When I first met Yu An, I didn't go far, so I quickly turned back to the gate of the Confucian Mansion.

"You wait for me outside, I'll be out soon." I jumped off my horse, ran up the steps and knocked on the door of the Confucian Mansion.

"It's coming—" The one who opened the door was Jia Zaiping in the Confucian Mansion, who was holding Kong Qiu's grandson, Kong Ling, who was less than three years old.

"Housekeeper, is the master asleep?" I stepped through the door and saluted.

"Not yet, the lights are still on. How did the gentleman come back so soon? But forgot to take something? The housekeeper hugged Xiao Kongling and bowed slightly, leading me to the house.

"I didn't forget anything, but I just got the news on the way back, saying that something happened to Xinjiang's family, so I rushed back to Jin Kingdom in the next two days. Before leaving, I wanted to say goodbye to my master. I quickened my pace and walked to the side of the housekeeper, "Housekeeper, there are still some herbs left from Senior Brother Duanmu that I bought earlier, and I will divide them into one point according to the recipe later, you only need to add two bowls of water to decoction and boil according to the amount I have divided every day." In addition, the Master's leg injury should be changed frequently, and the old medicine mud must be cleaned before each dressing change before applying new medicine. ”

"Thank you, sir, for remembering, I have written it down." The old man nodded in response, "It's a pity, Mr. has only been here for two days, and he will have to go back so soon." The head of the house must be sad to find out. ”

"The Kingdom of Jin and the Kingdom of Lu are not too far away, and I will definitely come back to visit my master when I have the opportunity in the future. Xiao Kong Ling, when you grow up, can you also come to the Jin Kingdom to see Uncle Ziyan? I smiled and touched Kong Ling's little head. Kong Ling is the only son of Kong Carp, and he was born smart and clever. After the death of his father, Kong Li, his mother soon remarried to Weiguo. Now, he is the only one in this Confucian Mansion who lives with the elderly Kongqiu.

"Okay." Kong Ling looked at me and nodded milkily, then opened her mouth and yawned loudly.

I smiled and stroked his delicate cheeks, and said to the housekeeper: "The child seems to be a little sleepy, the housekeeper should take him back to the house to sleep first, and I will go to the master's place by myself." ”

The housekeeper lowered his head and glanced lovingly at the child in his arms with eyelids fighting, smiled and bowed and retreated.

"Master, I want to see you." I walked to the front of Kongqiu's bedchamber, and after straightening my robe, I knocked on the wooden door.

There was no reaction in the silence of the room, and looking at the closed door, a sense of foreboding suddenly rose in my heart.

"Master, have you slept? Disciple is coming in! I waited outside the door for a while, and when there was no answer in the house, I stretched out my hand and pushed the door open.

With a creak, the door opened. I took off my cloth shoes and looked at them, only to find that Kong Qiu was lying diagonally behind the desk.

"Master—" I bowed my head into the house and helped Kong Qiu up, "Master, what's wrong with you?" Can you hear me? ”

"Hmm-" Kong Qiu woke up with a muffled snort, he looked at me with half-open eyes, and there were still undried tears on his wrinkled face, "Pick up, why are you back again......"

"Master, what's wrong with you? Fang Cai is obviously fine. I looked at the tears on his face, listened to his choked and hoarse voice, and my nose was sour, "Master, if you feel uncomfortable, just say it, don't hold it in your heart." ”

"Hey, I'm fine." Kongchu shook his head, struggling to sit up. His hand rested on the mat and pressed down a bloody streak.

"Master, your hands bleed?" I reached out to grab Kongqiu's hand, but I saw a half-broken bamboo pen in his hand. I picked up the bamboo pen on the ground, and soon found the other half-truncated pen on the desk, "Master, what are you doing here?" I clutched the two truncated pens in my hand tightly and looked at Conciula in disbelief.

Kong Qiu sat up, he looked down at the bamboo slips on the desk, and there were tears in his gloomy eyes: "If I didn't write it, I shouldn't have written it a long time ago, if I didn't write "Spring and Autumn", if I didn't let Yan Hui sort out the ancient books, he might not die." I'm tired of him, he's still so young......" Kongqiu gently stroked the words on the bamboo slip with his thin, cracked hand. Under the flickering light, the few drops of dark red stains in the lower right corner of the bamboo slips looked particularly dazzling.

"Master, it is your wish to collect and organize the scattered ancient books, and it is also Senior Brother Yan's own ideal! What a joyful thing it is for a person to be able to strive for his ideals without distraction in this life. When Senior Brother Yan finished writing this book, he must have been happy in his heart. If he were still alive now, he would not want to see his master break his pen for him! ”

"I know you won't blame me, but I won't do "Spring and Autumn" again." Kong Qiu lowered his head and silently rolled up the book, "I wrote "Spring and Autumn" back then to let the rebellious ministers and thieves in the world restrain themselves because they were afraid of the verbal criticism of future generations. But today, they have no shame, and there is no point in doing it again. My life...... In the end, nothing will be accomplished! By the end, Kongqiu was choked up and unable to utter a complete sentence.

"If the master takes assisting the monarch and enriching the country and strengthening the people as his ideal in his life, then naturally he cannot be compared with Guan Zi and Yan Zi. But in his opinion, the master has an incomparable success in this life. You have us, you have 3,000 disciples all over the world, and you have this book that can be passed on from generation to generation to educate future generations. ”

"Pick, I have a word I want to ask you." Hearing my words, Kongqiu suddenly raised his head.

