Chapter Thirteen: Ma Wencai, the Hero of a Turbulent Era

“What!” Mar Wen-cai was furious upon hearing this. With a wave of his hand, he signaled those behind him to follow. “Let’s go, see what’s going on!” At his gesture, the group rose as one and surged toward the classroom in a grand procession—the main force of the revolutionaries had arrived.

From a distance, the clear, melodious sound of reading echoed from the lecture hall. Ascending the stairs, they found Xie Daoyun lecturing, the seats filled to capacity with the very women who had stopped working. Mar Wen-cai’s face darkened immediately.

“Silence!” Liu Xiangdong stepped forward and barked, causing the recitation to falter. “You lowly women dare take our seats? Get out of here!”

“You left first; since you’ve already left, why come back now?” Zhu Yingtai retorted coolly, rising to her feet.

“We’re here to drive you out!” Liu Xiangdong replied coldly. “How dare you base people sit here! The refined and the vulgar cannot share the same space!”

“Who’s refined and who’s vulgar isn’t so clear,” Zhu Yingtai shot back again.

“They all have a thirst for knowledge,” Liang Shanbo smiled calmly and stood as well. “If you refuse to listen to Mr. Xie and give up your seats, what harm is there in letting them sit?”

“A thirst for knowledge? Do they even deserve it?” Mar Wen-cai sneered with a curled lip. “Even if our seats were empty and covered in cobwebs, it wouldn’t be their turn to sit.”

“Mar Wen-cai, you—” Zhu Yingtai was about to protest but was silenced by a sharp glare from Mar Wen-cai.

“Mar Wen-cai, don’t be so cruel. This isn’t your magistrate’s mansion for you to run wild!” I couldn’t stand it anymore. How could someone be so domineering and petty as a man? It’s truly—sigh! Luckily, I’m the younger brother of the Secretary.

“Liu Yiqing, I advise you to mind your own business, or even your elder brother won’t have time to save you,” Mar Wen-cai warned, turning his head aside and commanding those behind him, “Attack!”

The men behind Mar Wen-cai immediately rushed forward, causing everyone seated to scatter in panic. Mar Wen-cai charged ahead and overturned the table in front of Wang Hui, who screamed in fright and nearly fell.

I was about to help Wang Hui when I saw Wang Lantian already standing with a murderous gleam in his narrowed eyes. I hurriedly grabbed his arm. “Brother Lantian, don’t be impulsive.”

Wang Lantian glanced at me unwillingly and stepped back. I rushed up to Mar Wen-cai, ready to scold him, but he kicked two cushions toward me. Luckily, I was quick and dodged, and the cushions landed hard at the feet of the headmaster.

The headmaster’s face was stern as he looked at Mar Wen-cai. “Mar Wen-cai, I haven’t even had time to investigate yesterday’s incident, and today you’re causing trouble again?”

The group found their savior and hurriedly saluted the headmaster. Mar Wen-cai hesitated for a moment, then slowly clasped his hands and bowed, “Headmaster.”

The headmaster was full of anger. “Mar Wen-cai, don’t you care about your ranking? If you don’t attend Mr. Xie’s class, how will you ever make the list?”

Seeing a slight softening in Mar Wen-cai’s expression, Zhu Yingtai called after him, “Mar Wen-cai, stop throwing a tantrum and apologize to Mr. Xie. Beg his forgiveness.”

A tantrum? Zhu Yingtai actually interpreted Mar Wen-cai’s behavior as a tantrum? Ha! This young master Mar really does have quite the temper.

Reluctantly, Mar Wen-cai slowly turned around, flicked his sleeve, then knelt on one knee and bowed to Xie Daoyun: “Student Mar Wen-cai acted rashly just now and insulted the teacher. I now apologize sincerely.”

I stood aside with a sneer. A nobleman’s knees are said to be worth gold, yet Mar Wen-cai knelt out of concern for his ranking. He was no more than a worldly man. I had thought his disdain for officialdom meant he rejected such trivialities.

“No need for apologies. What matters is knowing right from wrong. You may rise,” Xie Daoyun said firmly but without making things difficult for Mar Wen-cai. Mar Wen-cai nodded. “Thank you, Teacher Xie.”

After the headmaster left, Master Chen lingered behind, watching Mr. Xie teach us chess. Master Chen was strange—yesterday he looked furious at Xie Daoyun, but today he seemed to have changed his tune. I realized the moods of people in ancient times shifted too quickly.

In the first game, Liu Xiangdong violated the rules and was ridiculed by Mr. Xie for his careless and unmethodical play. He left the stage in a huff.

That Liu Xiangdong was truly an ignorant fool. He didn’t even know where to place the first piece. I wondered how his father had taught him.

In the second round, Mar Wen-cai faced Xie Daoyun. Mar Wen-cai’s skill was exquisite—step by step, he pressed, encircling his opponent—but in the end, black stones were completely trapped by Xie Daoyun. Unexpectedly, Mar Wen-cai deliberately walked into a dead end, smiling as he said, “I am placing myself in a desperate position to find new life.”

I was dumbfounded watching from the side. Could this really work? I had studied Go at the History Academy but had never seen anything so brilliant. I must learn more ancient skills—they might come in handy, and maybe one day I could even become a professor.

In this game, Xie Daoyun narrowly defeated Mar Wen-cai by two stones. Xie Daoyun smiled and said, “Young Master Mar, your skill is superb; your moves bold and resolute, strategy and tactics top-notch. I suppose you have studied military strategy since childhood?”

Mar Wen-cai replied humbly, “Teacher flatters me. Martial arts and horsemanship are the foundation of a strong nation; military strategy is the path to promotion. Naturally, I cannot neglect them.”

Xie Daoyun smiled slightly, then his expression grew serious. “But Young Master Mar’s deployment is too ruthless, disregarding the lives of soldiers, seeking only swift victory. As the saying goes, one general’s success means the sacrifice of countless bones.”

Mar Wen-cai smiled calmly. “Playing chess is like commanding troops. To secure victory, what does sacrificing a few soldiers matter?”

“Cruel!” Zhu Yingtai muttered softly nearby.

Liang Shanbo responded, “Brother Wen-cai, that’s mistaken. All people are born of their parents and deserve equal regard. War inevitably brings casualties, but we must not recklessly waste the lives of soldiers.”

Xie Daoyun’s face darkened as he glanced at Mar Wen-cai, then said, “Heroes in chaotic times are also heroes in times of peace.”

“Hahaha!” Mar Wen-cai laughed heartily, then said coldly, “Thank you for the teacher’s generous praise. I will wholeheartedly strive to fulfill your evaluation.”

Mar Wen-cai stood and strode away, flicking his sleeves.

Xie Daoyun’s assessment of Mar Wen-cai as a hero was a double-edged compliment—though fitting, I disagreed with Liang Shanbo’s opinion. Recklessly wasting lives? Nonsense. “Teacher, I believe that the battlefield requires the kind of strategy Brother Wen-cai possesses. Without ruthlessness, one cannot hold firm. War brings only suffering to the people; without seeking swift victory, how can we bring peace and prosperity?”