Chapter 767: Confucian Scholarship and the Inspector〔Part 2〕

The headmaster saw their expressions and smiled: “Guests need not be nervous — those are senior students practicing swordsmanship and firearms.”

He explained that the academy’s curriculum generally had formal lessons in the morning, while the afternoons were for various activities: learning etiquette, music and painting, crafts and nature studies, as well as political character and all kinds of military training content. The lower grades only trained in some rough-and-ready drill formations, teaching them to march in step and understand the importance of discipline.

For the upper grades, formation drill became routine, and they also began practicing swordsmanship and some basic fist techniques. In the final year of primary school, they even practiced with firearms — the instructor would bring out bird-beak muskets and teach the students to become familiar with their construction, how to load the powder and shot, and then live fire at targets.

This course was extremely popular with the students — target shooting, who wouldn’t like it?

Li Banghua murmured thoughtfully: “So this is the gentleman’s Six Arts — rites, music, archery, charioteering, calligraphy, and mathematics — all given equal weight?”

The headmaster laughed heartily: “This gentleman is clearly a scholar — he explains it clearly and thoroughly.”

He knew that outsiders were intensely interested in the schools of Xuanfu Garrison, and people often came to tour the academy under the banner of making donations. As a Jingbian Army soldier, his eyes were very sharp; one glance told him these two were no spies, merely people of unusually vigorous curiosity.

Xuanfu Garrison’s teaching methods were no secret, so he did not hide anything and explained a bit for the guests.

Indeed, Xuanfu Garrison’s educational titles also spoke of the gentleman’s Six Arts — “nurture the sons of the state with the Way, and teach them the Six Arts” — though there were some differences within.

According to outside accounts, Xuanfu Garrison leaned more toward the three disciplines of law, philology, and mathematics, with less content from the classics track that led to the metropolitan examination — it was more about cultivating generally capable, practical talent. Wang Dou’s requirement was also that after primary school graduation, students could write, calculate, and read, and also possess solid moral character, having shaped a sound and excellent personality during their schooling.

Generally speaking, Xuanfu Garrison primary schools had three core subjects — national literature, arithmetic, and law — along with supplementary courses in etiquette, archery and charioteering, music and painting, the investigation of things and nature, and political character.

The investigation of things and nature in particular was extremely popular with the students, because the things taught in it were so novel — it encompassed knowledge of astronomy, geography, physics, chemistry, biology, and more, and looked very impressive at a glance.

This course was mainly compiled by Wang Dou. Of course, in his view, the content was still very rudimentary, only teaching students some simple common sense about the natural sciences — for example, explaining the principles of ice and fire, and how sunlight passing through an ice surface or a mirror could ignite objects.

It explained the principle of the dispersion of light, why rainbows occur — a natural phenomenon produced when sunlight shines on raindrops — and gave examples of experiments on color dispersion by Kong Yingda and Zhang Zhihe of the Tang dynasty, and Cai Bian of the Southern Song, and further introduced the recent work “A Small Record of Physical Knowledge” by Fang Yizhi.

It also covered the nine continents of the world and matters of various places. Although the examples compiled within were very simple, for many students it was as if a new heaven and earth had been opened — truly even more fascinating than the Classic of Mountains and Seas, and its great popularity was understandable.

Not to mention students, even common folk and scholars among the populace, many out of curiosity bought this book from bookstores to study it, which even sold out Fang Yizhi’s books in Jiangnan, once leaving Fang Yizhi utterly baffled — why were his books suddenly selling so hot?

And the political character course was equally popular; as the common people understood it, this was a storytelling class.

The content taught was mostly drawn from the “Records of Great Chinese Heroes” compiled by the Education Department, recounting the heroes and martyrs, loyal ministers and righteous men of successive dynasties. Though the content was plain, its power to stir emotion was very strong, often making listeners’ blood boil with excitement.

When it came to the present dynasty, Wang Dou and the Jingbian Army were of course the key subjects of propaganda — the various battles after their rise, the various characters, the psychology of each person when facing life-and-death choices — it truly made people tug their ears and rub their cheeks, unable to sit still, wishing only to keep listening.

