Chapter 164 On Teachers
"...disrespect, disrespect."
Faced with the polite and courteous manner of the imposing young county magistrate before him, Yuan Xiangshan stroked his beard and nodded, his expression softening slightly.
He replied just as politely:
"I've heard of you. Master Su and Madam Su have both praised you in front of me. My eldest son also praised you a few days ago, saying that he has made a good teacher and friend... However..."
Yuan Xiangshan shook his head and didn't say anything more, but he glanced at Ouyang Rong very clearly.
It seems that, out of respect for the younger generation, some things were left unsaid, allowing them to figure it out themselves.
Ouyang Rong, seemingly oblivious, nodded without batting an eye.
"I don't deserve it, I don't deserve it. It's all thanks to Dalang and the others. You don't need to take it too seriously, sir."
"..."
Which eye saw me as someone who took it seriously?
Yuan Xiangshan couldn't help but glance at Ouyang Rong again before speaking directly:
"There are some things that I, as a senior, am unsure whether I should say..."
Upon hearing this opening gesture, Ouyang Rong turned to look at Su Dalang, who was bowing respectfully to serve tea beside Yuan Xiangshan, who was sitting upright.
The latter shook his head at him, his eyes filled with apology.
As the two exchanged glances, Yuan Xiangshan took a sip of tea to moisten his throat, and continued with a stern face:
“If we tell you, you young people will accuse us of taking advantage of our age. But if we don’t tell you, we’ll be harming you, and we older folks won’t be happy either. We can’t just stand by and watch you younger generation go astray, can we?”
Ouyang Rong turned around and sincerely shook his head at Yuan Xiangshan, who was about to begin chanting, saying:
"I shouldn't say anything more, sir. You should drink more tea and save your words for teaching and nurturing students in the classroom."
Yuan Xiangshan frowned, and waved his old hand:
"It's alright. Dalang is here now, so we can give him a good talk. It can be considered an extracurricular lesson in education."
The old man sighed:
"Actually, I wouldn't want to say this to just anyone, but since you consider me a good friend, I naturally have to fulfill my duties as an elder."
Ouyang Rong couldn't help but interject, "Actually, it's fine if the old gentleman treats me like an outsider; it's quite nice."
Su Dalang advised, "Teacher, let's go back..."
Unfortunately, whether he didn't hear it or for some other reason, these words did not interrupt Yuan Xiangshan's earnest recitation in the slightest:
"I have heard of your deeds. In the imperial court of the capital, you spoke frankly and offended the emperor. Your integrity and uprightness have earned you praise from scholars in both the north and south, who call you a true gentleman."
"I quite admire this. Although there may be some youthful impulsiveness involved, this outspoken and remonstrating manner has not disgraced your senior officials in the Censorate."
"Ah, I am reminded of my days when I was still in the Ministry of Rites, when I dared to speak my mind and offer honest advice... You still have some of my former style."
Yuan Xiangshan nodded slightly, then changed the subject, his expression turning serious:
"But now, is it because you're disheartened by being demoted from the capital, or something else? Have you become a little lax? Let's leave aside the matter of leading Dalang astray for now and talk about your job."
"I've heard people in the prefecture talk about the large-scale water conservancy projects you did in Longcheng County. At the time, I thought you did a good job in disaster relief and water management, and that you were doing solid work for the people."
"But a couple of days ago, when I went out to the bookstore to buy books, guess what? I saw beggars begging along the street with my own eyes. Is this how you provide disaster relief?"
"The problem of food and clothing for the people of this county has not yet been solved, yet you turn to water management and hastily mobilize manpower and resources to build water conservancy projects. Isn't this putting the cart before the horse? Hey, as the magistrate of this county, how can you be so negligent?"
With two loud thuds, Yuan Xiangshan tapped his cane on the ground, his face, covered with age spots, showing a look of regret and remorse. He gave a stern warning.
