Chapter 30: 030 Master Pang

The bamboo grove.

Master and servant crouched facing each other, staring at a small pit between them.

Fei Ruhe muttered, "It's been three days already — why haven't the gourds sprouted?"

"Could the seeds be bad?" Fei Chun racked his brain, then suddenly felt he'd cracked the case. He sprang up in fury. "That old farmer must have given me dud seeds. This is outright bullying!"

Fei Ruhe rolled his eyes. "With no grudge between you, why would he give you bad seeds — just to invite you to come beat him up?"

"The young master has a point." Fei Chun crouched back down and muttered, "Could it be I didn't water them enough?"

Fei Ruhe asked, "Did you water them every day?"

Fei Chun said, "Yesterday I spilled the water halfway here, so I used my piss instead. The farmers on the estate water their crops with dung and urine too — I hear it enriches the soil better than clean water."

"You bastard!"

Fei Ruhe flew into a rage, threw himself at his pageboy, and seized him by the collar. "You actually dared use your own piss to drench this young master's gourd children! I'll — I'll kill you!"

Fei Chun pleaded in panic, "Spare me, young master! Dung and urine fertilize the soil — the gourds will only grow better!"

Fei Ruhe refused to let it go and kicked his pageboy flat on his back. "Even if the gourd children grow faster, when they're born they'll probably refuse to call me Grandpa. More likely they'll roar: 'Hey there, you scoundrel! You made me eat shit and drink piss — today you'll die a wretched death!'"

"N-no... that can't be." Sweat beaded on Fei Chun's forehead as he grasped the gravity of the situation.

"Pfft!"

Zhao Han had been in the bamboo grove for a while and simply couldn't hold back his laughter any longer.

Fei Ruhe finally released his pageboy, pointed at the little pit where the gourds were planted, and said to Zhao Han, "These gourd children — they haven't died in the womb, suffocated by the stench of piss, have they?"

Zhao Han could barely contain his mirth. "Young master, it's already late autumn turning to early winter. Who have you ever seen planting crops in the dead of winter? And it's only been three days since you planted them — even if they could sprout, it wouldn't be that fast."

"Right, right, not that fast!" Fei Chun hastily chimed in.

A young master and a pageboy — what did either of them know about farming?

Zhao Han couldn't help asking, "Young master, you haven't actually lost your wits, have you? Do you really believe these will grow into gourd children?"

Fei Ruhe chuckled. "I'm not really stupid — I'm just planting them for fun."

Fei Chun scrambled up from the ground. "I'm playing along with the young master."

Zhao Han: "..."

So these two weren't idiots after all — they were just putting on an act to amuse themselves.

Fei Ruhe picked up his great blade, swung it a few times casually, and asked, "Why did the teacher let you out today?"

"Ah," Zhao Han sighed. "I lied and said I had stomach trouble, slipped out to get some air."

Fei Chun immediately gloated, laughing loudly. "Ha! The young master said you'd last half a month — who'd have thought you couldn't take it after just three days?"

Who could take it?

Afraid Zhao Han wouldn't keep up with the pace of study, Pang Chunlai gave him extra tutoring every single day, and wouldn't even let him rest after classes ended.

At first, Zhao Han studied with absolute diligence, reciting the Great Learning even lying in bed.

He thought this would get him out of his misery sooner — but when Pang Chunlai saw his astonishing progress, he grew more and more excited and announced he was extending the after-class tutoring sessions.

It was exactly like cramming for the imperial exams!

In three days, Zhao Han could already recite the entire Great Learning from memory.

That wasn't much in itself — it's only about two thousand characters, something anyone with a decent memory could manage — but Pang Chunlai also made him memorize Zhu Xi's commentary.

That was utterly absurd. With the main text included, it came to nearly ten thousand characters!

Zhao Han absolutely refused to memorize the commentary — it went against his philosophy of learning. The main text was exquisitely worded and worth memorizing in full, but Zhu Xi's commentary only needed to be understood; forcing himself to memorize it was a pure waste of time and energy.

The Gourd Children story wasn't long to begin with; he'd finished telling it in his spare time yesterday, so master and servant weren't pestering him about it now.

Fei Ruhe hefted his great blade and began training. Zhao Han sat nearby watching him swing the blade and asked offhandedly, "What exactly is Master Pang's background?"

"No idea." Fei Ruhe didn't stop, hacking out one stroke after another.

Fei Chun set down his staff to slack off. "I heard the eldest young master say that Master Pang used to serve as a private secretary to someone. His patron was some high official who lost his post in the factional struggles."

So that was it — no ordinary old pedant after all.

In the final years of the Wanli reign, factional strife was fierce.

The Zhe Faction, the Qi Faction, and the Chu Faction allied together, collectively known as the "Qi-Chu-Zhe Faction." They controlled the Nanjing capital evaluation and purged Donglin members en masse. The Donglin Faction controlled the Beijing capital evaluation and purged the Qi-Chu-Zhe Faction en masse.

After that, the two sides took turns controlling the capital evaluations, attacking each other with ever-increasing viciousness.

After Wei Zhongxian rose to power, the Qi-Chu-Zhe Faction, barely holding on, flocked to the eunuch's side and formed the eunuch faction's power base.

It's hard to say which side was good and which was bad — six of one, half a dozen of the other.

Zhao Han suddenly grew curious about current politics. He immediately ran to the library and, using his student card, borrowed several hand-copied gazettes.

