My Wife Is A Sword Immortal-Chapter 63 - 53 Wenruo Horse Racing
Chapter 63: Chapter 53 Wenruo Horse Racing
The crescent moon was like a hook, and beneath it, atop a tall building, three people conspired in secret.
Lin Wenruo spoke unhurriedly, his words were concise yet rich in meaning.
His gentle voice reached only the ears of Zhao Rong and Chen Muzhi. Once it drifted out of the building, it was shattered by the strong wind, dissipating into the night.
The rules of the Confucianism debate were simple.
Each side had three people, one against one, in three rounds of philosophical discourse, with the side winning the most rounds emerging victorious.
Each round of discourse had a host and a guest. The host side put forward their view and made a statement, while the guest side posed challenges, the so-called “difficult questions,” to refute the host’s viewpoint.
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The viewpoints of both sides were opposed, true or false, so whatever viewpoint the host side chose, the guest side had to take the opposing stance.
Both sides questioned and refuted each other’s viewpoints, defending their own until the end, deciding the winner.
Impartial judges were present on the scene, and below the stage, a crowd of over a hundred thousand citizens, along with numerous hermits and famous persons from Zhongnan who were adept at discourse, gathered. Thus, sophistry and shamelessness had no place; under the watchful eyes of the crowd, who was strong and who was weak, whose reasoning was superior and whose was faulty, all was clear at a glance.
As for how the host and guest sides of each debate round were arranged.
Lin Wenruo chose the right to select people first, meaning that for the first round of discourse, Lin Wenruo’s side would send out one person to proactively choose one of the three from Chongxu Temple to engage in discourse. However, Lin Wenruo’s side would be the guest while the person from Chongxu Temple who was chosen would be the host, with the host throwing out the point of view to be countered by the guest.
Chongxu Temple’s side then had the right to choose for the second round of discourse and the host right for the third round.
In the second round, they would dispatch one person to select someone from Lin Wenruo’s side for discourse, and they would be the guest, with the selected person as the host. By the third round, there would be no need for selection, as each side would only have one person left. However, it would be Chongxu Temple’s side to take the host position and choose the topic of debate.
Having explained the rules, Lin Wenruo looked around at the two.
Chen Muzhi’s face showed confusion. His feather fan paused, “Wenruo, why grant Chongxu Temple the host right twice? Just for us to pick someone ourselves in the first round?”
After listening, Lin Wenruo’s lips curled into a smile, but he said nothing.
Zhao Rong had been listening attentively with his eyes downcast. Suddenly, he lifted his eyelids and stopped hitting the railing with his hand, turning to Lin Wenruo, “Is it for the sake of Tian Ji’s horse racing strategy?”
Lin Wenruo asked with curiosity, “What is Tian Ji’s horse racing strategy?”
Chen Muzhi also looked on curiously.
Zhao Rong contemplated briefly and then, after slightly altering the background of the story, narrated it to the two.
The story of Tian Ji’s horse racing was easy to understand: it involved three rounds of horse races, taking one’s lower-ranked horses against the opponent’s higher-ranked ones, one’s higher-ranked horses against the opponent’s mid-ranked ones, and finally, one’s mid-ranked horses against the opponent’s lower-ranked ones. This strategy aimed to play to one’s strengths and avoid weaknesses, cleverly securing victory.
Chen Muzhi’s gaze at Zhao Rong intensified. He had read extensively, yet he had never heard this story before. A simple best-of-three horse race could yield such profound and far-reaching insight, and he couldn’t help but regard Zhao Rong with renewed interest.
However, what did this have to do with the current Confucian debate? Granted, the rules of this debate were far more complex than a simple horse race. Chen Muzhi remained puzzled, but seeing Zhao Rong and Lin Wenruo exchange knowing smiles, he refrained from asking more, not wishing to appear ignorant.
Meanwhile, Zhao Rong had just finished summarizing the story of Tian Ji’s horse racing strategy when Lin Wenruo suddenly laughed, his eyes sparkling brightly, “No one understands me better than Ziyu.”
Lin Wenruo nodded slightly and reorganized his thoughts, then said with a smile, “Let us also stage a horse race.”
“So far, we know the identities of two of the three participants from Chongxu Temple in the Confucian debate. One is the State Preceptor, Lan Zhongdao, with the Taoist name Qingxuan. Like me, he must participate, and his level of proficiency in discourse is hardly a secret in Zhongnan Country. He enjoys discourse indeed, but in the circles of Luojing, he ranks just below average. I have carefully investigated this and collected all the transcripts of the discourses he participated in, confirming that it is not an Eye-blocking Technique. Against any of us three, his level is rather ordinary,” said Lin Wenruo with the corner of his mouth curved.
