Great Zhou Wensheng

Chapter 108 One Man Overwhelms All the Talents of Jiangzhou! [Cave Abode] Painting Path!
"Let's sail and recite new poems!"

With a smile, Zhou Yuanjun stroked his beard with his wide sleeves and said to Jiang Xingzhou, "I can't wait to hear your new composition." The morning light shone through the treetops in the courtyard, gilding his beard: "I can't wait to hear your new composition either."

Dozens of instructors and tutors lined up on both sides and took their seats in turn.

Among them were many scholars who had passed the imperial examinations, as well as veteran scholars who had devoted themselves to learning for decades. At this moment, they all held their breath and stared intently at the young man in the hall—Jiang Xingzhou.

It should be understood that for ordinary scholars, being able to produce even one poem that is "written upon leaving the county" in their entire lives is enough to make them proud.

But this young scholar before us—his poetry ranges from the lowest level of the county to the highest level of the prefecture!

As for the content of the new poem from the Da family last night, it has yet to spread. Apart from a handful of people in the Xue family, no one knows its contents.

"Yes, Your Excellency! I will obey your command."

Jiang Xingzhou rose calmly, flicked his sleeves, and bowed to Professor Zhou and all the teachers and classmates present. There was no arrogance or deliberate humility in his expression, only a clear and bright expression like the moon reflecting on snow.

"A Spray of Plum Blossoms - The Moon Fills the West Tower!"

As the clear voice faded, everything seemed to fall silent: "[The fragrance of lotus fades, the jade mat is cool in autumn; I lightly loosen my silk robe and board the orchid boat alone!]"

The first line, once uttered, is like pearls and jade falling onto a plate.

The scholars present were stunned into silence upon hearing the words, some even tilting their teacups without noticing, letting the tea soak into their blue robes.

"[Who sends a letter from the clouds? When the wild geese return, the moon is full over the western tower!]"

The hands of all the scholars holding brushes trembled slightly, and the wolf-hair brushes smeared ink stains on the rice paper.

Han Yugui's pen hovered in mid-air as he murmured softly, completely absorbed in the moment.

Shen Zhiyun's ink brush, with vermilion dots staining her cuffs without her realizing it—I thought I had long witnessed the talent of Guo Jiangxingzhou, but I never expected to know today what it means to have "reached a state of perfection".

The truly exquisite words and phrases in this world need no further explanation.

"[Flowers fall and water flows, one longing, two places of sorrow.]"

This feeling is impossible to dispel; it just moves from my brow to my heart.

Just one word is enough to make one feel as if the moon is reflected in a cold pool, its clear light penetrating straight to the heart.

It was like the sudden clang of halberds, which shook people to their very core.

At this moment, the scholars in the hall, their blue robes fluttering, seemed to be trembling uncontrollably, unsure whether it was from the breeze passing through the courtyard or from their own inability to stop themselves from shaking.

"This word is worth a fortune!"

Zhou Yuanjun lightly tapped the table with his fingertips, and the ripples in the celadon teacup reflected his trembling pupils.

The only sound in the room was the crisp sound of the wolf-hair brush falling to the ground, but no one bent down to pick it up—everyone was frozen in the lingering echoes of the poem's melody.

"Every word is like cinnabar turning into gold!"

A white-haired instructor's voice trembled, "'The fragrance of fading lotus blossoms' came crashing down upon us, the autumn screen fully unfurled, and the rosy cheeks subtly changed. Such skill in creating this atmosphere..."

He suddenly choked up and could no longer offer any comments.

"Gentlemen, look at the noble air of 'lightly loosening her silk robe' and the elegance of 'when the wild geese return in formation'. These descriptions are perfectly suited to the ladies of noble families who have been in high office for generations."

The old scholar choked up a little: "After fifty years of appreciating poetry, I finally understand the true meaning of 'sorrow of parting' today. 'One kind of longing, two places of sorrow'—this rhythm and rhyme is not something that can be filled in, but rather something that grows from the very bones and blood! Reading it is like pearls falling on a jade plate, with lingering sounds that resonate around the beams. It can be called a masterpiece among poems!"

"[The sorrow just left my brow, but rose again in my heart]"—These eight characters alone capture the ultimate image of 'parting sorrow,' making them the pinnacle of graceful and restrained poetry!
This is truly the greatest monologue of all time!