They were all stale news from half a year ago; freshly issued gazettes were quite expensive.

He opened one from this past February. He could understand the official transfers, but the implications behind them completely eluded him.

Zhan Shilong, Left Provincial Administration Commissioner of Shaanxi, was transferred to serve as Chief Minister of the Court of Imperial Entertainments in Nanjing.

This transfer could be read as a promotion in name but a demotion in fact — packed off to Nanjing by his political enemies to be put out to pasture. It could also be a harbinger of greater responsibilities (unlikely), using the Nanjing Court of Imperial Entertainments post as a stepping stone to pad his résumé before a rapid rise.

Which faction did Zhan Shilong belong to? Was this move good or bad for him? Who was his patron at court?

Zhao Han stared at the page, utterly in the dark.

But he didn't lose heart. He took out the rough paper he used for calligraphy practice and began copying down key terms from the gazette.

After transcribing several entries, it was nearly time for class.

Back in the classroom, the other students trickled in one after another. Pang Chunlai, as usual, announced they would begin recitation review.

Zhao Han went up to the lectern and said, "Teacher, this student has a few questions to ask."

"This is exactly how one should apply oneself." Pang Chunlai was very pleased.

Zhao Han asked quietly, "Who is Zhan Shilong?"

Pang Chunlai's nearsighted eyes narrowed to slits as he scrutinized Zhao Han. "Why do you ask about him?"

"This student just went to the library and happened to glance at a few official reports," Zhao Han said.

Pang Chunlai had been about to scold him and urge him to study properly. But he felt Zhao Han was well-behaved enough, and there was no need to say more, so he answered: "Zhan Shilong is a native of Guangxin Prefecture. His hometown is right next door to Yanshan; he comes from a great clan of Yongfeng. His son, Zhan Zhaoheng, is currently studying right here at the Pearl-in-Hand Academy. That boy is a prodigy of heaven-sent talent — he'll likely pass the metropolitan graduate examination before he even turns twenty!"

Well, well — the very first person he asked about turned out to be a local, and his son was studying right here on this mountainside.

Fei Yinghuan's close friend Hu Mengtai, historically, would exhaust his family fortune resisting the Qing, and after holding the city for months, both he and his wife would die for their country.

And the Zhan Zhaoheng whom Master Pang had just mentioned would also exhaust his family fortune resisting the Qing, personally leading three thousand local troops into battle; only eighteen would survive, and he himself would die a hero's death for his country.

On this tiny Pearl-in-Hand Mountain, there were two men of anti-Qing resolve, right now shut away in the academy preparing for the examinations.

Fei Yinghuan could barely be counted as well — he later joined the Restoration Society to resist the Qing, and after the failure, fled back to his hometown and lived in seclusion.

Zhao Han pressed on: "And who is Lu Shanji?"

"That man is Sun Chengzong's right-hand man… No," Pang Chunlai's eyes suddenly widened, and he glared at him furiously. "At your tender age, instead of studying properly, why are you asking about all these court officials?"

Zhao Han explained: "I was only asking offhand. In the official reports from the second month that this student just read, the first minister mentioned was Zhan Shilong, and the second was Lu Shanji."

Pang Chunlai barked: "Get out!"

Zhao Han promptly scrammed, not daring to linger a moment longer — Master Pang was truly angry now.

Pang Chunlai closed his eyes to rest, his chest heaving, his breathing rapid, unable to calm himself for a long while.

The name Lu Shanji had stirred up some old memories — some very unhappy old memories!

Pang Chunlai's patron was named Wang Zaijin, and contrary to what is recorded in the History of Ming, Wang Zaijin was not some man of no foresight who knew nothing of military affairs. The man had risen to prominence precisely by fighting Japanese pirates, and half of the posts he had held throughout his career were military-related.

In the second year of Tianqi, Wang Zaijin replaced Xiong Tingbi as Minister of War and concurrently Right Vice Censor-in-Chief, serving as Military Commissioner of Liaodong, Ji Garrison, Tianjin, and Denglai.

Wang Zaijin advocated strategic contraction — abandoning most of the territory beyond the passes and centering the defense on Shanhai Pass, constructing layer upon layer of barrier fortifications. In this way, both the financial and military pressures of Liaodong could be eased; strategic points could be concentrated for defense, and when the moment was right, offensive strikes could still be launched.

And so, Wang Zaijin was finished — he had dared to cut Liaodong's military expenditures, he had dared to voluntarily abandon the hereditary domains of the Liaodong military clans!

Yuan Chonghuan was pushed forward as a pawn and went to whisper reports in Ye Xianggao's ear.

Then Sun Chengzong stepped in, requesting to inspect Shanhai Pass. Upon returning to the capital, he declared Wang Zaijin incompetent and began the large-scale construction of a long, narrow defensive line. From that point on, Liaodong became a complete financial black hole.

Just this year, in the third month, Wang Zaijin came back again.

In the span of half a year, he was first made Minister of Justice, then Minister of War, and then dismissed from office and sent home.

Wang Qia, who had never touched military affairs in his life, succeeded him as Minister of War — this man was a protégé of the Donglin Faction grandee Zhao Nanxing!

Pang Chunlai read the official reports every month. When he saw that Wang Zaijin had been dismissed and sent home, and that Wang Qia had taken over as Minister of War, Master Pang thought to himself: Liaodong is doomed…

(What can one say about Sun Chengzong? His military ability was rather watered down — this assessment may make some readers uncomfortable.

(End of chapter)