And the deeds of Wang Dou and various officers and generals from childhood to adulthood were also seized upon and expounded at length: Han Chao, Han Zhong, Wen Fangliang, Zhong Rong, and others first meeting Wang Dou, ultimately sharing the same ideals, fighting side by side in all manner of events — these too were preached with fervor and pathos, moving people to tears.

As the curriculum was perfected, in the future it would further develop into a series of best-selling, hot-selling stories in film, drama, literature, illustration, and song — but that is a tale for another time.

The students were imperceptibly instilled and transformed; through a series of little stories, they internalized the concepts Wang Dou had written — “loyalty, honor, dedication, responsibility” — and understood the principles of how to conduct oneself as a person.

Moreover, the political character course had quite a few extracurricular activities and was not mere simplistic preaching. For example, during the lesson on “how to live in harmony with neighbors,” students were required to visit nearby village neighbors on holidays and do a few good deeds for them.

When teaching how to be filial to one’s parents, they would also, under the school’s guidance, go to workshops, fields, and plots to do small short-term jobs, and after earning some pocket money, personally buy their parents some small gifts they liked — it was quite close to real life and widely welcomed by the students.

After all, getting out of school to romp around was something everyone liked, and it imperceptibly exerted influence, shaping mature personalities.

Archery and charioteering were considered ways to strengthen the body, focusing on cultivating the students’ sense of discipline and a relatively robust physique, as well as grasping a certain amount of military knowledge. The headmaster very much regretted that his academy here was still short on teaching staff — often each person held several posts concurrently, and many courses could not be offered.

For instance, the drill instructor concurrently held the posts of swordsmanship teacher, charioteering teacher, and firearms teacher. But over in Bao’anzhou, they had specialized swordsmanship instructors, equestrian instructors, firearms instructors, music instructors, and painting instructors. Many of their primary schools even kept horses specifically for student training. Here, the equestrian course had to be canceled and replaced with a cuju kickball course.

The other supplementary courses were all fine — it was just the etiquette course that gave many students a headache.

But rites could not be abandoned. Etiquette could make a person cultivated and refined. In later ages this was discarded, and the adoption of Western ways was done in a manner neither fish nor fowl, like a monkey wearing a cap. In view of this, Wang Dou’s requirements for the etiquette course were still very strict…

Li Banghua listened in silence. Through Headmaster Zhao’s introduction, an image took shape in his mind of students of upright character, excellent in both conduct and learning, accomplished in both civil and martial arts, able to write and calculate, continuously emerging from the academy — just as Wang Dou had said, developing “morality, intelligence, physique, aesthetics, and labor” in a well-rounded way. These were the pillars of the nation.

The Great Ming’s education had indeed become deformed. Successive dynasties still spoke of the gentleman’s Six Arts, but now only the imperial examinations were emphasized. Scholars all buried their heads in books and classics, their ears deaf to outside affairs. Not to mention the Six Arts, even archery, charioteering, calligraphy, and mathematics were all regarded as petty pursuits.

Scholars of the mathematics and law tracks faced even greater difficulty in promotion and held low status. As a result, the students produced were not only frail and feeble to a man, but also ignorant of practical affairs — how could they govern the country?

Also because of this severe “subject imbalance,” to use Wang Dou’s words, most of those who had not passed the examinations and obtained office also had a low ability to earn a living, which was why licentiates and scholars also bore the label of “impoverished pedants.” Yet in Xuanfu Garrison, those who possessed a single useful skill were so deeply respected.

Not to mention national literature — those proficient in mathematics, those proficient in law, those proficient in etiquette, those proficient in music and painting, might elsewhere be destitute and down-and-out, but in Xuanfu Garrison they could easily earn a living, each living a superior, esteemed, and honorable life.

As Xuanfu Garrison’s education expanded and teaching subjects grew more refined, the demand for such talent became even broader. Each person could continuously climb forward along their own path and, just as with Confucian scholarship, reach the pinnacle — something that was incomprehensible in many parts of the Great Ming.

