Starting with ten elixirs of immortality, I led the First Emperor to rebel against the Qin Dynasty.

Fusu suppressed his anger, snorted coldly, and confidently explained, "Of course I know. The interpretation of this saying is that if one hears the truth in the morning, one would be willing to die that night. This is the determination of a sage in pursuing the truth!"

"Wrong! Utterly wrong!"

Zhao Huan slapped his thigh and loudly retorted.

My teacher said that the real meaning of this sentence is—

"If I find out the way to your house this morning, you will die by tonight! Even Jesus couldn't save you, I'm telling you!"

"Pfft—cough cough cough!"

Li Si, who had been trying hard to suppress his laughter, could no longer hold back. He spat out a mouthful of tea, which choked him and caused him to cough violently, his old face turning red.

Ying Zheng couldn't help but raise the corners of his mouth in an exaggerated arc, but as the emperor, he forcibly suppressed his smile. However, his constantly trembling shoulders betrayed his true feelings at that moment.

Fusu, on the other hand, stood frozen in place as if struck by lightning.

Looking at Zhao Huan, who was spouting wild words, and then at Li Si, who was laughing so hard he was about to pass out, and Bai Qi, who had an "I see" expression on his face, and his father, who was trying hard to suppress his laughter.

His worldview completely collapsed at that moment.

Fusu stood blankly in the middle of the courtyard, his mind buzzing.

I found out the way to your house in the morning, so you have to die tonight?

This... these are the words of a sage?

This is clearly the slang of mountain bandits!

Looking at Zhao Huan's smug expression of "I'm right," he felt his blood rush to his head and his vision go black.

"You...you...you're distorting the classics! You're just making things up!" Fusu's voice trembled. He pointed at Zhao Huan, wanting to say something in rebuttal, but because of the sages he had learned, he couldn't say anything.

Zhao Huan chuckled inwardly as he looked at Fusu, who was on the verge of fainting.

You think you can mess with me? I have the wisdom of the entire internet in my head.

"Brother, don't be so quick to dismiss it." Zhao Huan walked over, patted Fusu on the shoulder, and said earnestly, "Think about it again carefully, doesn't it make sense?"

"Think about it again. Confucius said, 'A gentleman is not a vessel.' What does 'not a vessel' mean?"

Fusu subconsciously replied, "A gentleman should not be like a tool, having only a single purpose, but should be learned and versatile, pursuing all-round development..."

"You're wrong again!" Zhao Huan waved his hand, interrupting him.

"The meaning of 'A gentleman is not a vessel' is that a true master never uses weapons in a fight!"

"Think about it, using knives and swords, that's so low-class! That's what thugs do. Real bosses just walk up to them, 'smack!' a big slap across the face, 'bang!' a flurry of punches, and they're beating the other guy to his knees, begging for mercy!"

"This is what it means to 'win people over with virtue'! To influence him with love!"

Fusu's body began to sway, and he felt his knees go weak.

Winning people over with virtue... is that like using wild, unorthodox methods?

爱的感化……是把人揍到喊爸爸？

He turned his head with difficulty to look at his father, hoping that his father would stand up and stop the madman's nonsense.

However, he only saw Ying Zheng sitting upright, his face expressionless, but his eyes full of approval and encouragement.

Yes, it's praise!

The Emperor actually approves of such fallacies and heresies.

Fusu's heart sank to the bottom.

"And another thing," Zhao Huan said, seeing that Fusu was not speaking, he assumed that Fusu was thinking seriously, so he decided to add fuel to the fire, "Confucius also said, 'The Master did not speak of strange phenomena, physical prowess, disorder, or spirits.'"

"Do you think this means that Confucius didn't discuss strange phenomena, strength, rebellion, or ghosts and spirits?"

Fusu no longer wanted to answer.

He had a premonition that the explanation that followed would only make him more devastated.

Sure enough, Zhao Huan chuckled, revealing a set of white teeth.

"My teacher's explanation was, 'I don't want to talk to you, so I used my superhuman strength to beat you senseless!'"

"Look, 'The Master did not speak' means he didn't want to talk to you. 'Strange powers, disorder, and spirits' means using supernatural forces to disrupt your mind. How simple, how direct, how domineering!"

Fusu: "..."

He's given up on thinking. All he wants now is a quiet place to calm down.

He felt that he might need to re-understand the world and relearn the Analects.

No, perhaps that book wasn't even called "The Analects" at all.

Zhao Huan seemed to read his mind and said with a grin, "So, brother, you shouldn't call that book 'The Analects' anymore. 'The Analects' is a variant character; its original name should be 'The Analects of Confucius'!"

"Swing! Swing your arm around!"

As Zhao Huan spoke, he made a gesture of raising his fist and punching forward.

"The whole book is actually Confucius setting rules for his three thousand disciples, teaching them how to navigate the world and how to 'reason' with their fists!"

Commentary...

Fusu's vision went completely black.

He staggered back two steps, plopped back down on the small stool, his eyes vacant, muttering to himself.

"Lunyu...lunyu...so it was lunyu..."

"Yes! It's 'The Art of Martial Arts'!" Zhao Huan nodded emphatically. "From now on, we brothers will study this book together and carry forward the true essence of Confucius's martial arts!"

Fusu swayed and almost fell off the bench.

He didn't want to do any more research; all he wanted now was to die.

Seeing Fusu's distraught state, Zhao Huan decided to let Fusu process his emotions on his own so that he wouldn't overreact.

Ying Zheng was extremely satisfied with Fusu's state of being thoroughly toyed with.

That's how it has to be. How can we fill this kid's head with new ideas if we don't smash those deeply ingrained Confucian ideas?

Huan'er's method, though crude, is remarkably effective!

It's much more effective than using a belt to pull yourself out.

Clearing his throat, he decided to end the "lesson".

"Alright, alright, it's getting late, let's get ready to eat."

Only after Ying Zheng spoke did the atmosphere in the courtyard return to normal.

Zhao Huan chuckled, replied "Okay," and turned to go into the kitchen to prepare dinner.

Li Si finally recovered, tidied his appearance, and resumed his prime ministerial demeanor, though he occasionally glanced at Fusu with an undisguised smile.

Only Fusu remained seated there, like a petrified statue. Only two words echoed endlessly in his mind.

Talking... Talking...

Dinner was prepared quickly.

Having lived alone for ten years, Zhao Huan's culinary skills were naturally superb. Although his dishes weren't as exciting as hot pot or barbecue, he still managed to make a few simple home-style stir-fries that were delicious and visually appealing.

A plate of stir-fried shredded pork with green peppers, a plate of hot and sour shredded potatoes, and a plate of Mapo tofu, served with freshly cooked white rice.

These dishes were also novel and delicious to Ying Zheng, Bai Qi, Li Simeng, and Tian.

The Mapo Tofu, in particular, was numbing, spicy, and piping hot, with a smooth and tender texture and rich flavor. The group ate until they were sweating and exclaimed how delicious it was.

The atmosphere at the dinner table gradually warmed up.

Ying Zheng picked up a piece of shredded meat from Zhao Huan's plate and said with a smile, "Huan'er, your cooking skills are getting better and better."