Chapter 148: A Man of Bitter Fate: Yi Xingzhi

The scholar surnamed Yi, however, acted as if he saw nothing of the upheaval in the hall, merely sneering: "Gentlemen, my original name was Yi Xingzhi, not some Yi Zhixing. As for returning from studies in the Far West, that part is true."

But his next words were full of fury: "Only, I am a perfectly proper subject of the Celestial Dynasty — why would I give up being a young xiucai? Did I have nothing better to do than stuff myself silly?"

That scholar surnamed Wang was also a man of some courage; hearing this, he said in a grave tone: "Brother Yi, be more careful with your words.

After all, though the Donglin Academy has been abolished, up there in the court, among all those eminent lords, how many come from Donglin backgrounds? If today's words were to spread, do you not fear bringing trouble upon yourself?"

Yi Xingzhi went on: "Trouble? The present Son of Heaven is sagely and enlightened, surpassing even the late emperor. The Donglin Faction has long since been beaten into a pack of stray dogs — what have I left to fear?"

Without waiting for anyone else to interject, Yi Xingzhi continued: "My family originally lived for generations in Qin. My grandfather was once of the Northern Faction.

It was only during the Wanli years that we moved to Dongjiang, making a living from a cloth workshop. The family's livelihood was passable, and we could be considered a household where poetry and letters passed down through the generations.

My father, finding the three-shuttle cloth difficult to weave, devoted himself to painstaking research, hoping to increase the daily output of three-shuttle cloth."

At this, a look of reminiscence surfaced on Yi Xingzhi's face: "I was still young then, watching my father tinker with those bits of wood and iron tools every day, and I thought it was the most wondrous thing in the world.

From the time I was seven until I passed eleven, my father finally managed to produce some results. Originally, that three-shuttle cloth, woven by a skilled weaver woman, yielded no more than an inch or so a day."

"After my father's machine was completed, a skilled weaver woman could produce nearly a foot a day. According to the prices at the time, one bolt of three-shuttle cloth was worth three taels and three mace of silver."

"Had there been no mishap, even just relying on this three-shuttle cloth, my family could have become a house of enormous wealth."

When he reached this point, the reminiscence on Yi Xingzhi's face vanished entirely, replaced by nothing but fury: "Taicang — no more than a hundred li from my home. Heh heh, the Two Zhangs of Taicang."

Hearing this, the many scholars in the hall secretly breathed a sigh of relief. The Two Zhangs of Taicang had already been beaten down like dogs; no matter how one slandered them now, no one would step forward to whitewash or defend them.

Even if today's matter got out, no one here would bear any consequences.

Yi Xingzhi paid no heed to the reactions of the crowd in the hall, simply continuing: "That villain Zhang Pu, learning that my family possessed such a thing, sent men to our door to demand it. My father's years of painstaking effort — how could he easily hand it over to him?"

"That scoundrel, unable to obtain it, secretly had Zhang Cai, that Wu Weiye, and men of the Restoration Society spread rumors in the shadows, saying only that the device my father had built would rob the many weaver women of Songjiang of their livelihood.

Among them, quite a few Donglin gentlemen joined in as well. Some even assured my father that if he would only hand over the loom, the gentlemen of the Donglin Faction would speak up for him and drive off the Restoration Society men.

Ha, in my view, what these upright gentlemen were after was nothing more than the loom itself."

Yi Xingzhi, ignoring the souring expressions on the scholars' faces at the mention of 'upright gentlemen,' went on: "The ignorant men and women of the countryside — what insight could they possibly have?

They only believed that what my father had built would cost them their jobs and livelihood, never once considering that once this thing appeared, the three-shuttle cloth they produced would increase, and even if the final price fell somewhat, their earnings would still be greater than before."

"Since the men of the Restoration Society and the Donglin could not obtain it, they resolved to destroy it. The ignorant folk, fearing for their livelihood and stirred up by the Restoration Society and the Donglin, stormed toward my home one night."

In the nighttime Clear Wind Pavilion, though lamps blazed bright and it did not seem dark, the flickering lamplight cast upon Yi Xingzhi's twisted face revealed a ferocity that seemed ready to devour someone alive: "Heh heh, that night was no pitch-black, windy night for murder.

Yet my father and mother were dragged from their beds by those bastards, beaten to death with stones and clubs, right there in the courtyard of our home."

The scholar surnamed Wang, hearing this, interrupted Yi Xingzhi: "If it is as you say, Brother Yi, I fear you would hardly have escaped death that day either. How then—?"

Yi Xingzhi sneered: "Had I not been sleeping with my second uncle in the small side courtyard at the time, I fear I too would have been hard-pressed to escape death.

My second uncle heard the uproar in the main courtyard, knew things were going badly, and fled with me that very night into hiding — only thus did I survive.

It was not until the next day, when my second uncle returned to the house to look, that he found the great compound had long since been burned to a patch of white ash."

"My second uncle was a cautious man by nature. He made no sound, simply used burning charcoal to ruin his own face, and all the way, with me, a boy barely twelve, begged to stay alive. Even though he carried silver and banknotes on him, how dared he take them out to spend?"

Listening to Yi Xingzhi's words, the many scholars in the hall imagined the scene in their minds and shuddered one after another.

A man burning his own face with charcoal fire, then leading a child, with money he dared not spend, begging all the way to survive — just thinking of it was pitiful, and terrifying.

It was again that scholar surnamed Wang who first praised: "Your uncle's lofty righteousness — Wang admires it." So saying, he cupped his hands toward Yi Xingzhi to show his respect.

Yi Xingzhi, seeing the scholars in the hall all cupping their hands in salute, returned the gesture and said: "My thanks, gentlemen. My uncle's lofty righteousness — I, Yi Xingzhi, shall never forget it as long as I live."

After thanking the many scholars, Yi Xingzhi then continued: "It was only later, after my uncle and I had begged our way all the way to Lingnan, and finally reached Haojingao, that my uncle put me on a ship of the Western barbarians, sending me to study in the lands of the Western barbarians."

"It was not until four years ago, when I was approaching the capping age, that I returned from the lands of the Western barbarians. I took the alias Yi Zhixing, privately bribed the officials at Haojingao, and re-registered my household."

"Only, after I returned, through many inquiries, I learned that my second uncle, after sending me aboard the ship to the Far West, had gone back alone to Songjiang to seek revenge on Zhang Pu, Zhang Cai, and the others.

But my uncle was originally a scholar who could not even truss a chicken, and having burned his face with charcoal, he had contracted an illness. Before he even made it back to Songjiang, he had already died of illness in a small town along the road."

"It was only thanks to a kind-hearted person who took in his body for burial that he was not simply tossed onto a mass grave after death. After I had raised a new tomb for my uncle, I took part in the imperial examinations, and thus entered the Imperial Academy in the sixth year of Tianqi."

For a moment, all those present felt a pang of shared sorrow. Those girls who had feigned ignorance and not withdrawn were already, every one, their almond eyes brimming with tears, ceaselessly covering their faces with handkerchiefs and sobbing quietly.

Yi Xingzhi then laughed grimly again: "The Donglin Faction was judged a rebellious faction by the late emperor, and now they go about with their tails between their legs. As for the Restoration Society, it too vanished like smoke in the seventh year of Tianqi.

I had originally planned, after the spring examinations, to petition for an imperial favor and follow Lord Xu at the Royal Academy, spending the rest of my days in the company of machines and tools.

But now that the present Son of Heaven has established the Investigation of Things subject — gentlemen, why should I still go and take that jinshi examination?"

(End of Chapter)