No time to write right now. To keep my attendance record, I'll just copy this for now and update with a new chapter the day after tomorrow.

In a moment of desperation, the middle-aged man was about to make a move. But the Academy’s administration would not indulge them. A staff member stepped forward and snorted coldly, “Private fighting within the Academy is forbidden. Anyone who does so will have their cultivation abolished and will be barred from ever entering the Academy again. Yan Zhong, have you thought this through?”

Hearing this, Yan Zhong had no choice but to stop, his expression darkening as he glared at the young man from Chu. “Dare you tell me your name?”

The young man laughed heartily. “Why wouldn’t I? I am Xiong Huai of Chu. And what of it?”

Well, now—it was clear these two were not ordinary men.

Yan Zhong, surnamed Yan from Qi, was most likely a descendant of the famed Yan Ying—the very Yan Zi immortalized in the “Annals of Master Yan.” To be granted the title “Zi” spoke volumes about his cultivation; he was surely a sage in his own right. Yet, which path Yan Zi himself cultivated remained a mystery.

As for Xiong Huai, he was certainly a royal of Chu. In truth, when Wang Yu heard the name Xiong Huai, a shiver ran through him. Wasn’t this the future King Huai of Chu? Considering his identity, Wang Yu couldn’t help glancing at Wei Wuji.

He found it puzzling—why did these princes from royal families always love to wander about? Were they not afraid someone might simply kill them? Even if not killed, being kidnapped and used to coerce their fathers could yield considerable benefit for the captor.

Wei Wuji noticed Wang Yu’s odd look. “Hongjian, why are you looking at me like that?”

Wang Yu tutted, “Wuji, do you not know who this Xiong Huai is?”

Wei Wuji shot Wang Yu a curious glance. “Of course I know. He’s the Prince of Chu. What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong, indeed? Wang Yu was at a loss. “Wuji, don’t you princes fear for your lives, roaming about like this?”

Wei Wuji immediately understood Wang Yu’s concern and laughed. “Hongjian, perhaps you’ve forgotten the Son of Heaven’s decree.”

Son of Heaven’s decree? What was that?

Seeing Wang Yu’s blank expression, Wei Wuji explained, “The Son of Heaven once summoned all the feudal lords and issued a law: before a prince ascends his father’s throne, no one from any other state is permitted to harm him. Otherwise, all under heaven will unite in condemnation. Now do you understand?”

Good heavens! The King of Zhou actually issued such a law?

Was the Son of Heaven out of his mind? These feudal states had long regarded him as a puppet, and yet he would issue an imperial edict to protect their sons? Had he taken leave of his senses?

Shouldn’t he have encouraged them to kill each other, quietly biding his time and gathering strength, so he could one day sweep away the feudal lords and restore the Ji family’s rule? Wang Yu truly could not comprehend such an approach.

Wei Wuji seemed to perceive Wang Yu’s thoughts and smiled serenely. “You think the Son of Heaven’s move is foolish, don’t you?”

Wang Yu nodded.

“Then you are mistaken. This move can only be described as most profound.”

Profound? Was Wei Wuji being sarcastic?

“Having trouble understanding?” Wei Wuji asked.

Wang Yu nodded—he indeed could not grasp it.

Wei Wuji, with a look of reminiscence, said, “Truth be told, I once thought as you did, but later my father explained it to me. Even he couldn’t quite see through the Son of Heaven’s intentions, but he was certain it was no blunder. Since the law was enacted, the feudal states have shown the Son of Heaven much greater respect than before; many small states have even resumed paying tribute. Isn’t that curious?”

Wang Yu pondered—if what Wei Wuji said was true, the King of Zhou was certainly no fool. To prompt small states to resume tribute under such circumstances was no small feat. The Son of Heaven’s authority had long since been eroded by the great powers; to claw any of it back was remarkable. Clearly, this strategy was effective, though Wang Yu remained uncertain how it was implemented in practice.

Regardless, all the feudal lords owed the Son of Heaven a favor. No one wanted their sons constantly targeted by assassins. Wang Yu still couldn’t fully grasp the brilliance of the move, but that didn’t matter now. There were more interesting things to watch.

Xiong Huai’s words were anything but polite, and Yan Zhong was fuming. In truth, to be a descendant of Yan Zi was no less distinguished than being a prince.

Yan Zhong glared at Xiong Huai, his face as dark as thunder. “Xiong Huai, is it? Since private fighting is forbidden in the Academy, do you have the courage to compete with me in debate? Let me witness for myself the bearing of a prince of Chu.”

Xiong Huai, far from intimidated, replied at once, “That suits me perfectly. Once my younger brother finishes on the Debate Platform, we shall take our turn.”

Yan Zhong’s face grew even gloomier. “So you do not fear battle! Very well. Let me see what reason can be found among so-called southern barbarians.”

Xiong Huai merely laughed, ignoring Yan Zhong’s taunt.

Fortunately, at that moment, the man on the Debate Platform began to demonstrate his philosophy.

The one standing on the platform was none other than Qu Yuan, the immortal poet whose name would echo through the ages. Xiong Huai had called Qu Yuan his younger brother because Qu Yuan, too, was of the Chu royal line—a descendant of Qu Xia, son of King Wu of Chu, Xiong Tong. Thus, he was addressed as a younger brother, though in truth he was a clan brother rather than a blood brother. Nonetheless, the two had been close since childhood, closer than most real brothers.

As for why Qu Yuan would seek enlightenment on the Academy’s Debate Platform, it was mainly a matter of convenience. He had come to study at the Academy, this sacred ground, and inspiration had struck him on the way. Having set his path, he now took the opportunity to use the Debate Platform for his breakthrough.

By now, Qu Yuan had composed himself and was beginning his demonstration, invoking a response from the heavens and earth.

He began with the “Heavenly Questions”:

At the dawn of time, who passed down the Way?
When all was yet unformed, how can we examine it?
In the dimness and confusion, who can fathom the depths?
When forms were shaped only by the wind’s wings, how might they be known?
In brightness and darkness, what purpose did time serve?
When yin and yang merged thrice, what was their source, what their transformation?
The circle of heaven has nine layers—who measured and set them?
These achievements—who performed them first?
Where does the axle of the firmament anchor, and where does the pole of the sky rest?
Of the eight pillars, what do they uphold, and where do the southeast quarters fail?
Where at the edge of the nine heavens are things placed and assigned?
The hidden corners are many—who knows their number?
Where does the sky end? How is it divided into twelve?
Where do sun and moon belong? Where are the stars arrayed?
Emerging from the Valley of Hot Springs, they pass through Mengfan—
From dawn to dusk, how far do they travel?
What virtue has the night light, that it dies and is reborn?
What benefit is there, that the rabbit is kept in the belly?
Nüqi has no mate—how did she bear nine sons?
Where is Boqiang? Where is the spirit of favor?
What closes and brings darkness? What opens for light?
Before the Horn Mansion rises, where does the shining spirit hide?
If one cannot surpass the flood, how can the master honor it?
All say, “Why worry?”—why not test and put it into action?
...

As Qu Yuan intoned each question to the heavens, the spirit that yearned to seek the principles governing all creation, the causes of rise and fall, the rewards of virtue and evil, the truths of gods and ghosts, began to spread outward. The mood that emanated from him possessed the harmonizing flavor of a hundred schools, the correcting force of various philosophies.

It was the very embodiment of that sentiment: “The road ahead will be long and arduous; I will search high and low.” This was the perfect display of a seeker of the Way.

This was Qu Yuan’s Dao!