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

Shen Moyan took out a fennel bean from his pocket.

A commotion broke out in the classroom.

The girl in the front row with a ponytail exclaimed, "Teacher, you really brought it!"

Shen Moyan smiled and placed the fennel beans under the projector.

A giant, bumpy fennel bean appeared on the screen.

"Class, last lesson we talked about Kong Yiji's long gown. This lesson we will talk about his scholarship, what he was most proud of in this novel."

She pointed to the fennel beans on the screen and said, "He said there are four ways to write the character '茴' in '茴香豆'."

Shen Moyan wrote four characters on the blackboard: 回, 囘, 囬, 囗.

"These four ways of writing it, the first and second are two ways of writing the same character, like two names for the same person."

The third one is about the same.

The fourth type, strictly speaking, is not the character "回" at all, but another character.

But Kong Yiji didn't care about any of that.

Knowing these four ways of writing is enough to prove you're a scholar.

She turned around. "Why did Kong Yiji teach the tavern waiter to write the character '茴'? Why was he so excited?"

She left the question hanging in the air for a moment.

"Because this is the only time he can prove himself useful."

In this world, no one needs his knowledge.

The short-coated men don't need it, and neither does the shopkeeper.

Those children, they don't need them either.

But Kong Yiji needed it.

He needed to use these four writing styles to tell himself, "I am not useless, I am useful, and what I know has value."

Shen Moyan continued reading from the textbook.

When the teacher read, "Not much left, I don't have much left, not much, not much! Is it too much? It's not much at all," some people in the classroom laughed.

"Okay, stop."

Shen Moyan placed the chalk on the podium.

"I have a question for you."

Those of you who were laughing just now, what were you laughing at? Were you laughing at Kong Yiji's poor and shabby appearance, right?

But have you noticed something? This is the only time in the entire novel that Kong Yiji takes the initiative to communicate with someone and the only time he shows kindness.

This person, ridiculed by everyone, was willing to share his food with children, even though he himself was hungry.

She picked up the fennel bean and placed it in her palm.

"He taught the children to write the character '茴' not to show off; he genuinely believed that this knowledge was useful."

He told the young man that he should memorize these words.

I'll need this for bookkeeping when I become a shopkeeper in the future.

He didn't know that these words were completely unnecessary.

He wasn't lying; he was the one being lied to.

He treated pseudo-knowledge as a genuine treasure, wanting to pass it on to the next generation.

That's the most tragic thing.

What he learned in his life was all fake, but he didn't know it was fake.

She paused for a second.

"You laugh at him because you know these four ways of writing are useless."

But he didn't know.

Nobody told him.

His teachers didn't tell him, his classmates didn't tell him, and society didn't tell him.

He studied his whole life, yet in the end, he didn't even realize he'd been deceived.

The laughter in the classroom had long since stopped.

Shen Moyan turned to the second half of the text.

"Who can read this dialogue before Kong Yiji's last appearance?"

A girl by the window raised her hand.

One day, about two or three days before the Mid-Autumn Festival, the shopkeeper was slowly settling accounts and taking down the chalk board when he suddenly said: "Kong Yiji hasn't been here for a long time. He still owes nineteen coins!"

One of the drinkers said, "Why is he here? ...He broke his leg."

The shopkeeper said: Oh!

He still steals all the time. This time, he must have been out of his mind to steal from the Ding family. How could he possibly steal from their house?

What happened next?

How did it go? First, I had to write a confession, then I was beaten. They beat me for most of the night, and then they broke my leg.

and after?

Later, his leg was broken.

What if there's a discount?

How is it? ...Who knows? Maybe it's dead.

Shen Moyan placed the chalk on the podium.

She did not write anything on the blackboard.

She was silent for a few seconds, then spoke, her voice different from before.

"This passage, only a little over a hundred words long, is the most violent and darkest part of the entire novel. Let's look at it sentence by sentence."

She pointed to the text.

"First sentence: Did you steal his things?"

Kong Yiji had stolen books before, specifically from the He family, and was subsequently beaten for it.

But this time was different, because this time he stole something from a scholar who had passed the imperial examinations.

Ding's belongings were not ordinary things; they belonged to a scholar who had passed the imperial examinations. Stealing from a scholar's belongings is different from stealing from an ordinary person's.

She continued pointing downwards.

"The second sentence: First, he wrote a confession, then he was beaten. He was beaten for most of the night, and then his leg was broken."

Note this order: it's not about hitting first and then writing the confession, but about writing the confession first and then hitting.

Ding, the scholar, wanted more than just punishment; he wanted legality.

I want you to write it down yourself: You are wrong.

You broke into my scholar's house; you're a thief.

After the writing was finished, they used torture, beating people for most of the night. This was not a fight on impulse; it was a methodical form of punishment.

Scholar Ding had plenty of time, plenty of patience, and plenty of a sense of security.

He knew no one would stand up for Kong Yiji; he conducted the interrogation, sentencing, and execution all by himself in his own home.

He was a legislator, judge, and executioner all in one.

What the imperial examination system granted him was not fame and fortune, but power.

She pointed downwards again.

The third sentence: The shopkeeper said, "Oh!" Then the person drinking said, "Later, his leg was broken."

What did the shopkeeper say? He didn't say anything more.

No one in the story says anything more.

No one went to report it to the authorities.

No one spoke up for Kong Yiji.

