Chapter 206: Shifting Steps, Shifting Scenes — Hidden Edges Beneath

The next day, after Xu Guangqi took up his post, he practically counted out the time in torment, unable even to concentrate on writing memorials.

When noon finally arrived, he hastily ate a couple of bites of pastry, then made a point of going home to change his clothes and perfume himself with incense.

Only then did he tuck his hands into his sleeves and, braving the cold wind, hurry toward the Gate of Accepting Heaven.

When he arrived, sure enough, two young eunuchs were already waiting.

They were not, however, the same two familiar faces from the day before.

Xu Guangqi thought nothing of it. He deftly fished out a sliver of silver worth about one tael from his cuff, put on a broad smile, and smoothly offered it over.

"Eunuchs, for your trouble — a little something for tea—"

But this offering might as well have been a hot potato.

The lead young eunuch's face changed color instantly. Not only did he not take it, he leapt backward like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, springing a full three feet away.

"Sir Xu! What are you doing!"

The young eunuch waved his hands in alarm, not daring even to glance at the silver. He even swept the surroundings with wary, sidelong looks, as if some man-eating monster lurked in the very air.

"The hour draws near — sir, please follow me at once!"

With that, the young eunuch turned and led the way without looking back, head down and feet flying, as though afraid that any slower and Xu Guangqi would forcibly stuff the silver into his hands.

Xu Guangqi stood frozen in the cold wind, the sliver of silver still held out.

He looked toward the other young eunuch, but saw him wave his hands just as frantically, then turn and hurry straight after the first.

Xu Guangqi stared at the two young eunuchs fleeing as if from disaster, utterly baffled and deeply puzzled.

What— hadn't they been actively soliciting bribes just yesterday?

Why had everything changed today?

Still, Xu Guangqi was, after all, a man long accustomed to pinching pennies.

He shook his head and carefully tucked the silver back into his sleeve.

Every bit saved was a bit earned.

His current salary had long been meticulously allocated: one part for his own daily needs, one part sent back to his hometown to support his wife, children, and elderly parents, and the largest remaining portion — all of it — was to be donated to the Church.

Every single copper coin had a concrete destination; being able to save any was always a good thing.

The party of three passed through gate after gate of the palace complex and soon arrived at the Western Park.

Just as they rounded a covered corridor, Xu Guangqi spotted a hall in the distance. Above it hung a brand-new horizontal plaque, inscribed in sweeping, vigorous strokes with three large characters: "Hall of Earnestness."

The brushwork was immature — clearly the imperial hand of His present Majesty.

Xu Guangqi halted, unable to resist pausing before the hall and looking up at this plaque he had heard so much about, his heart surging with emotion.

"The Hall of Earnestness — earnestness is good! Earnestness is good!"

He stroked his beard and sighed, his eyes growing faintly moist.

In the shambles that was the Great Ming today, was not this very quality of "earnestness" precisely what was lacking?

If every man performed his duties earnestly, without shirking or passing the buck, why should the dynasty not achieve a restoration?

Just as he was lost in reflection, the young eunuch who had been leading the way circled back and said with an apologetic smile, "Sir Xu, wrong place, wrong place — the meeting is not being held here."

"Ah?"

Xu Guangqi stared blankly, then turned to look.

In the distance, on the western side by the lake, in a secluded spot, stood an unremarkable little building.

At its doorway, the other young eunuch was waving frantically in this direction.

Xu Guangqi's old face flushed red with acute embarrassment. He hastily straightened his robes and hat and hurried over.

Only when he drew near did he realize this building, too, had only recently been renovated.

Above the lintel hung another horizontal plaque, likewise personally inscribed by His Majesty.

Xu Guangqi fixed his eyes on it and, without thinking, murmured aloud: "Academy Science Imperial Ming Great."

"Pfft—"

The young eunuch waiting there could not hold back a laugh, then immediately clapped a hand over his mouth and whispered, "Sir Xu, this plaque — it must be read from left to right."

Xu Guangqi froze, then mentally rearranged the characters.

— Great Ming Imperial Academy of Sciences!

Having blundered twice in succession, Xu Guangqi was now mortified beyond words.

Learned and widely read though he was, he had never in his life encountered such an eccentric way of reading.

He raised his clasped hands to cover his embarrassment and asked, "May I ask, Eunuch, why this plaque here differs from all others? This—"

"It does not conform to ritual propriety."

The young eunuch, being a loose-tongued sort, let slip: "His Majesty said, a new atmosphere calls for new rules. In the future, books, perhaps, will all—"

Halfway through, he suddenly realized he had been talking out of turn. He clamped his mouth shut at once and shot a frightened glance at his companion opposite, full of regret.

"Sir Xu, please go inside quickly and wait — His Majesty will arrive shortly."

With that, the two young eunuchs, as if afraid of catching something contagious, hastily saluted and withdrew.

Xu Guangqi was left standing alone, disheveled in the wind.

He raised his head and once again read the plaque's name aloud.

"Great Ming Imperial Academy of Sciences—"

"Great Ming" and "Imperial" — those were easy enough to understand.

