Chapter 181: Passion

Chen Xin shifted his sitting posture, his fingers tracing across the tabletop. "This book is said to have been written by Yuan Tiangang and Li Chunfeng of the Tang dynasty. Through the ages it has always been **, including in our own era. The ruling powers of every dynasty would tamper with it, or scramble its order before publishing, using that to pass fakes off as genuine and make it impossible for anyone to believe. In our time, the same tricks were used." He picked up that copy of Tui Bei Tu. "But we know what came after. At the very least, the copy in my hands is correct. Now the only thing I want to know is whether history is made by people, or made by Heaven's will."

Liu Minyou murmured, "Isn't it the people who create history?"

"The people of Great Ming or the people of Later Jin? Those armored soldiers, bayara, bondservants, slave-owners — they can hardly represent the inevitability of history. If the conquest of civilization by savagery can be summed up as an inevitability, then I would rather believe there is no law at all."

Liu Minyou said, "If Yuan Tiangang only had foreknowledge, perhaps it could be changed... If what he knew was so-called Heaven's will, does that mean we cannot obstruct this Heaven's will? Or maybe..." Liu Minyou stopped halfway through and fell silent.

"Go to Taiwan?" Chen Xin cast his gaze out the window. Groups of porters and merchants were arriving at the dock; vendors of every sort hawked breakfast along the riverside street. Yangzhou in the early morning brimmed with life.

"Minyou, have you heard the theory of the Hua-Yi transformation?"

"No."

"After the Manchu Qing entered the pass and settled the realm, several Japanese nobles compiled it from the accounts of Chinese ships crossing the sea, collecting their words. It was later assembled into the book Hua-Yi Transformation. Its central idea is that China twice fell to barbarians. During the Mongol Yuan, the Hua-Xia robes and caps could still be preserved. But after the Manchu Qing, robes and caps were gone, the land reeked everywhere of mutton stench, and China had become a land of barbarians. Meanwhile, the original surrounding barbarians inherited the true Chinese civilization. Hua transformed into Yi, and Yi transformed into Hua."

"The words of little Japan. How can they be taken seriously."

Chen Xin sighed. "The Hua-Yi transformation is the collapse of the Chinese civilizational sphere. After the Jiashen year, even Joseon and Annam regarded themselves as the true Zhonghua, and called our Zhonghua barbarian. In the Qing dynasty, even before the great powers invaded, they were already full of contempt for our Zhonghua, without a shred of respect."

Liu Minyou's face was calm as he listened to Chen Xin's account.

"The Manchu Qing, as northern barbarians occupying the Central Plains, never changed their primitive and savage nature. More vicious than the Mongol Yuan, they used literary inquisitions to castrate Chinese civilization, then dressed themselves up as a legitimate dynasty, using Han to rule Han while carrying out colonization in substance, dividing people into strata by ethnicity. All Manchus were masters; all Han people were slaves and bondservants. They used the blood and fat of Hua-Xia to nurture an entire race that produced nothing. The great, luxuriant tree of Zhonghua, under the strangling grip of this parasitic tree, became a queue-wearing nation to be carved up at will. That day you saw Silva yourself — Great Ming was still the beautiful realm they admired. But a hundred years later, Zhonghua had become a semi-barbaric land in Western eyes, while the West advanced by great strides in the arts and sciences. And we, only in the modern era, had to retrieve Ming-dynasty books like Tiangong Kaiwu and Shenqi Pu from Japan."

Liu Minyou said quietly, "Those books, we can transport them away. Preserve the Hua-Xia civilization."

"Minyou, you are wrong." Chen Xin's voice rose. Liu Minyou looked at him, somewhat taken aback — this good friend had always been mild-mannered and had never once rebuked him to his face.

