Chapter Sixteen: Once Having Seen the Vast Ocean, All Other Waters Pale (5)

Kong Sheng had long since weighed the consequences of his current circumstances and the repercussions of refusing to renew the Yang family's marriage alliance. Reestablishing the engagement with Yang Xueruo would certainly secure Yang Qi's recommendation and the Yang family's protection, greatly increasing his chances of advancement. From any angle, it seemed to be a choice with countless advantages and no apparent harm.

Yet a true man must have principles—one must sometimes act not merely to preserve pride, but to uphold dignity. The Yang family had forced the annulment in the first place; now that Kong Sheng had decided to leave them behind, there could be no turning back.

The world was vast, with countless places to find shelter and spread one's wings. In this small corner of Jiangnan, there was simply no room for a hidden dragon like him. He had long planned to leave Jiangnan and seek a new life elsewhere, and now he was steadfastly following his own design, unable to waver or contradict himself.

Moreover, if he were to retrace his steps, he would clearly fall under the complete control of Yang Qi and the Yang family. Whatever great accomplishments he might achieve in the future, he would be nothing more than a vassal of the Yangs, a pawn at Yang Qi’s disposal.

Kong Sheng was not a man content to live under another's shadow; how could he let others decide the course of his life and fate?

Compared to the grand and tumultuous drama that awaited him in the years to come, the petty revenge of a few dissipated scions and the slander of some local scholars in Jiangning were nothing—hardly worth mentioning at all. Such trivial matters would never crush or intimidate him.

Next door, every sound from Kong Sheng’s room and his confrontation with Yang Kuan drifted into the ears of Bai Yunzi and his disciple.

Ata, somewhat worried, whispered, “Master, in the past, Kong was unruly and careless, but now he’s reformed and upright—perhaps too unyielding. Refusing to bow to the Yangs, I fear he won’t be able to remain in Jiangning for long.”

“Master, why not let him accompany us to Guanluo and seek a place in General Guo Fenyang’s army? With his talent in both literature and martial arts, surely he would find his chance there.”

“That would not do. Though Kong Sheng is gifted with great strength and skilled in martial arts, he is above all a scholar. True honor must be earned through scholarly achievement, not by abandoning the brush for the sword. In my opinion, Kong Sheng has already found a new beginning; fate has its plans for him. We can only go along with the will of heaven; to interfere forcefully would do more harm than good,” Bai Yunzi replied, stroking his beard.

Ata frowned. He did not agree with his master’s talk of fate and going along with heaven’s will. Others might call the old Taoist an immortal, but in Ata’s eyes, Bai Yunzi was just an ordinary old man—perhaps with better health than most, but not someone who could change the winds with a snap of his fingers.

“Master, my worry is that if we leave him alone here in Jiangning, he might be killed before he ever has a chance to rise. He’s given Yang Qi no end of embarrassment—Yang Qi won’t let it go so easily. With his power in Jiangnan, even if the Yang family doesn’t act openly, just Yang Qi’s subtle machinations behind the scenes could be enough to ruin him!”

“Ata, you see only the surface, not the deeper layers. Yang Qi may be ruthless, but he has a reputation for hypocrisy. I predict that, as a descendant of the Kong family, neither Yang Qi nor the Yangs will dare to openly harm Kong Sheng. At most, they will work behind the scenes to force his submission. That is the first point.

“Secondly, Kong Sheng has already made a name for himself through his talent. Though the Kong family has declined, it is still a branch of the great line of Confucius. The Yangs must keep this in mind, for the main branch at court is closely related to Kong Sheng’s own ancestors. With Yang Qi present, Kong Sheng’s life will not truly be in danger, no matter the trials he faces here.

“Third, though young, Kong Sheng is shrewd and composed. I see in him a man who has already considered his situation thoroughly and is well prepared. You need not worry yourself too much.”

Bai Yunzi slowly rose and paced the room with his hands clasped behind his back, a faint, knowing smile on his lips. “In the end, Kong Sheng is my acknowledged disciple. Yang Qi will, at the very least, show some respect for me. If he truly dares to act against Kong Sheng in defiance of all decency, no matter how high his position, I will not let him get away with it!”

A cold light flickered in Bai Yunzi’s eyes.

