The Fourth Debate

Li Junzi withdrew her gaze, yet under the watchful eyes of the crowd, she slowly rose to her feet.

With Cui Hao’s exceptionally smooth opening, it was clear that Li Junzi’s side had come fully prepared for this debate, likely intending to settle the outcome in this very session.

Outside the Hall of Debate, numerous students fixed their eyes on Li Junzi. While the outcome of this debate mattered to them, it was not the most crucial thing. What held greater importance was the opportunity to hear the deeper insights of these great scholars, to resolve the doubts and uncertainties in their own hearts—this was what truly mattered to them as students still on the path of learning.

The students listened attentively not only to the scholars of Chen Wenqian’s lineage but also to the perspectives of Li Junzi, another esteemed scholar.

There exists a curious phenomenon in the world—people with entirely different temperaments can still arrive at the same truth.

Truth is universal, unaffected by personality or gender.

Moreover, Li Junzi’s unconventional ideas served as a challenge and validation of their own studies.

Had these students been left to face Li Junzi’s arguments alone, defeat would have been inevitable.

For the scholars of Gentleman Mountain, respect for their predecessors was absolute, even when their philosophies diverged.

Chen Wenqian’s expression was equally solemn.

If the debate over "a white horse is not a horse" was merely the appetizer, what formidable move would Li Junzi unleash as the main debater?

Li Junzi stood, her gaze sweeping past Chen Wenqian before settling on the many students outside the window.

She spoke softly, "For a Confucian cultivator, wielding the brush requires reading, expanding knowledge requires reading, comprehending principles requires reading, and aspiring to become a great scholar demands diligent and fervent reading."

"To become a great scholar, one must not only read but also immerse oneself in the wisdom of the Sage..."

"Yet this so-called immersion... can only be gleaned from books, for the Sage is long gone, and his teachings survive only in texts."

"Confucian scholars are not immortal cultivators; their lifespans are not so vast. Some spend their entire lives without even attaining the rank of a Confucian scholar, let alone anything greater."

"Books contain principles, books hold truths. The Sage’s words pierced the heavens and ignited the flame of civilization—this is true."

"But if all truths are derived from books, how can you be certain of their validity?"

Li Junzi did not look at Chen Wenqian. Instead, her eyes remained fixed on the earnest students outside as she continued,

"Is it because these truths are written in books? Or because the Sage proclaimed them?"

"Have you ever felt doubt in your hearts—should it really be this way?"

"Naturally, reading is not wrong. Books contain worlds—this is also true."

"But beyond the worlds within books, have you truly observed the world outside?"

"Have you ever tested these principles in practice? Or do you simply defer to 'the book says so'?"

"I once lived in a small village—a tiny, remote place where most would never learn to read a single character in their lifetimes."

"Of course, they knew nothing of the Sage’s teachings. I speak not of the adults, only the children. Some were prone to violence, others to petty theft."

"When I asked why, the most common answer was that some people were simply born wicked."

"But upon closer inquiry, I found that those drawn to violence had endured bullying since childhood, while those who stole did so out of hunger."

"None of these reasons justified their actions, of course."

"Most lives are inherently difficult, yet the Sage’s principles, in my eyes, seem too lofty."

"My mentor said I wasted over a decade of my life in that village, but I cannot fully agree."

"There, I learned the most important lesson—some things can only be understood through doing."

"I read books on raising chickens, yet still lost many to my inexperience. I studied manuals on growing vegetables, yet watched crop after crop wither."

"Perhaps you would say I hadn’t read deeply enough, but by then, I was already a Confucian scholar—how could I have treated the texts carelessly?"

"Only after countless dead chickens and failed harvests did I master the craft. Most of what the books said was correct, and I came to agree wholeheartedly—yet books are not infallible. A single oversight can undo all effort."

"Thus, I arrived at a realization."

"Many things in this world can only be understood through action, not mere reading."

"These words pertain to scholarship, yet also transcend it. I do not address them to Dean Chen, but to you, the earnest students before me. Whether you accept them is for your hearts to decide."

"Books are but references—even the Sage’s works are no exception."

As Li Junzi’s voice faded, she clasped her hands and bowed to the students outside the window.

The students outside the hall quickly rose in unison, responding loudly:

"We thank Teacher Li for her guidance."

Li Junzi straightened, her gaze shifting to Chen Wenqian.

Chen Wenqian’s expression was inscrutable. His clouded eyes flickered with an indescribable light—admiration, regret, and acknowledgment.

He gave a slight bow.

Li Junzi returned the gesture, then spoke calmly:

"I concede defeat in this fourth debate."

Her words struck like thunder.

Silence engulfed the hall.

Cui Hao and Lin Luoyu stared in stunned disbelief.

Even Daoist Yuyang, who had remained impassive throughout, furrowed his brow slightly, his eyes fixed on Li Junzi.

He did not understand—why concede when victory was within reach?

Only Chu Xingchen’s expression remained unreadable.

Chen Wenqian, too, was taken aback. He raised a hand as if to speak, but no words came. Countless questions lodged in his throat.

A faint smile touched Li Junzi’s lips.

"I am still lacking. Some truths I seem to grasp, yet do not fully understand. Even if I won this debate, it would only leave me with half-baked knowledge."

"Whether a white horse is a horse—see it with your own eyes, touch it with your own hands, and the answer is plain."

"I wish to continue the fifth debate, but I must ask the Dean to postpone it—perhaps five years, perhaps ten, perhaps twenty."

"I must go into the world and ask whether my principles are true or false, right or wrong. Once I have sought the answers and grasped them fully, I shall return for that fifth debate."

Chen Wenqian lowered his hand, then suddenly laughed heartily, his gaze now filled with pure admiration for Li Junzi.

He accepted gladly, declaring in a clear voice:

"This old man may not live another twenty years, but twenty years hence, a new Dean shall await your debate."

Li Junzi smiled and nodded, then turned to leave.

Seeing this, Chen Wenqian quickly called out, "There is one more matter I wish to trouble you with, Teacher Li."

Li Junzi paused. "What is it?"

Chen Wenqian spoke solemnly, "I ask that you leave your calligraphy in the Hall of Debate as a legacy."

Li Junzi looked surprised. "But I am no longer a great scholar..."

Never before had anyone below the rank of great scholar left their brushwork in the Hall of Debate.

Chen Wenqian declared loudly:

"Who dares say Teacher Li is not a great scholar?"

Before his words fully faded, voices rose from outside the window in unison:

"Who dares say Teacher Li is not a great scholar!"

Li Junzi offered no further refusal. "Then I shall humbly oblige."

As she reached for the brush on the table, a writing tool suddenly darted through the air, its pristine glow shimmering gently before her.

The aura of noble virtue and literary brilliance intertwined.

Once again, silence fell over the hall.

Since the passing of the Demi-Sage, the Broken Quill has not written a single word.