"Civilization is not books. Civilization is the torch passed down from generation to generation, the self-respect and self-confidence instilled imperceptibly, the brilliant art and literature, the heroic spirit of Han Wudi sweeping across the great desert, the tragic grandeur of Yashan where they leaped into the sea, the bloody defiance of 'keep your hair or keep your head.' Without people possessing such pride, what talk can there be of civilization? What ruler of any nation could utter 'keep your head, not your hair,' could say 'better to give to foreigners than to household slaves,' could spout such crap as 'measure the material resources of Zhonghua to win the favor of the nation'? Only colonizers can. How can a nation under colonial rule even presume to speak of civilization? Several hundred years from now, how many people will sift through piles of old paper to see the brilliance of civilization?"...

Chen Xin pointed out the window. "Yesterday you asked me why the Yangzhou Qingming Festival is gone. A dozen or so years from now, this place will suffer a massacre ten times more brutal than Yongping. The eight hundred thousand people who went out to enjoy Qingming will all die here. The whole city will be piled with corpses blocking the roads, the stench of death spreading for miles. Without those people, the Yangzhou Qingming Festival will be reduced to nothing but words. And how many more Yangzhous are there under Heaven?"

Liu Minyou sighed. "Doesn't Great Ming have plenty of suffering too?"

Chen Xin nodded. "Great Ming's control over all domains is very weak. In areas that need looseness — culture, thought, commerce — it produced extreme prosperity. But in the military and political domains, that lack of control became a fatal poison. Politically, there was no force to counterbalance the civil officials and scholar-gentry. The center's control over the populace grew weaker and weaker. The artificially imposed hierarchy of scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants, the rotten-to-the-core military household and artisan household systems, the enormous gap between rich and poor, all without any regime intervention to regulate — sooner or later it would collapse anyway. It certainly has very serious problems. But it should not be replaced by savagery and ignorance."

Liu Minyou was now very calm. Chen Xin also said nothing more. Liu Minyou stared at the floor and said, "So you're doing it to save civilization?"

Chen Xin chuckled. "Of course not. I am very fond of power, but I'm not someone who doesn't value his life. If it were an ordinary dynastic change, perhaps I'd agree to be a rich man, do some business together, visit whorehouses, live out a stable life, and before dying write a muddled sequel to Tui Bei Tu to mess with future generations. But this time it's not that. The Manchu Qing are a more vicious enemy than the Mongol Yuan. This is the true fall of all-under-Heaven. Since I'm here, whether I die well or badly, it's still dying once. Life is nothing but a brief stop in Death's waiting room — once you figure that out, there's nothing much to fear. To hell with whatever Heaven's mandate or foreknowledge — I, your father, will gamble with Heaven this once."

At that moment the boat began to slowly move. The chant of the trackers rose outside. The street along the bank grew more and more crowded. Liu Minyou watched the bustling stream of people — the hawking vendors, the merchants in sumptuous clothes, the groups of porters, the women out on excursions. Amidst them he seemed to see the young master dressed as an actor, the old farmer selling oranges, Lian He, Silva...

Liu Minyou suddenly burst out laughing. He snatched up Tui Bei Tu and with a sweep of his hand flung it out the window into the waters of the Grand Canal. The book floated on the surface, drifting south with the current.

Liu Minyou then turned to Chen Xin and said, "Then I'll join you, my brother, in this gamble. If it's Heaven's will, we'll accept it."

Chen Xin teased, "Not going to Taiwan anymore? When did you decide?"

"Yongping. I don't have as much civilizational sentiment as you, but I cannot watch countless people die and do nothing. They are all real people — it's not that they aren't there just because I haven't seen them. You may love power, but that's not a fault. I believe that if you gained the realm, no matter what, it would be better than the Manchu Qing. Life may also be a dream — who can tell illusion from reality? I'll just do what I think is right. As you said, whether a good death or a bad death, it's still dying once. We've lived as men of two eras — we haven't lost out. Since you want to go all in, I'll help you add some chips. Maybe we'll win, who knows."

Chen Xin extended his palm with a smile. "With Minyou helping me, what have I to fear?"

Liu Minyou shook his head and reached out his hand. The two hands clasped tightly together.

Above the Grand Canal, the morning sun rose in the east, its dawn glow filling the sky. (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, welcome to come to (.) and cast recommendation votes and monthly votes. Your support is my greatest motivation.)