Chapter 81: The Sage Within, The King Without

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Since Liu Ping entered the realm of fiction and became a novelist, he had grown much more sensitive to related topics. He was suddenly aware that its presence was everywhere around him. In the past, when he occasionally overheard such talk at the academy, he paid it no mind, dismissing it subconsciously as irrelevant. Now, however, things were different.

Among the students at the academy, aside from discussions of worldly pleasures, novels had become one of the most popular topics of conversation. It was now the conclusion of “A Branch of Peach Blossom,” and talk of its ending was everywhere—one heard such discussions at every turn.

Liu Ping was quite surprised; he had not expected Master Peach Blossom’s influence to be so great. The popularity was practically unrivaled.

He told himself that the idea of being in competition with Master Peach Blossom was far-fetched—after all, the man was not even a carriage but an airplane, soaring overhead without ever noticing those below. Still, in his heart, Liu Ping retained a certain pride, always viewing Master Peach Blossom as a rival, determined to surpass him. Yet, the reality seemed less than optimistic.

He shook his head, dismissing these thoughts, and made his way to the classroom.

Liu Ping took his seat and glanced back at Zhu Yingtai, asking, “Lately, I’ve heard so much talk about Master Peach Blossom and the ending of ‘A Branch of Peach Blossom.’ Jie Zhi, you’ve read quite a few novels before, but you’ve never mentioned this sort of thing, have you?”

Zhu Yingtai frowned thoughtfully. “I did read a lot in the past, but since entering Tianqi Academy, I haven’t read any novels at all. You, of all people, should know that, so naturally I haven’t talked about them.”

Liu Ping nodded. “That’s true.” Seeing the odd and faintly impatient expression on Zhu Yingtai’s face, he realized she disliked discussing such topics—or perhaps disliked discussing them with him—and let the matter drop.

He was about to change the subject when Zhu Yingtai spoke up, “By the way, about the topic the instructor assigned yesterday—the discussion on Inner Sage, Outer King—what are your thoughts on it, Liu Ping?”

“Inner Sage, Outer King?” Liu Ping was momentarily taken aback, then pondered for a moment before replying, “The ‘Great Learning’ proposes three core principles—manifesting virtue, loving the people, and reaching the utmost good—as well as eight outlines: investigating things, attaining knowledge, sincerity of intention, rectifying the heart, cultivating the self, regulating the family, governing the state, and bringing peace to all under heaven. These embody the significant transition from ‘inner sage’ to ‘outer king.’ In my view, this concept is not merely about benevolent governance within and ruling with authority without; there are deeper layers. Ultimately, it all comes down to the idea of manifesting virtue.”

“Manifesting virtue? That sounds a bit vague.” Zhu Yingtai shook her head slightly. “As for ‘manifesting,’ it’s about knowing when to stop, then being able to be steadfast; from steadfastness comes tranquility; tranquility leads to peace; peace allows for deliberation; and from deliberation comes attainment. That’s well put. As for virtue…”

Liu Ping thoroughly enjoyed the academic atmosphere of this discussion, especially the four-character maxim “Inner Sage, Outer King.” It was, in his view, the surest and swiftest path for a nation to achieve prosperity and unity.

If a people could not even aspire to the basic standard of cultivating themselves inwardly and ruling outwardly, they could hardly blame the turmoil and discontent among the populace.

On the other hand, if a nation were to reverse the order—focusing on outward dominion and only inward cultivation secondarily—to consolidate power and hasten economic growth, the result might be a surge in external fortune, but the rapid depletion of the nation’s core vitality would be inevitable.

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Yet if governance relied exclusively on cultivating the inner sage and ruling as the outer king, without proper checks and balances, decay and decline would soon follow, leading to a catastrophic collapse of fortune.

No matter the world, the reasoning remains the same—politics is never simple.

As for the current Xia Dynasty, there was still no official stance as to whether to pursue the path of Inner Sage, Outer King, or its reversal. Proponents of each theory had formed their own factions within the court and temples, locked in opposition.

But this was not something Liu Ping needed to concern himself with now. He was but a scholar, though he harbored aspirations of standing in the imperial court. It was far too soon for him to consider which faction to join or how to maneuver in their struggles.