After pondering for a long time, Zhou Yuanjun let out a long sigh.

Fifty years of hard study and over a hundred exam essays could not compare to the power of these few short sentences.

Despite being a Jinshi (a successful candidate in the highest imperial examinations), his discerning eye was exceptional.

At this moment, he clearly felt that the soul-stirring artistic conception in "A Spray of Plum Blossoms: The Moon Over the West Tower" had reached its pinnacle.

"This is probably not just limited to the Dafu region, is it?"

An instructor cautiously asked Zhou Yuanjun.

Zhou Yuanjun nodded slowly, "That's right, it's definitely far more than [Da Mansion]!"

Once this phrase reaches Jinling City, the capital of Jiangnan Circuit, it will surely break through the upper limit and leap to [Mingzhou].

The entire literary world of Jiangnan will likely be shaken.

Zhou Yuanjun's sharp gaze swept over the students below the steps like cold stars, and he slowly said, "Today, we will use 'A Spray of Plum Blossoms' as the tune, and I invite all of you to display your talents and compose a poem!"

The scholars were all taken aback upon hearing this, exchanging bewildered glances, beads of sweat already forming on their foreheads. A moment later, all was silent, save for the rustling of bamboo leaves in the courtyard.

"Brother Jiang's poem 'A Spray of Plum Blossoms - The Moon Fills the West Tower' was so exquisite, every word a gem, every line a masterpiece. How can we possibly begin to write it?"

A scholar in a blue robe sighed softly, “The line ‘Who sends a letter from the clouds?’ has already surpassed the wonders of nature. How can we possibly add to it?”

But one could see that some people hesitated while holding their pens, unaware that ink was dripping onto the Xuan paper;

Or he might cover his face with his sleeve, his knuckles tapping the table with each heart-wrenching sound;

Even worse, some people would rummage through their hair, leaving it disheveled, clearly in a state of utter confusion.

Suddenly, a sharp "snap" was heard, and a scholar in blue robes threw down his pen on the table, saying in distress, "Brother Jiang's masterpiece is before us. Even if we put our hearts and souls into it, we are nothing more than fireflies compared to the bright moon, only to be ridiculed by others."

Though the sound was soft, it struck everyone's hearts like a heavy hammer, and sighs rose and fell throughout the hall.

noon.

As the sun set and shadows fell, the bells of the academy rang out, scattering the weariness from the hall.

As if waking from a dream, the hundreds of scholars put down their pens and got up. Some rubbed their sore eyes, while others stretched their stiff backs, and they walked towards the canteen in twos and threes.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor, blue robes fluttered, and whispers were interspersed among them.

Some people were still preoccupied with their lessons, reciting the unfinished poems while swaying their heads.

Some people were already eagerly discussing today's meal, their words filled with hungry anticipation.

The lunch at Jiangzhou Prefectural Academy is always lavish, and today, with the new scholars enrolling, it is especially exquisite.

Steam rose from the kitchen, and the aroma of food wafted down to the corridor, making the scholars' stomachs rumble.

The squirrel-shaped mandarin fish is golden and crispy, drizzled with amber-colored sweet and sour sauce; the Dongpo pork is bright red and oily, with chunks of lean and fatty meat trembling slightly in the celadon bowl; the Longjing shrimp is emerald green and translucent, the aroma of tea mixed with the freshness of shrimp, just smelling it makes your mouth water.

There is also a jade-green soup that is as smooth as jade, and a milky white and rich crucian carp soup, garnished with several seasonal side dishes.

The scholars sat around the square table, their chopsticks clattering as they ate. Even the usually reserved scholar Han Yugui couldn't help but eat an extra half bowl of rice.

The sounds of chewing and laughter mingled together in the hall, creating a more vibrant atmosphere than the morning poetry lessons.

"Brother Jiang, this is an elective course this afternoon. Which one are you taking?"

Han Yugui put down his chopsticks, his gaze sweeping over the table full of delicacies and landing on Jiang Xingzhou, who was savoring Longjing shrimp across from him.

In the afternoon, the newly appointed scholars were required to choose one of the "Six Arts of a Gentleman" or the "Eight Elegances of a Scholar" for a short course of study.

Etiquette, music, archery, charioteering, calligraphy, mathematics, or zither, chess, calligraphy, painting, poetry, wine, flowers, and tea—each has its strengths and its difficulties.

