APSIL -Chapter 156 The Teacher Always Takes the Blame

“Well, look who finally decided to show up!”

The moment Zhang Shou entered the Ge residence, the elderly mute servant led him straight into Ge Yong’s study. As soon as he stepped inside, he found his teacher glaring at him, beard bristling with anger.

“Everyone keeps saying I, Ge Yong, accepted a marvelous disciple! That old fellow Chu Ying is practically trying to kill me with his eyes, and even Old Qi keeps looking at me like I’m deliberately hiding my true abilities, waiting to amaze the world! But what about me? Who knows that this old man has been run circles around by his own disciple!”

Zhang Shou hurried over, expertly patting his teacher’s back and rubbing his chest to calm him before speaking in a gentle voice.

“Please don’t be angry, Teacher. I only dared to use your name because I knew you were broad-minded and magnanimous. Otherwise, dealing with the students would have been easy, but there was no way I could have kept the instructors in line.”

Seeing that Ge Yong had vented enough and was now merely glaring at him, Zhang Shou explained everything—from his unsuccessful attempt to obtain resources from Guozijian Chancellor Zhou Xun to the entire sequence of events.

As soon as he finished, Ge Yong exploded again.

“So what if they won’t provide rice stipends? Every student at the Imperial Academy is supposed to receive festival gifts during holidays! Yet somehow, by the time it gets to him, everything becomes ‘the court has no money’?”

In his fury, the Grand Tutor completely forgot that his famous “Ge sayings” were becoming increasingly numerous.

“Good thing you came up with ‘Books cannot truly be appreciated unless they are borrowed.’ Otherwise, if it spread that Nine Chapters Hall students had to borrow books just to study, wouldn’t that make the Academy a laughingstock? Back in the founding years, the empire was far poorer than it is now, yet the students were still treated generously! How can the court possibly be poor now? I say there are simply too many officials wasting the treasury on salaries!”

Knowing that his teacher needed to vent completely lest he stew in silent anger all night, Zhang Shou patiently recounted everything that had happened during class, including how he had sent the Third and Fourth Princes away while unexpected auditors—including Zhu Er—had stayed until the end.

Ge Yong appeared reasonably satisfied.

Only then did Zhang Shou smile and offer an optimistic prediction.

“As long as Nine Chapters Hall continues holding classes like this, more and more people will eventually come out of curiosity. In time, some Academy students may be drawn in as well.”

“And since the Third and Fourth Princes are interested, they’ll certainly buy those introductory books and study them on their own. If this trend spreads from the palace to the outside world, these books—which are really just elementary primers—will eventually find plenty of readers.”

“I’m not expecting everyone under Heaven to master the complexities of The Nine Chapters on the Mathematical Arts. But if more and more people understand the fundamentals, then in the future there will naturally be fewer officials who can’t even handle basic arithmetic…”

Little by little, Zhang Shou’s calm words extinguished the fire in Ge Yong’s heart.

Though no longer as furious as he’d been at the Imperial Academy, the old man still raised an eyebrow.

“Tell me this. Why do you always insist on putting everything on my shoulders? Whether it’s the books you wrote or the things you said, why do you insist they’re all mine?”

His tone carried a trace of frustrated affection.

“I actually believed your nonsense about ‘lost classics.’ Since when were lost classics written in that bizarre script of yours? If everyone knew you wrote those books, there wouldn’t be so many ridiculous rumors floating around about you. And today’s line about ‘Books cannot truly be appreciated unless they are borrowed’ would only have enhanced your reputation!”

Zhang Shou remained completely composed.

“Teacher, you’re only saying that because those books have received such positive responses, and because Teacher Qi and the others all approved of what I said today. Naturally, now it seems that admitting I wrote them would increase my reputation.”

“But if we’d announced from the very beginning that I was the author… do you really think the reaction would have been the same?”

“No.”

“It absolutely wouldn’t.”

“They would have said that you, Teacher, had shamelessly attributed your own writings to your youngest disciple in order to elevate him—that you’d handed your own work to a student simply to make him famous.”

Ge Yong’s face darkened.

Smiling faintly, Zhang Shou continued, “Teacher, that’s simply human nature. People instinctively doubt the young while trusting the old. Even someone as renowned as Grand Tutor Ge cannot completely overturn that way of thinking.”

“Besides, I’ve already become famous enough lately. I don’t need this kind of reputation.”

Inwardly, Zhang Shou thought that his face alone already attracted enough attention. If his scholarly reputation kept growing as well, it would become excessive.

Take today’s quotation about borrowing books.

If Ge Yong said it, no one would object.

If he said it…

Merely appearing to lecture others about the Emperor’s educational policies would become a political minefield.

So he spoke even more sincerely.

“If your reputation can help those books spread farther—if it can encourage a few more people, or dozens more, or hundreds more, to study mathematics—then it’s well worth it.”

“So in the end, it’s I who have borrowed the prestige of the Ge name.”

“It’s not you borrowing me for fame.”

“At your age and with your standing, would you really need some little trick of mine to make you more famous?”

Ge Yong stared into Zhang Shou’s eyes.