In the back of the waterside pavilion, Yan Liulang, who was listening in out of boredom, thought that Su Dalang was just unlucky to have encountered a self-righteous "wise teacher." He thought that this octogenarian was just rambling on and on about how he liked to teach others. But he didn't expect that this Mr. Yuan would say such a thing.
I'm not afraid of your nonsense, I'm just afraid of your meddling and pointing fingers.
Yan Liulang was speechless and quickly looked at the young county magistrate in front of him.
Seeing his master's silent back, standing quietly with his sleeves tucked in, not uttering a word.
Yan Liulang had a bad feeling.
On the other side, Su Dalang, seeing his friend's expression, quickly turned to advise him:
"Teacher, please stop. We're laymen after all, Lianghan..."
Yuan Xiangshan shook his head and interrupted:
"It may not be pleasant to hear, but it's the truth, and it's for his own good."
The old man raised his hand to stroke his long beard, gazed at the pond outside the waterside pavilion, his face filled with melancholy, and sighed:
"Moreover, seeing the scene of the people begging two days ago, I was deeply moved and did not want to go to the bookstore anymore. I turned back halfway and wrote a parallel prose piece entitled 'Lament for the Disaster Victims'."
"I originally intended to use it to teach my eldest son and have him study it. It's quite a coincidence that you, the magistrate of Longcheng County, are here today, so you are the main person present. I have no intention of offending you, sir. It is just a humble suggestion. You can take a look."
After stroking his beard and finishing speaking, Yuan Xiangshan turned and gave the order:
"Brother, go and retrieve my 'Preface to the Lament for the Disaster Victims' and show it to the magistrate so he can offer some corrections."
Su Dalang looked troubled and did not move.
The pageboy, noticing a glance from Yuan Xiangshan, turned and fetched a scroll.
The waterside pavilion outside Juxian Garden seems to have often served as Su Dalang's place for lecturing and reading. On the stone table are calligraphy and other treasures such as brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones. Several pageboys quickly tidied up and made room, laying the scrolls flat on the stone table in the center of the waterside pavilion.
Parallel prose is characterized by its use of couplets throughout, emphasizing perfect parallelism and rhythmic cadence, and focusing on embellishment and allusions in its rhetoric.
It is a very popular literary style in the literary world today. In fact, it has been popular since the Northern and Southern Dynasties before the Wei Zhou and Li Gan periods. Even the imperial examinations that Ouyang Rong participated in required writing corresponding fu essays for the selection of officials.
Inside the waterside pavilion, seeing his disciple Su Dalang's face flushed red, Yuan Xiangshan waved his sleeve and added with an air of righteous indignation:
"I'm just a straightforward person, and there are some things I have to say, but it's all for the good of the people and the county government. I hope the magistrate won't take offense."
"Of course I won't mind."
Ouyang Rong, who had been silent since Yuan Xiangshan raised his objection, suddenly spoke up.
Yuan Xiangshan nodded with a satisfied expression, glanced at the stunned Su Dalang beside him, and opened his mouth as if to say a few words.
Ouyang Rong continued without stopping:
"But I am also a straightforward person, and there are some things I have to say, but it is all for the good of the senior. I will just say a few words and hope that the senior will not take offense."
Everyone was taken aback, and Yuan Xiangshan frowned as well, "What are you trying to say..."
Ouyang Rong asked curiously:
"How old were you when you got married, sir?"
Why ask this?
"Please answer, senior."
"I was fourteen years old when my father arranged my marriage."
"What was the old gentleman doing when he was twenty-three or twenty-four?"
Yuan Xiangshan said with a rather arrogant tone: "Hmph, I have already passed the imperial examination and am waiting to be selected as an official. I will enter the Ministry of Rites as an official in two years."
"While waiting for the Ministry of Personnel to select officials, at the age of twenty-three or twenty-four, one would mingle among the scholars of Luoyang, occasionally calling on friends and confidants to entertain guests, and even going to brothels and taverns to seek pleasure and get drunk, and to wield one's pen and ink..."