As soon as he finished speaking, the other scholars at the table couldn't contain themselves and started discussing it amongst themselves.

"Naturally, it's about practicing archery!"
The Zhou Dynasty held a grand archery ceremony, during which feudal lords selected their officials through archery.

A true man should draw a powerful bow and slay demons and barbarians! Perhaps one day we will travel to the northern battlefields; this is a life-saving combat skill!

Zhou Wenyuan slammed his hand on the table, causing the bowls and plates to clang loudly.

"vulgar!"

Du Qingyin, standing to the side, scoffed, "A gentleman cultivates his character through the zither; he should choose the ancient zither."

"While the zither and lute are elegant, their uses are ultimately limited." Lin Haizhou, sitting at the same table, shook his head. "It would be better to learn the art of horsemanship!"

"Controlling swords, controlling boats, controlling all things!"

"I think I'll stick with ink wash painting!"

Jiang Xingzhou thought for a moment and then smiled.

Upon hearing this, everyone in the room held their breath.

Jiang Xingzhou dipped his chopsticks in tea and traced the outline of distant mountains on the dining table, then smiled and said, "There is painting in poetry, and poetry hidden in painting."

Poetry is incorporated into paintings, and poems and essays are incorporated into paintings.

The tea stains gradually seeped in, much like the ink on rice paper.

Upon hearing this, many scholars exchanged glances and immediately let out a murmur of relief.

"During festivals and holidays, the government and academies would hold a small-scale examination on the Six Arts and Eight Refined Arts! Those who ranked at the bottom would inevitably be reprimanded in court by the instructor!"
"By avoiding Brother Jiang, this true god, I might be able to compete for first place in the [Music] class."

Du Qingyin said happily.

Although not ranked first in the entire college, getting an A grade in a single course is still an honor.

The newly appointed scholars looked at each other in bewilderment. Some quietly stuffed the "Mustard Seed Garden Manual of Painting" that they were preparing to study back into their book boxes, intending to give up on practicing ink painting and choose other subjects instead, in order to avoid Jiang Xingzhou.

Only the old scholars who had long ago chosen to study traditional Chinese ink painting turned ashen-faced upon hearing this.

The scholar surnamed Zhou, who specialized in meticulous brushwork, trembled with sadness as he sighed, "Alas, it seems my ranking at the top of the [Painting Class] is about to drop one place!"

"laugh--!"

Suddenly, a cold laugh was heard.

But then Xu Ziqian, the pale-faced scholar, gently waved his folding fan, causing the landscape painting on the silk to tremble: "Brother Zhou, surely you don't fear Brother Jiang as much as you fear a tiger?"

He glanced sideways at Jiang Xingzhou and scoffed, "Brother Jiang, although your poetry and prose are unparalleled, I am ashamed to admit my inferiority. But ink painting is not the way of literature!"
To wield a pen is like lifting a tripod; to splash ink is like deploying troops in battle. How can one master this skill simply by reading a few books?

"Who is your Excellency?"

“Xu Ziqian, Zhou Lingyun and I both took painting as an elective and have made some progress! Our paintings can occasionally be heard in the countryside and towns.”

"Oh, I'll definitely ask you two for your guidance when I have time!"

After lunch.

As the sun sets in the west, the cicadas' song gradually fades.

Jiang Xingzhou and his party walked along the bluestone path. In the southwest corner of the mansion, between the eaves and brackets, hung an ebony plaque with the four characters "Cheng Guan Painting Academy" painted with mottled paint, clearly eroded by years of wind and frost.

As soon as you enter the courtyard, the scent of pine soot and ink wafts towards you.

Several unfinished practice works hang under the eaves—one is a copy of "Travelers Among Mountains and Streams," the brushwork still showing signs of immaturity; the other is a freehand depiction of withered lotus and willows, the ink colors extremely rich and unrestrained.

The painting academy has blue brick floors and open windows on all four sides, allowing sunlight to slant down and illuminate dozens of pear wood painting tables, revealing every detail.

Zhao Mengjie, an instructor at the painting academy, was dressed in an indigo robe. He was a scholar who had passed the imperial examinations and was sketching a painting titled "Snowy Stream and Cold Pine Trees" with his back to the students.