Because everyone thinks this is normal.

It is perfectly justified for a scholar to beat a student who has only passed the imperial examination.

This logic has been running for a thousand years and is ingrained in everyone's bones.

She put down her textbook, walked to the blackboard, and wrote two words: Grade.

"From its original design, the imperial examination system was a great invention, more advanced than any other official selection system in the world at the time. However, over a thousand years of operation, it gradually became integrated with the feudal hierarchical order, growing a kind of toxicity that was more terrible than the old aristocratic system."

"The most fundamental problem with the imperial examination system was that it created an unprecedented new hierarchy in Chinese society based on examinations. This hierarchy was more terrifying than the previous aristocratic system because it was legal."

She drew a pyramid on the blackboard: Jinshi (进士) - Juren (举人) - Xiucai (秀才) - Tongsheng (童生).

"The first level is the junior scholar, who has passed the county and prefectural examinations but has not yet passed the provincial examination. This is the lowest level of scholars, and Kong Yiji is on this level."

The second level is the Xiucai, who passed the county-level examination and obtained a formal academic title. They were exempt from corvée labor and did not have to kneel before the county magistrate.

The third level is the Juren, who passed the provincial examination. Reaching this level means truly entering the privileged class, where one can become an official, receive a salary, and enjoy legal benefits.

The fourth level, the Jinshi degree, represents passing both the provincial and palace examinations; this is the pinnacle of the pyramid.

Kong Yiji was a student, the lowest level of scholars.

The scholar Ding who broke his leg was a scholar, a third-level scholar.

Kong Yiji stole books and was beaten. Later, he stole from the home of Scholar Ding.

Ding, the scholar, was a successful candidate in the imperial examinations, while Kong Yiji was a student who had only completed the preliminary examinations. Ding did not send anyone to an official post; he himself was an official.

First, he wrote a confession, then he beat me. He beat me for most of the night, then broke my leg. A human life was like an ant in his hands.

"Classmates, this is the hierarchy. It's not that he's bullying you; it's that you're inherently inferior to him."

He hit you, but he did it according to the rules.

The rules protect him, not you.

Xianglin's Wife and Kong Yiji.

One was consumed by traditional ethics, the other by the imperial examination system.

They eat the same thing, equating a person's value with their identity.

You remained chaste; you are a good woman.

If you pass the exam, you'll be someone of high standing.

You failed to uphold it; you are a "fallen species".

You failed the exam, so you deserved to have your leg broken.

This is the coldest part of the novel.

Even a hundred years later, reading this still sends chills down your spine.

She paused for a moment.

"But what's even more terrifying is that everyone thought it was normal. When the innkeeper heard that Kong Yiji's leg had been broken, he just said 'Oh.' None of the short-coated gang members asked Ding Juren why he had been so ruthless."

Because after a thousand years of the imperial examination system, the Chinese people had accepted the idea that those who passed the exams were of the upper class, and it was only natural for the upper class to treat the lower class as they saw fit.

"This is the real poison of the imperial examination system. It's not that the exams were difficult or the acceptance rate was low, but that it equated a person's value with their exam scores. If you passed, you were a superior person; if you failed, you were nothing."

This equation was not only upheld by the rulers, but also accepted by the ruled.

Not only did Ding Juren think it was a matter of course, but even Kong Yiji himself believed it.

He refused to take off that tattered long gown until his death because he believed in this hierarchy.

He believed that scholars were inherently superior to commoners, even if he was poorer, more miserable, and looked down upon by others.

The classroom fell silent.

Shen Moyan began, "Let me read the last paragraph to you."

The sunlight outside the window shone on the blackboard, illuminating the line "Kong Yiji is the only person who drinks standing up while wearing a long gown."

Shen Moyan's voice was soft, but steady.

"After that, Kong Yiji was not seen for a long time. At the end of the year, the shopkeeper took down the blackboard and said, 'Kong Yiji still owes nineteen coins!' At the Dragon Boat Festival of the following year, he said again, 'Kong Yiji still owes nineteen coins!' But he didn't say anything at the Mid-Autumn Festival, and he was not seen again at the end of the year."

She paused for a moment.

"I haven't seen him since, so it seems Kong Yiji is indeed dead."

She closed her textbook.

"These two sentences are the last two sentences of the entire novel, and also one of the most famous endings in all of Lu Xun's works."

Probably no one saw him die.

Indeed, everyone knew he couldn't possibly still be alive.

Two words with completely opposite meanings were forcibly placed in the same sentence.

This is not a grammatically incorrect sentence.

This is society's attitude towards a useless person: you're dead, but I'm not sure, and I don't want to bother to confirm, but you still owe me nineteen coins.

As darkness fell, the people beneath the sky remained with inscrutable expressions.

Yingchuan Commandery, during the reign of Emperor Zhang of Han.

"How could he die like this? He hadn't even become a high-ranking official yet," Zhang Laoshi lamented.

"A down-on-his-luck scholar who failed the imperial examinations... he's dead, so be it." A dark-skinned man busy beside him didn't even look up. "There are plenty of dead people, do we have to single them out and talk about them all? Is this generation really so idle, don't they have any work to do?"

Near the edge of the field, several middle-aged women who came to deliver food walked together.

"Tell me, Kong Yiji doesn't even know how to find a wife and live a proper life."

"Yes, he died all alone."

……