Chapter 37: Go Knows No Borders, But Players Have a Country

While there were naturally many works that could rival *An Eulogy to My Humble Room*, Gu Dao chose *A Lover of the Lotus*.

He lifted his brush and wrote upon the folding screen:

*Of all the flowers of water and land, the endearing ones are exceptionally numerous. The recluses of antiquity solely loved the chrysanthemum. Since the Li Qian dynasty, the people of the world have profoundly adored the peony…*

Here, Gu Dao replaced Tao Yuanming’s name with "the recluse of antiquity," and changed the Li Tang dynasty to the Li Qian dynasty.

As Gu Dao wrote each line, the people below followed along, reciting in unison and copying it down stroke by stroke.

By the time he finished the first stanza, the voices beneath the platform had merged into a single resonant wave, accompanied entirely by the frantic rustling of brushes sweeping across paper.

Until he wrote the final stroke.

The scholars of the Imperial Academy were already shouting aloud in excitement. Though ragged and uncoordinated, their agitation was extreme.

Yet another masterpiece destined to be passed down through the ages had been born. Such writing possessed an invincible lethality.

"What a magnificent phrase: 'Rising from the mud unstained, bathed in pure ripples yet uncorrupted.' This piece is mine! Whoever dares to contend with me for it, I shall fight them to the death!"

Fang Shoucheng’s eyes were bloodshot with fervor as he snatched up an inkstone from somewhere and roared.

Mei Zisu’s hand, which was stroking his beard, trembled uncontrollably, and his teeth chattered.

His heart churned like overturning rivers and seas, while an inner voice roared in fury: *How is this possible?*

How could such a piece of profound cultural essence stem from the hands of this reckless lunatic? This was the caliber belonging only to lofty scholars who had spent decades in ascetic cultivation.

"Mei Zisu, if you do not play this match, I fear you will not be able to walk out of this Imperial Academy, and you will likely leave behind a stench for ten thousand years," said Master Jingjie leisurely.

Immediately following this, the recluse began to curse aloud.

"You unfilial wretch Gu Xiuzhi, how could you conceal yourself so deeply? If one doesn't force you, you simply refuse to write, don't you? It's mine, all of it should be mine!"

Gu Dao remained thoroughly calm, remarking that he could copy yet another piece.

However, no one believed him anymore, completely taking it as lingering resentment on his part, meant to mock those who had plotted to frame him.

With his previous poems and now *A Lover of the Lotus* brought forth into the world, who would ever dare claim his writing was plagiarized again?

While Master Jingjie hurled insults, Yuan Cong was so hopping mad that he retorted sharply against Master Jingjie.

"A well-fed man knows nothing of the hunger of the starving! He has already produced *An Eulogy to My Humble Room*, what more could you possibly want? He is my grand-pupil, so this literary work should rightfully belong to me!" Yuan Cong raged.

Compared to these men who merely used their tongues, the Prince of Chu had already taken action.

He cast a subtle glance at his guards, who immediately grasped his meaning and slipped away to summon reinforcements.

"Seize him for me! Interrogate him thoroughly to find out precisely who orchestrated the plot to slander Gu Xiuzhi," commanded the Prince of Chu, pointing directly at the whistleblower.

The whistleblower collapsed to the ground with a soft thud and was instantly pinned down by two guards.

Li Xianyun stared at the poetry and prose upon the folding screen, watching as *A Lover of the Lotus* flowed effortlessly from the brush of Gu Dao.

She found it utterly unbelievable.

This could not possibly be Gu Dao’s true level. How could that spineless, wretched wretch possess such scholarly talent?

If all of these were truly written by him, then what on earth had he been doing for the past decade and more?

No, everything before her eyes was wrong; Gu Dao must have used some trickery. There had to be a flaw somewhere.

Gu Dao strode before Li Xianyun, gripping his brush, and interrogated her in a freezing tone:

"Your Highness, I have already confessed to plagiarism, and the evidence is conclusive. Do you intend to expel me from the Imperial Academy, or exile me to the ends of the earth?"

"I await Your Highness's command."

Gu Dao’s final sentence burst forth charged with suppressed fury.

Spittle even sprayed onto Li Xianyun’s face.

Li Xianyun trembled all over with rage. Since when had this wretched creature ever dared to shout and roar at her?

How dared he interrogate her in such a coercive manner, striking her directly across the face?

Furious though she was, she well knew that she could no longer step down from this stage with grace.

Everyone was staring directly at Li Xianyun.

This poetry gathering had been hosted by her, the famous scholars and Confucian masters had all been invited by her, and the informer had acted aggressively toward Gu Dao from the very beginning.

Either the Princess had partaken in the conspiracy to frame Gu Dao, or, if she had not, she had simply been exploited, which indirectly proved the utter stupidity of the Princess.

Subjected to endless, unceasing pressure, Gu Dao had exhausted his patience, and his pent-up wrath was finally unleashed completely.

At that moment, Gu Ling perceived an opportunity. His heart pounding and his body trembling with excitement, he thought this was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to play the hero saving the beauty.