Suddenly, he heard a rustling sound below the hall. His brush paused, and a speck of ink appeared on the cedar branch. "Sailing on the river?"

Someone called out in a trembling voice, and the room fell into a deathly silence.

With the windows wide open, dozens of eyes shot out like startled birds—it was the old scholars who had previously chosen to study painting.

The inkstone on the desk still held fresh ink, yet their faces were even paler than the Xuan paper itself.

Some of these old scholars had their wrists suspended in mid-air, their ink dripping onto the Xuan paper.
Some hurriedly turned the paintings over and over on the table;
A thin scholar accidentally knocked over a vermilion dish, spilling the scarlet pigment onto the plain silk, resembling a bloodstain.

"Student Xingzhou pays his respects to Instructor Zhao!"

Jiang Xingzhou respectfully bowed with his hands clasped, his sleeves swaying gently with the movement.

"The boat is here!"

Instructor Zhao's eyes lit up, and he quickly stepped forward to help Jiang Xingzhou up by the arm, his face beaming with joy.

Jiang Xingzhou is now recognized by the Jiangzhou Academy as the strongest scholar in its history! This young scholar already has "three poems submitted to the county and four to the prefecture"!
Jiang Xingzhou actually chose the art class first, how could the art instructor not be overjoyed?
"Since ancient times, poetry and painting have been inseparable!"
Even an ordinary ink painting can be greatly elevated in quality and grade if paired with a good poem!
Today is a good day for you to appreciate your classmates' paintings, so we can learn from each other and improve together.

Zhao Mengjie led Jiang Xingzhou to the first painting table on the east side, where a half-scroll of "Layered Peaks and Misty Rivers" was displayed, with the inscription for the distant mountains still missing.

"This is Junior Brother Zhou's masterpiece."

The instructor's fingertips brushed across the silk, stirring up a wisp of undried pine smoke. "If this painting could be accompanied by a fine line of poetry, it would probably be promoted to a [county-level] masterpiece!"

Subsequently,

Instructor Zhao led Jiang Xingzhou forward, stopping to explain the numerous paintings on display.

He pointed to a vibrant ink painting of birds in flight and smiled:
"This is a painting by [Flying Eagle], with talent as its bone and spirit as its soul."

If unleashed, it can instantly transform into a flying eagle demon soldier, capable of delivering messages across vast distances and also fighting against the demon race!

He then moved to another painting of a figure exuding a fierce fighting spirit, stroked his beard, and said:
"And this [Cavalry] painting, once activated, can summon a horse archer from the painting. His arrows never miss, and he can help cultivators fight on the battlefield!"

These pre-drawn paintings can be activated in an instant!

Instructor Zhao stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze profound: "These paintings are all created with talent, and their greatest use is to help cultivators defend against enemies and protect their path."

He paused, then added meaningfully:
"However, the wonders of painting go far beyond this."

Mountains and rivers, birds and beasts, people, boats and ships, and stories across time and space.
If one's cultivation is profound, one can even use paintings to open caves, blessed lands, and gather spiritual energy, thus making cultivation twice as effective with half the effort.

Instructor Zhao stroked his beard and smiled, his gaze deep and unfathomable: "The art of painting is vast, with countless categories. Xingzhou, where do you wish to begin?"

Jiang Xingzhou looked solemn and cupped his hands, saying, "This disciple wishes to study the [Cave Abode] Painting Dao."

His eyes were burning with determination, and he had already made up his mind—he had chosen to study ink painting precisely for the ability to [open up a cave dwelling].

He has a masterpiece by Tao Yuanming in his heart, as well as super masterpieces by Fan Zhongyan, Wang Bo, and Cao Zhi, which he will write sooner or later.

However, he didn't want to just write a poem or an article!
Poetry and prose can unleash literary skills—but once unleashed, these skills disappear and do not last long.

He wanted to incorporate these poems and essays into his paintings, thereby creating a grotto—a blessed land where one could cultivate oneself.

He had seen records in many books of "poetry and painting" used to open up abodes for spiritual practice.

This painting is very durable, and you can enter the paradise within it at any time.

As soon as these words were spoken, the whole room fell silent.

"Open up a cave dwelling?"

The scholars looked at each other, their eyes filled with undisguised astonishment.

【Dongfu】Painting – Using painting to convey the Dao and open up a grotto-heaven, this is an extremely profound realm in the art of painting.