For now, such discussions were purely for the sake of scholarly refinement.

Before long, a fine rain began to fall outside the window.

The spring rain was like ox hair—fine and persistent. The sun retreated behind the clouds, and the gentle warmth of the day was replaced by a slight chill brought on by the endless drizzle.

A gust of cold wind swept in, and Zhu Yingtai, who had been animatedly discussing, shivered and opened her mouth to sneeze.

Startled, her eyes widened. Liu Ping quickly covered her mouth with his hand, then hurried her outside to a secluded corner. When he finally let her go, Zhu Yingtai’s expression had grown rather enchanting.

“That was close just now. Thank you, Fengchang.”

Her voice was soft and pleasant, but Liu Ping was in no mood to admire it. “Hurry up and change back! You almost gave yourself away!”

This sneeze that transformed her gender reminded Liu Ping of a character he’d seen in his previous life. He had a vague impression, but couldn’t recall exactly who it was, and his expression grew odd.

Before long, she reverted to her original form. Liu Ping, half-joking, sighed, “Since I saved you so gallantly, you must repay me with your hand in marriage one day!”

Zhu Yingtai gave him a playful look. “Hmm, that’s not a bad idea.”

Liu Ping laughed, about to reply, but Zhu Yingtai cut in, eyeing his figure with interest. “With your build, you’d make quite the lovely lady. The face is a bit of a flaw, but it’s passable—you could just about qualify as my bride.”

“I’m not the only one who should be grateful, and besides, I’m quite handsome! What do you mean, my face is a flaw? Just because you’re even more handsome doesn’t mean you get to put me down!” Liu Ping couldn’t help but protest.

Zhu Yingtai glanced at his face and burst out laughing, all her mischief unspoken but clear.

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“Don’t laugh!”

Liu Ping pouted. Though he didn’t have the same stunning features Zhu Yingtai had when presenting as male, he thought he wasn’t so bad himself…

Yet hearing that scornful laughter, he felt the full force of the world’s malice.

The days slipped by, and in the blink of an eye, half a month had passed.

During this time, Liu Ping had made a trip to the temple, attempting to ascend to the heavens, but had failed. The pattern he’d deduced last time seemed flawed; he’d have to make some adjustments. He also visited the Daoist temple twice. Though his senior was still in seclusion, at Little Flower’s persistent urging, he went in and cooked several dishes for the little glutton.

Today, at last, was the publication day of his own novel, “The Investiture of the Three Kingdoms.”

Just yesterday, Master Peach Blossom’s new work, “Green Robes, Bamboo Raft,” had also gone on sale to a spectacular reception. Of the initial thirty thousand copies released simultaneously across all major bookstores in Zhang County, not a single one remained, breaking the county’s record for first-day novel sales.

Qingshan Publishing had allocated a first print run of one hundred thousand copies to Zhang County, with another four hundred thousand distributed to other provinces and counties for simultaneous release. Though the frenzy was not quite as intense elsewhere, sales were still brisk.

And today, in the unobtrusive corners of the shelves and stalls of over twenty bookstores, a new book appeared—“The Investiture of the Three Kingdoms.”

Zhang County, with its nineteen districts, boasted over five hundred bookstores large and small. Yet YouShu Publishing had only managed to persuade just over twenty of them to stock “The Investiture of the Three Kingdoms,” after countless invitations and favors called in. The editors of YouShu Publishing were moved to tears by the difficulty of the process.

Of the books distributed to these stores, there were only a thousand copies. Another four thousand remained at YouShu Publishing itself. Should the novel fail to sell well in those shops, those four thousand would likely rot in the warehouse.

So, though the editors were confident in “The Investiture of the Three Kingdoms,” they were still anxious. Many excellent novels had been praised but failed commercially. The main problem was that all readers’ attention was now firmly fixed on Master Peach Blossom’s new book, “Green Robes, Bamboo Raft.” With no word of mouth or promotional funds, whether anyone would even notice this new release, let alone recognize its worth, buy it, and see it become a hit, remained uncertain.