Unable to contain his eagerness, he stepped forward, bounded up the high platform in two strides, and roared:

"Gu Dao! Such unmitigated audacity! How dare you speak to the Princess in such a manner? As a subject, do you intend to commit treason against the sovereign?"

With those words, he thrust himself horizontally between Gu Dao and the Princess, striking a heroic pose meant to shelter her from the elements. This sudden move left everyone dumbfounded.

Li Xianyun was equally stunned. What on earth was Gu Ling trying to do?

Nevertheless, it conveniently relieved her awkward predicament, leaving her with a lingering sense of gratitude. Prince Mingyue truly proved to be vastly superior to Gu Dao.

Gu Dao burst into a sudden, mocking laugh, pointing his brush back and forth between Gu Ling and the Princess in the air. The words "adulterous couple" were just about to slip past his lips.

Before he could utter them, Jinse grabbed his wrist tightly.

"Brother Xiuzhi, calm your anger, calm your anger! You must not speak recklessly."

Jinse possessed a crystalline mind and instantly guessed that Gu Dao was about to curse out something unseemly. Her eyes were red with anxiety, and she was on the verge of clamping her hand over Gu Dao's mouth.

She knew that if Gu Dao were to voice certain truths, it would spell a catastrophe of epic proportions, especially for himself.

Gu Dao glanced down at Jinse’s anxious little face, and half of his blazing fury subsided. While treasonous remarks could remain unsaid, his malice had to be vented, and certain matters needed resolution right here and now.

Thus, he shouted toward Wei Qingmei at the foot of the platform:

"Wei Qingmei, do you know why I made you a maidservant? It was precisely so you could see through the true face of this man!"

"Prince Mingyue gazes at the moon in the heavens, but you are merely his pawn. He enjoys your adoration and lets you willingly sacrifice yourself, yet his true goal is to step upon you to climb higher—to climb into the seat of the Imperial Son-in-law."

The moment these words fell, Li Xianyun started in shock and instantly put distance between herself and Gu Ling.

Gu Ling’s handsome face flushed scarlet as his hidden motives were exposed. Though somewhat embarrassed, a secret elation bloomed within him.

*Thank you, you good-for-nothing trash, for pointing out my intentions directly. It saves me the trouble.*

Yet outwardly, he had to feign righteous indignation:

"Gu Dao, not everyone is as foul-hearted and rotten as you! To show such disrespect to the Princess—do you have any regard for moral principles and decorum left at all?"

Gu Dao, however, couldn't be bothered to entertain him. He flicked his sleeve with an expression of utter disgust.

"Indeed, how well-versed in principles and decorum you are! A concubine-born son openly shouting his legitimate elder brother’s given name, and before the matter was even clarified, attempting to expel me, the legitimate son, from the Gu family."

"Do not call yourself Prince Mingyue henceforth; call yourself Prince Hypocrite instead."

Gu Dao’s words directly stripped away Gu Ling’s final shred of pretense.

Gu Ling cast a guilty glance around him; many people were already wearing expressions of thinly veiled mockery.

When his gaze swept across Wei Qingmei’s face, the boundless anguish visible within those eyes made him unable to linger even for a second.

"I, Gu Ling, conduct myself according to my own principles in this world; it is not for a reckless lunatic like you—who brings shame upon the Gu family—to point fingers!"

Gu Ling forced out these words, then abruptly pivoted the conversation:

"Did you not wish to challenge my master? What are you waiting for? Could it be that you are afraid?"

Gu Ling’s tone dripped with extreme mockery, terrified lest Gu Dao forget.

He possessed absolute confidence in his master, Mei Zisu.

He simply waited to watch his master utterly crush Gu Dao into the dust upon the chessboard, teaching this arrogant madman a severe lesson.

For his master to discipline Gu Dao was equivalent to him doing it himself.

From then on, whenever Gu Dao looked at him, he would recall the humiliation of his defeat to his master at this very spot. He intended to become the eternal mental demon haunting Gu Dao for the rest of his life.

With this thought, he hurried to Mei Zisu’s side, beckoning his pageboy to arrange the chessboard.

Mei Zisu’s fingers twitched, and he desperately wished he could strangle this ill-fated, misfortune-bringing disciple to death. *You haven't the slightest inkling of what you've done,* he thought frantically.

Master Jingjie nearly burst out laughing.

Everyone else, however, looked toward Gu Dao with a measure of apprehension, recalling that ever since Mei Zisu had arrived in the capital of Yuandu, he had never tasted defeat.

Countless luminaries of the chess world had fallen at his hands; why had Gu Dao suddenly gone mad and chosen to challenge him?

Yuan Cong stood up, intending to smooth things over and let the matter pass.

When Mei Zisu saw Yuan Cong rise, he recognized his intent and felt a wave of relief wash over him.

To swallow his conscience and declare that *A Lover of the Lotus* was inferior to *An Eulogy to My Humble Room* was entirely out of the question; if word got out, he would never be able to show his face in society again.

Yet, he lacked confidence when it came to playing chess against Gu Dao. Once defeated, the reputation accumulated through his consecutive victories would be washed down the drain.

At this juncture, as long as someone stepped in to stop Gu Dao and speak on his behalf, he could effortlessly adopt the magnanimous bearing of a senior master above petty disputes.

