Chapter 59: 058 Fashionista

"Smack!"

Before Zheng Zhongkui had even finished reading the article, someone in the adjacent private room slammed the table: "Well written! Men and women should naturally be equal, and the noble and the base should be equal too!"

Immediately, this person pushed open the door and came out, shouting cheerfully: "Who is Zhao Ziyue? Come quickly and drain three hundred cups with me!"

Zhao Han raised his head to look toward the second floor and was instantly startled.

This man was wearing a Confucian scholar's robe, but it was neither the regulation blue or white, nor the green for those who had failed the examinations. Instead… it was pink as the base, with bright red, purple, green, and yellow as accents.

He looked exactly like a human peacock draped in a scholar's robe!

Looking further at his head ornaments, the small golden cap, though gaudy, was still within the bounds of normal. But the hairpin passing through the cap actually had inlaid floral jewels dangling from it, swaying as he walked just like a woman's dangling hairpin.

With a flick of his raised hand, a folding fan spread open, and on its face was boldly painted a portrait of a court lady.

The Ming dynasty had cross-dressing fashionistas too?

Hmm, not exactly true cross-dressing either; strictly speaking, it was neither male nor female.

Zhao Han paced up to the second floor, cupped his hands, and said: "I am Zhao Han. May I ask the young master's esteemed name."

Seeing Zhao Han's youthful face, this man could not help but frown and say: "Zhao Ziyue is so young?"

Zhao Han countered: "If Your Excellency may wear strange attire, may I not be young?"

The man paused, then burst out laughing, clasped his fist, and said: "Fei Ruyi, courtesy name Changhuai, just returned from Suzhou. This outfit of mine is extremely fashionable in Suzhou."

"There are many who wear strange attire in Suzhou?" Zhao Han was quite surprised.

Fei Ruyi said smugly: "Not only Suzhou — in Suzhou, Songjiang, Changzhou, and Huzhou, those who wear strange attire are many!"

Late Ming society was extremely deformed.

The north was hell, the common people struggling for food and warmth; the south was like heaven, where fashion had already been born.

On one hand, thought was shackled, and many women followed their husbands in death; on the other hand, thought ran wild, and those who deviated from orthodoxy were numerous.

Where there is oppression, there is resistance.

Where there is shackling, there is recklessness.

The slogan of equality for all trades — Wang Gen had shouted it long ago, a hundred years ago.

The slogan of equality between men and women — Li Zhi had shouted it long ago, fifty years ago.

Wang Gen, Li Zhi — both were disciples and grand-disciples of Wang Yangming.

Now, when Zhao Han advocated equality for all, he had merely added the phrase "equality between the noble and the base."

So long as one did not openly preach rebellion, not to mention the central court, even the local authorities could not be bothered to interfere.

If Zhao Han were to make a great name for himself, he might even receive an official invitation to give lectures.

…

Zheng Zhongkui set down the magazine, deep in thought.

Fei Yuanlu picked it up and looked at it, and was instantly greatly angered, raging: "Heretical fallacies, arrogant to this degree — he actually dares to call himself Master Zhao!"

Zheng Zhongkui responded with a smile, neither agreeing nor refuting.

Fei Yuanlu rushed swiftly out of the private room, stood in the corridor, and shouted: "Which one is Zhao Ziyue?"

Zhao Han was just then speaking with Fei Ruyi. Hearing this, he turned, made a bow, and said: "Reporting to the Academy Head, this student is Zhao Ziyue."

Fei Yuanlu immediately had an impression: "You are Fei Meizhong's adopted son, Pang Weiran's student?"

"The Academy Head actually remembers this student — I am most honored." Zhao Han responded with composure.

Fei Yuanlu rebuked him: "You must not preach heretical fallacies. Take them all and burn them!"

Before Zhao Han could speak again, Fei Ruyi suddenly stepped forward: "Grandfather, your words are mistaken…"

"Fei Ruyi!"

Before this fellow could finish, Fei Yuanlu exploded, roaring: "What the devil are you wearing? Go home at once and change into something decent!"

Well, so they were grandfather and grandson.

