Chapter 205: Paths Align, Aspirations Unite: Borrowing a Ladder to Climb to Heaven

Outside Wuying Hall, the officials drifted away in twos and threes, their faces still flushed with the lingering excitement of the great northern expedition's victory.

But Xu Guangqi did not join this impromptu post-mortem among colleagues.

The moment the meeting ended, he hurried back to the Ministry of Rites' yamen almost at a flying pace.

His desk was covered with memorials, piled up like a small mountain.

"Memorial on Establishing Water-Field Camps in Northern Zhili," "Memorial Recommending Officials for Agricultural Construction," "Memorial on Promoting Sweet Potatoes for Disaster Relief to Suppress Local Uprisings," "Memorial Requesting the Purchase of Western Barbarian Cannon," "Memorial Requesting the Construction of Bastions in Liaodong," "Memorial Requesting the Training of Troops in Western Battle Formations," "Memorial Requesting the Establishment of a Calendar Bureau to Revise the New Calendar," "Memorial Requesting the Opening of a Translation Bureau for Western Maps and Books"——

Ever since Xu Guangqi had been recalled to office, he had held no proper substantive post.

So he simply holed up in the yamen every day, pouring all the learning and reflections of his decades into these policy essays.

Some of these essays had already been submitted, while others were still being revised and corrected.

Among the submitted memorials, "Memorial on Establishing Water-Field Camps in Northern Zhili" and "Memorial on Promoting Sweet Potatoes for Disaster Relief" had both passed review by the Secretariat and the Committee and were currently in the approval and revision stage — progress could be considered smooth.

Of course, some had not progressed smoothly.

On that "Memorial Requesting the Training of Troops in Western Battle Formations," the Emperor had inscribed only one line in vermilion: "Minister Xu, please refrain from submitting further memorials on military affairs. This truly is not something that can be accomplished by armchair strategizing."

That single line had left this sixty-five-year-old man so vexed that his mood was foul for days.

On what grounds do you say I am merely an armchair strategist? Though I have never stood on the front line, I have in fact supervised and drilled troops in person — how can you so besmirch an innocent man's honor?

But a sovereign is a sovereign, and a subject is a subject.

The Emperor had said he did not wish to see more, and though Xu Guangqi was utterly unconvinced, he could hardly submit another memorial to defend himself. Yet in his heart, a stifled breath of indignation remained.

However, today's court conference and that exhilarating, sweeping victory had transformed that stifled breath in the old man's heart into a different kind of heroic fervor.

He returned to his desk, drew a deep breath, and stretched out his gaunt yet powerful hands, sweeping the great heap of memorials aside to clear a clean, empty space before him.

Then, with solemn gravity, he took a blank routine memorial and placed it squarely and properly.

He picked up his brush, dipped it full of ink, and at the head of the memorial, stroke by stroke, wrote the title:

"Memorial Requesting the Reestablishment of the Early Dynasty Office of Agricultural Supervision to Oversee the Empire's Grain Production."

The crux of the struggle between man and land lies in grain.

The key to controlling the Mongols and maneuvering freely among them also lies in grain.

The key to selecting and training crack troops, and after a decade of accumulation retaking Liaodong, also lies in grain!

Hong Chengchou's proposal today to establish a Court of Colonial Affairs had inspired him — agricultural affairs, too, should have a dedicated authority!

Not even a new authority, but a restored authority!

The military farmlands of the guard stations are overseen by the Farmland Clearance Bureau of the Ministry of Works — but what of the empire's civilian farmlands?

How are sweet potatoes to be promoted? How are water fields to be promoted? How are all manner of yield-increasing methods to be promoted? Should there not be a new agency responsible for this?

The Office of Agricultural Supervision, established at the dynasty's founding and later abolished and merged, was precisely such an agency.

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Xu Guangqi's mood was splendid; he had completely forgotten the minor grievance of a few days prior. Once again he let his brush fly, writing with great vigor and at great length.

He wrote on until the world grew dim, oblivious to all else, lost to himself and his surroundings.

Only when a pair of hands gently waved before his face did Xu Guangqi startle abruptly from between the lines of text. "Sir Xu. Sir Xu."