"When I was preparing for the imperial examination in Luoyang, all the senior scholars I saw were like this. Is this also the case for you, esteemed senior?"
"Not entirely the same, not as extravagant and dissolute as you young people these days... Wait, why are you asking this?"
Ouyang Rong asked calmly:
"Do you know how old Dalang is now?"
"Twenty-four years old (by Chinese reckoning)..."
Yuan Xiangshan paused, but before he could react, Ouyang Rong pointed directly at Su Dalang, then pointed towards the Juxian Garden study behind him and said loudly:
"Please take a close look at what kind of life Dalang, who is already twenty-four years old and has come of age, is living now."
"Let's not even talk about whether we drank any health-preserving teas during this trip. The old man keeps saying he's doing it for Dalang's own good, but he never considers Dalang's situation."
"You were already married at the age of fourteen, with plenty of energy. You passed the imperial examination at the age of twenty-three or twenty-four and enjoyed the prime of your life in the capital. But what about you, Dalang? You are at the peak of your energy, yet you are confined to this deep mansion all day long. You are surrounded by mountains and seas of books. You study hard by lamplight at night and your daytime is filled with homework. You are young and black-haired, but you are surrounded by white-haired old scholars."
"Even half a day of vacation a month is taken up by teachers and superiors. Have these senior colleagues ever considered Dalang's feelings?"
Inside the pavilion, the young man's words were forceful and resonant. The eldest son of the Su family stood there, stunned, while the white-haired old man with a cane looked bewildered, speechless and momentarily speechless, before hastily offering his explanation:
"I'm doing this for his own good..."
"Don't advise others to do good without experiencing their suffering yourself." Ouyang Rong stepped forward and interrupted:
"I don't expect the elders to empathize, but to directly use the authority of a teacher to suppress Dalang's true nature, under the guise of Dalang's parents' expectations, and to engage in such greenhouse practices, isn't that a bit too selfish?!"
"You...you...this old man didn't..."
"What do you mean, 'what do I mean'? Every single thing the senior did before was exactly like this. His so-called 'doing what is best for me and for the people of Longcheng' is exactly the same."
Ouyang Rong didn't even lift his eyelids:
"The senior colleague just said that he had previously developed a favorable impression of me because of other people's opinions of me, but later became disappointed in me after witnessing a beggar begging on the street. He even wrote a long article criticizing me after returning home halfway through his journey..."
"Oh, did the old master ask about the origins of the beggars on the street back then?"
"It is obvious that the elder did not know that these beggars were actually from other disaster-stricken counties!"
"It is precisely because the people of Longcheng County, which is also a disaster-stricken county, are doing well and have become well-known that they have attracted a continuous stream of disaster victims from surrounding counties."
"The older generation didn't know that these disaster victims who came every day would be sent to the disaster relief shelter in the suburbs before sunset."
"Even the older generation didn't know how many disaster relief camps were outside the city, or how much grain these camps consumed every day just by distributing rice for free. They didn't care or pay attention to any of this."
"The older generation only cared about whether the articles they wrote after taking a quick look outside were well-structured and rhythmically harmonious."
"Well, what do you mean by seeing is believing? Does that mean that just because you see the surface, you should consider it reality? That's no different from the blind men and the elephant. They're just blind and ignorant. They're even worse than the blind men and the elephant. At least the latter knew to do things themselves. They were just generalizing from a partial view. The old master didn't even get to the point."
"Is this how the old master became a wise teacher to Dalang?"
Ouyang Rong chuckled softly. Before anyone knew it, he had walked to the stone table and was looking down at the so-called "Preface to the Lament for the Disaster Victims" on the table as he spoke.
“You juniors…” Yuan Xiangshan leaned on his cane, stood up unsteadily, his lips trembling.