“This is a golden age for scholars.”

Li Banghua thought to himself. As a scholar, he of course wished for every student and scholar to live a dignified life. Yet because of the sole dominance of Confucian classics, elsewhere in the Great Ming even a single post as a private tutor would be frantically contested by a large number of down-and-out licentiates — the scope of employment was far too narrow.

This was also the harm of everyone swarming in one direction — just as in later ages when everyone rushed headlong to study computing, with the result that even very high-end computing talent depreciated and depreciated further.

In Xuanfu Garrison, this problem had been perfectly resolved. Li Banghua thought to himself, this must be what Wang Dou called dividing into multiple strata of professions. In the past, scholars who failed the examinations could only apply to be private tutors, teaching some classics, but now they had so many choices.

He also understood why Xuanfu Garrison had so many opportunities — scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants could all have their own paths to livelihood.

And this was only primary school. Li Banghua had heard that Xuanfu Garrison’s middle schools had begun formally teaching history, geography, physics, chemistry, agricultural administration, industry and commerce, politics, and other subjects — requiring even more talent.

…

The headmaster introduced things with great effort. In truth, he saw that Li Banghua and Zhu Zhifeng had such graceful bearing, clearly looking like master-level figures, and he intended to keep the two of them here — to teach national literature of course, and ideally one could also teach music and the other fine arts and painting.

At present, the academy’s material supplies were decent enough — each day’s breakfast could guarantee the students one egg and a cup of soybean milk — it was just that the school’s teachers were few.

He himself held several posts concurrently and even personally taught the students music class, but he had no musical talent whatsoever. Every time he taught music class, he could only bellow army songs at the students. These two clearly looked like talents thoroughly versed in the zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting — how could he let them go?

The headmaster’s great spirit of wholeheartedly devoting himself to education deeply moved Li Banghua and Zhu Zhifeng. Although his post was far inferior to theirs, his character and moral quality were beyond reproach — this was not something that could be offset by differences in rank.

The two exchanged bitter smiles. For a moment, both felt the impulse to stay. They had spent their lives rushing about for fame, profit, power, position, and state affairs, yet this tiny academy was so pure and clean, like a pure land of peach blossom spring, a harbor of refuge for the soul, and it touched them deeply.

In the end, unable to resist such warm hospitality, the two agreed that in their spare time they would come and teach the children some lessons. Only then did the headmaster, satisfied, split his face in a wide grin and let them go.

He enthusiastically guided them onward. The Minglun Hall had originally been a place for students to study; now it was the teachers’ office. After all, in the past a county school had only a few dozen people, but now a single township school had several hundred — how could the Minglun Hall possibly squeeze them all in? Opening dedicated classrooms had become a necessity.

At this moment, the vast drill field was full of students. Today was the archery and charioteering course. Children large and small were all gathered on the level ground — the lower grades practicing formation drill, the upper grades practicing swordsmanship, musketry, fist techniques, and so on.

“Step left…”

“Hai!”

“Thrust!”

“Hai!”

Before their eyes, sword-light glittered — an entire class of students was practicing swordsmanship, quite a spectacular sight.

These upper-grade students, each with hair bound up, wore azure close-fitting martial attire, possessing an extremely heroic and martial air.

And in front of them, a stern swordsman with his hands behind his back continuously barked commands. According to the headmaster’s introduction, this teacher had originally been a blade-wielder, nicknamed Qi the Single Stroke, quite famous in the Tianjin area, who later entered Xuanfu Garrison, passed the examination to become a swordsmanship instructor, and was hired by the school.

Many such outside blade-wielders and swordsmen, after entering Xuanfu Garrison, apart from working in security firms, also entered the education system.

“Huo!”

“Ha!”

They passed the sword formation, then another orderly fist formation.

Another class of senior students, shouting cadences, stepping in rhythm, continuously punching and withdrawing their fists — they were practicing fist techniques.