He raised his head and saw two young eunuchs standing before his desk, smiling as they looked at him.

Xu Guangqi came back to himself. He adjusted his eyeglasses, and with a stir in his heart and a trace of hopeful anticipation, he spoke:

"Gentlemen Eunuchs, could it be — that it is my turn?"

The young eunuch on the left smiled and said, "It is. His Majesty's schedule has just been updated. We have been ordered to come and notify Sir Xu."

The eunuch on the right cleared his throat and took over: "By His Majesty's verbal decree——"

Hearing this, Xu Guangqi dared not be remiss. He hastily rose from his seat, adjusted his robes and cap, and bowed low.

Only then did the eunuch continue: "Summon Xu Guangqi, Vice Minister of the Right of the Ministry of Rites, to an audience tomorrow."

"The duration of this meeting shall be from the beginning of the Wei hour to the middle of the Wei hour, totaling half a shichen."

"Sir Xu is requested to arrive one shichen early and queue outside the Chengtian Gate to wait. At the appointed time, an inner attendant will come to guide you in."

"Your subject, Xu Guangqi, receives the decree with gratitude." Xu Guangqi bowed again to accept the order.

Yet, having delivered the decree, the two young eunuchs did not move to leave; they merely stood there, smiling at him.

Xu Guangqi was blank for a moment, then suddenly understood.

He hurriedly fished a tael of broken silver from his sleeve and offered it, his face wearing an apologetic smile: "Thank you both, gentlemen, for making this trip. The weather has turned cold; please have a cup of hot tea on me."

Once the silver changed hands, the smiles on the two young eunuchs' faces instantly grew far more genuine.

The one on the left, having pocketed the silver, leaned slightly forward and lowered his voice to a whisper that only the two of them could hear: "Sir Xu, you are the very first person to have an audience with His Majesty tomorrow afternoon, and your interview time is also the longest."

"You, old sir, must seize this opportunity well."

After delivering these words, the two exchanged a smile, said no more, cupped their hands in salute, and turned to leave briskly.

Xu Guangqi stood alone where he was, murmuring to himself: "The longest interview time?"

In just a moment, he had figured out the implication, and an irrepressible smile spread across his face.

It must be that those policy essays he had submitted, that practical learning for ordering the state and benefiting the people, had moved His Majesty!

He sat back down before his desk, looking at the half-written "Memorial on the Office of Agricultural Supervision," and felt his literary thoughts surging forth like a spring, utterly unstoppable.

Afraid he might forget, Xu Guangqi hastily pulled over a sheet of blank paper and rapidly scribbled down several new titles:

"Memorial on Using Macao Barbarians to Pacify the Red Barbarians," "Memorial on Selecting and Appointing Instructors of Practical Learning," "Memorial on Promoting the Elements of Geometry," "Memorial on Western Hydraulic Methods and the Empire's Water Conservancy Construction"——

Having dashed off this list, Xu Guangqi could not help but chuckle to himself.

Your Majesty, the elegant essays this subject carries in his belly are far, far more than just these!

One shichen later, at the Cathedral beside the Xuanwu Gate.

Unlike the sweeping eaves and bracket sets of most buildings in the capital, this church bore a distinctly Western style, its towering cross standing out starkly against the twilight.

Inside, the evening prayers were already halfway through.

Father Niccolo Longobardo, head of the Society of Jesus in the China region, stood at the front, presiding over the service.

Dressed in vestments, he recited the scriptures fluently in slightly accented yet crisply enunciated Chinese. Seated below were several fellow missionaries from the Far West, but the greater number were local residents of the capital.

Unlike Western prayer, prayer in the eastern suburbs permitted one to keep one's hat on.

Among them were wealthy households in brocade, commoners in plain cloth, and even a few paupers in tattered rags, their faces etched with hardship.

Xu Guangqi hurried in through a side door. Without disturbing anyone, he quietly found an empty seat in a back row, sat down, bowed his head to make the sign of the cross, and silently joined the congregation in prayer.

A short while later, evening prayer concluded.

Father Longobardo raised his hand, traced the sign of the cross, and pronounced the closing words.

"May Almighty God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, bless us."

