Unwittingly Becoming the Queen Wasp of the Scholars - 4
The public debate wrapped up without a hitch.
Uncle Gongming had stepped out with Lady Huang for some parent-teacher conferencing, while Xu Shu and the other two were thrilled about winning their bet.
I figured Ma Su would deny it to the bitter end and act all high and mighty, but he owned up coolly and is now waiting for his loser's punishment.
I went back to the spot where Choi Jupyeong had tossed me that blanket, had a cup of tea, but looks like nobody wants to come near me.
Sigh. It's gotta be 'cause of Uncle Gongming—I'm obviously bad news now.
“But how did you arrive at such a view?”
“Doesn't the Classic say that 'killing is not benevolent'? Surely the young lady meant that, no?”
“Nonsense! It speaks of the weight one must bear when sending soldiers to their deaths for the greater good. My view is surely...”
The sound of them reciting classics carries all the way over here. Today's not Confucius this or Mencius that—it's all Sun Tzu this and Wu Qi that.
“Boring.”
I sip my hot tea with both hands and scan the assembly hall.
Sunlight filtering through the leaves, a gentle breeze tickling faintly. Pretentious chatter from nameless scholars. Watching these fierce debates stirs a sudden pang of pity in me.
I flop down on the cat cushion like a starving stray.
I'm the type who really hates debates and arguments. For real. I believe people's views don't change just from words alone.
But these folks here... especially Ma Su. Honestly, I was shocked. Bending your own opinion is insanely hard.
I'm curious now.
“What to do...”
Lately, I sometimes forget I'm in the late Han dynasty.
Maybe the disconnect from living in a world where Jesus died 2,000 years ago to one where he died 200 years ago has faded.
Does that mean my faith has deepened a bit?
For some reason, a holy feeling wells up, and I don't want to be too harsh on Ma Su.
The debate felt good, it put me in a good mood, made me magnanimous—and maybe I bought into innate goodness, but watching Ma Su reflect feels heroic somehow.
With Ma Su like this now, he might actually hold off that arrogant Wei army with just this many troops. Some inexplicable hunch.
In the debate hall, Ma Su's eyes shone like Xiang Yu's or Han Xin's.
Even if he only has one parent, that gap must be weighing on him. Probably. Or not. Whatever.
“Lady Soyoung! My insight was shallow, and I was rude—name any demand, and it's yours!”
Just as I was about to doze off, Ma Su sneaks up unnoticed and bows deeply. I sit up lazily and flash him a grin.
“Then die.”
“Pardon? La... Lady? I must have misheard...”
I'm not one for grudges. Really.
“You said you'd grant anything, right? Then die.”
This big sis is gonna have to cut you with tears in her eyes. Time to slather on the saliva.
Trust your sis. It's all for your own good.
*
“What in the world happened?”
Huang Yueying strode right up to Sima Hui.
“Madam, this is hardly proper.”
“Did my lord know? This can't be right. Is this his doing?”
“This is before the master—lower your voice. What if someone hears?”
“Ahem, but a mother's heart is naturally like this!”
Despite Zhuge Liang's remonstrations, Huang Yueying raised her voice. Zhuge Liang shrank back at this uncharacteristic side of her.
Reading the mood, Sima Hui strokes his beard.
“Madam, you're as steadfast as ever. That daughter of yours is quite bold, isn't she, Gongming?”
“Yes. I taught her that much. But she didn't stop there—she gained tenfold, no, a hundredfold insight. How could a father not be proud?”
“How did you come to adopt her as a foster daughter? I've long wanted a straight answer from you, and now that you've come, I need to hear it to set my mind at ease. Did you see the clues?”
“The fragments? Yes, I saw them.”
“What sort?”
“When the girl speaks of the classics, she always weaves in her own thoughts. And she doesn't stop there—she probes their deeper meaning.”
Sima Hui said nothing, but Zhuge Liang, grasping the intent, continued.
“I told her that. I merely said the principle of strategy lies in people. But what answer does she give? From that one statement, she creates tenfold, a hundredfold responses. Even I couldn't contain my excitement at her achievements.”
Huang Yueying cut in.
“That's not the point!”
Sima Hui chuckled at her twisted expression.
