Chapter 117: A Multitude of Opinions, the Law's Bone Sheathes Its Edge

"What, then, is the true malady of our Great Ming today?"

That question, like an unseen fire-stirring rod, utterly ignited the passion of every Hanlin scholar present.

Their faces flushed crimson with excitement, spittle flying through the air.

Only when several towering, broad-shouldered Han Generals raised their maces with expressionless faces did the nearly uncontrollable debate pause for a moment.

The ministers were ushered out of Wenhua Hall, but that unspent fervor did not diminish in the slightest.

"Come, back to the Hanlin Academy to continue!" they said.

The Emperor, as was his custom, had set out a banquet beneath the Huiji Gate as a reward, but the scholars ignored it entirely, striding straight through the gate.

By the time they returned to the Hanlin Academy, this wave of enthusiasm had reached its peak.

The eldest Expositor-in-Waiting, Sui Shi, stroked his graying beard, and looking upon this unprecedented scene before him, could not help but shake his head and chuckle ruefully.

At the other end of the courtyard, several young and hot-blooded Hanlin scholars had already formed a circle and begun a second round of fierce debate.

"His Majesty's discourse today can truly be said to have revealed what no predecessor ever saw!" The first to speak was Ni Yuanlu, his eyes blazing as he waved his arms excitedly. "The words of the sages are remedies suited to their time, not an immutable elixir for all ages! With these words spoken, our pursuit of learning shall open a new heaven!"

"Exactly!" Fu Guan slapped his thigh forcefully and echoed loudly, "And why stop at Confucianism alone!"

"From ancient times to the present, when we read history, we have always looked only at success and failure, discussed only ideology, but when have we ever put ourselves in their place to consider why the former worthies held such ideas? With this single insight, the study of history itself may well open a new chapter!"

The crowd nodded in agreement, sharing in the honor.

At that moment, the steady-natured Wang Zuoyuan furrowed his brow: "Speaking of learning suited to the times, that Yongjia School His Majesty mentioned just now seems to emphasize 'the union of righteousness and profit,' which sounds... somehow not quite right."

At these words, the previously fervent crowd looked at one another, and for a moment, no one could offer a reply.

The Yongjia teachings, confined to a remote corner, were something all present had heard of, but few had studied deeply.

Sui Shi happened to come by and steered the topic in another direction: "Let us set aside Yongjia's utilitarian teachings for the moment. But this line of thought from His Majesty today, this 'seeking answers for the present age' — to this old man, it sounds rather similar to one person."

"Who?"

"Wang Anshi, Wang Jinggong."

"Bah!" The fiery-tempered Wang Tingyuan, without a second thought, erupted in fury, "How can that self-righteous, people-oppressing treacherous minister Wang Anshi be mentioned in the same breath as His Majesty!"

"His Majesty's discourse is a rectification of the roots, the very Way of the Sages! Wang Anshi's set of policies was nothing but an act of ruining the state under the pretext of reform, enriching the treasury at the people's expense!"

His words were delivered with absolute finality, drawing nods of agreement from many.

Yet among the Hanlin scholars, there was never a shortage of contrarians.

A cold voice rang out: "Brother Wang, you are mistaken! If we judge by the era, Wang Jinggong lived in the Song dynasty, facing the blight of the three redundancies — surplus officials, surplus soldiers, surplus expenses — with the state treasury empty and border defenses neglected. He stepped forward, striving for reform, seeking to resolve the predicament of his age. How can he not be called a worthy minister who 'sought answers for his present age'?"

The crowd turned to look — the speaker was none other than Ni Yuanlu, who had been mobbed just the day before.

Wang Tingyuan's anger flared instantly: "A worthy minister? He implemented the Green Sprouts Law — the intent was good, but once it reached the localities, it became nothing but extortionate tyranny! He enacted the Remission of Service Law, yet how many commoners were left with ruined homes and broken families? A man who brought calamity to the state and its people like this — he deserves to be called worthy?"

