A live-streamed Chinese language lesson under the sky—the ancients were taken aback.

Shen Moyan turned back to the first page of the text.

Let's look at the first paragraph of the article first.

"The layout of the hotels in Luzhen is different from other places; they all have a large, L-shaped counter facing the street."

Shen Moyan turned around and drew a large L-shaped countertop on the blackboard.

"Look at this counter. The hotels in Luzhen are different from other places. Hotels elsewhere have tables and chairs, but Luzhen has a counter. Why? Because the hotels in Luzhen have two kinds of customers."

The first type is the laborers in short coats, who do manual labor. They lean against the counter, spend four coins to buy a bowl of wine, drink it standing up, and then leave.

The second type is the wealthy and respectable man in a long gown. He strolls into the room next to the shop, orders wine and dishes, and sits down to drink slowly.

She drew a group of little people standing in front of the counter, and a few little people sitting behind the counter.

Then a line was drawn between the two groups of people.

"There's a line, this side is for standing and drinking, that side is for sitting and drinking. Who set this line? The imperial examination system."

You've passed the exam, so you're now a long-gown guest. Sit over there.

"You didn't pass; you're just a low-sleeved person, standing outside the counter."

She opened her textbook and continued reading: "Kong Yiji was the only person who drank standing up while wearing a long gown."

She wrote the sentence on the blackboard and drew two horizontal lines on it.

"This sentence is the most important sentence in the entire novel. Classmates, Kong Yiji's entire life is hidden in this sentence."

She pointed to the people drawn on the blackboard, "He is wearing a long gown, so he should be a long gown man, but he is standing and drinking, so he is actually a short-coat man."

He's stuck in the middle, neither side counts.

He was the only one in the group of short-coated men to wear a long gown, and also the only one among those wearing long gowns to drink while standing.

He belongs neither here nor there.

He was caught in the middle.

She turned around.

"What did his long gown look like? Lu Xun wrote it very clearly: it was dirty and tattered, as if it hadn't been patched or washed for more than ten years."

It's not that he didn't want to wash it; it's just that it's his only set of clothes.

It wasn't that he didn't want to sit next door; he simply didn't have the money for drinks or food.

But he was still wearing that tattered long gown.

Why not take it off?

Because this tattered long gown was the only difference between him and the short-coated gang.

If he took it off, he would fall completely.

Once he takes it off, he'll be just like any other farmer, laborer, or manual laborer.

He studied for so many years, memorized so many classical texts; if he took off his long gown, all of that would be for nothing.

So this long gown is his destiny.

"This is the only thing in the world that proves Kong Yiji wasn't from the lower class."

She put down the chalk.

"Let me give you a scenario: You've graduated from university, can't find a job, and are dirt poor. But every day you go out wearing your only graduation gown or suit, the cuffs are torn, the collar is dirty, but you still wear it. You go to a convenience store to buy instant noodles, stand in front of the cashier, take out a few coins from your pocket, and someone next to you is laughing at you. You pretend not to hear it and say to the cashier, 'Warm up a bowl of instant noodles and a dish of pickled vegetables.'"

This sounds ridiculous, but that's how Kong Yiji lived.

The classroom fell silent for a moment, and some students with strong empathy showed sympathy.

"Does wearing a long gown make you a superior person?"

No, the significance of the long gown is that it distinguishes you from the lower classes.

But if you've already fallen to the bottom and are still wearing a long gown, that difference becomes a scar.

So the short-coat shopkeepers laughed at him, and the long-gown shopkeepers didn't recognize him.

He became a joke.

"Let's continue." Shen Moyan turned a page of the textbook, "Kong Yiji's first appearance and dialogue."

"As soon as Kong Yiji entered the shop, all the drinkers looked at him and laughed. Some shouted: Kong Yiji, you have a new scar on your face! He did not answer, but said to the counter: Warm two bowls of wine and a plate of fennel beans, and then took out nine copper coins."

Shen Moyan turned around and wrote a single character on the blackboard: "排" (pái, meaning "line up").

"It's not about taking out money, it's about lining it up, one bill at a time, on the counter so everyone can see that I have money and I'm a legitimate customer."

She pointed to the word, "This action is very solemn, even a bit ceremonial. It's like a penniless person trying to maintain the last bit of dignity."

"We'll have someone read the next paragraph."

A boy wearing glasses raised his hand, and then the text continued to be read: "They deliberately shouted loudly: You must have stolen someone's things again!"

Kong Yiji opened his eyes wide and said: How can you slander someone's innocence like this...

What innocence? I saw you steal the He family's book with my own eyes the day before yesterday, and you were beaten black and blue.

Kong Yiji's face flushed red, and the veins on his forehead bulged as he argued, "Stealing books can't be considered stealing... Stealing books! How can something done by a scholar be considered stealing?"

Shen Moyan leaned against the podium.

"Okay, did everyone notice? Kong Yiji didn't deny the act of stealing; he denied the word 'steal.'"

The same thing—taking someone else's book and not returning it—is called stealing by an ordinary person, but it's called burglary by a scholar.

He set two standards.

Who taught him this way of thinking?

She paused for a moment.

"It was the imperial examination system. The imperial examination system told the world that as long as you could pass the exam, you would be a superior person."

People who are superior to others are different from ordinary people.

When someone who is superior to others does the same thing, it's not called stealing, it's called taking.

It's not called robbery, it's called requisition.

When Scholar Ding broke his leg, he was thinking the same thing.

I didn't hit a person, I hit a thief.

A thief broke into the home of a scholar who had passed the imperial examinations, and I punished him according to the rules.

I set the rules.

Because I am a successful candidate in the imperial examinations.

In a dilapidated teahouse.

A group of dockworkers listened to the celestial music. Someone said that stealing is wrong, and breaking a leg is too harsh, but if you don't steal, then nothing will happen.

A young worker muttered that if he hadn't worn that tattered long gown and had honestly come to work, he might have been able to find a job. But looking like that, who would be willing to help him?

The Hanlin Academy, Sun Jiagan's study.

The old scholar snorted through his nose.

Stealing books is stealing. A virtuous person remains steadfast in poverty, while a petty person becomes reckless when poor. Even Confucius, when he was starving in Chen and Cai, did not steal anything.

A young aide next to him whispered, "But Tianmu said he's studied his whole life and still can't afford to eat."

Sun Jiagan interrupted him: "He studied his whole life but couldn't pass the exam. Who can he blame? If he were truly knowledgeable, how could he not pass? I think he just didn't try hard enough."

In Guangzhou Prefecture, at Fan Jin's home.

Fan Jin sat at the table, where the porridge had already gone cold.

On the sky, Shen Moyan is telling the story of Kong Yiji being beaten for stealing books.

His wife was washing dishes in the kitchen, and the chopsticks and bowls were clattering loudly.

She suddenly said, "If you also go to steal books, I'm going back to my parents' house."

Fan Jin was stunned.

"I didn't steal it..."

"I know you didn't steal it."

She turned around, wiping her hands on her apron. "But you've been taking the exam for twenty years, Old Zhang took it for thirty years and died, Old Li took it for twenty-five years and went mad. If you become like them..."

Her voice suddenly choked, "What will I do if you become like that?"

Fan Jin remained silent for a long time.

Then he picked up the bowl of cold porridge and drank it sip by sip.

The porridge was very thin, reflecting his face, which was pale and thin, with wrinkles on his forehead.

"If I still don't pass the exam next year," he said, "I'll go farm."

The wife did not answer.

But she stopped washing the dishes.

After a long while, she hummed in agreement.