CHAPTER 152: CHAPTER 90 QIAN, I’M COMING_1

The teachers and students of the academy began to frantically flee up the mountain, trampling underfoot everything they supposedly held dear: respect for teachers, rites, and morality. Elderly Instructors and prominent scholars were trampled by their own students. The bonds of fellowship were reduced to unceremoniously shoving aside anyone who dared block their path. The plaque, bearing the calligraphy of the current Prime Minister, had lost its protective power. It had been tossed to the ground and was already cracked from being trampled.

Some words, some slogans, are fine to shout for oneself; clever people know not to take them to heart. But the foolish? They brainwash themselves. When the blade truly fell, dreams shattered. The veil of false beauty was slashed open, revealing the ugly face hidden beneath—one’s own.

From spurring his horse forward to the swing of his blade, Zheng Fan had maintained a calm demeanor.

However, as he watched this supposed cream of Yan’s scholars—these paragons of Yan’s culture and integrity—scurrying about and wailing like homeless dogs, a trace of melancholy flickered in Chief Zheng’s eyes.

Life, if entirely predictable, often means boredom.

Zheng Fan had actually hoped to see these seeds of Yan’s culture stand defiant before the butcher’s knife, united as one. That would have been truly impressive and added much more meaning to the situation.

But as it turned out, he had overthought things again.

He sighed. The blade, dripping with the blood of the one called Huang Zichong, was slowly raised.

Zheng Fan ordered, "Take them all! Those who dare to resist, kill without mercy!"

Liang Cheng, standing behind Zheng Fan, repeated the command in the barbarian tongue. In truth, Zheng Fan had been learning the barbarian language recently; it wasn’t difficult to learn. But at this moment, to be safe, he still relied on Liang Cheng as his translator. He was afraid that if his orders weren’t clear, his barbarian soldiers might misinterpret them and slaughter everyone in the academy. That would have been disastrous.

The barbarian soldiers all dismounted. Leaving more than twenty men to guard the horses, the rest charged through the memorial archway, weapons raised.

Zheng Fan also dismounted. Accompanied by Liang Cheng, he followed the barbarian soldiers up the stone steps leading up the mountain.

Lying before him was an old man in tattered clothes, his face smeared with blood. He was likely an Instructor or a prominent scholar from the academy, knocked down and trampled by his own students as they fled. He was no longer breathing.

Zheng Fan walked around the old man’s body and remarked with a sigh, "You know, it’s one thing for young students to believe the world is beautiful and innocent. But this old fellow, for all his years, truly lived the life of a dog, none the wiser."

"My lord, he was the one shouting from the back just moments ago."

"But in the end, he was the first to be trampled to death."

"True enough."

Zheng Fan continued his ascent, stopping before the fallen plaque. It was severely damaged, already covered in numerous cracks from being trampled.

Zheng Fan pointed to the plaque on the ground and asked Liang Cheng, "Think it can be repaired?"

"If it’s just making a rubbing of the calligraphy, that shouldn’t be a problem."

"Hmm, these are characters written by the current Prime Minister, after all. Let’s take it back and make a rubbing. We can hang it in our Green Willow Fortress. The phrase ’Boundless Learning’ is quite the jack-of-all-trades; it can be hung anywhere."

"Alright, understood," Liang Cheng acknowledged.

Zheng Fan suddenly turned his head to look at Dujuan, who was following behind him and Liang Cheng, and asked, "Miss Du, do you think the Prime Minister will blame me for trampling his alma mater today?"

Dujuan pondered the meaning of "alma mater" for a moment before replying, "His Excellency the Prime Minister has always been known for his magnanimity."

"See? See? Did you hear that, Liang Cheng?" Zheng Fan said. "Miss Du says the Prime Minister won’t retaliate openly. He’ll resort to underhanded tactics!"

Dujuan remained silent.

Continuing up the mountain, the path was littered with scattered books, headscarves, fans, and other such scholarly accoutrements.

"Hey, don’t move."

Zheng Fan raised his hand, signaling Liang Cheng and Dujuan, who were beside him, to stop.

Then, Zheng Fan bent down and picked up a jade pendant from the steps. It had likely been dropped by one of the fleeing teachers or students. Holding it in his hand, he blew on it gently.

Zheng Fan turned his head and asked Dujuan, "Miss Du, should I turn this in?"

"If Chief Zheng fancies it, you may keep it."

"Thank you," Zheng Fan said, pocketing the jade pendant.

Clutching the jade pendant, Zheng Fan continued his march uphill.

Qingming Mountain wasn’t very high, so it didn’t take long for the three of them to spot the academy buildings and dormitories above. These were the first proper school buildings Zheng Fan had seen since arriving in this world. At least, he hadn’t seen any such structures in Hutou City.

A cornerstone of the aristocracy’s power was their monopoly on education. These prominent families had their own clan schools to educate their members, making it exceedingly difficult for ordinary people to receive an education. This educational monopoly effectively severed the path for most commoners to advance. This was why, even though the current Yan Emperor consciously tried to promote individuals from humble families, they ultimately struggled to form a significant power base. After all, the true elite still predominantly hailed from these great clans, inherently bearing their mark.

In the open area outside the academy buildings, hundreds of teachers and students were forced to kneel, none permitted to stand. Initially, a middle-aged scholar attempted to stand and cry out, "A disgrace to scholars! A disgrace to culture!" but a barbarian soldier, who didn’t understand a word, promptly smashed out a mouthful of his teeth with a weapon hilt.

Yesterday, in front of Lord Jingnan, Zheng Fan had remarked that barbarian soldiers and scholars were a match made in heaven. Indeed, events were proving him right.

Most of the teachers and students were gathered here. A few had scattered outside, but the agile barbarian soldiers quickly rounded them up one by one.