Hey Prime members, you can listen to Tides of History, add free on Amazon Music.

Download the app today. The tall man rose to his feet with a grace that belied his creaking knees and back.

He towered over the motley group gathered around him, all of the men of various ages and appearances.

Some had the hard look of soldiers, scars marring their faces under beards that couldn't

fully hide the healed gashes and old broken bones.

One wore the plain garb of a farmer, his intelligent eyes and penetrating observations at odds

with his seeming simplicity.

His rustic appearance contrasted with the well-dressed aristocrats,

scions, a powerful ministerial families who stood next to him. Others were young gentlemen,

barely out of adolescence, soaking up every word their elders offered.

As the master stood and began to walk, his students, of all ages and ranks, followed him.

He was old now, but still striking in appearance, a head taller than most and not as stooped as his age would suggest.

Seventy years had passed since his birth, and two since his return from his travels to the courts of the neighboring states.

His lack of success might have crushed lesser teachers, the disinterest in his firm ethical teachings

and flexible political views, a disappointing blow from which most men would never recover.

That wasn't the case for Kong Chieu,

Master Kong, whom future generations would know as Kong

the revered Master Kong. Confucius.

He had taught in his youth he had taught during Master Kong, Confucius.

He had taught in his youth, he had taught during his more recent fruitless journeys, and he continued

to teach now.

As long as some were interested in listening to what he had to say, his work would continue.

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