Ordinarily, she stood aloof, speaking calmly of matters of character; yet when trouble arose, she knelt down in earnest, seeking safety for all.

Ziyou, the head of the academy, had clearly noticed Wang Yu’s hesitation. Yet Wang Yu had no intention of letting Zhu Bingli off the hook.

As the Confucians say, “If you repay enmity with kindness, how will you repay kindness? Repay enmity with justice, kindness with kindness!” Even the ancestors decreed that enmity must be met with justice. While not advocating for a tooth for a tooth, endless cycles of vengeance, Zhu Bingli could not simply be let go. To return his own methods upon him was already upright enough.

With a seemingly respectful gesture, Wang Yu bowed to Ziyou and said, “Headmaster, Zhu Bingli has violated the rules of our order. I ask you to act impartially and enforce the discipline with severity. Otherwise, how will you command the respect of all?”

Ziyou’s expression darkened; Wang Yu was forcing his hand with the academy’s own laws. Despicable! Subordinates undermining their superiors, harboring wicked thoughts—such a one must not be tolerated.

Very well.

Ziyou looked to Zhu Bingli, ignoring the man’s pleading gaze, and declared solemnly, “Zhu Bingli, you have shown no respect for your elders, harbored malice, spoken with insolence, and displayed poor character. Your cultivation is hereby abolished, and you are expelled from the Confucian Order. You are forbidden ever to set foot on Mount Tai again; should you trespass, you will be executed without mercy!”

At these words, Zhu Bingli collapsed to the ground, his eyes devoid of hope.

It was over. All over.

Once expelled, the Zhu family—who had risen thanks to his position—would be utterly ruined. Then those who had suffered at their hands would tear him apart. After all, the means by which the Zhu family had grown were far from upright—brutal, even.

In the past, others had feared his cultivation and background, dared not offend him, and had no choice but to endure. If he lost his powers and was cast out, his fate was all too clear.

The more Zhu Bingli thought, the greater his terror and regret. In the end, he broke completely.

He crawled forward on his knees, prostrating himself before Wang Yu, weeping bitterly as he begged, “Master Wang, I was wrong. I should never have harbored rebellious thoughts or offended you. Please, be magnanimous and forgive my past transgressions. If you will spare me, I am willing to serve you as a beast of burden, to honor you as a disciple. I beg you to grant me a chance for mercy.”

Zhu Bingli’s disgraceful display was enough to make Ziyou sick to his stomach. Such shameful behavior—was this not a slap in his own face? Where were his usual manners and composure now? When life was at stake, his ugliness was laid bare. Was this man worthy of the title “Great Scholar”?

If word got out, the name of the Confucian Order would be dragged through the mud. Ziyou himself would be branded a lax teacher, his authority—indeed, the authority of the entire order—greatly diminished.

At this moment, Ziyou wished nothing more than to slap Zhu Bingli dead on the spot.

Wang Yu was also stunned.

Good heavens! Is this what passes for a great scholar? What happened to your cultivation, your dignity, your honor? What kind of disciples are you raising?

Always preaching about character while sitting back, but at the first sign of real trouble, you grovel to save your life? You’re not even as good as those pedantic scholars of the Ming Dynasty—at least they knew to die for their king when the time came.

Seeing Ziyou’s ashen face, Wang Yu felt a sense of satisfaction. This is your prized pupil? Look at what you’ve created.

Yet, even though Zhu Bingli’s pleas might evoke pity, Wang Yu was unmoved. Men like this—hurt them, let them beg, and if you relent, they’ll trample you the moment they rise again. Such cases abound in Chinese history: Han with the Southern Xiongnu, Tang with the Turks and Khitans, Ming with the Mongols and Jurchens. The most typical example is that neighbor to the east—submissive and docile while weak, but ruthless and aggressive once strong.

Such men must be beaten down thoroughly, cut off at the root, and left with no way back. On this point, Wang Yu agreed with both the military and legalist schools.

But before Wang Yu could act, Ziyou had already lost patience. He could not stand by as Zhu Bingli continued to disgrace him and the order.

With a sweeping gesture of his sleeve, he commanded, “Take him at once to the Tribunal of Three Reflections, give him a hundred strokes of the ruler, abolish his cultivation, expel him from our ranks, and never let him appear before me again!”

As soon as Ziyou finished speaking, the officials of the Tribunal emerged. This body was, in essence, the Confucian Order’s Hall of Justice, named for the principle of daily self-examination.

Every student of the Tribunal carried a ruler called the Ruler of Integrity, the Confucian tool of discipline, used specifically to deal with errant disciples.

Since Zhu Bingli was a great scholar, the vice head of the Tribunal personally took charge. His name was Xun Gu, a master in his own right.

He had come to witness these proceedings and had intended only to watch the drama unfold. But who could have guessed that he would be called upon to play a part?

Xun Gu was not of Ziyou’s faction, but rather a disciple of Zilu. There had long been friction between the two factions, and Zhu Bingli, emboldened by his status as the headmaster’s pupil, had often made life difficult for Xun Gu.

Now, seeing him fall from grace, Xun Gu was in high spirits. He strode forward, tapping the Ruler of Integrity against his palm, a slight smile on his lips.

“Brother Bingli, will you walk on your own, or shall I escort you?”

At Xun Gu’s malicious gaze and insidious smile, Zhu Bingli shivered. Though he had often troubled Xun Gu before, it was only by virtue of his master’s power. Now, facing this smiling executioner alone, his courage failed him.

In truth, Zhu Bingli was not a man of great will or courage. His rise to the rank of great scholar was due less to talent and enlightenment than to his understanding of ritual and his skill in currying favor with Ziyou, which earned him abundant resources. Without that, with his natural gifts and insight, he might not have achieved even the rank of Confucian scholar.

His character simply was not up to the task.

Zhu Bingli dared not let Xun Gu take matters into his own hands, knowing it would only bring him greater suffering. Trembling, he struggled to his feet and cast a pleading look at Ziyou, clinging to a final sliver of hope.

But Ziyou would not even look at him, wishing nothing more than for his immediate disappearance.

Seeing Ziyou’s stern, upturned face, Zhu Bingli was finally consumed by despair. With a bitter laugh, he said, “So now I am truly despised by man and dog alike. Very well, Brother Xun, take me away.”

Seeing Zhu Bingli so cooperative, Xun Gu did not make things difficult for him. With a wave, two students stepped forward and hauled Zhu Bingli away.

Xun Gu bowed to Ziyou. “Headmaster, I will take him now and will carry out your instructions to the letter.”

With that, he ignored Ziyou’s sour expression, turned on his heel, and departed with his men for the Tribunal.

This fellow was clearly taking pleasure in Ziyou’s discomfort—one could see he had suffered much at Zhu Bingli’s hands in the past.