Ordinary scholars could not bear the weight of their writing; only those who had passed the provincial examination and obtained the rank of Juren were qualified to wield their brushes to create masterpieces.

"Oh?"

Instructor Zhao raised his white eyebrows slightly, a glint of shrewdness flashing in his eyes: "This path is no simple matter!"

If it were any other student wanting to learn this art, he would certainly give them a stern rebuke—they haven't even learned the most basic elements of painting, such as landscapes, birds and animals, and figures, yet they dare to learn this more advanced art of painting, "opening up new horizons"!
But who is Jiang Xingzhou?
A prodigy unlike any other in the history of Jiangzhou Prefecture.

If Jiang Xingzhou wants to learn, then he will definitely succeed!
If he refuses and angers Jiang Xingzhou, he will likely regret it later.

Zhao Mengjie stood with his hands behind his back, pondered for three breaths, then suddenly turned around and said, "You all come with me!"

Dozens of scholars followed closely behind.
Then, Zhao Jiaoyu opened a tightly locked secret room in the painting academy and stopped in front of a painting scroll about ten feet long hanging on the wall.

The clouds in the painting flicker, and pavilions and towers can be vaguely seen hidden among them.

"Behold—!"

Instructor Zhao pointed his sword and drew a line, and the scroll suddenly burst into a clear light, revealing a pavilion with flying eaves and bracket sets standing by the river:

"This is the true painting of the [Cave Abode], a literary treasure painted by this instructor himself, [Leaving the County]—'Ode to Xunyang Pavilion'!"

The painting also includes a hundred-character poem, "Ode to Xunyang Pavilion": [A strategic point in Jiujiang, where the Yangtze River surges. Mount Lu soars into the clouds, overlooking the rivers and lakes; the pavilion stands in the southeast, guarding the nine tributaries. Its eaves pierce the stars and moon, embracing the vastness of the three rivers; its windows frame the mountains and waters, reflecting the verdant peaks of the Five Old Men. In spring, one sees fish leaping in Poyang Lake; in autumn, one hears the moon shining brightly at the Stone Bell. Tao Yuanming's chrysanthemum fragrance permeates the painted beams; Bai Juyi's tears and ink soak the carved railings. Once, an immortal's iron flute pierced through the misty rain; now, one sees carriages and horses traversing the clouds on the long bridge. This pavilion carries a thousand years of cultural heritage; its elegant style will forever be remembered!]
This painting of leaving the cave in the county is extremely precious, and he usually doesn't show it to others.

If Jiang Xingzhou hadn't wanted to learn the art of painting in this cave, he wouldn't have brought everyone to this secret chamber at all.

As soon as he finished speaking, a collective gasp filled the secret room.

Zhou Lingyun, Xu Ziqian, and the other scholars stared greedily at the painting, trying to memorize every detail.

—A cave painting of this quality is something that one can only dream of seeing from afar on ordinary days.

They had studied at the painting academy for many years, and this was the first time they had seen Instructor Zhao display this "leaving the county" level cave painting in front of the students.

They are still learning landscape, bird and animal, and figure painting, let alone learning this "cave dwelling" painting style!

Jiang Xingzhou took a look around.

This painting is quite good, above the county standard! Unfortunately, the inscription on it, "Ode to Xunyang Pavilion," is only at the level of Kouzhen, which drags down the quality of the painting.

Instructor Zhao's poetry and prose still need improvement!

Jiang Xingzhou's eyes flashed with a sharp light, and he suddenly cupped his hands and said, "Instructor, merely viewing the painting is not enough to see it clearly! May we enter the painting to observe it and experience the wonders of the cave dwelling?"

"it is good!"

Instructor Zhao laughed loudly, his sleeves fluttering even without wind: "This painting is the place where I cultivate myself, so today I will make an exception and let you broaden your horizons!"

They were willing to spend money to keep Jiang Xingzhou here to learn painting.

He spread his five fingers, and a dazzling blue light suddenly burst forth from his palm, infusing the "Xunyang Pavilion Ode".

The scroll painting of "Ode to Xunyang Pavilion" trembled violently, and the pavilions in the painting rippled like water, with a white jade archway slowly emerging from the ink.

"Follow closely!"

