HCB Chapter 239 Assassination of Zhang Liang
Chapter 239 Assassination of Zhang Liang
The sky over Huaiyang was a clear, deep blue, and the golden sunlight poured down, casting a soft glow over this ancient city. Just recently, a light snowfall had quietly blanketed the earth in a silvery white.
At this moment, Zhang Liang was walking slowly along the road leading to Huaiyang Academy. The path wound its way through the mountains, ancient trees towering on both sides, their branches bent low with snow, and occasionally a snowflake or two would drift down gently. Along the way, Zhang Liang encountered many students, some hurrying along, others leisurely, but all greeting him with a smile. However, despite these enthusiastic greetings, Zhang Liang remained calm and aloof, responding only faintly to each one, as if everything around him were irrelevant.
As Zhang Liang walked, he suddenly heard a low murmur coming from not far away. The voice was soft, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet path.
One of them said, "Look at Zhang Liang, he's fair-skinned and clean-cut, like a pretty boy. But he's always sick in winter, and he's taken so many days off this month!"
Another person chimed in, "Exactly! Look at him, always putting on that arrogant, haughty act. Humph, doesn't he realize that South Korea has long since fallen? What right does he have to be so arrogant?"
Then another person chimed in: "I really don't understand. With his sickly physique, how could so many women be infatuated with him? Are those girls blind?"
Someone retorted, "That's not true. Those who are infatuated with him are all unmarried women. If someone were to actually marry him, they would know how boring their future life would be." This was followed by a burst of laughter.
Zhang Liang seemed oblivious to these harsh comments, continuing to walk forward with steady, slow steps. A cold wind brushed his face, ruffling a few strands of hair on his forehead, but his gaze remained unwavering, revealing an extraordinary calmness and composure. It seemed that the clamor and ridicule of the outside world could not shake his heart in the slightest.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows as Zhang Liang walked steadily into the academy. He calmly knelt down in front of his usual seat. However, his appearance elicited different reactions from those around him. Some merely glanced at him indifferently before continuing to bury themselves in their books; others pretended not to see him, as if he were invisible; still others made no attempt to hide their contempt and disdain, even letting out a soft sneer.
Faced with these differing attitudes, Zhang Liang remained calm and detached, as if unaffected. He gently took out a scroll of bamboo slips from his robes, then sat up straight, focusing all his attention on the book before him. Not long after, the Master entered the lecture hall with steady steps. When he saw Zhang Liang, a faint, almost imperceptible smile appeared on his face, and he nodded slightly in acknowledgment. Then, the Master cleared his throat and formally began his lesson.
The Master, drawing upon classical texts and explaining the principles in a clear and accessible way, captivated the students with his exquisite language and profound arguments, who all benefited immensely from his teachings. Time flew by unnoticed, and before they knew it, the morning's lessons were drawing to a close.
Just as the bell was about to ring, the teacher suddenly turned his gaze to Zhang Liang, who was sitting in the corner, and said, "Zhang Liang, come with me." Zhang Liang, who was arranging bamboo slips, looked up at the sound of the voice. He was a little surprised at first, but then quickly stood up and followed the teacher out of the school.
The two walked along a quiet path and finally arrived at the room where the Master usually rested. Inside, Zhang Liang and the Master sat facing each other on either side of a low table. The Master gazed at Zhang Liang's face, which was even more delicate than a woman's, and asked with concern, "How are you feeling now? Has your condition improved?"
Zhang Liang quickly cupped his hands and replied, "Master, my health has indeed improved compared to a few days ago. Thank you for your concern and care." After saying this, he lowered his head slightly.
The Master nodded thoughtfully, and after a moment of silence, he spoke again: "I have heard that you have been visiting the former subordinates of Zhao today. I wonder what your intention is?"
Zhang Liang stared intently at the teacher before him, his tone carrying a hint of accusation: "Teacher, how can you not know the reason behind this?"
Confucius met Zhang Liang's sharp gaze and sighed inwardly. He knew Zhang Liang was a man of broad learning and exceptional talent, and also a descendant of an old friend. When the state of Han was destroyed, Confucius immediately brought Zhang Liang to Huaiyang, hoping that Zhang Liang could forget the past and start anew. However, Zhang Liang was exceptionally stubborn and actually dared to attempt to overthrow the powerful state of Qin with his meager strength. In Confucius's eyes, this was undoubtedly a futile attempt, a complete overestimation of his own abilities.
Confucius shook his head helplessly and earnestly advised, "Zifang, listen to my advice and give up now! Let go of your obsession, and your path ahead will be bright, and you will have a more brilliant and glorious future." However, before he finished speaking, the originally gentle and refined Zhang Liang suddenly changed his expression, his face full of anger, and his emotions instantly became out of control.
He glared at the Master and roared, “Master, don’t you know what I’ve been through? Back then, you and my father were like brothers, the closest of friends. Now that he has been killed by the Qin people, not only do you not think of avenging him, but you also do everything you can to prevent me from taking revenge myself. How can you face my father in the afterlife?”
Faced with Zhang Liang's rebuke, the Master looked bitter, but still patiently explained, "Zifang, if your father were still alive, he would surely hope that you could put aside your hatred and start a new life. With your extraordinary talent, your future achievements will be no less than those of your grandfather and father. Why must you take such a dangerous risk and put yourself in such a perilous situation?"
Zhang Liang suddenly burst into laughter, which initially sounded somewhat bold, but was quickly interrupted by a series of violent coughs: "Cough cough... cough cough!" He coughed as he bent over, as if he were coughing up his heart and lungs.
The Master had been watching Zhang Liang closely. Seeing that Zhang Liang's already pale face had turned even redder from coughing, he quickly stepped forward and gently patted Zhang Liang's back, trying to help him catch his breath. After a while, Zhang Liang finally stopped coughing and slowly straightened up.
He raised his head, looking directly at the Master, and said in a slightly hoarse voice, "Master, since the fall of the State of Han, I have been unable to sleep night after night. Whenever I close my eyes, the scenes of my father, mother, grandmother, and brothers and sisters dying tragically keep flashing through my mind. Their faces are so clear, their screams are so shrill, and I can never forget this blood feud. If it weren't for my grandfather risking his life to protect me, I would probably be a victim of the blade long ago."
As he spoke, he looked at the Master with unwavering eyes and continued, "If I do not avenge this grudge, I swear I will not be a man!" With that, a raging fire ignited in Zhang Liang's eyes, a fire of fury that seemed to burn everything to ashes.