Fei Ruyi was not the least bit afraid, and even deliberately spun around twice on the spot, showing off his beautiful attire to the fullest, and said with a cheeky grin: "Grandfather, you do not understand — this is splendid and beautiful raiment. The talented young men of Suzhou mostly dress this way."

"Utter nonsense," Fei Yuanlu was nearly faint with rage, and cursed furiously, "You shameless wretch, you said you were going to Jiangzuo on a study tour. After touring for several years and returning, you haven't even passed the juren exam, and all you've learned is this dog-fart nonsense? I… I… I'll beat you to death!"

Fei Ruyi raised a hand to block the old fist, arguing on solid grounds: "Grandfather, do not disrupt the ethical order. If you turn into my father, then what is my father supposed to do?"

"Ha ha ha ha!"

Instantly, the whole hall burst into laughter.

It turned out the diners on the first floor had long been watching the second-floor corridor, and at this moment they were all thoroughly amused by this grandfather and grandson pair.

Hearing the laughter, Fei Yuanlu immediately stopped his hand.

He pretended as if nothing had happened, adjusted his lapels to hide his embarrassment, and rebuked in a low voice: "Go inside to talk. Both of you, come in!"

Fei Yuanlu was the first to return to the private room; Zhao Han and Fei Ruyi could only follow.

Zheng Zhongkui rose and made a bow. The two hurriedly returned the courtesy, but hindered by Fei Yuanlu's presence, they could not exchange much.

Fei Ruyi was still acting obtuse, tugging at his own clothes and saying: "Grandfather, this garment's colors are dazzlingly brilliant. The dyeing alone is very expensive — ordinary dye workshops cannot produce it. If you see your grandson wear it for a few more days, you will surely find it pleasing to the eye."

Fei Yuanlu could not contain his fury and growled low: "You wretched thing — this yellow and purple, are they colors you are permitted to wear?"

Fei Ruyi gently waved his folding fan and said with a smile: "Heaven is high and the Emperor is far away. The authorities don't bother with it, so Grandfather need not worry."

"And furthermore," Fei Yuanlu pointed at his grandson's head, "what is the matter with this hairpin of yours? You learn nothing else, but you learn women's adornments!"

Fei Ruyi explained: "Grandfather misunderstands. This is not women's adornment; it is the fashionable attire of Suzhou."

Shishang means a popular vogue.

Shimao means cutting-edge talent.

Fei Yuanlu could not hold back his fire and roared fiercely: "Suzhou — a land of demons and monsters!"

Fei Ruyi muttered: "The clock in Grandfather's study seems also to be a product of Suzhou."

"Shut up!"

Fei Yuanlu's breathing quickened, but at least he didn't drop dead on the spot from sheer fury.

Zhao Han gazed out the window, pressing his lips tight to stifle a laugh.

Zheng Zhongkui lowered his head and read the magazine; he had already reached the second section, "On Liaodong."

"On Liaodong" was a column series, signed under the pen name "A Liaodong Commoner." The first installment did not expound grand principles, but simply introduced the origins of the Liaodong Tartars, beginning with Li Chengliang's attack on Wang Gao, and refuting Nurhaci's "Seven Grievances" point by point.

Zheng Zhongkui, like most Ming people, had no clear understanding of the Liaodong Tartars' background. After reading this article, he finally grasped the full picture.

He wanted to befriend this "Liaodong Commoner"!

Bang!

It was Fei Yuanlu who could no longer restrain himself. He hurled a plate, striking his grandson's forehead and breaking the skin, before the plate smashed against the wall and shattered to pieces.

Fei Ruyi touched his forehead, discovered he was bleeding, and immediately cried out in alarm, "It's going to scar my face!"

Fei Yuanlu roared, "Get home and reflect on your mistakes behind closed doors!"

Fei Ruyi dashed out of the private room, but not to go home and reflect — he was off to find a physician to treat the wound, terrified that his handsome forehead might bear a scar.

Fei Yuanlu's lingering fury had not abated. He pointed at Zhao Han. "You, a mere child student — how dare you style yourself 'Master Zhao'?"