"Academy" was also understandable; this little building was clearly no government office like the Censorate, but rather a place akin to an academy.

But these two characters, "sciences" — what did they mean?

Xu Guangqi's brow furrowed deeply as a thread of doubt stirred in his heart.

All his life, he had detested the useless eight-legged examination essays above all else, which was why, upon seeing His Majesty inaugurate a new style of statecraft-oriented prose, he had been so wild with joy.

But this "science" — surely it cannot mean "the study of the examination syllabus"?

If that were the case, for Your Majesty to personally establish such an institute devoted solely to studying how to sit the civil examinations — would that not be putting the cart before the horse?

Xu Guangqi, his mind full of misgivings, shook his head, reached out and pushed the door open, then stepped inside.

The moment he entered, Xu Guangqi froze where he stood.

He had imagined this might be a study, perhaps a tea room, or even an office piled high with memorials.

But never in his wildest dreams had he expected the scene that met his eyes!

In the center of the room stood an enormous screen.

It bore neither the landscapes, flowers and birds common in the palace, nor the various charts and diagrams he had grown accustomed to seeing these past few days.

It was a map encompassing the entire world — the Kunyu Wanguo Quantu, the Complete Map of the Myriad Nations of the Earth!

Xu Guangqi's heart jolted; his gaze then shifted to the left.

On a massive long table against the left wall, clocks and watches of every description were packed together in dense profusion.

Some were as large as standing cabinets, others as small as a palm.

Several exquisite chiming clocks had been dismantled into a scattered mess — gears, mainsprings, brass plates strewn across the floor, with all manner of pliers, files and other tools lying beside them.

Then he looked toward the middle of the room.

A small brass ball hung suspended in midair, with a weight dangling beneath it — a bizarre and puzzling contraption.

The right side of the room was even more chaotic, cluttered haphazardly with glass vessels, copper wire and lodestones, and a strange candle standing off to one side — utterly baffling at first glance.

And in the shadows at the far end, several iron lumps of varying sizes stood side by side, with buckets and charcoal braziers tossed carelessly nearby.

Xu Guangqi stared, utterly dumbfounded.

This is — this is an artisan's workshop?!

His eyes locked onto those dismantled clocks on the tabletop, his pupils contracting sharply.

Only one person comes here regularly — His Majesty.

Could it be that the reigning Son of Heaven is personally tinkering with these craftsman's pursuits?

In an instant, an instinctive dread — ingrained over long years and carved into the very marrow of every Confucian scholar-official — seized his heart in a death grip.

Clever tricks and frivolous contrivances!

Were it anyone else delving into these things, he, Xu Guangqi, might even praise it as the investigation of things and the extension of knowledge.

But this is the sovereign of the realm!

The weight of the Son of Heaven should rest upon ordering the state and bringing peace to the people, upon ruling with robes hanging down and hands folded!

If he becomes too obsessed with ingenious mechanisms and clever devices, to the point of working on them with his own hands — would this not be a reprise of the Tianqi era's old story?

Even if this would benefit the promotion of Western learning, even if it would aid the propagation of the Catholic faith —

Xu Guangqi is first a subject of the Great Ming, and only second a believer in the Lord of Heaven!

A roaring din filled his mind; he could not help but close his eyes in anguish and dismay.

The arts must not be left unexamined, but the sovereign must not be left without gravity!

A sage monarch has appeared before our eyes — how can he once again lose himself in such fabrication!

Before Xu Guangqi could even catch his breath —

Click.

A certain clock had reached its appointed hour.

Suddenly, a carved wooden cuckoo popped out from the clock and began calling, "Cuckoo, cuckoo."

Then, as if toppling a row of dominoes —

A moment later, another clock slowly opened its little door and displayed a scene of Christ's Passion.

Ding, dong, tick — one after another, the clocks rang their bells, played their tunes, or struck their brass chimes.

Though Xu Guangqi had long since encountered chiming clocks and was thoroughly familiar with their principles,

this was the first time in his life he had ever stood in the same room with dozens of them!

And the first time, in this enclosed chamber, he had experienced the simultaneous roar of scores of different mechanical voices!

That precise, cold, yet clamorous rhythm pounded against his eardrums until they buzzed.

Xu Guangqi stood rooted to the spot, at a complete loss, not knowing where to turn — he could only cover his ears by instinct, his face a picture of alarm.

Only when the long tolling of the hours had finally ceased and the room sank back into deathly silence

did he lower his trembling hands and let out a long breath.

The thoughts from moments before resurfaced in his mind.

— Well then: to remonstrate, or to remonstrate?

Xu Guangqi clenched his fist; in his heart, his decision was already made.

A short while later, in the warming chamber of the Hall of Earnest Reflection.

"Companion Gao, why didn't you wake me?"

Zhu Youjian, frowning in complaint, was hurriedly donning his everyday robes with the help of serving maids.

Gao Shiming stood to the side, body slightly bowed, and smiled. "Your Majesty was up until midnight last night conducting that — what was it, an experiment? This slave could not dissuade you. But letting Your Majesty sleep a little longer today — that, this slave could manage."

