The teachers and students of the academy began to frantically flee up the mountain, trampling underfoot everything they supposedly held dear: respect for teachers, rites, and morality. Elderly Instructors and prominent scholars were trampled by their own students. The bonds of fellowship were reduced to unceremoniously shoving aside anyone who dared block their path. The plaque, bearing the calligraphy of the current Prime Minister, had lost its protective power. It had been tossed to the ground and was already cracked from being trampled.
Some words, some slogans, are fine to shout for oneself; clever people know not to take them to heart. But the foolish? They brainwash themselves. When the blade truly fell, dreams shattered. The veil of false beauty was slashed open, revealing the ugly face hidden beneath—one's own.
From spurring his horse forward to the swing of his blade, Zheng Fan had maintained a calm demeanor.