Ni Yuanlu did not yield an inch, stepping forward to confront him: "Can the flaws of implementation be laid entirely at the feet of the legislator? Without Wang Jinggong's reforms, without the amassed coin and grain, how could there have been the expansion of borders in the Xining era?"

"To condemn yesterday's wrongs by today's standards is to carve notches on a moving boat; to cover today's faults with yesterday's merits is to climb a tree in search of fish. Now that we have studied His Majesty's method today, we ought to discuss this fairly!"

"You!"

As the two seemed about to come to blows, the bystanders hurriedly pulled them apart to mediate.

But this debate also plunged the surrounding Hanlin scholars into deep thought.

Indeed, the Song had its three redundancies — surplus officials, surplus soldiers, surplus expenses — ills so deep they were beyond easy remedy.

Wang Anshi's reforms were indeed a drastic dose of medicine prescribed under those specific circumstances.

Then... what of our Great Ming?

With thoughts swirling in every mind, this corner of the courtyard fell silent.

In another corner, Huang Jingfang, Zhang Weiji, and others gathered together, discussing more practical concerns.

"Thank heavens, thank heavens we didn't rush in to answer His Majesty's final question," Zhang Weiji said, patting his chest with lingering fear. "Otherwise, we'd be laughingstocks by now."

"Isn't that the truth?" Huang Jingfang smiled bitterly. "Those traditional policy essays are now wastepaper. His Majesty won't glance at a single one; he only reads statecraft documents."

Zhang Weiji picked up the thread: "Isn't that the truth? We all thought before that these statecraft documents were Xue Guoguan's invention."

"But from the look of things today, this so-called Xue Statecraft is nothing more than a parrot repeating another's words."

"His Majesty has no love for personal fame, yet it has allowed Xue Guoguan to gain an enormous reputation for nothing."

Xiang Yu said with a worried frown, "But we Hanlin scholars spend our days among piles of old paper, with no hand in actual administration. How are we supposed to begin writing these statecraft documents? We can't just build a cart behind closed doors, can we?"

"Then go ask, go investigate!" Ni Yuanlu had come over from the neighboring group at some point, his eyes burning bright, his words ringing with force. "We are in the Hanlin Academy, with leisure and idle time — we are not without mouths or feet. Are we afraid we cannot figure it out?"

"The Six Ministries are right nearby. Among our colleagues and fellow examination graduates, there are always those we know well. Pay them a visit, humbly seek their guidance — are we afraid we cannot produce something?"

These words left Xiang Yu red-faced with shame, and the others awkwardly fell silent.

Seriously... when you stand on the moral high ground and open fire like that, how are the rest of us supposed to chat?

The conversation-killer Ni Yuanlu, utterly oblivious to this, looked around with his black-and-blue eye sockets and charged off toward yet another cluster of debaters.

Qi Xinxiao took part in none of these discussions.

Like a ghost, he drifted silently through the noisy crowd and returned to his desk, hemmed in on three sides by piles of books.

The debates of his colleagues — whether about methods of scholarship or about statecraft documents — all sounded to him as if separated by a layer, never reaching the root.

Was everything His Majesty had set forth today truly meant only to open a new scholarly ethos?

He did not believe it.

This new sovereign's mind was deeper than the Eastern Sea.

Qi Xinxiao rummaged irritably through his stacks of books, the volumes rustling noisily under his hands.

At last, his fingers touched a familiar hard cover.

— A Combined Edition of Guanzi and Han Feizi.

He hastily pulled it out, his eyes skimming ten lines at a glance, his fingertips whitening from the force of his grip.

Finally, he turned to the chapter "The Five Vermin."

Qi Xinxiao's gaze locked firmly onto several lines of text, his finger coming to rest upon them, and he could not help but murmur them aloud, his voice carrying a tremor of discovery.

