When in humble circumstances, one should cultivate personal integrity; when in a position of influence, one should strive to better the world.

To be honest, this did pose something of a challenge for Wang Yu. He could more or less guess the intention behind the grand scene Master Kong had set. It was nothing more than using the majesty of the mountains and the sunrise to inspire ambition in the younger disciples, to test the resolve of those climbing the heavenly ladder.

The spectacle of the rising sun just now was indeed magnificent, but it did not awaken in Wang Yu any desire to compete with the heavens themselves. Why was that? Mainly because he had seen sunrises too many times to count; the sight had long since numbed him. His heart was calm and indifferent.

Moreover, Wang Yu’s aspirations were not grand ambitions. He simply sought freedom and pleasure. The affairs of ruling a country or bringing peace to the world held no appeal for him. As the saying goes, “Beauty is what I love, but carefree ease is what I desire. If I cannot have both, I would forsake beauty for ease.”

But would such words pass muster? Wang Yu began to ponder the temperament of Master Kong. The sage himself had said, “At fifteen, I set my heart upon learning; at thirty, I stood firm; at forty, I was free from doubt; at fifty, I understood Heaven’s mandate; at sixty, I was attuned to all that I heard; at seventy, I could follow my heart’s desire without overstepping the bounds.”

To be “attuned to all that one hears” means to remain undisturbed in heart, no matter what one hears, to have achieved a state of constancy. In other words, no matter what Wang Yu said, the sage would not be angered.

However, just because he would not be angered did not mean he would not be displeased. Judging by the gravity of the occasion, this was clearly a test to select the next successor of the Confucian line. The standards were surely extraordinary. If he were to speak of beauties and carefree ease, he would likely come to no good end.

After all, the pursuit of beauty was the longing of the chamber sect, while carefree ease was the ideal of the Daoist Zhuangzi’s tradition. He might well be taken for a spy from another sect and be eliminated on the spot.

Therefore, for the sake of his own survival, even if he could not utter some heaven-shaking ambition, he would do well to align his answer with Confucian thought—this was the safest course.

But how best to express it? What sort of aspiration should he declare? Wang Yu fell into deep thought, while the line of enormous characters in the sea of clouds seemed in no hurry, standing quietly, awaiting his answer.

At that moment, countless famous quotations he had memorized flashed through Wang Yu’s mind.

“To worry before the world’s worries, and rejoice after the world’s joy.”

“Though the old steed stays in its stable, its ambition lies a thousand miles away; though a hero is in his twilight years, his heart remains undaunted.”

“When poor, cultivate oneself alone; when prosperous, bring benefit to all under heaven.”

“To resolve the affairs of the world for the ruler, and win lasting fame in life and after death.”

“Since ancient times, who has not died? Let my loyal heart illuminate history.”

“Draw the bow beneath the fusang tree, and rest the long sword beyond the sky.”

“One must ascend the summit to see all lesser mountains at a glance.”

“With lofty spirits, our ambitions soar; we long to reach the heavens and grasp the bright moon.”

And so on—there were too many to count.

In the end, Wang Yu found that it was Mencius who most resonated with his own heart. So he declared, “When in humble circumstances, cultivate oneself alone; when prosperous, bring benefit to all under heaven. To cultivate oneself alone is not to impose on others; to bring benefit to the world is to wish all people to become as noble as dragons.”

What Wang Yu meant was that when he had no power, he would perfect himself without forcing his will upon others; but when he had influence, he would hope to see everyone become noble and virtuous. Such an ambition was truly remarkable—indeed, it was the very ideal pursued by men of Confucian learning.

It fit perfectly with the philosophy of Confucianism. For as the saying goes, the benevolent love others; one must first learn to love oneself, and only with the ability can one extend love to others. If all did so, the world would surely reach great harmony.

As expected, when Wang Yu finished speaking, the massive characters in the sea of clouds began to shift. They transformed into the indistinct silhouette of a person—a figure with a sunken crown and a prominent forehead, skin tinged with green, short of limb and long of body—none other than Master Kong himself.

Indeed, Master Kong’s appearance was not particularly handsome; one could even say it was rather striking. Yet, no one who beheld him felt aversion or fear. On the contrary, his gentleness was like that of a precious jade, meeting him was like feeling the warmth of spring wind. A gentleman is like jade—so it is. Not in outward form, but in the essence within, the spirit, the soul.

The silhouette stood tall and proud, gazing at Wang Yu. Even though it was but a spectral image, Wang Yu dared not show the slightest disrespect. Although he held many grievances against the Confucian sect, he deeply revered this sage.

His cultivation, his achievements, his virtue—all were worthy of Wang Yu’s highest respect. Thus, Wang Yu bowed deeply and said, “Disciple of the later generation, Wang Yu—styled Hongjian—pays respects to the Patriarch.”

At this time, Wang Yu had not yet left the Confucian sect and was still an outer disciple. Therefore, addressing him as Patriarch was entirely appropriate.

The spectral image seemed to possess a measure of sentience. It nodded and, with a wave, lifted Wang Yu upright. Then it said, “You have ascended the Eighteen Bends of the Heavenly Ladder and obtained the marks of all nine branches. Though your literary aura has not yet awakened, your grasp of the Way is already uncommon—excellent, excellent.”

Wang Yu hastened to reply with humility, “Patriarch flatters me; Hongjian is unworthy of such praise.”

The silhouette spoke no further. Though it had some intelligence, it was rather limited, more like an intelligent automaton than a true avatar of Master Kong.

Therefore, it said directly, “Since you have received the recognition of the nine branches and possess such lofty ambition, you are worthy to be considered one of the heirs of our Confucian tradition. Thus, this token is granted to you. May you cultivate diligently in the future and walk the path of benevolence.”

With that, the specter traced a line in the air, and a five-colored radiance flew over and landed in Wang Yu’s hand. Before Wang Yu could react, the specter made another gesture, and a beam of light whisked Wang Yu away from the summit of Mount Tai.

At that very moment, clouds of color converged above Mount Tai, purple energy billowed forth, and the silhouette of a qilin appeared amidst the auspicious clouds.

At the sight of the qilin’s shadow, even Headmaster Ziyou could not maintain his composure. He immediately bowed and said, “Greetings, Teacher.”

The others, visibly moved, knelt and called out, “We pay our respects to the Patriarch.”

This apparition was none other than the Five-Colored Auspicious Qilin, the mount of Master Kong. It was said that when Confucius was born, a qilin appeared in his family’s courtyard and spat out a jade scroll, on which was written, “Son of the essence of water, to uphold the declining Zhou and be a true king.”

When Confucius achieved the Way, the qilin became his mount, revered as the sacred beast of Confucianism and the spokesperson of the Patriarch.

Thus, when the five-colored qilin appeared, everyone believed the Patriarch had sent down his avatar. Yet, what happened next left everyone dumbfounded.

For seated atop the qilin was none other than Wang Yu, who had vanished at the summit of the Heavenly Ladder.

At this, faces darkened in an instant, none more so than Ziyou, whose expression was black as the bottom of a pot. Anger and shame surged within him. He could not comprehend why the phantom of the Auspicious Qilin would bear Wang Yu down from the heavens. Could it be that this was the Teacher’s will? Had the Patriarch already fully recognized this youth and named him a seed for succession?