Chapter 433: The Last Song of Fufeng

Chapter 433

The so-called salon was essentially the most beloved lofty discussion of literature and philosophy that originated in the Han Dynasty. It would be initiated by one person and joined by many. Focusing inexhaustibly on a single viewpoint, they would debate endlessly, citing ancient examples to illustrate modern circumstances.

There was even a unique game that developed called the Cup of Wine Game. Everyone would sit on opposite banks of a canal, placing cups of wine in the flowing water. Whichever cup stopped in front of someone, that person would take the cup and drink the wine, compose a poem or quote a phrase, answer the viewpoint, and so on.

Of course, Fu Feng could not drink any wine. And there were no hot springs flowing in the bitter cold of winter. So the gathering place was simply chosen to be in the spacious area outside the west city gates.

The reason it was the west gate was because Anshui Prefecture lay in the westerly direction.

The city defense troops had already been notified ahead of time, and benches and stools had been brought out early and set up. A high platform was erected in the center, surrounded by seats for the scholars and students, as well as common folk who came to watch the spectacle.

As the New Year approached, Fengjing was even livelier than Anshui Prefecture. The streets were strung with large, shining lanterns. Red ribbons fluttered in the wind. Over 90 percent of the commoners wore new clothes, carried cloud cakes and other snacks, and never forgot to bring candy apples.

Having gotten word of the event, young students had claimed their seats early and now looked expectantly at the high platform, craning their necks to try to catch the first glimpse of Young Master Fu Feng.

The teachers from Anshui had their own seats grouped together, murmuring amongst themselves.

Teacher Qian said, “Fengjing is clearly wealthier than Anshui Prefecture. Just look how much bigger those lanterns are!”

The scholar who had passed the provincial exam said, “That’s tantamount to stating the obvious. Fengjing is the wealthiest place in the entire Dayu Dynasty.”

The master teacher stroked his beard. “But I still love Anshui Prefecture the most.”

Who doesn’t cherish their hometown?

Perhaps you won’t stay there long. Perhaps you’ll occasionally feel disgusted by it. But the familiar living environment, the streets and alleys you can navigate with your eyes closed, will always be memories you can’t forget no matter where you end up.

The few master teachers smiled knowingly at each other. Teacher Qian, the youngest among them with the sharpest eyes, was the first to catch sight of them coming down the street. “Here they come! They’re here!”

The hosts of this salon had arrived.

Clearly the tide of people ebbed and flowed on the streets. Clearly silhouettes mingled and crossed. But you could still clearly make out that group in the crowd.

The one wearing a white changpao overcoat lined with fox fur around the collar was Fu Feng.

The one in the green changpao, standing as straight as a pine tree, was Xu Mo.

Their friends and family members flanked them on both sides, their paces fast or slow, but with a resolute air about them.

“Young Master Fu Feng is here!”

“Young Master Qingzhu is here too!”

The crowd stirred again. The young scholars seemed as if they wanted to stand up, but constrained each other to remain seated.

They gazed up longingly, watching as Fu Feng slowly ascended the high platform carrying his zither, watching as Xu Mo led his younger siblings to stand among the crowd.

One step, one level higher. One position taken, one platform ascended.

Halfway up, Fu Feng appeared slightly fatigued. He took a deep breath and recovered his vigor before sitting cross-legged atop the high platform.

One student couldn’t help but call out, “Rebel! Demand fairness! Demand opportunity!”

Without rebellion, there was no fairness. Without fairness, there was no opportunity. Without opportunity, why should they work hard?

Like a spark setting off flames, those impassioned words ignited the resentment simmering in countless members of the lower class. They roared their demand for fairness. They shook their fists, ready to rebel.

They were trying to break free of their shackles and climb upwards to replace the aristocrats, as the horrified members of powerful families looked on.

There was only so much wealth in the world to go around. One more person taking a share meant less profit for each person.

As the students’ roars grew more frenzied, the eavesdropping aristocrats became more panicked.

At the same time, the imperial family attempting to suppress the aristocratic houses would only feel more delighted.

Young Master Fu Feng hadn’t chosen this topic randomly. Everything he said was carefully considered. He knew the conflict between Xu Mo and the Fang clan wasn’t merely about corruption in the examination system, but about the class conflict between commoners and aristocrats, the struggle for power, the battle over interests.

By revealing the truth of class divisions at the salon, he incited the students to have the courage to rebel. What Xu Mo as a single commoner student couldn’t accomplish, countless commoner students working together could achieve.

“Wasn’t that exactly how the Fang clan bullied people, bullying our Young Master Qingzhu!” Wang Mingyu shouted loudly from below.

The already stirred-up students burned with even greater fury now, pumping their fists as they howled, “Make the Fang clan account for this!”

“The Fang clan is corrupt and defamed us commoner students. They’re afraid of us crossing class boundaries. They’re obstructing our path!”

“Rebel! Demand fairness! Demand opportunity!”

“Punish Fang Yuan! Say no to corruption in the examinations!”

The formerly exploited hot-blooded students were now galvanized.

Filled with indignation, they dispersed in all directions, pouring out endless streams of words. With all the passion in their hearts, they rebelled, exerting their meager strength.

And so the salon came to an end. Snowflakes drifted down from the skies, forming a world of extreme cold amidst the students’ fiery rage.

Xu Mo was conflicted, his heart filled with complex emotions swirling chaotically. He could only wait for the person on the high platform to descend before he could express his thanks, condemnation, helplessness, sorrow, sighs, and the hot tears that welled up in his eyes.

But before he could do anything, it was too late.

The figure on the platform swayed unsteadily. The zither tumbled from his embrace. His body pitched backward towards the sky.

Something sprayed out. Was it blood?

It was blood.

“Brother Fu!”

“Brother Fu!”

“My brother......”

Innumerable figures raced desperately towards him.