"Thus, whoever in the present age now extols the Dao of Yao, Shun, Tang, Wu, and Yu will surely be laughed at by the new sage."

The new sage!

"Therefore the sage does not expect to follow antiquity, does not take what is ordinarily permissible as his model, but examines the affairs of his age and makes his preparations accordingly."

Examines the affairs of his age and makes his preparations accordingly!

Indeed, that is exactly it!

Qi Xinxiao felt as if a bolt of lightning had exploded inside his mind, instantly illuminating all the fog!

All that Wang An and Jing learning, all that Yongjia practical statecraft — they were all wrong!

The root of His Majesty's argument clearly originates from the doctrines of Han Fei, set forth two thousand years ago!

It is the doctrine of the Legalist school!

With a snap, Qi Xinxiao shut the book and stuffed it haphazardly back into the pile. He stared blankly out the window, his chest heaving violently.

He slowly turned his head to look at his colleagues, still arguing over Wang Anshi's merits and errors until their faces were red and their ears flushed. His eyes narrowed slightly, a complex and unreadable glint passing through them.

So — am I the only one who has discovered this?

The figure who had submitted that memorial on the Yongjia School flashed through Qi Xinxiao's mind. That person, perhaps, had discovered it too.

But this man Han Feizi embraced both statecraft and law.

Since His Majesty has taken the bone-structure of the Legalist school, could he possibly... not take its statecraft as well?

The thought was like an icy serpent, slithering up his spine, and he could not suppress a shiver.

He shook his head violently, not daring to pursue the thought any deeper.

Spreading out a sheet of pure white xuan paper, Qi Xinxiao began slowly grinding ink.

The inkstick traced circles on the inkstone with a soft, rasping sound, and his disordered thoughts gradually settled.

On the previous question, he had already lost the initiative.

On this question, he absolutely could not miss his chance again!

"What is the problem facing the Great Ming today?"

How exactly was he to answer this question?

Beside him, the discussion among his colleagues continued, drifting over in fragments.

"It must be the civil service! Official corruption is the source of every ill!"

"Not at all! It is plainly the hearts of men! The gentry have no sense of shame, the common people have no trust or righteousness — when men's hearts are rotten, the state cannot stand!"

"In my view, it is all fiscal administration and the Nine Frontiers! The lifeblood of the realm is drained entirely into the banquets of the border generals — how could there not be chaos!"

Qi Xinxiao shook his head once more.

No, none of them were right.

Answering that way would only mean falling into His Majesty's trap all over again.

This new sovereign was never waiting for an answer.

Every time he posed a question, he had long since prepared an answer that would shake heaven and earth.

And he, Qi Xinxiao —

this time, he would surely find the true answer hidden beneath the surface!

The light of confidence rekindled in Qi Xinxiao's eyes. He raised his brush, heavy with ink, and held it poised above the paper.

The hour of the monkey.

The slanting western sun stretched the shadow of the Hanlin Academy long across the ground.

The clamor in the compound finally dispersed with the bell marking the end of the workday. The officials in each office packed their things and left in twos and threes to go home, still discussing what they had seen and heard that day as they walked.

Qi Xinxiao slumped in his cold chair and let out a long sigh.

The white paper before him remained utterly blank.

He had racked his brains for an entire afternoon, until his head ached as if it would split, yet he could not write a single word.

Han Feizi's "Five Vermin" chapter — among the Great Ming's readers, if not a hundred thousand, then at least eighty thousand have read it. Yet in these two thousand years, apart from His Majesty, who has ever drawn from it such a heaven-shaking method of scholarship?

Some things, once spoken plainly, are no more than a thin sheet of window paper.

But to pierce through that sheet of paper — who knows how much luck and mastery that requires.

His heart heavy with cares, Qi Xinxiao rose and followed the flow of people out.

Perhaps... he should just let it go?