"Master, please ask." I saluted.

"Can my way stop the troubled world?"

I didn't expect Kong Qiu to ask such a question at this time, and I was stunned for a moment. How should I answer him? Do you want to say what is in your heart, or do you say a few pleasant words to comfort him first?

I thought about it in my mind for a moment, and finally shook my head: "No." The disciple believes that the way of the Master cannot stop the troubled times. ”

"Why?"

"The disciple dares to ask the master, why is there chaos in this world?"

"The king is not the king, the minister is not the minister, the father is not the father, the son is not the son, the etiquette and music collapse, and the morality is degraded."

"The Master's meaning is that as long as each of us does what we should do and abides by the established moral principles, then we can achieve an orderly world, a world free of wars?"

"Yes."

"Master, the phrase 'do your own thing' sounds simple, but it is not easy to do it in such troubled times. If a person can be moral in the condition of safety and prosperity, it is already very valuable in the eyes of his disciples. But what the Master expects is that people can still uphold etiquette, righteousness and morality in times of danger and precariousness. It's too difficult, it's a requirement for a gentleman, a requirement for a virtuous man. Lu Gong couldn't keep the etiquette because he was afraid of Ji Sun; Chen Heng killed Jun because he didn't kill the Marquis of Qi, and it was his Chen family who died. In such troubled times, everyone has their own things to fear. Princes, Qing clans, doctors, and concubines, everyone is the same. At such a time, if you want them to be gentlemen, they will naturally not be able to do it. I couldn't help but pause when I said this, deeply afraid that my words just now had hurt this old man who was already in deep mourning.

"Go on." Kongqiu looked at me and smiled unexpectedly. Even though his smile faded quickly, I still caught the relief in that smile.

I took a deep breath and continued: "Now no matter what country you are in, from princes to concubines, everyone thinks most about not morality, but survival. If everyone in the world is a gentleman, then the Master's concept of governing the country with propriety can naturally be realized, and the troubled times will come to an end. It's just that how many real gentlemen are there in this world? In the eyes of the disciples, the way of the master is the 'way of man', the way is among the people, inherited by the people, and the benefit is not in the present, but after thousands of generations. One hundred years, one thousand years, when the troubled times end, when all of us turn to dust, when the peasants who cultivate the land and the woodcutters who cut wood, when everyone in the world can understand etiquette, righteousness and morality through learning, perhaps the supreme ideal in the master's heart that the old will have their end, the strong will be useful, the young will grow, the widows, the lonely and the sick will be supported. ”

Confucius listened to my words and was silent for a long time, and I knelt in front of him and waited quietly for his response.

Finally, he told me that what I had just said was exactly what he had done in the first place to collect ancient books and compile poems, books, rites, music, and Yi. He wanted the disciples of Confucius to open private schools and educate Li Shu in all countries in the world, and he wanted to use this to hand over his unrealized ideals to future generations. He said that he was powerless to save this troubled world, but he was able to educate more people to think about ways to save the world. Someday, perhaps, someone will prescribe a prescription that can truly save the world.

During our conversation, time passed in a blink of an eye, and it wasn't until Yu An knocked on our door that I realized that I had been in the Confucian Mansion for more than an hour.

Wuxian and Si'er are still waiting for me at home, and I haven't had time to ask about the news that Zhang Meng talked about, and now it's time to separate. I got up to say goodbye to Kongchu, but this time I truthfully identified myself with Wuxian.

Confucius did not blame us for the concealment before, but he was extremely glad that he was able to have a deep conversation with Zhao Ying's son, Shi Mo's disciple. Seeing that Kong Qiu praised Shi Mo's attainments in Yi Xue, I excitedly told him that Shi Mo had been inspired by him and had already begun to sort out all kinds of ancient books of the Jin Kingdom in Xinjiang City. Hearing my words, Kongqiu suddenly burst into tears. Only this time, he had a long-lasting smile on his lips.

Kong Qiu carried me and Yu An to the gate on crutches, and I bowed to him as I did when I was apprenticing to him.

"Master, the disciple is leaving."

"Go, have a chance to come to Qufu to visit us again." Kongqiu leaned over and helped me up.

"Hmm." I bent down and saluted again, turned over and sat down behind Yu An, "Master, go in quickly, you have an injury on your leg and can't stand for a long time." ”

"Got it, go ahead." Kongqiu smiled and nodded at me.

Yu An led me forward on horseback, but Kong Qiu stood motionless outside the gate of the mansion and watched us leave. I watched him get smaller and smaller, and finally he was completely engulfed in darkness, and my heart ached.

"What's wrong with you?" Yu An noticed my strangeness and turned his head to ask.

"It's nothing, I just feel a little sad." I hugged Yu An's waist and turned my head to look at the silver moon in the air. The world is only going to get more and more chaotic, and all of us are struggling painfully in the dark, but no one knows where the fire of light is.

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Author's Note: The year was 481 B.C.; In this year, Yan Hui, Confucius's favorite student, died; This year, Lu Gong and Ji Sun refused to send troops to attack Qi; In this year, Confucius stopped writing "Spring and Autumn"; This year, only two years before the death of Confucius.

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