Chapter 7: The Dignity of Teachers and the Inferiority of Learners

Faced with this suddenly appearing guy, Zhang Yue merely glanced at him sideways, then frantically searched his memory, but found nothing—he really had no hope for his “memory.” Since he couldn’t recall who this person was, he could only cough lightly and say to the laughing youth with confidence, “I indeed make many spelling mistakes, but over these years, I’ve only spent a few dozen days studying at school—of course, that’s my level.”
“Hmph, you’ve gotten so bold just after a month apart!”
The youth curled his lips, then glanced at the two empty seats beside him, a smug smile appearing on his face. “Zhang Xiaosan, your two older brothers don’t even know where they’ve gone right now. Be careful on your way back, don’t get hurt. It’s not easy for you to come to class once; don’t end up sick at home tomorrow.”
Watching the youth swagger back to the third row with his two accomplice-like classmates, Zhang Yue felt something was off about those words. Soon after, various chaotic fragments popped into his mind—things like inexplicable falls or stones suddenly flying out of nowhere. He had thought these were just signs of his bad luck before, but it turned out he had been under someone’s secret schemes all along!
Was that “him” really that stupid back then?
Looking down at his seemingly fragile arms and legs, and then at the two scribes outside who looked loyal but would be utterly useless in a fight, Zhang Yue once again realized that strength matters. Though being threatened by a brat wasn’t pleasant, seeing Mr. Du, who had just left, come back to start teaching, he put these annoying thoughts aside for now.
They were now studying the chapter “Taibo” from The Analects. Some parts were familiar to Zhang Yue, but others were new to him. He had been more interested in history, and had little exposure to The Analects—after all, in his era, at least nine out of ten adults had never read it thoroughly.

For this passage as well, Mr. Du read it verbatim before beginning to explain each point in simple and understandable terms. However, he explained each point only once without further elaboration. Zhang Yue had no choice but to put down his writing brush and listen attentively. When Mr. Du came to a point that had later sparked widespread debate, Zhang Yue frowned slightly after hearing the explanation—just slightly.

Yet after the class, the usually stern Mr. Du stood in front of him again and said, “The people can be made to follow orders but not made to understand them. You frowned when you heard this sentence—was there anything you didn’t understand?”

Before Zhang Yue could reply, a few students behind him started laughing. The young man whose name Zhang Yue couldn’t remember teased, “The teacher is asking the wrong person. Zhang Xiaosan has only been to class a few times; he simply doesn’t understand.”

“Come with me.”

Zhang Yue thought Mr. Du was just asking casually. Hearing this, he was slightly stunned and quickly stood up to follow him. The students’ laughter echoed behind him, but he paid it no mind and followed Mr. Du into a small room at the corner. Seeing Mr. Du sit down, he grew uneasy—in modern times, this would either mean a private scolding or one-on-one tutoring. He wasn’t sure what this gesture by a teacher in an ancestral school meant.

“Your notes were extremely detailed. You shouldn’t have had trouble understanding the sentence ‘The people can be made to follow orders but not made to understand them.’ If there’s anything you don’t understand, feel free to tell me now.”

Seeing Mr. Du’s straightforwardness, Zhang Yue honestly said, “Sir, I just think that if we interpret this sentence as you did at the beginning, it seems contradictory to what you explained in a previous class. You also mentioned the importance of never stopping learning and being tireless in teaching, which implies that the sages didn’t necessarily want the people to understand—otherwise, why bother being tireless in teaching?”

As soon as he finished speaking, he regretted it. In those days, a teacher’s authority could not be challenged by a student. Would his words bring reprimand? To his relief, a faint smile appeared on Mr. Du’s usually expressionless face.

“Xing Bing commented in his ‘Annotations on the Analects’ that the ways of the sages are profound and difficult to understand, which is why the people should not be made to know them. As a young student, it’s fine for you to raise such doubts in front of me, but you must not casually criticize them elsewhere.”

As he spoke, he stood up, fumbled around on the bookshelf for a while, and when he turned around, he was holding a book that was neither too old nor too new. He casually handed the book to Zhang Yue and then said, “Take this book home and read it. Return it to me after you’ve finished. Go now.” Zhang Yue quickly took it with both hands and saw that the cover read “Annotations on The Analects.” He promptly bowed in gratitude. It wasn’t until he left the small room that he took a deep breath of relief.

Although The Analects had been annotated by countless people over thousands of years, and he had also read a famous modern bestseller, he had never read it thoroughly. With such limited knowledge, he didn’t dare to show off in front of true scholars of this era. But why had Mr. Du given him such a book?

On the way, he flipped through it casually and found the blank spaces filled with dense handwriting, seemingly notes or reflections. Realizing this was by no means an ordinary book, he quickly stuffed it into his chest and entered the classroom with a dejected look. Sure enough, before he even sat down, mocking laughter came from behind him. “Hey, he’s just an idiot pretending to be something else!” “If the father is useless, can the son possibly succeed?” “He only knows how to follow in the footsteps of those two older guys!”

Even though Zhang Yue had developed excellent composure after his reincarnation, he couldn’t help but feel anger surge up at that moment. But just as he stood up, a cold laugh came from behind. “If you really had skills, why cheat during the monthly exams at the school?”

At these words, the classroom, which had been noisy like a modern market, fell dead silent. Zhang Yue turned around and saw a boy sitting in the last row. He was wearing a spotlessly clean white shirt and had no valuable accessories, appearing to be some poor relative who had come to study there. Yet, at Zhang Yue’s glare, all the mocking students fell silent.

There were monthly exams at the clan school? Zhang Yue first noticed those two words and then became curious about the identity of this upstander—needless to say, he didn’t remember who he was. After saying those words, the boy sat back down, picked up his book, and never spoke again, acting as if he were oblivious to everything outside and focused solely on studying the classics.

“Pretending to be noble? If it weren’t for everyone paying to steal your answers, your parents would have starved to death long ago!” A low muttering came from the corner, but Zhang Yue heard it clearly and was deeply moved.