My Wife Is A Sword Immortal
Chapter 252 - 207 Teacher Jiang Shui Hongfeng’s Admonition

Chapter 252: Chapter 207 Teacher Jiang Shui Hongfeng’s Admonition

Yan Jidao stared at Zhao Rong, silent for a moment.

He patted his sleeve, then pointed at the stack of papers he had given to Zhao Rong earlier.

"I’ve revised these homework articles for you again," he said. "Among the other books, some are annotated editions of the Confucian Classics that I’ve collected over the years, and some are personal insights that I wrote down when inspired. You must study them carefully when you return."

Yan Jidao paused briefly, raising his eyes to look at Zhao Rong who stood listening attentively, and continued, "After returning to the Academy, you must diligently attend the classes of the art studies teachers. They are masters in the Six... Arts. Ziyu, you must not be arrogant or complacent because of your talent. You should humbly seek their guidance, and if there’s anything you don’t understand about the classics, art, or skill studies, you can always come and ask me."

The calm expression on Zhao Rong’s face suddenly changed.

The meaning behind Yan Jidao’s words conflicted with some of the things Zhao Rong had anticipated.

He opened his mouth and finally couldn’t help but speak, his voice filled with doubt, "Teacher, aren’t you going to keep me here?"

According to what Zhao Rong had envisioned on the way to Fenglin Courtyard, after Mr. Yan found out about the things he had done, shouldn’t he have immediately decided to take him as a disciple? After returning to the Academy, he should be frequently by his side, attentively mentoring and fostering a relationship.

After the one-year period for new students had passed, wouldn’t he be directly taken as an inner chamber disciple at the great disciple-accepting ceremony of Linlu Academy, leaving no chance for other teachers to influence him?

Although these thoughts were somewhat self-flattering, Zhao Rong felt it was natural human behavior; such a vanity wasn’t anything significant.

After all, it was Mr. Yan who had recommended him to enter the Academy, and there was also the connection with the Great Chu State Preceptor—Zhao Rong himself was clear that he didn’t actually know any State Preceptor, but surely Mr. Yan didn’t see it that way. Within Linlu Academy, the teacher Zhao Rong felt naturally closest to should be him.

Besides the special cases like those with exceptional talents, the practice of pre-selecting new students had happened among past students in the Academy. It was even something many Academy students yearned for; being pre-selected by an Academy teacher meant at the very least being an inner chamber disciple... Zhao Rong thought it was similar to top university students being guaranteed a spot for graduate studies in his previous life.

But now, these words of Yan Jidao didn’t seem to mean that he wanted to keep Zhao Rong close and cultivate him personally.

It seemed more like the earnest advice from a profound elder to a younger generation in whom he held high expectations...

Yan Jidao heard the question but did not immediately answer.

He walked with his hands clasped behind him to the maple tree, extended a hand, and gently caressed the trunk. Suddenly, he said:

"Ziyu, have you ever seen the scenery of river maples?"

Zhao Rong shook his head.

Yan Jidao looked up at the maple, his originally murky eyes now filled with the red of the leaves, and he murmured:

"My hometown is in Yun Meng Continent, by the riverbanks where the farmers live. When I was young and studied, raising my head would bring into view the river and the maple leaves...

The vast expanse of the river’s sky, the endless maple woods stretching along the banks, the cool wind stirring, leaves dancing, river grass bowing, sand singing like music, all reflecting in the surging waters. Half the river rustling, half ablaze with red, on sunny days a blaze of colors, on rainy days like fresh blood.

When faced with the setting sun’s glow, fishermen’s songs filling the evening, the sunset, the evening glow, the autumn maples, the river water, and the lanterns interweave layer upon layer, melding into one..."

Yan Jidao sighed softly, "No matter how you rub your eyes, it’s impossible to tell which has been dyed with whose red."

He turned to Zhao Rong and continued: "Back then, I left home young, with straw sandals and a bookcase, full of zeal, traveling on foot along the riverbanks northward, against the flow, headed to study at Xiyin Academy in Yun Meng Continent. That’s when I realized, not all riversides are planted with red maples as in my hometown. So I thought to myself, after I’ve learned enough and returned home, I’d make the emperors at the foot of the mountains plant river maples all along my journey home in honor of this farmer’s son, respectfully greeting the teacher’s return..."

Yan Jidao’s words came to a halt, his gaze scrutinizing Zhao Rong’s youthful face, and he exhaled deeply:

"Later, after studying at Xiyin Academy for several years... Ziyu, do you know which Great Dao I most wanted to follow at the time?"

Zhao Rong pursed his lips for a moment and then said softly, "It wasn’t the Six Arts of Confucianism."

