CG Chapter 164: The Four Arts of Scholars
To ascend the ranks of governance as a courtier, one must know which master to please and the exact process of that pleasure. Still, it was the way of the world that one rarely served a single master, as fate often tethered a man to many.
Taking the imperial court as an example, particularly within its lower, suffocating strata, one had to cultivate the favor not only with the emperor but also of the countless courtiers who prowled the halls.
Yet, it was often more vital to court the favor of those who shared the imperial bed. For the sake of a sweet whisper between the sheets, even the mightiest emperor would succumb to the cold smoothness of silk.
Aretius found himself in the center of a karmic conflict. He had to secure the patriarch's trust while ensuring he wouldn't be perceived as a flickering shadow of an obstacle to his grand plans.
He needed to provide an escape for the Young Master while keeping him a prisoner in the eyes of the warden.
Aretius's new "master," Wei Lian, might have been the youngest of the trio of masters.
Yet, he bore a weight far heavier than his eldest brother's. The primary reason behind this was a cruel twist of fate. The eldest sons of the Wei patriarch were both born of concubines, possessing a lower bloodline, that was deemed unworthy.
This meant that while they might have been acknowledged by the patriarch himself, the grace of nobility wouldn't descend upon their heads.
Furthermore, Wei Lian's maternal roots reached into the Ji Clan, the second most formidable power in the Wei Ji village.
Thus, the burden of claiming the Wei Clan through imperial merit fell on none other than the third son, Wei Lian. These circumstances formed a Golden Cage that the boy sought to flee.
With all of these pieces lying in front of his gaze, Aretius understood that he needed to show talent in the Four Arts without attracting any suspicion.
The Four Arts, or better known as the Four Arts of Scholars, were the four main pillars and artistic talents required of the aristocratic ancient scholar.
If swords were the weapons of martial arts, then these four were the tools that scholars would use to climb the ranking and compete with each other. They were the arts of the Zither music, Go board, calligraphy, and painting.
The fortunate reality was that he had already mastered these four to a level beyond the comprehension of anyone in this place; if he claimed himself second, no one would dare claim to be first.
Yet, the question remained: how could he reveal his talents at such an advanced, withered age?
...
A few days drifted by like mist.
After their last encounter, one might expect that the interactions between the two would come to an end.
However, Aretius's decision to halt midway before the story reached its climax acted like a hook in the Young Master's heart, pulling his mind into a strange fever.
During those days, Wei Lian acted with a mask of nonchalance. He would slip away from the watchful gaze of his maid to listen to some stories from the old man.
Tales of the Jianghu flowed from the old man's mouth as if he himself were once such a hero.
These were all lies, a combination of widespread rumors and some folklore. After adding a sparkle of skillful storytelling, it created a realistic dream; more importantly, it was truly captivating to listen to.
Once the first word took root, you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from begging for the next.
At the same time, the duo of the Young Master and the old servant became more familiar, as if they had known each other for myriad years.
The time passed quickly, but Aretius knew that he had only fulfilled a small part of his role.
The next act was to display his talent and rightfully step into the patriarch's sights before completely shedding his role and escaping this cage.
"Young Master, have you heard of the Four Arts before?" Aretius asked in a faint, not too eager tone.
This question made the excited Wei Lian feel half annoyed and half betrayed. Was it not enough that his tutors would drill the importance of these four into his ears? Now, even this servant wanted to talk about the Four Arts? Four Arts this and Four Arts that. What was so good about them anyway?
With his brows furrowed in annoyance, he replied, "The patriarch has always noted their importance and why I should excel in all four to be a proper minister."
Thinking about his words, he continued with bitterness, "Nevertheless, I see no use in being skillful with a brush if you can't hold a sword. Even the most perceptive of ministers would be no better than nameless commoners after facing the edge of a martial artist's blade."
Instead of feeling disappointed at Wei Lian's refusal, Aretius merely smiled. For one, if he were open to learning, then there would be no need for him. More importantly, however, was that he had already expected that exact reaction from him.
Men tend to hold prejudices about a subject they haven't truly experienced, and instead of becoming eager to learn, they try their utmost to justify their own ideals. Thus, one must know how to guide them while not pushing them away.
One such path would be framing, which was akin to disguising the bitter medicine as candied hawthorn.
"Not bad, Young Master. Unfortunately, that is but the view of commoners regarding the Four Arts."
Once these words came out of his mouth, the air grew heavy, becoming stagnant akin to that of a muddy pond.
A servant, no matter how familiar, daring to compare his lord to a commoner?
Still, Aretius wasn't foolish enough to do anything that would harm his cause. So, for what reason would he say such a thing?
He ordered in a heavy tone that revealed the arrogance ingrained deep into his bones as the young master of a powerful clan, "Explain yourself!"
Aretius didn't seem affected as he continued with calmness, "The rich study literature, the poor study martial arts. This is one of the most widely spread truths in the Jianghu, Young Master."
Wei Lian's rage was about to reach a zenith, and the relationship Aretius worked so hard to build seemed about to crumble to nothing at any moment.
His eyes met Aretius's with the same gaze he gave his tutors; to him, Aretius must have been but another of his father's people, another jailer.
When one questions his master, he either becomes a trusted person or becomes a castaway.
Smiling toward him, he repeated, "The rich study literature, the poor study martial arts," before saying, "I disagree with that truth!"