age, the lively spirit of youth had yet to be tempered away. So while the group dutifully offered their greeting, their eyes roamed restlessly toward the doorway.

A stocky, round-faced boy lit up with excitement. “Teacher Qin, is it a new student?”

“Give it a rest, Li Baimao,” a voice drawled lazily from the corner. “Even if a new student has come, it won’t change your fate of ranking dead last for ten thousand years running.”

The room burst into laughter.

Li Baimao was utterly shameless, not minding in the least. He let out an exaggerated, melancholy sigh. “In this world, there are always things that are hard to predict.”

In the seat beside him, a girl gathered her sleeve with one hand and lazily ground ink with the other, not even lifting her head. “True. One must always struggle a little — otherwise, how would you ever know that life holds not just despair, but utter hopelessness as well?”

“Ha! Exactly.”

Li Baimao jumped to his feet, jabbing a chubby finger at the girl, then pointing at the person in the corner. “Yu Sheng, Han Zhigao — did I wrong you two in a past life?!”

Han Zhigao brought his paperweight down with a sharp crack. “No. It’s us who must have committed too many sins and ended up stuck with you.”

Yu Sheng delivered her verdict: “A karmic debt.”

Li Baimao’s tongue tied itself in knots. He couldn’t find a comeback. His face turned red, and he squeezed out a single word: “…Damn.”

Qin Huan had watched enough of their antics. He pressed his hands down in a gesture for quiet and put on a stern face. “How can you carry on like this during class hours? Don’t make a fool of yourselves in front of our new classmate.”

He stepped aside. “Come and introduce yourself.”

The group of students looked past him. The person they had only glimpsed as a corner of a robe now came fully into view. They saw her clasp her hands in a greeting bow. “My name is Yi Zhan. I am in your care.”

The students returned the gesture. “Welcome. May we encourage each other on this path of learning.”

Qin Huan nodded with satisfaction and said to Zhan Changfeng, “Take whichever empty seat you like. Class is about to begin.”

Zhan Changfeng nodded and made her way to the only vacant seat.

It was a spot by the window. A branch reached in from midair, accompanied by a shaft of sunlight, its leaves lush and green, the slanted shadows below it swaying gently — a lovely sight. Yet sitting there offered nothing but heat, and it was no wonder that with students seated all around, this particular seat alone had remained unclaimed.

Zhan Changfeng paid it no mind. She settled herself properly onto the seat, took out her four treasures of the study, and listened as Teacher Qin at the front began explaining the structure of written characters. This was a calligraphy class.

“Everyone, you have been studying poetry, the classics, and their meanings for some time now. Please use your brushes to write out from memory whichever passage you admire most.”

“Yes.”

To write one’s finest characters, to transcribe one’s finest passages, to reflect on both the writing and the text — that was the theme of this lesson.

The students fell into silence, focusing intently on dipping their brushes and lifting their characters.

“Use your wrist, not your fingers.”

“Don’t rest your elbow on the desk.”

Qin Huan moved alongside Li Baimao and looked down at the string of tadpole-like scrawlings that constituted his work. His brow furrowed tightly enough to crush a fly. Li Baimao squirmed in his seat, and as Qin Huan turned away, he hastily called out, “Why aren’t you criticizing me, sir?”

The classmates around him couldn’t help but stifle their laughter, saying in unison, “Probably because there’s no hope left.”

“At the very least you can tell they’re characters, can’t you!” Li Baimao held up his masterpiece with an aggrieved expression. “I think there’s still something to be salvaged here.”

Yu Sheng shook her head. What a character. In the next moment, she noticed that Qin Huan had stopped beside her — but his back was turned to her, as he was looking at another student, the new arrival from that very day.

Qin Huan saw that she had written only two characters, and then nothing further — her brush had even been set aside. Considering the differences between the two regions’ writing systems, Qin Huan relaxed his expectations. “If you don’t know what to write, you may take out a model calligraphy sheet and copy it.”

(End of Chapter)