Yan Jidao’s eyes flashed with appreciation, and then he spoke with gravity:

"Yun Meng Continent is very close to Tunan Continent. The influence of the Hundred Schools of Thought there is pervasive. That year, a farmer named Xu Zi came to the Academy to debate the Dao with the Mountain Master. Xu Zi, in his coarse cloth and straw sandals, exuded such an elegance that it deeply moved people, and his teachings on the Great Dao were ear-piercingly brilliant." Yan Jidao’s cloudy eyes sparkled with light.

"From then on, I began obsessing over abandoning Confucianism for the Dao, but fear of disappointing my teachers, dissuasion from peers, or perhaps the fear of being labeled as a heretic, in the end, I remained in the study of the classics and Confucianism."

Yan Jidao’s gaze dimmed, his eyes returning to their previous murkiness, and he fell silent.

Zhao Rong, who had been listening quietly, stood silently for a while, then hesitantly began, "Teacher..."

Yan Jidao looked up and said, "If I had to choose again, I would still choose the study of the classics and Confucianism."

His expression was calm.

Zhao Rong held back his words, locked eyes with him for a few moments, and nodded.

Yan Jidao turned his back.

"Ziyu, don’t be in a hurry to choose which path of Confucianism to follow. After you return to the Academy, faithfully attend the art studies teachers’ classes, guard against arrogance and impatience. Regarding the incident at the Nuanyi Gathering yesterday, I will speak to your senior brothers, asking them not to gossip. You focus on your studies, and after a year, come back to me with your answer."

Zhao Rong thought about it, wanting to say that among the Six Arts of Confucianism, one could follow several paths. But he had a feeling that if he actually said that, Mr. Yan would seriously lecture him again, so he kept the thought to himself.

Zhao Rong knew that Teacher Yan truly regarded him as a close junior, carefully mentoring him.

This was partly because Zhao Rong was recommended by his fellow senior disciple, and partly because Teacher Yan was delighted to discover that Zhao Rong was a rare "reading seed."

Zhao Rong then laughed and said, "Teacher, if I ultimately choose Master Zhu’s calligraphy, would you dissuade me?"

Yan Jidao was startled, his expression hesitant, but he eventually nodded, "I would dissuade you, but if you are set on that path, this old man would not obstruct."

He immediately added solemnly, "However, you must know that so far, no one has ever succeeded on that path; it currently appears to be a path of no return, and I believe you would not act rashly along with her."

Zhao Rong nodded silently, without saying anything.

At that moment,

Teacher Yan, standing under the tree, suddenly reached up and plucked a strikingly red maple leaf from amongst the numerous semi-red ones.

He looked down at the red leaf in his palm, and said with a smile:

"Ziyu, our Linlu Academy sits by the river, and alongside it is a maple forest, a signature view of Linlu. I’ll take you there someday to see."

Zhao Rong smiled, "Red maples by the water, mirroring their image, certainly a splendid sight. I look forward to appreciating it."

Yan Jidao burst into hearty laughter.

With a wave of his sleeve,

the countless fallen maple leaves beneath the tree were suddenly swept up as if by a slithering snake.

In the next second, the "snake" of maple leaves sequentially burrowed into the red leaf in Yan Jidao’s right hand.

The already extremely red maple leaf now turned a fresh blood-red, as if it were about to drip with color.

Yan Jidao shook his sleeve again and, with a sudden reach forward, he pulled a lifebound artifact from his alchemy room.

Suspended in mid-air,

Zhao Rong fixed his gaze and saw that it was an ordinary-looking Confucian classic with a blank cover.

Yan Jidao lifted a finger, and the classic opened on its own without wind.

The first few pages of the classic had few words, each shining with golden brilliance. As he flipped further, the words became more numerous but not as dazzling as those at the beginning.

At that moment,

Teacher Yan, while flipping through the book, paused, and the page he stopped at was one of the first few.

He reached out and seized.

A brilliant sentence that had been nurtured within the page for a long time detached itself and rose into the air.

Immediately, Yan Jidao twirled his finger, pointing to the maple leaf in his hand.

In that instant, the "sentence" entered the maple leaf.

The light of the maple leaf gradually faded and returned to normal.

Yan Jidao handed the maple leaf to Zhao Rong.

He simply said, "Keep it close to you."

Zhao Rong took it, looked down, and his gaze sharpened. The leaf itself was unremarkable, but there were words on its surface, which he read softly,

"Vast, vast the river water, and above are the maples."

Zhao Rong looked up at Yan Jidao’s expression and understood a bit more.

He had heard from Brother Yushu before that in order to protect the Academy’s reading seeds, the teachers who guided them would bestow upon them special items to be used as life-saving measures in critical moments.

Zhao Rong carefully put away the maple leaf.

"Thank you, Teacher."

Yan Jidao stroked his beard and nodded.