Volume One: The Warden and the Ward Chapter Forty: Fireflies, Bright Moon, and Dark Clouds (Part One)

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Zhang Bi watched Yang Shen's various actions below, listening to his confident discourse, and the envy in his heart could not be suppressed. He, too, had studied diligently in solitude for ten years, always regarded by those around him as a prodigy. Before the age of thirty, he had already achieved a top ten ranking in the second tier of imperial examinations and became a scholar. Later, through selection at the Hanlin Academy, he became one whom all scholars in the realm looked up to, a Junior Compiler. Yet now, past the age of forty, he remained an insignificant compiler at the Academy, almost indistinguishable from this younger colleague, who was ten years his junior.

Yang Shen, whether by birth or talent, was far beyond his reach. By now, Yang Shen had become the focus of all eyes, valued by the emperor, while he himself could only play a supporting role. When Yang Shen finished his lecture, it would be Zhang Bi's turn to take the stage. But clearly, after such a brilliant speech, what he would say next would likely attract no further attention.

Yes, even Zhang Bi himself had to admit Yang Shen's performance was exceptionally brilliant and ingenious, far surpassing his own abilities. It was said that an essay should start with the head of a dragon, have the belly of a pig, and end with the tail of a leopard; today, Yang Shen's performance embodied this perfectly, and now he was concluding with the leopard's tail!

"Your Majesty, the downfall of the Later Han was truly due to rulers favoring petty men and distancing themselves from virtuous ministers, especially when those of humble birth and base behavior—eunuchs—were placed at their side and favored, leading to a nation in turmoil and misery among the people.

Emperor Taizong of Tang once said, 'By taking history as a mirror, one can know the rise and fall of states.' As descendants, how can we fail to draw lessons from the demise of Han and the collapse of Tang?

Moreover, the mistakes of Emperor Wuzong's reign are a recent and weighty warning; the calamities brought upon the capital and provinces by Liu Jin and others are still frequently reported... Now that Your Majesty is wise and already inclined to rectify chaos and restore order, how could you repeat the same mistakes and become the laughingstock of the world?"

Having spoken his final words, Yang Shen bowed deeply, touching the ground, signaling the end of his lecture at the imperial study. At that moment, the emperor Jiajing was utterly silent, his gaze flickering as if he had taken the words to heart, yet perhaps also pondering thoughts known only to himself.

The many officials present were excited, their eyes upon Yang Shen filled with admiration. His words were excellent, truly voicing everyone's feelings! Were it not for the inappropriate setting and the emperor's presence, most would have applauded Yang Shen's performance.

Yet that fervor, which moved hundreds, was still palpably felt throughout the hall.

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Moved by this, Zhang Bi could only let out another bitter laugh in his heart—what was there not to envy and submit to? Yang Shen was indeed far superior to himself. Even setting aside his background—he had no father who had served as Grand Secretary—his talent alone promised a boundless future.

Compared to Yang Shen, he was like a firefly competing with the bright moon, utterly incomparable.

"To be allowed to speak after him is already a great honor!"

Thinking thus, Zhang Bi pressed his hands to rise.

Just then, a clear voice sounded from behind: "Lord Yang, your words are erroneous—gravely so!"

This sudden, disrespectful interjection was like pouring boiling oil onto flames, erupting with a roar and surprising everyone, causing countless heads to turn toward the source.

Zhang Bi was no exception, and he saw a man standing upright near the corner by the main entrance, meeting the myriad gazes with calmness, showing not a hint of fear.

This man was very familiar to Zhang Bi; he had helped him enter the Imperial Academy that very day, and recently, he had become the Academy's most renowned figure—

Huang Ming!

Huang Ming stood firm, utterly ignoring the hundreds of eyes upon him, his gaze fixed upon Yang Shen's face, even with a hint of challenge.

Among those present, Yang Shen was perhaps one of the least surprised by this disturbance.

Yesterday, when he received word from Gu Dayong that the lecture was to be held at the Imperial Academy, he had anticipated trouble.

And now trouble had indeed arrived!

But wasn't it a bit late? He had already spoken, thoroughly, and even the emperor seemed to agree—what more could disrupt him?

Yang Shen turned his eyes to Huang Ming.

Across the vast hall and the crowd of officials, their eyes met and clashed!

This was their first meeting, but in that moment, both knew who the other was, and both recognized each would be their rival.

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"Outrageous!"

The first to speak was not Yang Shen, who had been challenged in public, but the official from the Ministry of Rites presiding over the lecture: "How can the imperial lecture be disrupted by anyone speaking at will?"

Upon closer inspection, seeing Huang Ming's attire—he was not a court official, but a young man—the official became even more brusque: "Guards, seize this troublemaker who disturbs the lecture! He will be dealt with later!"

As an event valued by the court, the lecture was protected by security measures. Outside the hall, dozens of armored imperial guards stood ready. Hearing the order, several moved quickly to encircle Huang Ming.

Seeing he was about to be seized, Huang Ming remained fearless, calling out loudly: "Wait! The imperial lecture is meant for ministers to present their learning to the emperor, and to discuss literature and history. I merely expressed my opinion—how is that disrespectful?"

"What is your status? When is it your turn to speak here—"

Before the official could finish, Huang Ming retorted immediately: "The great truth, the factual reality—can right and wrong be determined solely by rank?

If that were so, what position did Confucius hold, that he had three thousand disciples and is venerated for all ages?"

This caused everyone to pause, and the official hesitated to issue his next command.

The imperial guards behind Huang Ming, sensing the moment, also refrained from acting, awkwardly frozen in place.

Seizing the opportunity, Huang Ming continued: "Or perhaps you all know that Lord Yang's argument is actually gravely mistaken, and fear I might refute him, so you hurriedly try to have me removed?"

With these words, no one dared stop Huang Ming from finishing, lest they disrespect Yang Shen.

Even Yang Shen himself laughed—angered yet amused by the bold claim: "Who are you, that you dare utter such wild words!"

Huang Ming immediately bowed deeply to Emperor Jiajing, who had recovered and now wore a slight smile: "Your servant, Huang Ming, a student of the Imperial Academy, greets Your Majesty. I have heartfelt words that can refute Lord Yang's erroneous statements. I beseech Your Majesty's permission."