My Wife Is A Sword Immortal

Chapter 55: Chapter 48 Lord, Do As You Please_2
 

Zhao Rong found it stranger and stranger as he listened. “Are you still talking?”

Lin Wenruo immediately stopped, glanced at Zhao Rong’s expression, and said earnestly, “Actually, there’s no trick to it.”

After speaking, he folded his middle finger.

“Firstly, I’m not in a relationship with them, I am the master, and they should obey me.”

Then, the index finger was also retracted.

“Secondly, don’t we Confucians advocate the Three Obediences and Four Virtues for women? My Lanxi Lin family is a clan of poetry and propriety, governing with Confucian family principles. I don’t need to worry about this. On the other hand, your thoughts, Ziyu, are quite peculiar.”

Zhao Rong thought for a moment, nodded, and also realized that he still retained many concepts from his previous life, but he didn’t feel the need to forcibly change all at once; letting things take their natural course was fine.

Zhao Rong raised his eyebrows and sighed. “I never thought there’d be such benefits to being a Confucian.”

Lin Wenruo immediately reacted. “Look at you, Zhao Ziyu, I thought you were devoted to one person, but you turn out to be such a philanderer, not yet satisfied with what’s in your bowl and already looking at what’s in the pot.”

“Don’t spout nonsense, I was just asking, besides,” Zhao Rong put his new knowledge to use. “Can the affairs of us Confucian Scholars be called philandering?”

Lin Wenruo: “…”

All around them was silence, the night grew deeper, yet the two in the pavilion talked even more enthusiastically about everything under the sun.

From the distant folk customs of the martial world to the lofty national policies of the imperial court.

From the insights of summer cicadas to the amusing stories from their childhood studies.

Moonlight glinting off goblets, their robes damp with wine.

Zhao Rong, with his vision blurred from drink, said teasingly, “You urge me to drink today, but to what end?”

Because Lin Wenruo was a cultivator of no small accomplishment, he found it hard to get drunk. Hearing this, he shifted his gaze from the tipped wine cup on the table to Zhao Rong, seeing his eyes hazy but his lips marked by a smile, it was unclear if he was drunk or sober.

The two of them, from meeting in Zuiweng Pavilion to drunkenness at Lake Heart Pavilion.

Some words.

One had always been unspoken, the other had always been waiting.

Zhao Rong let out a deep breath of alcohol, put down the wine pitcher, and, with his hands on his knees and leaning forward, said, “Hey, Lin Wenruo, talk to me about it.”

Lin Wenruo gave a look to the frivolous man in front of him after drinking. He was silent for a while. “No matter, your wife is more important, don’t delay the pressing matter.”

“Why are you being such a nag, Lin Wenruo, just speak if I ask you to, no need for pleasantries? Besides…” Zhao Rong burped. “Besides, I might not even help you, if it’s too dangerous, and I can’t even save my own skin, then I will definitely run far away, even if you send all your dozen concubines to me, I still wouldn’t help.”

Zhao Rong laughed loudly: “Then I can only wait until this young master has completed his studies and come back to collect your corpse and burn some paper money for you.”

Zhao Rong raised his voice. “Speaking of which, Lin Wenruo, just how many concubines do you have, when you say a dozen?”

Lin Wenruo ignored Zhao Rong’s nonsense, he looked outside the pavilion, then turned back with a calm voice. “Qingchi and I have agreed to a Confucianism-Daoism debate in front of the king and tens of thousands of Zhongnan Country’s people, which will happen ten days from today.”

“At that time, the King of Zhongnan Country, all the court officials, the whole city population, as well as countless hidden figures from Zhongnan and cultivators from the mountains, will be witnesses to the debate.”

Zhao Rong tilted his head: “What are the rules?”

Lin Wenruo outlined the rules briefly but did not reveal every last detail.

“Three people from each side of Confucianism and Daoism will partake in three debates, each person can only participate once, regardless of victory or defeat, they must step down. The side with the most wins out of the three debates is the victor. Qingchi and I must participate, but there are no restrictions on the other slots. The rules are similar to scholarly discussions, but there are subtle changes. Each side in the debate has no aides; it’s just one person debating another.”

Zhao Rong nodded, somewhat dizzily.

Due to the special national conditions of Zhongnan Country, the style of scholarly discussions is popular, and the whole nation up and down loves these debates. Scholarly discussions follow a general process, which Zhao Rong understood somewhat.

“I originally had candidates in mind, but one of them can’t make it anymore.” Lin Wenruo gently placed the luminescent wine cup on the table. “Chong Xu Temple’s doing.”

Lin Wenruo narrowed his eyes; he didn’t fully disclose the sequence of events leading to the exposure of his candidate. At this point, saying more would be of no benefit. Besides, the matter was extremely complex, with various coincidences and inevitabilities intertwined within it, and the turbulence and intrigue involved were not something that could be explained in a few words.

For now, the priority was to ensure the confidentiality of this debate’s candidates until the day of the debate.

Lin Wenruo glanced at Zhao Rong again. “There was already little time, now only ten days are left, but we’re missing one candidate…”

Zhao Rong understood the situation; though he didn’t pick up Lin Wenruo’s thread but instead continued to ask: “What’s the stake for this debate between Confucianism and Daoism?”

Lin Wenruo slowly explained, “It’s a wager. The winning side takes everything on the table. Chong Xu Temple has bet their position as the state religion. If they lose, the Daoists will forever be barred from intervening in the Zhongnan Country’s politics, and all land under Taibai Mountain’s Daoist temples will have to be transferred to the Lanxi Lin family.”

“The stakes on the table can be raised, as long as both parties agree.”

Zhao Rong tilted his head, suddenly asking another question: “Why would Chong Xu Temple bet with you? If they paid you no heed, wouldn’t standing still like a mountain put them in an invincible position?”

Lin Wenruo’s mouth curved slightly. “Because I persuaded the king. The world thinks I forced the king during the spring sacrifice to agree to the Confucianism-Daoism debate. Little do they know, the king has long been fed up with Chong Xu Temple, but he feared their great power. I, Lin Qingchi, simply handed the king a knife—that is, me and the Lanxi Lin family standing behind me.”