“The other person is named Zhang Dongxu, with the Taoist name Qing Yuanzi, Qingxuan’s elder Taoist brother. According to my sources, he spent years traveling abroad and later resided in a small Southern Country for Cultivation, returning to Chongxu Temple just a few days ago. Initially, in Zhongnan Country, his discourse proficiency was indeed high, and his travels further increased his skill, but…”
Lin Wenruo smiled faintly, “Qingchi thoroughly perused all his handwritten manuscripts that circulated after his participation in elegant gatherings and intellectual debates within Zhongnan Country, leaving nothing out. Furthermore, he has collected many of his debate manuscripts from recent years. His debate style, good and bad points of his metaphysics, Qingxuan knows them like the back of his hand and will surely defeat him.”
Zhao Rong squinted his eyes and thought for a moment, feeling that what Lin Wenruo said was indeed reasonable. In his previous life in university, he had been on the debate team during the first two years and was familiar with such intellectual debates. He knew that if one’s debate style was understood in advance, along with their language habits and knowledge gaps, after being thoroughly researched, one would fall into a very passive situation.
According to what Zhao Rong understood, Lin Wenruo was naturally skilled in both Mingjing and intellectual debates. Being targeted by such an opponent was indeed unfortunate.
Lin Wenruo continued slowly, “As for the third person from Chongxu Temple, for now, we do not know who he is, a mysterious elder, but he’s not a concern anymore. Let’s prepare for the worst-case scenario. Let’s say this elder is Chongxu’s upper horse, and Qing Yuanzi is the middle horse, while the remaining Qingjingzi is undoubtedly the lower horse. We will use the method of racing horses as mentioned by Ziyu to deal with them.”
After Lin Wenruo finished speaking, he paused, glanced at Zhao Rong and Chen Muzhi from left to right—the former with a calm expression, the latter slowly nodding.
Lin Wenruo spoke seriously, “Our arrangement is for Qingchi to boldly play the role of the upper horse. As for the middle horse…”
Lin Wenruo’s gaze drifted over the two men before him.
Chen Muzhi’s mouth curled into a smile, gently shaking his feather fan, his face full of anticipation.
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Zhao Rong glanced at the solemn Lin Wenruo, then turned his head to look towards the distant horizon where a stone inscription stood out against the sky.
Lin Wenruo straightened his robe, took a step back, and bowed to someone in front.
“I’ll have to ask Brother Ziyu to take this on!”
This was a bow of significant respect.
Zhao Rong raised his eyebrows in response.
Chen Muzhi’s movements faltered, his expression quite unnatural.
Based on what he had just learned, the role of the lower horse was to lose on purpose, specifically to clash with the rival’s upper horse—the kind of one-way sacrifice.
Although the role of the lower horse was also significant, perhaps the most substantial, since it would take down the most formidable upper horse on the other side, the experience was extremely unpleasant. After all, anyone could play the losing part—losing is easy. Who doesn’t know how to do that?
Chen Muzhi licked his dry lips, struggling to maintain his dignity. He, the current Great Scholar of Zhongshan Country, who even held some fame within the entire northern literary circle of Wangque Continent, was now to play the least important tool horse, one that might not even get the chance to enter the fray…
Chen Muzhi’s heart was heavy, despite considering himself broad-minded, he felt at this moment the urge to leave in a huff. However, Lin Wenruo had already predicted his reaction.
Lin Wenruo looked apologetic, grabbed Chen Muzhi’s sleeve, and spoke earnestly, “Brother Muzhi, the most crucial task now lies with you. Without your help to stall the opposing upper horse, we will surely lose. The Lin family of Lanxi and the Chen family of Zhongshan have been allies for generations. Just like Qingchi’s elder brother, please be sure to assist Qingchi.”
Lin Wenruo patted Chen Muzhi’s hand, “Should the Lin family of Lanxi be fortunate enough to remain in Zhongnan Country afterwards, Qingchi will be sure to offer a generous reward!”
Having said that, Lin Wenruo gave another bow.
Chen Muzhi saw that Lin Wenruo’s demeanor was genuinely apologetic. With a corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Zhao Rong looking elsewhere with an expressionless face, not scoffing at him. He sighed slightly, nodded his head, then reached out to support him, “Please get up quickly, Wenruo. There is no need for such ceremonies. I have not refused.”
Indeed, his acceptance to join in this debate of Confucianism was partly due to the friendship between the two families, and also for the sake of gaining fame. Although he did not care for power, he was fond of reputation. If he could participate in the debate, overcoming the opponents and helping the Lin family of Lanxi to victory, his name would surely become known throughout the surrounding countries, high and low. Just that now, it seemed quite a pity.
Thinking this, Chen Muzhi sighed, unable to help but take another look at that young scholar leaning against the railing, elbows resting on the balustrade, arms hanging down, head tilted gazing into the distance, wondering who he was that made Lin Wenruo, this proud offspring of Siqi Academy, place such importance on him.
Before he could decide whether to approach the Confucian scholar and greet him, a statement carried by the evening breeze arrived, startling him, and even Lin Wenruo was noticeably surprised.
“Wenruo, let Brother Muzhi play the middle horse instead.”