He could thus extricate himself from this predicament.

Mei Zisu gazed yearningly at Yuan Cong, mentally rehearsing the speech he would deliver—one that would preserve his aura of supreme expertise while allowing him to gracefully retreat without losing face.

Never had he imagined that, just for a moment when his attention lapsed, Gu Ling would charge forward with fighting spirit soaring to the skies.

Ringing out clearly, Gu Ling declared:

"Grand Tutor, surely you do not mean to intervene and stop this? Gu Dao’s arrogant challenge against my master cannot simply be let go."

"The dignity of my master, the Junior Chess Sage, is inviolable. The dignity of the lineage of the Chess Sage is inviolable."

"Today, my master shall undoubtedly instruct Gu Dao on the proper way to conduct himself as a human being."

Mei Zisu was left utterly shattered in the wind. *What kind of monstrous disaster of a disciple have I taken in to deserve such retribution?*

*With which eye of yours did you see me wanting to teach him how to be a human being?*

Yuan Cong was left frozen in place, utterly embarrassed by Gu Ling’s declaration. Gu Dao, however, realized that this obnoxious brat had finally stirred up a catastrophe of monumental proportions.

It was time to kick him while he was down.

"Grand-Master, I know you wished to spare Mei Zisu's face, but look at the expressions and behavior of this master-disciple pair—do they deserve to have their faces saved?"

Yuan Cong thought to himself: *Who on earth meant that? I was merely afraid you would lose and compromise your own dignity.*

"Gu Dao, your arrogance knows no bounds! Kneel and kowtow in apology to my master!" Gu Ling deliberately fanned the flames.

Gu Dao chuckled coldly, thinking that this obnoxious brat had run the full length of his tether.

Assuming an expression of universal compassion, he declared:

"Gu Ling, though I despise your hypocrisy, your unprincipled pursuit of fame, and your coveting of my position as the legitimate heir..."

"I always regarded you as merely a child and indulged you by three points. Yet today I realize you are incapable of distinguishing right from wrong, utterly blind to friend and foe."

Hearing this, Gu Ling assumed Gu Dao was simply terrified, and let out a cold laugh, swaggering with supreme arrogance:

"If you are frightened, kowtow and apologize to my master! The lineage of the Chess Sage is not something you are qualified to insult. Stop putting on these useless, pathetic facades."

Gu Dao shook his head, driving the final nail into Gu Ling’s coffin:

"Chess knows no national boundaries, yet those who play chess each belong to a country. This man, Mei Zisu, came representing Southern Yue, aiming to strike down the chess culture of our Great Qian to achieve personal glory."

"With motives so malicious, you turn a blind eye, yet you crawl and grope in servile submission to call him master."

"He, Mei Zisu, strikes Great Qian across the face, yet you feel honored and proud of it."

"Devoid of patriotic sentiment, devoid of loyalty and righteousness, and utterly lacking the millennium-long tradition of moral integrity inherited by the Gu family—you disloyal, unrighteous, and shameless wretch, what face do you have to stand here?"

With Gu Dao’s thunderous roar, the shockwave that struck the hearts of the crowd felt like a bolt from the blue—and it hit far more than just Gu Ling.

In an instant, a wave of patriotic consciousness awakened within the hearts of many. Previously, they had never pondered such matters deeply, believing simply that the world of chess was one vast family.

Yet viewed in this light, Mei Zisu harbored no such lofty notions; he merely regarded the people of Great Qian as stepping stones for his own ambition.

*Chess knows no national boundaries, but people belong to their nations.*

What a deafening, truth-shattering realization! Why had none of them thought of this before?

Those who had previously yearned to become Mei Zisu’s disciples only to be rejected instantly flooded with relief, cold sweat drenching their backs.

Since the imperial court had consistently withheld its stance on this matter, it must have been coldly observing from the sidelines; missing their footing here would have spelled eternal regret.

How to prove one’s innocence? Simple—just curse Gu Ling.

Gu Ling felt a lump completely choke his throat, and though he opened his mouth several times, not a single sound emerged.

Gu Dao saw no need to bother with him further, for Gu Ling was already finished.

He reached out, grabbed a handful of black and white Go stones, and extended his hand before Mei Zisu.

Guessing odd or even to determine who played first, he issued a direct challenge.

Left with no avenue of escape, Mei Zisu drew a deep breath, composed his spirit, and made his guess.

Instantly, every single pair of eyes was drawn toward the two of them.

Mei Zisu won the initiative; the black stone fell upon the board.

This time, Gu Dao showed not an ounce of courtesy. Every stone he placed carried a bone-chilling killing intent, sealing off every exit and leaving no room for survival.

The scholars felt their hands itch with eagerness, yet they could only watch from afar.

For those permitted to crowd close were all high officials and esteemed authorities whom they dared not approach. Even so, everyone held their breath in absolute silence.

Terrified lest they disturb Gu Dao’s train of thought—after all, that was the Junior Chess Sage he was facing.

Unawares, through a single speech, Gu Dao had forged a unified wall of shared hatred against a common enemy among them all.