The young magistrate shook his head and said:
"The older generation is used to being blind to reality, standing on a high and mighty position, ignoring the facts, and talking at length. I am not used to that. I need to confirm things repeatedly before I speak."
"Just now, when I was reluctant to speak and wanted to carefully discern someone's true character, I felt the same way. Now, as I appreciate this 'heartfelt' masterpiece by the senior, I feel the same way."
As he spoke, Ouyang Rong pointed his index finger downwards at the parallel prose on the table, and with a sincere expression, mimicked what someone had just said:
"It may not be pleasant to hear, but it's the truth, and it's for the good of the senior. The senior's article... isn't very good, I'm a bit disappointed."
He said indifferently, "It is too much about the use of parallelism and flowery language, resulting in a vulgar and decadent style, and nothing more than pointless moaning."
Ouyang Rong was right. After reading it carefully several times, it was indeed a statement based on facts.
There are currently no Eight Great Masters or Classical Prose Movement in this world. The style of parallel prose popular in the literary circles of the Great Zhou Dynasty is a legacy from the Northern and Southern Dynasties.
This style of writing emphasizes parallelism and rhythm. However, due to the need to conform to sentence structure, it easily degenerates into piling up fancy words with little meaning and many words, which greatly affects the expression of content. In other words, it is all about showing off the writing style but having empty content.
Inside the waterside pavilion, Yuan Xiangshan was rendered speechless by what he had been said. He seemed a little anxious, his face flushed as he coughed.
"Teacher, please calm down..." Su Dalang quickly stepped forward and gently patted the teacher's hunched back.
Looking at the master and apprentice in front of him, and recalling what had happened today, Ouyang Rong suddenly remembered a classical Chinese text that he had a deep memory of.
Ouyang Rong shook his head and said:
"Is this the kind of article the old master used to teach Dalang? Then I, though I am not very talented, will also present Dalang with an article. I will not write in the style of parallel prose, but rather some meaningful words. This was given to me by a senior I met by chance. I have made some changes, so please excuse my poor performance."
Ouyang Rong stood by the table, laid out paper, ground ink, and rolled up his sleeves.
He casually picked up his pen and began to write, and in one stroke, a long and fluent article was completed.
"Liaozeng Dalang. Liulang, Ashan, let's go, let's not get in the way of that famous teacher any longer."
After putting down his pen, without waiting for the ink to dry, Ouyang Rong turned and walked out of the waterside pavilion.
Yan Liulang, Liu Ashan, and the others quickly followed.
Seeing this, Yuan Xiangshan pushed aside Su Dalang and his pageboy who were helping him, jumped up, and for some reason, even seemed a little agile. The old man chased after Ouyang Rong out of the waterside pavilion and jabbed his cane in the direction of Ouyang Rong's back.
"You brat, don't go! You're infuriating this old man! What exactly do you mean by this?"
"What's the meaning?"
Ouyang Rong said without turning his head:
"Still don't understand? The meaning is very simple: the student is a good student, but the teacher may not necessarily be a good teacher."
"Your elder brother is too respectful of his teachers and elders. You're used to bullying him, but don't even think about bullying me. You wouldn't understand the situation in Longcheng County anyway, so I won't trouble you to give me any advice."
Just as Mr. Yuan was stamping his feet in anger, a beautiful figure had been standing quietly listening for a long time on the long corridor not far from the waterside pavilion.
"Miss, should we try to persuade her..." A chubby-faced maidservant behind Qianying couldn't help but ask.
"Shh." Su Guo'er squinted at the tall, straight back.
Inside the waterside pavilion, Su Dalang, who was a step behind, stopped slowly as he passed the stone table. He looked down at the still-wet ink on the paper and murmured to himself, "I admire his ability to follow the ancient ways... I write this 'On Teachers' to give to him..."
Su Dalang couldn't help but look up, just like his sister in the corridor, silently watching the young magistrate's departing figure.
(End of this chapter)
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