Chapter 811 – Wanzhou, Homecoming (9)
Everyone felt a daze, sensing an illusion as if a “whoosh whoosh whoosh” train was roaring past their ears.
Honestly, I don’t know where the other party found so many suggestive verses, or should I say that ancient folks were also seasoned drivers in matters of love?
【Shameless Jiqin Qinqin】: Yo? Is it Yao Yao Ling? We have a seasoned driver here, and things are getting out of control!
The Audience cheered for Wei Ci, curious about what this ancient gentleman, “standing like fragrant orchids and laughing like the moon entering one’s embrace,” would write in risqué snippets. Their curiosity was overwhelming; they wanted to urge Jiang Pengji to take a look right now—they would definitely binge-read!
As the saying goes, outsiders watch the spectacle while insiders observe the subtleties. The onlookers were hooping it up for the fun, but Jiang Pengji discerned Wei Ci’s deeper intentions. To her, the straightforward vernacular was a crucial step to enlighten the common folks; she hadn’t expected Wei Ci to bring it up in this manner.
“This is excellent; it must have been tough for you these days.”
She smiled, giving her affirmation.
“Doing my duty is simply the obligation of a subject, there’s nothing hard about it.”
Wei Ci maintained his humble stance, secretly relieved within.
To others, such vernacular novels might seem no different from babble, but it was undeniably a medium for spreading literacy!
The Common People couldn’t grasp convoluted texts or remember those awkward sentences. The simpler and more straightforward, the more it could be accepted by the lower classes.
Anything should be approached step by step; stable and steady was the way to go, especially in enlightening the public.
Rather than force-feeding lofty principles to the Common People, it was better to hide wisdom in stories, guiding them to explore.
Of course, not every story could be spread haphazardly.
Wei Ci was strict in this regard, even planning to gather a group of writers specifically for this content.
To expand his influence, he also sought Cheng Cheng’s assistance.
Now with the support of his own Lord, he felt confident that he could take this endeavor further.
As for those who criticized him for mingling with unrefined folks?
Wei Ci smirked sarcastically, too lazy to care.
Jiang Pengji asked around, and her understanding of the situation in Wanzhou became clearer, but…
She looked around, her gaze landing on Cheng Yuan seated near the front, and asked, “Gong Liao, isn’t Cheng Cheng here today?”
Cheng Yuan was Cheng Cheng’s second son, courtesy name Gong Liao. In his short half-year stay in Wanzhou, he had performed commendably.
For his age, he was indeed doing well.
With a gentle and humble temperament, he approached tasks sincerely and meticulously; he would be welcomed anywhere.
Cheng Yuan replied, “My father caught a chill last night. He saw the Young Doctor this morning, but his illness came on strongly, and he’s still bedridden.”
His face showed concern; it was clear that Cheng Cheng was truly unwell.
Jiang Pengji quickly inquired, “Cheng Cheng is sick? What did the Young Doctor say?”
Cheng Yuan said, “The Young Doctor mentioned that my father has been overwhelmed with worries, and the chill has triggered his accumulated ailments.”
Overworked?
Jiang Pengji’s expression froze momentarily, a hint of unease creeping in.
To an uninformed outsider, Cheng Cheng falling ill must be due to her harsh treatment, but Jiang Pengji hadn’t exploited Cheng Cheng at all.
“How could he fall ill from overwork?”
She frowned, and Cheng Yuan realized his words came out wrong, hurriedly correcting himself.
“My father is getting older, and lately, he’s been troubled over annotations. My mother has urged him several times, but he refuses to rest…” Cheng Yuan wore a helpless smile, “My father is stubborn; it’s quite hard for others to sway his decisions…”
Cheng Cheng’s sickness wasn’t from Jiang Pengji’s exploitation but from him overestimating his stamina, tirelessly working without taking a break.
Just yesterday, he worked late into the night, took a cold shower thinking it refreshing, and then didn’t pay attention while sleeping, and that’s how he got sick.
Jiang Pengji asked in surprise, “Annotations? What kind of annotations?”
Cheng Yuan replied, “My father said he got the inspiration for ‘annotations’ from Zixiao. The texts in ‘Zishi’ are overly obscure, and each piece lacks standardized punctuation, leading teachers to teach students with inconsistencies, creating misunderstandings. My father has been thinking about how to establish simple and clear punctuation and provide guidance for controversial texts.”
What is “punctuation”?
In ancient times, the places for pauses in sentences were termed “punctuations” or “reads.”
Nowadays, writings are continuous, devoid of punctuation marks, all crammed together.
To put it simply, what if a web novel had no punctuation whatsoever, no paragraph breaks—what would that mean?
Many nuances in punctuation are transmitted through oral traditions between teachers and students, inevitably causing errors.
Some teachers even cherish their own interpretations, slacking off on teaching the correct punctuation, which is truly astonishing.
Cheng Cheng had been fretting over this issue for days, and Wei Ci’s straightforward language gave him some inspiration.
Convoluted classical language can lead to various interpretations of the same line, causing erroneous understandings—then what about plain vernacular? Surely, no one would nitpick over words or take things out of context, spreading incorrect interpretations, right?
If he could nail down these “annotations,” future students would find it significantly easier to read, relieving many unnecessary misunderstandings.
However, there’s no absolute in literature or martial arts. The same text can yield different insights depending on the reader.
Cheng Cheng alone wasn’t qualified to annotate all books of the world; even if he put his heart and soul into it, would others recognize him?
This was a tough problem that had Cheng Cheng distressed.
Another difficulty was “punctuation.” He planned to use meaningful symbols for punctuation, but it wasn’t something decided by one opinion alone. Different punctuation for the same sentence can convey entirely different meanings—Cheng Cheng had numerous worries!
With all these pressures, wouldn’t Cheng Cheng fall ill?
Both “punctuation” and “annotations,” either one thrown out could provoke the condemnation of scholars everywhere.
To put it bluntly, who did Cheng Cheng think he was?
What qualification did he have to call himself “Teacher of the World”?
Yes, if he could pull these two things off, Cheng Cheng would certainly leave a mark in history.
Unabashedly—every student benefitting from him would probably regard him as a “half-teacher.”
Jiang Pengji saw through the internal troubles at a glance and said, “This matter is indeed tricky; relying solely on Cheng Cheng’s strength, it might be difficult to accomplish. Why not wait until the eastern celebration’s northern situation stabilizes, then invite the eminent scholars from the world to participate?”
Cheng Yuan sighed; he and Jiang Pengji shared the same opinion, but his father was too stubborn to turn back after hitting a wall.
Only if the Lord’s power was stronger would Cheng Cheng’s words carry more weight, and he would encounter less resistance.
He planned to persuade him again once Cheng Cheng’s health improved.
This was a matter that could very well invite criticism from scholars everywhere, so it was best to approach it cautiously.
By the time Jiang Pengji finished her busywork, the orange sun had gradually sunk below the horizon.
Night fell, and the celebratory banquet commenced.