"Amen."

The congregation responded in unison, each tracing the sign of the cross over their chest.

The service ended, and the faithful gradually dispersed.

Only then did Longobardo stride quickly to the back rows. A warm smile on his face, he said to Xu Guangqi, "Brother Paul, you've come."

Xu Guangqi promptly rose and returned the greeting with cupped hands, apologizing, "Detained by official business today, I lost track of the hour and arrived a step late."

Longobardo waved a hand dismissively and regarded him kindly with his blue eyes. "The Lord loves mankind and never minds the earliness or lateness of the hour, so long as the heart is devout. Come, let us speak in the rear hall. A fellow believer has traveled a great distance today — you will never guess who."

So saying, he led Xu Guangqi through a side corridor toward the rear hall.

In a quiet room at the rear, seven or eight missionaries had already gathered. They were clustered around a table, discussing something in low voices.

Seeing Longobardo and Xu Guangqi enter, they rose one after another to offer greetings.

"Good to see you, Brother Paul."

Xu Guangqi's gaze swept across the group. Suddenly, his eyes lit with delighted surprise as they settled on one man. "Brother Johann? Has the Lord truly guided you back to the capital?"

The man he addressed as "Johann" was none other than Father Adam Schall, who had just returned from Shaanxi.

Adam Schall laughed heartily and stepped forward to give Xu Guangqi a warm embrace. "Superintendent Long wrote to say that His Majesty the Emperor of the Great Ming intends to build a grand 'Thousand-Li Electric-Light Platform' and urgently requires telescopes. As I am most versed in this art, I was ordered back."

"Indeed, indeed!" Xu Guangqi slapped his thigh in sudden realization. "It never even crossed my mind! When His Majesty needs telescopes, naturally it must be you! Brother Johann, your return could not be more timely! I shall go home tonight and transcribe a letter of recommendation. I happen to have an audience with His Majesty tomorrow, and I will present it in person to recommend you!"

At these words, the faces of every missionary in the room lit up with pleased surprise.

A glint of sharp interest flashed through Longobardo's eyes as well. He seized the moment to ask, "Brother Paul, for your audience with His Majesty tomorrow, is there anything we might assist with?"

Xu Guangqi waved a hand and smiled. "I had originally intended to ask whether a catalogue of the seven thousand Far Western books could be compiled and submitted first, so that I might memorialize the throne and request the establishment of a translation bureau. But as things stand, there truly is not enough time."

At this, he could not resist stroking his beard with a smile and adding, with a touch of pride, "I never imagined the queue for an imperial audience would move so swiftly. You must understand, men like Wen Tiren and Qian Qianyi are all still waiting behind. I never expected that I would be the first among the officials recalled from the Southern Directly Administered Area to be summoned."

Adam Schall asked, "Brother Paul, I have only just entered the capital and know nothing of this new Emperor's temperament. What is his disposition toward our Society? If His Majesty summons me to inquire about telescopes, is there anything requiring particular care?"

At this, Xu Guangqi's expression turned solemn. He cupped his hands in the direction of the imperial palace and said with gravity, "The moment His Majesty ascended the throne, he swept away the florid, insubstantial prose style and replaced it with official documents that are practical and statecraft-oriented."

"Though I have yet to receive his sacred instruction in person, observing every word and deed of his fifty days on the throne, he esteems solid learning above all and rejects metaphysics and idle discourse. Such conduct aligns precisely with the customs of our Society."

He paused, then continued, "As for his views on our faith, I know little in detail at present. However, during tomorrow's audience, should the opportunity arise, I will certainly sound things out on your behalf."

Father Nicolas Trigault, standing nearby, nodded and said, "Then we must trouble you, Brother Paul. I am already sorting that catalogue of seven thousand books you mentioned. I shall have them speed up the work and strive to deliver it to your residence within the week."

"Excellent, excellent!" Xu Guangqi said repeatedly, then rose. "I have already formed a plan in my mind. I shall return now and write the letter of recommendation through the night. Gentlemen, I shall not stay longer."

Father Johann Schreck quickly stood and said, "It is already dark; let me see you out."

