Chapter 84: A Fundamental Difference

Shen Liang, upon hearing the news, immediately stood up and volunteered, “Lord Bao, allow us to help as well.”

Bao Zheng nodded, then paused to add, “The Shen family knows horses well. We must recover the warhorses.”

“Rest assured, my lord, I will do everything in my power.” With that, he took his son and hurried away.

At Shen Liang's departure, Bao Zheng realized his hopes might not be fulfilled. “What a pity! Confucianism is in decline, while Buddhism and Daoism flourish…”

Though Bao Zheng was the Lord of Stars, the Song Dynasty was in a period where Confucianism had waned and Buddhism and Daoism prevailed, plunging the realm into an age of ideological confusion. After all, the Song had come to power without legitimacy, and the Confucian doctrines of sovereign and subject did not sit well with the Zhao family. The idea that “if the ruler wishes a subject to die, the subject must comply” would be rejected by the rulers themselves.

In such circumstances, if the Shen family was unwilling to reveal their horse-rearing secrets, Bao Zheng could do little.

It was at this moment that Bao Zheng began contemplating the need for education. For among all the philosophies, only Confucianism offered a solution—its teachings promised patriotism, honesty, and care for the elderly.

History would later prove this to be a grand illusion. Both the Ming and Qing dynasties were led astray by such rhetoric.

But Bao Zheng knew nothing of the Ming or Qing dynasties, and, before Confucianism had ruined several dynasties, it still held sway; otherwise, Neo-Confucianism would never have developed in the Song.

Of course, aside from Confucian scholars, no one truly wished for a world where a subject must die at the ruler’s whim. Even the Confucians themselves did not desire such a world; they merely proposed it for power.

Meanwhile, Shen Liang and Shen Shi rode away from the county office. Once home, they did not immediately mobilize their men.

“Father, do you not wish to retrieve the lost warhorses?” Shen Shi asked.

“Shi'er, do you think your father is too selfish, too shortsighted?”

Shen Shi had guessed correctly. While galloping home, he had pondered the matter and indeed did not want to retrieve the horses.

Shen Liang said, “Over the years, I’ve come to understand: without a foundation for survival, our family will only decline. I, too, wish to learn the examination system, but who would teach me? Now I realize that our equine expertise is the very foundation of our family's survival.”

“Father, do you truly believe that?” Shen Shi asked.

He nodded, then asked, “And what do you think, Shi'er?”

“Father is right,” Shen Shi replied with a smile. “This world is fair—one must give to receive. Without reward, there is no reason to give…”

“Eh? What do you mean?” Shen Liang was puzzled.

“Nothing. I only meant that I support any decision you make,” Shen Shi replied with a smile.

“Very well, let us gather our people at once. This time, you will come too. We must recover the warhorses. After all, Lord Bao has shown us rare kindness. I will not reveal our family’s secrets, but I will not see him lose his position because of this,” Shen Liang said.

“Yes, I will do as you say, Father.”

Whatever Shen Liang wished, Shen Shi would not refuse, even if it meant giving up their horse-rearing technique. But if his father chose not to, no one could force them—not even Bao Zheng, not even the Lord of Stars. All things under heaven require a step forward; otherwise, all remain the same. Even if Bao Zheng took that step, the Shen family would still have him.

This was a change in his state of mind. Shen Shi was no longer the newcomer obsessed with meeting famous people. The path had brought him to this point; his inner self was awakening. Now, were he to meet Yan Chixia, he would feel little excitement. Perhaps if he met Lü Dongbin… well, that would be different—he was part of the Human School, after all. But even that excitement would be for the Way, not the man.

Such is enlightenment of the Way.

To put it plainly, cultivation is the cultivation of the true self. Before his true self, Shen Shi valued his family above all, not Bao Zheng.

His feelings for Bao Zheng were akin to those of a fan—an illusion that fades with time. No star, however bright, could surpass the importance of family.

The cultivation method of the Human School is essentially rational, yet Shen Shi did not wish to be too rational. Otherwise, he would be off cultivating in some blessed land like the Eight Immortals, rather than staying at home. But perhaps this too was a kind of rationality—a choice between humanity and detachment. The marvel of any cultivation method lies in one’s own heart. Nowhere does the Way demand that it be found only in sacred mountains; the mortal world is also a place to temper the heart.

“Good! Take your bow and blade. We set out now.”

The commotion in the household naturally alarmed Shen’s wife.

“What are you two planning?” Her face had gone pale, and she clung to Shen Liang as he strapped on his bow case. “There are horse thieves out there—why must you go out?”

Seeing her concern, Shen Liang patted her hand gently. “I am not alone. Shi’er is with me. With his skills, can you not rest assured?”

“I forbid you to go!”

She gripped his hand tightly and would not let go.

Shen Shi, rubbing his nose with a wry smile, explained, “Mother, this is not just about horse thieves. Everyone knows our family manages the stud farm. If someone steals the horses and we do nothing, what will people think of us? Next, they might come for our pig-rearing technique or our porcelain-making secrets. Should we ignore that too?”

“No! That absolutely won’t do! Those are the roots of our family’s survival. If anyone dares touch them, I’ll fight them to the end!”

Shen’s wife loved her husband and bore hardship without complaint, but anyone threatening her family’s well-being would find her just as fierce. Such is human nature—being a woman makes her no different.

“Then that settles it,” Shen Shi said, slinging his quiver over his shoulder.

Just as he was about to leave, his mother stopped him—this time barring Shen Shi himself.

“Mother, is there something else?” he asked.

After a moment’s thought, she said, “Shi’er, you need not go. Let your father handle it.”

“Huh? Why?”

“I’ve thought it over. Your father wants to repay Lord Bao’s kindness, that’s why you’re going after the horse thieves, right?”

Ah—such is the bond of husband and wife. She understood her husband, guessing seven or eight parts right without a word spoken.

Certain of her judgment, she continued, “But you are different. You have no official duties. There’s no need for you to risk your life!”

Her logic was sound, and Shen Shi was almost left speechless. Almost, but not quite. “Mother, you’re right. But if Father goes to risk his life, how can his son stand by and do nothing?”

“Why not? Years ago, your grandaunt hid away for over a decade for a cousin; even the emperor didn’t know where she was. He himself came to her house and knelt in supplication…”

Did their family have such remarkable kin—someone for whom the emperor would kneel? He had never heard of this.

But now was not the time to ask. Having matured, Shen Shi’s attitude was that all great power must come from within. Otherwise, he would not have dismissed Duke Cao’s fortune-accumulating path to immortality.

Shen Shi cultivated fortune as well, but only to attract more of the world’s rare spiritual energy to himself, to encounter and absorb more, so that both body and spirit would grow stronger. It was not about piling up fortune to ascend by luck; his approach was fundamentally different.