Zhao Han put on an utterly innocent face and replied, "Headmaster, this student never styled himself 'Master Zhao.' The article is signed 'Master Zhao Says.'"

"What difference is there?" Fei Yuanlu demanded.

Zhao Han explained, "If signed 'Master Zhao,' it would be an arrogant usurpation of the sages. If signed 'Master Zhao Says,' it expresses a yearning for the sages. This student's surname is Zhao, and 'Says' comes from the Analects. The two joined together show that this student reveres the Analects and keeps the words of Confucius ever in mind."

Fei Yuanlu was so enraged he laughed. "Sophistry! What a glib-tongued child student. Then explain this: why do you violate the Confucian cardinal principles and write such things as 'All people under heaven are born equal'?"

"The article already explains it very clearly. Since the Headmaster still asks, I fear many fellow students at the academy must share the same doubts," Zhao Han said, a sly grin spreading across his face. "How about this: this student will bring the Ehu Ten-Day Journal to the academy, let all the fellow students read it, and have them write down any questions. We'll set a date, and this student will go to Pearl-Containing Mountain to receive the inquiries of the various teachers and fellow students."

Zheng Zhongkui, who had been reading the magazine, suddenly raised his head and looked at Zhao Han, thinking to himself that this kid had guts of steel.

This was a plan to debate the assembled scholars, spread his ideas to Pearl-Containing Mountain, sell his magazine there as well, and in the process, win himself a towering reputation.

Fei Yuanlu seemed to recall something. His furious expression vanished, replaced by a smile. "Bold indeed. I shall grant you this — let's see if you can withstand it!"

"What about three days from now?" Zhao Han set the date.

"Fine," Fei Yuanlu warned him again. "Whether you win or lose the debate, you will not escape the condemnation of a thousand pointing fingers. You will become the target of universal censure. Are you clear on that?"

Zhao Han cupped his hands in salute. "That is precisely what I desire."

In the mid-to-late Ming, deviating from orthodoxy was nothing to fear.

While a thousand fingers pointed in condemnation, countless others would also look on with admiration. Wang Gen and Li Zhi had both walked this same path in their day.

Li Zhi's arrest and imprisonment — propagating radical new ideas was merely the pretext. The real reasons were threefold:

First, Li Zhi wrote articles attacking Geng Dingxiang. He had once been a tutor at the Geng family's private school, invited there by Geng Dingli, yet somehow he had fallen out with the Geng family.

Second, Feng Yingjing was a fan of Li Zhi. The fan sought to meet his idol several times, but Li Zhi refused to see him, simply because the man had a poor reputation. From then on, Feng Yingjing nursed a grudge, transforming from a devoted follower into a spiteful hater.

Third, in his later years, Li Zhi grew very close to Matteo Ricci and absorbed a great deal of Christian thought, which led to severely strained relations with many scholars.

And so, Geng Dingxiang's disciples, Feng Yingjing, and the Donglin Faction (which had not yet formally coalesced into a party at the time) — these three parties joined forces to persecute Li Zhi and have him imprisoned.

Even so, the Wanli Emperor had no intention of doing anything severe to him; he merely ordered Li Zhi escorted back to his hometown. Li Zhi, unwilling to return home and lose face, and also old and sickly, fearing he would die of illness on the road back to Fujian, simply went ahead and committed suicide in prison.

With Li Zhi's fate as a cautionary tale, Zhao Han tried his best to avoid targeted personal attacks. Firing a broadside at everyone was safer than offending a petty man.

Now, as for Fei Yuanlu, by the time he left the restaurant his fury had completely dissipated. In high spirits, he headed for the county seat to welcome an important figure. He intended to use this opportunity to win fame and prestige for Pearl-Containing Academy and leave a deep impression on that prominent personage.

In Fei Yuanlu's eyes, the outcome of the debate was irrelevant, and Zhao Han was merely a tool.

As for Zhao Han, Fei Yuanlu was likewise a tool.

Each used the other, solely to win fame. Who cared about ritual teachings and cardinal principles?

(End of Chapter)