Do as those colleagues did — pick a field he was familiar with, go to the Six Ministries and ask around, and honestly write a statecraft policy paper on civil governance or fiscal administration?

But he had never been fond of socializing, and his temperament was solitary. For a moment, he could not even recall a single official he knew in any of the Six Ministries.

Besides, now that everyone was hoping to ride this auspicious wind, unless they were the closest of friends or kin, who would truly pour out all they knew?

Qi Xinxiao was indecisive, his mind a tangled mess, so much so that he did not even hear someone calling him from behind.

"Junior Compiler Qi! Junior Compiler Qi!"

Only after several crisp calls was he startled out of his chaotic thoughts.

He turned his head and saw a young eunuch with fine, clear features standing not far away, smiling at him.

Almost instantly, Qi Xinxiao realized what this meant.

His heart began to pound — without warning, yet with tremendous force. A surge of hot blood rushed to his head, making him feel slightly dizzy.

Just as he expected, the young eunuch stepped forward briskly, cupped his hands in a respectful salute, his face wreathed in smiles.

"Junior Compiler Qi, His Majesty summons you to the palace. Please come with me at once."

The excitement and anticipation he had suppressed all day erupted in that moment, and Qi Xinxiao almost stepped forward by pure instinct.

"Junior Compiler Qi," the young eunuch did not move, but merely smiled and pointed at his own ear. "Where is your mask?"

Qi Xinxiao started violently, then understood at once.

He hastily cupped his hands and said, "Please wait just a moment, Eunuch!"

With that, he turned and dashed into the Hanlin Academy.

He jogged all the way back to his desk, pulled that object out from under a book, and when he reached the academy gate, he stopped abruptly.

He drew several deep breaths, smoothed the creases from his official robe, and only then reassembled an air of unhurried composure, walking out with measured steps.

The young eunuch, seeing him emerge, merely smiled without exposing him, turned, and said, "Follow me."

Qi Xinxiao followed silently behind the young eunuch, treading upon the smooth palace bricks, his mind twisting through a thousand turns along the way.

Had his policy essay on Wang Anshi caught His Majesty's eye?

Yes! It must be!

His Majesty intends to launch new policies, to reform the prevailing ethos. Even if, for the sake of placating the court officials, he cannot openly rehabilitate Wang Anshi, in private he ultimately approves of this approach — "using history as a mirror to seek solutions for the present."

And indeed, only his own essay on Lord Wang came closest to His Majesty's Legalist discourse.

He had truly placed his bet on the right horse with this move!

Only... what of the person who submitted that Yongjia utilitarian policy essay? Had he been summoned as well?

Qi Xinxiao could not resist glancing back.

The corridor leading to Qianqing Palace stretched empty and long under the setting sun; apart from the occasional bowed palace sweeper, there was no one else.

Before long, Qianqing Palace loomed in the distance.

Even before reaching the hall, Qi Xinxiao spotted from afar two figures in cyan official robes, standing quietly beneath the steps before the hall.

Why were there two?

Though doubt stirred in his heart, his steps did not falter, and he walked straight toward them.

Perhaps hearing his footsteps, one of the figures turned around first.

The bruise at the corner of this man's eye remained conspicuous even under a layer of powder.

Seeing Qi Xinxiao, he first froze, then his face broke into a delighted smile, and he cupped his hands toward him.

Qi Xinxiao smiled too, quickened his pace forward, and returned the salute with cupped hands: "Brother Yuru, I wondered who it might be — so it is you here!"

The other cyan-robed official, hearing the commotion, finally turned around as well.

The instant he recognized that face, Qi Xinxiao's smile tightened slightly, a flicker of surprise passing through his eyes.

And that man, upon seeing Qi Xinxiao, clearly froze too, his originally somewhat vacant gaze sharpening to a point in an instant.

Neither spoke a word; they merely stood a few paces apart and, as if by unspoken agreement, cupped their hands toward each other.

— So it's you. ×2