“Why are you so worried, madam? Aren't you proud of your daughter?”
“I am. That's why I'm so concerned.”
“I don't quite grasp your worry, old as I am. Care to spell it out?”
Huang Yueying's face grew troubled; she straightened her robes.
“Our daughter is so sharp—now everyone here will call her a woman of beauty and talent!!”
“...Madam?”
Zhuge Liang and Sima Hui watched her rant in stunned silence.
“Ahh... I told her not to do anything to draw attention! How did she end up just like her father, stirring up trouble everywhere!”
“Madam? Your words... they don't sound flattering to my ears.”
“How could you, her father, not read her mind? Is that how a father should act toward his daughter?”
“...Madam? Why are you so angry?”
“She was scared of this debate. Terrified! She threw a fit about not going in the carriage because her heart wasn't at peace! Didn't she plead with tears?”
“No, madam... She's a bit of a crybaby, but it wasn't like that.”
Zhuge Liang cut it off firmly, but Huang Yueying, now fully off the rails, ignored decorum.
“No? It was! How can you be so oblivious to a woman's heart? How can you be so ignorant and indifferent to a woman's feelings!”
“...Madam? Did I somehow anger you?”
“Yes. Exactly. As her mother, let me make her heart crystal clear. Ahem.”
Sima Hui watched the marital spat with keen interest.
Huang Yueying's exploits at the assembly hall included demanding kisses from Zhuge Liang, hugs, even sex—Sima Hui was quite intrigued to see what irreverent act she'd pull today.
Zhuge Liang looked wronged, but her fury didn't subside.
“A beauty senses these things instinctively, yet how... how could you not notice!”
“Madam? I truly don't understand what you're getting at.”
“Men will envy her talent and harbor dark desires for our Soyoung!!! How can parents send a child into that?!”
Sima Hui whistled softly.
Zhuge Liang's head throbbed.
“Madam? No... isn't that a huge leap?”
“No! How can men be so oblivious... Now I finally understand why she was so excessively anxious.”
Zhuge Liang felt wronged, but her words rang true.
A woman's heart is known to women; men handle the outside world, women the inside.
Clear boundaries bring household peace, which is the law of governing the state.
If so, he must be missing something.
Even Confucius didn't scorn asking inferiors; Huang Yueying was an ambitious woman worthy of his respect, so he was merely puzzled.
“Then why do you think the girl was excessively anxious?”
“She's pure, unstained by the world—like unblemished snow—yet thrown among men. What mother could rest easy? You know I always tell her to keep a steadfast heart.”
“I know. But... really? Unstained...”
“My lord! Are you doubting my eyes? I'm absolutely right. Otherwise, how could she make such claims?”
Indeed.
Zhuge Liang sensed his wife was correct.
Even from what his teacher said—and what he'd seen—Ma Su was a vessel worthy of being called a genius of the realm. His insight surpassed most scholars.
Then why would such a genius bend his own stance?
It was purity. Snow-white purity.
His wife fretted because Chen Soyoung's canvas was so pure it could be ruined. The whiter it was, the more she feared stains spreading.
If the girl was pure, everything made sense.
It gave legitimacy to Chen Soyoung's claims, as if voicing Zhuge Liang's own thoughts.
A nine-year-old spouting such seasoned words with earnest eyes could only be explained that way.
Her vast vessel was like spotless porcelain; infused with intent, it shifted colors, yielding diverse answers—true purity.
Enlightened, Zhuge Liang inwardly rejoiced at his insightful wife.
“Madam. I nearly mishandled things hastily, but your virtue opened my eyes. I've grasped your intent—how deep your heart is!”
“As expected of my lord! Listening so intently to your inferior—how could my love for you fade! I respect you so much; I'm glad I spoke up!”
“Madam... you overpraise me.”
Huang Yueying clung to Zhuge Liang's chest.
“A mother who bore such a daughter has a pure heart too—dye me in your colors!”
“Madam! Madam!!! How can you... before the master!! Are you trying to shorten my lifespan? How can you speak so brazenly!”
“Ahem, but my body is already dyed in your colors...”
“Madam! Please, restrain yourself!”
Sima Hui scratched his head and coughed once.
That was Huang Yueying for you.