The martial atmosphere in Xuanfu Garrison was quite strong; even the students practiced the extremely fierce Splitting-Hanging Fist, a military close-combat skill, and what the students learned was the unabridged version.

"Raise muskets!"

"Fire!"

Then came the banging reports, and over there a cloud of gunpowder smoke billowed and rose as a class of students excitedly took turns firing at targets. Smelling the pungent gunpowder odor, which seemed to drift faintly to this side, Li Banghua and Zhu Zhifeng exchanged a glance, both feeling somewhat alarmed and jittery.

They did not object to practicing swordsmanship and fist techniques, but these matchlock muskets...

However, seeing the headmaster's matter-of-fact expression, the two tactfully held their tongues.

Then they saw a man who looked like an instructor pacing over before the students. His movements were a bit awkward, as if he had been injured somewhere, but his gaze was exceedingly sharp. He said something, and then three senior classes assembled, their movements swift and orderly.

Watching them, Li Banghua and Zhu Zhifeng sighed inwardly. Even the retainer battalions in many Ming armies could not be this disciplined, could they?

They saw those top-knotted students form a formation, all in uniform dark-blue combat dress, then a flash of sword light as each drew their blade and pointed it slantwise. Then they sheathed them, left hands gripping the scabbards, right hands resting on the hilts, and shouted in perfect unison: "Loyalty, Honor, Dedication!"

An imposing aura radiated majestically. Li Banghua and Zhu Zhifeng watched, their hearts shaken — these were merely elementary students of Xuanfu Garrison.

They also noticed several people in the formation whose faces were flushed red as they bellowed; these few seemed to be...

The headmaster, seeing where their gazes fell, looked over and said with a smile, "Oh, those few are Mongols, but in the academy they are no different from the Han students."

Li Banghua said, "Transforming the barbarians into Han — excellent."

He thought to himself that this was a very good point about Xuanfu Garrison: though there were social strata, education treated everyone equally.

A Sun-Moon-Waves banner was raised by the instructor; the fiery red flag danced furiously in the cold wind. Amid the fluttering banner, the three classes of senior students all pressed their hands on their swords and sang in unison: "Splendid Cathay, magnificent rivers and mountains, the Long River, the Great River..."

The headmaster wore a smile, constantly beating time with his hand, and when a certain tune came, he too hummed along: "...abundant goods and prosperous people, beautiful is our Great Cathay..."

Turning back, he smiled at the two men and said, "Gentlemen, please."

Li Banghua and Zhu Zhifeng followed the headmaster away. After a few steps, Li Banghua could not help turning his head back; the stirring song still drifted over: "...beautiful is our Great Cathay..."

Carrying a flavor that lifted the spirit.

Tide-like thoughts surged into Li Banghua's mind. He awoke and found himself sitting in a chair in the Grand General's mansion. Reflecting on the experiences of these past months, he examined his own heart and realized that, without knowing it, he had already developed a deep love for this land.

And the most beloved of all were those students. That was why he could not wait to serve in the Education Department — but would Wang Dou agree?

For the first time, Li Banghua felt a sense of uneasy apprehension.

He did not know how long he had waited when he heard footsteps ring out. Wang Dou strode out from the inner hall with a dragon's gait and a tiger's step, followed by Ye Xizhi, Fu Mingqi, Zhang Gui, Zhong Rong, Zhong Zhengxian, Tian Changguo, and other key officials of the Civil Affairs Ministry.

Seeing Li Banghua, a smile appeared on Wang Dou's face. He gave a hearty laugh and was about to speak, but then saw Li Banghua step forward hurriedly, bow deeply, and say, "This humble official greets the Grand Protector!"

Beside him, Zhu Zhifeng likewise bowed deeply.

Wang Dou said, "...Sir Banghua, please sit... Sir Zhu, sit as well. Serve tea."

He comfortably seated himself in his large tiger-skin chair. Zhang Gui, Tian Changguo, and the others glanced at Li Banghua and his companion, then likewise took their seats to the side.

