Chapter 730: Laughter Amidst Tears

Fu Mingqi said solemnly, “If the learning of the Sages circulates throughout the land, it will also prevent the realm’s scholars from seeing us as strange and regarding us as heretics. It will greatly aid the Marquis in recruiting scholars and learned men.”

Wang Dou nodded. He would never be so brainless as Hong Xiuquan, recklessly employing heretical and evil doctrines — for instance, using the teachings of the Jesus sect to conduct affairs.

Hong had originally been a Han man raising troops against the barbarians, and at the time he had considerable foundation within the country. Yet wherever he went, he burned books and buried scholars alive, set great classics ablaze, and forbade the veneration of ancestors. He forced the realm’s scholars to draw a clear line against him, and in the end he perished. What foolishness.

Look at the Ming Taizu — how much wiser he was. He understood the importance of the intellectual, understood the importance of orthodox mainstream culture.

And the struggle over the orthodox transmission of the Way has always been ruthless. What learning is taught, by what principles the state is governed, in what direction the nation goes — it is not that men of integrity refrain from contending over these things. On the contrary, the strife among gentlemen is even more brutal. When it concerns the orthodox transmission, it truly is a matter of life and death.

When Confucianism struck down the hundred other schools, how ruthless that was. That is on the grand scale. On the small scale — should your national script be Han or English? Should the writing be simplified or traditional? All of it is filled with the flash of blades and the shadow of swords. Even whether one is surnamed Capital or surnamed Socialist — how many heads have fallen, how many corpses and seas of blood.

In the struggle over the orthodox transmission, there is no room for the affections of father and son, husband and wife. If Wang Dou acted on impulse, setting aside national sentiment, and adopted some Western doctrines, all the scholars under Heaven would regard Xuanfu Garrison as heretical. Then not only would every step outside become impossibly difficult, but within there would also be endless strife and conflict. Wang Dou would never be so foolish.

What he was doing now, though it drew much criticism from the scholars, in fact still left a buffer. Both sides still had considerable room for cooperation — just as now, more and more scholars were coming to offer their service to Xuanfu Garrison.

Moreover, Wang Dou also believed that things from outside were innately unsuited to the local soil and climate. Once they reached the Central Plain, they became utterly distorted, diverging wildly from the original intent of their promotion. Hong Xiuquan was a classic example. Therefore, things from outside could only serve as supplementary branches and leaves; they could not exist as the main trunk.

Fu Mingqi mused, “At present, my colleagues in the Bureau of Enlightenment and I are compiling volumes such as *The Way of the Warrior* and *The Various Precepts for the Soldier*. Coupled with the dense network of schools throughout our territory, unifying thought is not a difficult matter. The Marquis, on the journey back from the army, spoke of the shogunate’s future goal: to let the common people of the Three Jin, and even all the people of the Great Ming, live as good a life as in Xuanfu Garrison. In the future, our officers and men will not lack a goal to strive for. Only…”

He sighed. “After all my pondering, the myriad affairs of our China ultimately come down to these four words: land and population.”

He continued, “Throughout history, the realm’s farmland has never been able to keep up with the growth of the population. If this problem cannot be resolved, Confucianism will ultimately still turn inward. This runs counter to the pioneering spirit the Marquis speaks of. In the end, the Marquis’s painstaking efforts will all be in vain!”

He looked at Wang Dou, waiting to see what he would say.

Wang Dou clasped his hands behind his back and said flatly, “For this problem, I have only one solution: divert the calamity outward. Continuously colonize abroad, wage war, seize land, and satisfy the people’s needs! If in the end men must die, then let the nation’s people die on the road of pioneering. That is still far better than being consumed by internal strife!”

As he spoke these words, Wang Dou’s expression was icy, his tone utterly ruthless.

A gust of cold wind howled in. In the blink of an eye, goose-feather snow began to fall, drifting and swirling down. He simply stood motionless, letting the snowflakes settle on his body.