Ata responded with a soft sound; as his master spoke, his worries gradually faded. Indeed, as Bai Yunzi had said, Yang Qi was unlikely to act openly. As long as he didn’t use force, Kong Sheng’s intelligence would be more than enough to weather some minor storms. The trials to come could only temper him.

Unaware of the discussion happening next door, Kong Sheng was soon visited by Hongmian, the personal maid of Miss Yang Xueruo.

Of all the servants in the Yang household over the past two years, Hongmian had been the least friendly to Kong Sheng—her attitude among the most hostile. But the past was the past. Having undergone a “rebirth through fire,” Kong Sheng was not the sort to take offense at a teenage maid.

In fact, Hongmian now seemed a little embarrassed. Blushing and fidgeting, she handed him a letter from Yang Xueruo, her voice unsteady: “Young Master Kong, this is a letter from my mistress. She asks that you read it and reply—I'll wait here for your answer.”

With Yang Xueruo’s attitude as precedent, Hongmian didn’t dare call Kong Sheng a “weakling” any longer; she swallowed the words before they left her lips.

Kong Sheng was surprised—he hadn’t expected Yang Xueruo to send him a letter through her maid behind her parents’ backs. Of course, this wasn’t the strictly regulated society of later dynasties; the Tang era was far more open, and correspondence between men and women was not so shocking.

“Please, have a seat,” Kong Sheng said, gesturing.

Hongmian looked around but found nowhere appropriate to sit—she certainly couldn’t sit on his bed—so she simply pouted and stood by, waiting for his reply.

Kong Sheng opened the letter and read it through, surprise flickering across his face.

In it, Yang Xueruo wrote in a calm tone about the long-standing friendship between their families and the story of their engagement, then expressed her regret and confusion at his previous behavior, hiding his talents under a guise of recklessness. She ended with heartfelt advice, urging Kong Sheng to recognize the dangers surrounding him and the storm to come.

Yang Xueruo seemed to have already guessed that Kong Sheng would refuse the Yang family’s offer to renew the engagement.

At the end of the letter, she included a poem:

Concealed ambition, veiled in shadow, awaits its time,
The jade-green waters of Qinhuai, dreamy and sublime.
In sudden copper mirrors, blue magpies fall,
A long qin's notes startle wild geese to call.
Last night the bamboo grove echoed with autumn rain,
Beneath the window, silver lamp meets morning wind again.
This letter carries my question to where you are—
When shall we walk together, beneath the boundless azure afar?

Poetry can express both ambition and feeling; this was in essence a love letter, in which Yang Xueruo boldly revealed her heart. She lamented Kong Sheng’s former concealment and his sudden rise, subtly confessing her admiration and asking whether they might one day walk through life together.

At its core, she still hoped he would seize the opportunity to renew the engagement—a sensible, elegant resolution.

It had to be said: Yang Xueruo was truly a woman of remarkable talent, her letter brimming with literary grace. At least, Kong Sheng admitted that she surpassed him, a “fraud,” in this regard.

He had never held much resentment toward her, but the broken engagement had left him with some lingering distaste. Yet upon reading her letter—with its gentleness, warmth, rationality, and spiritual clarity—he found his impression of her greatly changed, as if a refreshing breeze had swept over him.

Of course, this had nothing to do with affection. Kong Sheng would not be swayed by a single sincere letter, but faced with such honest and tender feelings, he could not bear to respond harshly.

After some thought, he took up brush and paper and wrote only two lines in reply:

“Having seen the vast sea, no other waters can compare;
Beyond Mount Wu, clouds are no longer the same.”

He dried the page, folded it, and handed it to Hongmian with a slight smile. “Please give this letter to Miss Yang. This is my reply.”

While he wrote, Hongmian glanced over his shoulder. Not literate in poetry, she could not decipher the meaning of his elegant lines. To her, two lines seemed far too brief—a perfunctory reply, lacking sincerity. Dissatisfaction clouded her face.

She snatched the letter, muttering, “Just two lines—how lazy can you be?”

Kong Sheng pretended not to hear, waving her off.

“Fine, I’m leaving! What’s so great about it anyway?” Hongmian pouted, glared at him, stamped her foot, and swayed away in a huff.