They too sat very comfortably. Only Fu Mingqi, Ye Xizhi, Li Banghua, and Zhu Zhifeng sat upright and proper. Especially Li Banghua and Zhu Zhifeng — their sitting posture went without saying; in terms of personal cultivation, Wang Dou and his men were indeed no match for these Confucian scholars.

Without waiting for pleasantries, Li Banghua rose directly, bowed, and said calmly, "This humble official has been at the Protectorate for several months now. The Grand Protector, out of consideration for this humble official, has been unwilling to burden me with desk work, for which I am deeply grateful. Yet seeing the Grand Protectorate toil daily while this humble official remains idle and at ease truly pains my heart. I earnestly request that the Grand Protectorate assign me work, so that this humble official and others may have the opportunity to share the Grand Protector's burdens and relieve his labors."

Zhu Zhifeng inclined his body: "This humble official feels the same. Seeing the Marquis toil daily truly grieves this humble official's heart, and I hope to share his worries and ease his difficulties."

A guard brought hot tea. Wang Dou had just raised it to his lips and taken a sip when he nearly spat it out at these words. He looked — yes, it was indeed Li Banghua and Zhu Zhifeng speaking. From their tone, Wang Dou almost thought it was Zhang Gui and Tian Changguo.

And a chorus of coughing broke out; clearly, every member of the Civil Affairs Ministry had been choked up by Li Banghua and his companion.

But Li Banghua and Zhu Zhifeng's expressions remained unchanged; they merely watched Wang Dou calmly, waiting to see how he would respond.

Wang Dou tapped his fingers lightly on the armrest and said slowly, "...What sort of work does Sir Banghua wish to do?"

Li Banghua adjusted his robes and cap and said with a solemn expression, "What this humble official admires most are the Grand Protector's various educational endeavors. This humble official, though untalented, has read the books of the sages and hopes to devote his efforts to education in service of the Grand Protectorate."

Wang Dou remained silent.

In the great hall, another round of heated debate erupted. Seeing that Wang Dou did not declare his stance, Li Banghua was not anxious. Having once been a Grand Secretary of the Cabinet, what Li Banghua least lacked was patience. He simply spoke with sincere earnestness about what he had seen and heard during his time in Baoanzhou.

And not only Baoanzhou — in fact, in many places throughout Xuanfu Garrison, based on Li Banghua's discreet private visits during this period, he believed that there existed twisted hearts, extravagant and wasteful merchants, and common people chasing after foul profits — these were the stains on Xuanfu Garrison's development and should be corrected as soon as possible.

He also keenly sensed that the workshops and mills might bring pollution in the future, that green hills and clear waters would cease to exist, and that factory owners, for selfish gain, would exploit workers by every means possible. During his secret visits to some mining workshops, he had even found conditions tantamount to slavery, with lives of utter misery — this ran counter to the benevolent governance of the Protectorate.

There were still many dark corners, and he cited examples one by one. At this, Zhang Gui and Tian Changguo would have none of it; the two sprang up in fury.

Tian Changguo stepped forward first. What Li Banghua feared least was a fight. He cast a faint glance at Tian Changguo: "And who might you be?"

Tian Changguo, brimming with bravado, declared, "I am the Vice Minister of the Civil Affairs Ministry, the President of the Anbei Bank, and I also oversee internal commerce, trade, industry, and mining affairs!"

Li Banghua said coldly, "What instruction does Sir Tian have?"

Tian Changguo laughed sneeringly and said, "Instruction, I dare not. Sir Banghua claims that the people of our Xuanfu Garrison turn bad once they have money, saying things like 'the common people openly chase profit, rival each other in extravagance, indulge in debauchery and gambling, vent their anger through vexatious lawsuits, and amuse themselves with singing courtesans — this is the collapse and chaos of the human heart.' May I ask Sir Banghua, since you so vehemently denounce this garrison, why do you not denounce the rest of the Great Ming?"

Old White Ox: This chapter's matters are not finished; continued in the next chapter.

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