The atmosphere in the quiet room underwent a subtle shift the moment Xu Guangqi departed. No one spoke. Only after Johann Schreck returned did Longobardo finally ask, "Gentlemen, what do you make of this?"

Adam Schall pondered for a moment, then said, "If this Emperor is truly as devoted to solid learning as Brother Paul says, then for our Society, this is indeed a once-in-a-millennium opportunity. Our teachings and his principles are all the more compatible."

Nicolas Trigault, however, furrowed his brow and raised a note of doubt. "But there is one thing that is very strange."

"I have heard that some days ago, the Emperor's Embroidered Uniform Guard retrieved the Illustrated Treatise on the Telescope from among the common people and is studying its construction."

"But that illustrated treatise, deliberately written so that the Ming people would have to rely on us, omitted the most crucial principles of natural philosophy."

"By all logic, if they could not build it, they would inevitably come seeking us. Yet to this day — there has been not the slightest stir from the court. I do not know why."

"It was precisely for this matter that I urgently ordered Johann back to the capital." Longobardo nodded, his expression grave. "This affair is indeed peculiar."

He looked around at the assembled men and said slowly, "But whatever the case, one thing is certain. Our Society's skill in arithmetic, geometry, and engineering far surpasses that of the Ming people. So long as this Emperor truly loves solid learning, he will inevitably need us. We do not fear being used — we fear not being used at all."

Nicolas Trigault asked further, "And what of the matter of the seven thousand books?"

Longobardo answered without the slightest hesitation. "For all works related to solid learning, the translation must proceed slowly — released bit by bit."

"We must make them feel at every moment that they need us. If they learn everything, we will be of no further use."

"It is the theological works, on the contrary, that we should translate more of. Those are the true foundation for saving their souls."

Nicolas Trigault nodded with tacit understanding. "I see."

Father Giacomo Rho, who had remained silent all this while, spoke up. "Gentlemen, we must understand that in this Great Ming, to spread the Lord's gospel, the Emperor comes first, the court ministers second, and the local gentry third. Only by persuading them can the mission proceed smoothly."

Hearing these words, Longobardo could not help but frown.

The missionary approach he had always believed in was the path of preaching among the common people.

But the occurrence of the Nanjing Incident had amply demonstrated the importance of the elite route in this country of the Great Ming.

He fell silent for a moment, and in the end did not voice any rebuttal. Instead, he nodded in agreement. "That is indeed the case."

But Longobardo immediately continued, "However, the name of God still requires further discussion."

He looked at the others and raised once more that long-disputed question within their ranks.

"When we introduce the Lord to the Ming people, which term should we use? A direct transliteration as 'Deus,' or should we borrow their native term 'Shangdi'?"

Longobardo himself was clearly of the opposition. "When the Ming people speak of 'Shangdi,' they refer to their own August Heavenly Emperor, which is not the same as our Lord. Such conflation, I fear, will invite charges of heresy."

Johann Schreck, however, held a different view. He countered, "But the word 'Deus' carries no meaning whatsoever for the Ming people."

"We are newcomers here and should go with the current. The term 'Shangdi' — they understand it, and they hold it in higher reverence."

"Necessary compromise is for the greater glory of the Lord. As for the distinctions, they can be gradually taught later."

Thus, a debate over theological terminology unfolded once more within that small quiet room.

In the end, they still failed to reach a consensus.

Niccolo Longobardo rubbed his temples wearily and decided to shelve the dispute for the time being: "On this matter, we must first consult those Ming officials who have embraced the faith. They may better grasp the crux of it."

"Let us wait a little longer. The converted officials from every province should, I think, nearly all have reached the capital by now.

"Once they have all assembled, we shall gather again and re-examine this question."

No one raised any objection; all nodded in unison.

The deliberations concluded, Niccolo Longobardo rose to his feet, and the others rose with him.

He bowed his head, traced the sign of the cross over his chest, and offered a final prayer for this night's meeting.

"May the light of the Lord pierce through this eastern fog and save these lost lambs. Amen."

"Amen!" the assembly responded in one voice.

Regarding the missionaries, Xu Guangqi, the pseudo-history theory, and so on — I will discuss these separately after you have finished reading Xu Guangqi's storyline.