Fu Mingqi glanced at the sky — the weather beyond the frontier was ever changeable. He looked at Wang Dou for a long while, then broke into a smile. “One can imagine the words ‘exhausting the army in reckless war’ will come crashing down on the Marquis like an avalanche!”

Wang Dou smiled faintly. “Those words are not entirely wrong. We Han are fortunate. As early as the Qin and Han periods, we seized the richest lands of Shenzhou, leaving the surrounding barbarians with nothing but barren mountains and foul waters. The foreign campaigns of successive dynasties always cost more than they gained, until in the end the common people grew fearful and believed that pioneering brought no benefit. The scholars merely gave voice to the people’s hearts; it is not necessarily mere slander.”

“However…”

Wang Dou slowly exhaled. “The times are different now. Today, campaigning brings great profit — just as our Jingbian Army’s campaign beyond the frontier has yielded great gains.”

He said, “Brother Fu, do you believe that at this moment, no matter in which direction our Great Ming strikes — east, south, west, or north — it will always obtain wealth, and will grow richer the more it fights?”

He added, “Of course, at present the Great Ming cannot do so. And…”

He pondered. “Throughout the dynasties, there has actually been one error: in foreign campaigns, the power of the common people was rarely mobilized. Even when it was, the people had no profit to gain, so naturally they grew weary of it. Our Jingbian Army rejoices at the news of battle — Brother Fu can certainly see the difference in this.”

Fu Mingqi mused, “The Marquis means to use the sword to open up land, ultimately resolving our China’s chronic contradiction between population and farmland, and resolving the question of what our army fights for? The present swarms of roving bandits everywhere — are they not precisely the final eruption of this chronic ill?”

Wang Dou said, “Correct. However, some lands cannot be annexed. Their existence is meant for exploitation, for contrast, or to provide raw materials. In truth, the ultimate wealth lies in goods. Sometimes land is actually inferior to that. But that is a distant matter. For now, the more land our Han people possess, the better!”

Amidst the swirling snow, Fu Mingqi gazed intently at Wang Dou. From the distance came the faint sound of laughter from Ji Junjiao and the other women. To be honest, every time he spoke with Wang Dou, Fu Mingqi always gained something new. How did that common watchtower soldier of years past come to possess such wise insight? Fu Mingqi did not understand.

Those bright eyes of his seemed able to see through the affairs of a thousand years past and present, always astonishing people. One could only sigh that some men are born different from the rest.

To be honest, he did not know whether what Wang Dou said was right or wrong. But in the end, it was a solution, was it not?

The two men strolled slowly through the drifting snow. Fu Mingqi said coldly, “How shall the conflict between righteousness and profit be resolved?”

Wang Dou gave a cold laugh and countered, “Why must it be resolved?”

He said, “When all is said and done, it is a matter of how loud one’s voice is, and also a matter of habit!”

He continued, “The Bureau of Enlightenment is like my brain trust. You hold the pen, and now you also have the sharp weapon of the newspaper. You can paint white as black, and black as white. If they don’t listen after one telling, then tell them ten thousand times. When many people say it, and the crowd that agrees grows large, then it becomes right. Add in the actual tangible gains, and the common people will naturally follow. What need is there to worry about a few idle words?”

Fu Mingqi laughed. “This is the so-called offensive of public opinion? Because everyone says it, therefore it is right?”

Wang Dou sighed. “In the affairs of the world, how can there be absolute right or absolute wrong? The means are not the end. The final goal — that is the end.”

He gazed toward the far distance. “Unifying thought, making the goal one — this is the key task for the Bureau of Enlightenment going forward. When the people have faith, the nation has strength. At present, for the people of Xuanfu Garrison, we mostly lure them with profit. I hope that one day, when they face the choice between ideals and money, they can choose their ideals, and not the temptation of money!”

He said, “That is why I am vigorously strengthening education in Xuanfu Garrison — to cultivate national consciousness, in the hope that some nationalists will emerge. Because such people possess great power to inspire. They can unite the nation’s people and imbue them with a spirit of dedication. They can also make more and more people understand what they fight for, and ultimately make them actively seek battle, to struggle for this people!”