Instructor Zhao stepped into the portal first, his robes fluttering as he seemed to merge into the painting like a drop of ink.

The scholars looked at each other in bewilderment.
Jiang Xingzhou was the first to react. His eyes flashed with a sharp light, and without hesitation, he followed closely behind, striding into the portal.

"Quickly, follow the instructor into the cave!"

"Brother Xu, don't block my way!"

The scholars immediately stirred – Zhou Lingyun hurried after them, and Xu Ziqian was so anxious that his scholar's hat tilted slightly.

The crowd pushed and shoved, afraid that if they were even half a step too slow, the cave in the painting would shut them out.

Step into the world of the painting.
Jiang Xingzhou felt the light before his eyes dissipate, and he found himself standing on the sandalwood floor of a pavilion, with a wooden door behind him for entering and exiting.

On the wall of the pavilion, the poem "Ode to Xunyang Pavilion" is inscribed!
A gentle breeze swept through the hall, carrying the unique, moist scent of the river.

He took a deep breath, feeling almost as if he were actually there.

Pushing open the carved window lattice, one is greeted by a breathtaking view of the world outside—

【Ding--】

A clear sound suddenly resounded in his mind, and the bronze bamboo slips shimmered with a bluish light.

You have entered the "Xunyang Pavilion" grotto!

The "Xunyang Pavilion" cave dwelling is blessed:
The rate of cultivation speed increased by 15%.
Talent recovery efficiency increased by 25%.
Enlightenment Aura +5
Purity of Mind +10 (Reduces the negative effects of demonic distractions by 10 points)
Composing a poem +10 (Composing a poem or essay can increase the effect by 10 points; the essay is even better)

】

Jiang Xingzhou glanced at the bronze bamboo slips and saw the constantly updating data, and couldn't help but nod in approval.

It seems that the [Xunyang Pavilion - Cultivation Cave] is quite effective!

"Look over there!"

The scholars gathered by the window, shouting with delight.

The mighty river surged like a dragon, and a fisherman was navigating the waves in a small boat.

Suddenly, silver scales leaped out of the water, drawing dazzling arcs in the sunlight.

In the distance, layers of mountains rise one after another, with golden chrysanthemums scattered like stars across the hillsides, and golden waves ripple through the rice paddies at the foot of the mountains, creating a picturesque scene against the backdrop of drifting clouds in the sky.

"This is a hidden paradise within a painting; remember this well—"

With a flick of his sleeve, Zhao Jiaoyu caused a blue light to emanate from the four corners of the pavilion. He laughed and said, "This place of cultivation is limited to this pavilion. Although the sea and sky outside the window are vast, they are nothing but an illusion."

He lightly tapped the window frame with his fingertips, and the wood grain rippled like water: "If anyone were to step out of this pavilion even half a step, they would instantly fall out of this painting!"

His strength was only enough to carve out a pavilion-like cave dwelling, several tens of feet in size, within this painting, "Leaving the County," for his own cultivation.

Everything else is just background!
"If you leave the attic, will you fall out of the painting?"

Upon hearing this, all the scholars gasped, a chill running down their spines.

However, nourished by this blessed land, his mind became increasingly clear. His talent flowed naturally through his meridians like a gentle stream, and even his breathing carried a touch of Taoist rhythm.

No wonder... such a grotto in a painting is a sacred place of cultivation that scholars of the Great Zhou Dynasty dream of!
Zhao Mengjie sat cross-legged on the jade cushion, a wisp of spiritual light rippling across the painted scene. He smiled at Jiang Xingzhou and asked, "Xingzhou, does this grotto-heaven in the painting suit your taste? Are you willing to follow this path?"

"It is truly profound! This student is willing to follow your teachings and diligently study it!"

Jiang Xingzhou bowed deeply with solemnity, his robes fluttering and carrying a faint scent of ink.

The scholars looked on with envy.

Instructor Zhao only asked Jiang Xingzhou, but not them.

Such artistry is beyond the reach of those with shallow foundations—they still need to start by depicting birds, beasts, fish, people, and landscapes, laying a solid foundation stroke by stroke, and questioning the true meaning of painting.

"By the way, Your Excellency!"

Jiang Xingzhou glanced at the "Ode to Xunyang Pavilion" on the wall of the pavilion, which seemed to be on the verge of being displayed, and hesitated to speak.

(End of this chapter)