Seeing nothing but genuine warmth and amusement, not the slightest trace of reluctance, he finally snorted.

“You little rascal… you’re the most troublesome of all my disciples.”

“Fine, fine. I’m troublesome. I’ve disappointed you.”

“Nonsense!”

Ge Yong slapped the armrest.

“You’re the most troublesome, but you’ve disappointed me the least!”

“Besides, I’ve always had excellent judgment when choosing disciples!”

His brows lifted proudly, his spirits entirely restored.

Seeing that the old man’s mood had become worlds apart from the anger he’d displayed earlier, Zhang Shou exchanged a few more pleasant words before preparing to excuse himself and urge his teacher to rest.

Unexpectedly, Ge Yong suddenly remembered something.

“Right! Didn’t your class at Nine Chapters Hall end ages ago? Why are you only showing up now?”

“The Imperial Academy is in the northern city, right next to the Shuntian Prefecture offices, precisely so students can focus on studying without distractions. As an Imperial Academy Doctor, you should set an example!”

“Now tell me—where did you go?”

Zhang Shou suddenly felt as though he’d snuck back to the dormitory after curfew only to be caught by the dorm supervisor.

Unfortunately, where he’d gone was indeed… awkward.

He could only answer honestly.

“I went to Tingyu Pavilion.”

“With Yingying, her second brother, and Lu Sanlang.”

“It was Marquis Weinan Zhang Kang’s invitation…”

“What?!”

Before he could finish, Ge Yong leapt to his feet.

“You actually went to that damned place?”

“Wine is poison that rots the intestines! Beauty is a steel blade that scrapes the bones! You understand so many grand principles—how can you not understand this one?”

“What am I supposed to say about you…”

Then he suddenly froze.

“Wait.”

“You went… with Yingying?”

“And her second brother?”

“And Lu Sanlang?”

The old man’s righteous fury evaporated instantly, replaced by bewilderment.

Lu Sanlang had once been a notorious playboy.

Zhu Er was even worse.

But Zhu Ying…

Yes, the young lady had visited brothels before.

Still, who would ever think she preferred women over men?

Especially when she was accompanying Zhang Shou…

Frowning deeply, Ge Yong asked, “What did that barbarian Zhang Kang want with you?”

Without another word, Zhang Shou handed over the slip of paper from his sleeve.

Ge Yong glanced at it once before rudely stuffing it back into his hands.

“That damned barbarian! After all these years he still hasn’t given up!”

“He keeps saying that if all else fails, he’ll just test every possible combination one by one. Has he succeeded after all these years?”

“I told him the same thing.”

“With a fourteen-ring key, there are four possibilities for each ring.”

“That’s four to the fourteenth power.”

“Two hundred sixty-eight million four hundred thirty-five thousand four hundred fifty-six combinations.”

Ge Yong shot him a look that clearly said, You actually calculated it?

Smiling, Zhang Shou continued, “I couldn’t very well refuse such enthusiastic hospitality, so I simply agreed. I’ll fiddle with it for two or three days, then tell him I couldn’t solve it.”

“That’s the proper attitude.”

Ge Yong nodded approvingly.

“Mathematics isn’t omnipotent.”

“You’ve already received enough attention from deciphering those secret messages.”

“There’s no need to rack your brains helping that barbarian open that accursed box.”

At that moment, the old man had to admit to himself that Zhang Shou already stood far above his peers.

If the books and everything he’d said that day were openly attributed to someone so young, certain people would undoubtedly begin harboring dangerous thoughts.

A tall tree catches the wind first.

When Ge Yong himself had achieved the unprecedented distinction of placing first in all seven levels of the imperial examinations, hadn’t he survived only because he belonged to the Ge family—a lineage of loyal but politically isolated ministers—and because Emperor Yingzong had deliberately cultivated his reputation?

Had he not been born into the Ge clan, those old political foxes would have devoured him long ago.

“Enough.”

“You lectured for half the day, then spent the evening dealing with that fox-like old barbarian.”

“I’m sure you’re mentally exhausted.”

“I won’t keep you up trying to solve any puzzles.”

“I’ve already had a guest room prepared.”

“Go to bed early.”

“Don’t keep calculating.”

Seeing Ge Yong shooing him away without another word, Zhang Shou naturally didn’t refuse.

After bidding his teacher good night, he left the study.

Declining the mute servant’s offer to guide him, he made his way through the familiar residence to the guest room reserved for him. After washing up and soaking his feet, he finally lay down.

Yet the fifty-six characters of the fourteen-ring cipher continued to occupy his thoughts.

He was convinced that if the fourteen-character key were merely a simple verse, Zhang Kang would never have sought him out.

With no clues and no reference points beyond the fact that the characters all came from the Thousand Character Classic, even with the aid of a computer, this sort of one-time cipher would be nearly impossible to crack.

Tomorrow, however…

Tomorrow he would finally see a world map from this era.

That alone promised to be a fascinating experience.

He wondered whether, in a world where the flutter of a butterfly’s wings had already changed so many things, the distant corners of the globe had likewise diverged from the history he knew.

And more importantly—

The quality of those maps would reveal the true level of mathematics and geography that this world had achieved.