“Only thus can the ultimate question — what we fight for — be resolved!”

Fu Mingqi understood some of it, and some he did not. But he could feel the urgency and longing deep within Wang Dou’s heart.

In the drifting snow beyond the frontier, a fine teacher and his friend walked and talked, exploring the direction of the future. Speaking of how building up Monan would require many officials and talents, and even more in the future, Fu Mingqi frowned and said, “We do not possess the orthodox mandate, and cannot hold imperial examinations. How then shall we select officials?”

Wang Dou was also pondering this problem. His current system of officials was more akin to a recommendation system: discover talent, promote them, coupled with a certain degree of assessment. The selection mechanism inevitably had its flaws, but with few talents available, there was no other way.

However, Xuanfu Garrison could not possibly hold imperial examinations, because the mandate lay with the capital. If they did so, it would be rebellion.

Besides, Wang Dou also believed the imperial examination system had its drawbacks. With the current eight-legged essay format, many of those selected were ignorant of practical affairs.

He mused, “We can only use an examination system. Regardless of background — whether soldier, officer, commoner, merchant, or artisan — anyone who passes the examination requirements can become an official. Of course, while assessing actual achievements, we must also consider their virtue, ability, diligence, performance, and integrity. Outwardly, we will still use the pretext of recruiting clerks, so as not to cause too much alarm in the imperial court.”

Fu Mingqi laughed. “Just as the outside world mocks us — in the future, Anbei will truly be governed by clerks.”

Wang Dou also laughed. “Clerks it is. Better to go from clerk to official than to select bookworms ignorant of practical affairs as officials…”

The two men walked and talked as the wind and snow swirled, falling heavier and heavier, slowly obscuring their figures.

…

After the Start of Winter, Wang Dou led the great army back to Xuanfu Garrison City. In the time that followed, he was so busy his feet scarcely touched the ground. He convened a continuous series of military, civil, and administrative conferences, discussing the future structure of Anbei, how to manage and cultivate Monan, and so on. Returning home each night, he still had to comfort his beloved wives in successive rounds. He truly felt as though he could not split himself into enough pieces.

In the Grand General’s residence, Wang Dou met his son, Wang Yi. He could feel the pulse of that blood connection between father and son. Moreover, the little infant was not afraid of strangers. The moment he saw Wang Dou’s face, he giggled and burrowed straight into Wang Dou’s arms, making Wang Dou utterly delighted.

His mother, Madam Zhong, also doted on this grandson immensely. She said to Wang Dou, “Look at this darling grandson’s eyes, nose, and mouth — every single part resembles you, you rascal.”

Xu Yue’e’s mood also relaxed considerably. In private, she said to Wang Dou, “These days since returning to Xuanfu have been the happiest days of my life.”

But she still decided to return to Zanhuang. That night, she clung to Wang Dou in desperate, lingering passion, as if wanting to meld her body into his.

In the end, she held Wang Dou and wept. “I cannot bear to leave the Grand General, but if I remain in the General’s residence, I am superfluous, and it also makes things difficult for Sister Xie and the others. I beg the Grand General to permit me to return to Zanhuang.”

Wang Dou frowned. “Has someone been disrespectful to you?”

Xu Yue’e shook her head through tears. “No, it is my own heart’s affliction. Here, I am never at ease, and I feel more and more unworthy of the Grand General… In truth, with my lowly appearance, to have a son and a man whom I long for — I am already fully content… A woman like me should have died long ago.”

Wang Dou rebuked her sharply, “Nonsense.”

He held Xu Yue’e’s delicate body and was silent for a moment. He knew that, given Xu Yue’e’s background and with him before her, although no one dared say anything, over time, under the strange gazes of everyone, she would always be unhappy.

Thinking of Zanhuang — there she had a career of her own, and there were not many idle words. It could indeed let her feel more at ease and forget her pain sooner. And besides…

There was something Wang Dou did not say aloud. Xu Yue’e’s heart was too dark, her spirit too twisted. Keeping her in the Grand General’s residence was a threat to Xie Xiuniang. If strife arose in the rear court, that was something he did not wish to see. Wang Dou could imagine that Xie Xiuniang would be no match for Xu Yue’e.

After thinking it over, Wang Dou said gently, “Very well, go back to Zanhuang. If anything makes you unhappy, write and tell me. Your husband will stand up for you. Remember, I, Wang Dou, am your man! … If you need any support, do not hesitate to say so!”

Xu Yue'e said happily, "Many thanks, Grand General!"

She held Wang Dou tightly, tears streaming down unceasingly. Finally, she hoped Wang Dou would grant her one request — to write a poem for her as well.

She looked at Wang Dou, utterly aggrieved, and said, "That bitch Chu Wanyun, that foxy seductress — the General composed a poem for her, and even outsiders have one, yet I..."

Wang Dou slapped his own forehead, thinking this truly put him in a difficult spot. Had he known this earlier, he would never have recited any poetry at all. With a headache, he said, "Let this general think it over."

Xu Yue'e would not relent, and said in a coquettish voice, "General..."

Wang Dou said, "Let me think."

That night, Xu Yue'e clung to Wang Dou demanding him again and again. Fortunately, Wang Dou was robust and strong, and had no trouble handling this aspect. They kept at it until midnight before both sank into deep sleep. When he woke the next day, Wang Dou shook his head — he was late. A large group of people was still waiting for him to hold a meeting.

Two days later, Xu Yue'e took her escort squad, along with an additional escort squad Wang Dou had assigned, and left Xuanfu Garrison City. Before her departure, Xie Xiuniang wept until she became a figure of tears. Still so innocent, she simply held Xu Yue'e's hand: "Elder Sister, Xiuniang cannot bear to see you go."

Lady Zhong was also quite reluctant to part, murmuring, "That dear grandchild of mine — I've only seen her for a few days, and now she must leave again."

She felt somewhat heartbroken. In truth, she liked Xu Yue'e very much and wished she and her grandson could stay long within the Grand General's residence.

Although she knew Xu Yue'e had an enterprise in Zanhuang, how could that small patch of land compare to her own son? A woman's proper place was at home, serving her husband and mother-in-law.

Though fierce and unyielding by nature, she was still a traditional woman — otherwise she would not have remained a widow for decades for Wang Dou's father. It was Wang Dou who persuaded her, letting Xu Yue'e leave and take Wang Yi with her. This son of hers was Xu Yue'e's very lifeblood; without Wang Yi, how could Xu Yue'e pass her days in Zanhuang?

Only Ji Junjiao breathed a sigh of relief and said with a faint smile, "Little Sister, when you have time, do come often to visit your elder sister."

Xie Xiuniang accompanied her several li beyond the city gate, reluctant to part. Xu Yue'e's mood was also heavy with sorrow. Xie Xiuniang was still so good to her — just as she had been back in Xinzhuang and at Jingbian Fort, and still was now. She hoped this kind-hearted woman would be blessed with good fortune.

She smiled and said, "Little Sister, until we meet again."

Boarding the carriage, she opened the letter Wang Dou had left for her. He was busier than ever and could not come to see Xu Yue'e off.

Unfolding the letter, she saw several lines of bold, forceful verse: "When feeling runs deep, poetry comes of itself; when intent grows rich, rhyme must follow. Fine rain, a lonely lamp, one man drunk; shadow-troubled, heart-wounded, both eyes blurred. Ink stains the white scroll — a painting yet no painting; emptiness leaves a lingering fragrance, the pillow's edge cold."

A line in small characters was appended: "Yearning is a state of heart. So long as there is love within, one can see the first ray of morning sunlight..."

Though she could not quite understand it, Xu Yue'e still smiled with joy.

Amid that smile, lovely as a blooming flower, large teardrops rolled down one after another. (To be continued...)