Zhu Youjian fastened his belt and strode briskly toward the door, still explaining as he went: "I have told you, this matter concerns the fate of the realm. Besides, it was only an occasional late night."

Gao Shiming followed close behind and replied, unhurried and unruffled: "In this slave's eyes, the greatest matter concerning the fate of the realm is Your Majesty's own health and well-being."

Zhu Youjian's steps faltered. He was left speechless, skewered by this perfectly correct piece of nonsense.

He rolled his eyes, said nothing more, and flew toward the Academy of Sciences as if his feet had sprouted wings.

Fortunately, the Academy was right beside the Western Park — only a few steps away.

Zhu Youjian crossed the threshold in a few great strides and spotted Xu Guangqi at once — squatting on the floor, trying to pull apart that "miniature Magdeburg hemisphere."

No — in this life, it should be called the Capital Hemisphere!

He let out a hearty laugh, his voice bright: "Minister Xu, I have come late!"

Xu Guangqi jolted sharply, as if startled from a dream. He hastily pulled his hand back from the iron sphere and turned to kneel in audience.

"This subject Xu Guangqi, kowtows in greeting——"

Zhu Youjian would never let him actually bow. He darted forward in a few strides, deploying his long-unused "Arm-Grasping Grand Technique," and caught Xu Guangqi by the elbow, lifting him up.

An SSR — he was worth such a gesture.

"My minister, no need for excessive ceremony. Let's dispense with empty formalities. Sit, sit."

Gao Shiming, ever quick-eyed, had already nimbly fetched two chairs from beside the large experiment tables.

The taller one, padded with a soft cushion, for His Majesty; the slightly shorter one for Xu Guangqi.

Once both were seated, Gao Shiming stood in attendance to the side.

Xu Guangqi steadied his emotions, cupped his hands slightly, and asked tentatively: "May I ask for what matter Your Majesty has summoned me today? Could it be concerning the farmland and water conservancy policy passed a few days ago?"

Zhu Youjian heard this, but shook his head with a smile: "No. Agriculture is indeed the foundation of the state, but the Secretariat and the committees can handle refining the details. I have sought you today not to discuss farming."

He extended his hand, gesturing at the room full of clocks, maps, and instruments, and fixed his burning gaze on Xu Guangqi.

"I have summoned you today precisely to inquire about the matters in this room."

Xu Guangqi's heart lurched — that ominous premonition grew heavier by a few degrees.

His Majesty truly has become addicted to this path!

Yet, before he could figure out how to tactfully remonstrate, he heard Zhu Youjian leisurely speak: "Minister Xu, most of the objects in this room come from the Far West. What is your view on them?"

Zhu Youjian smiled faintly, looking at this old man whose beard and hair were all white.

This Vice Minister of the Ministry of Rites, who had been in the capital barely ten-odd days and had already submitted eight successive memorials.

This pioneer whom later generations would honor as "the first man to open his eyes and see the world."

This same old man whom later generations would also accuse of handing the Yongle Encyclopedia to the West, even indirectly spurring the Western Industrial Revolution.

— They say the Yongle Encyclopedia even contained nuclear bombs. What a crime that would be!

Zhu Youjian inwardly chuckled, put away his jesting thoughts, and said seriously, his smile receding: "Or, let me ask more bluntly."

"At this moment, when the struggle between man and land grows ever fiercer, at this critical juncture in the millennia-long cycle of order and chaos in Huaxia —"

"Of what use are these Far Western objects and principles to the state? Of what use to the Great Ming?"

Xu Guangqi, hearing this, first started, then the great stone in his heart miraculously dropped to the ground.

So that was it!

So His Majesty was not indulging in trifles to the neglect of his purpose!

At first, he had thought this emperor was addicted to the craft of devices and had been preparing to remonstrate.

After all, an emperor could take an interest in Western learning, but he absolutely could not immerse himself in it like an artisan.

For the sovereign, in his supreme dignity, to summon a Vice Minister of the Ministry of Rites only to inquire about mechanical arts — that would be an omen of a dying dynasty!

But thank heaven!

This new sovereign was exactly as everything he had seen and heard since entering the capital had suggested — brilliant beyond measure, seeing through the world's affairs as clearly as watching a fire!

He was asking whether this "craft" could save this "world"!

Yet, after a brief moment of elation, Xu Guangqi grew solemn again, as if pushed to the edge of a cliff.

A brilliant new sovereign — this was a blessing for the altars of state.

But brilliant men often think too highly of themselves; once they make up their minds, it is nearly impossible to change them.

If his answer today contained the slightest error, it would not only be Xu Guangqi's personal honor or disgrace at stake — it would likely bring upon the various arts of the Far West, and even the great enterprise of Catholic evangelism in the Great Ming, a setback far more severe than any before.

This was an interview.

One that would, to a certain degree, determine the future direction of the Great Ming.

However——

Xu Guangqi drew a deep breath, and a resolute light shone through his murky eyes.

Ever since the twenty-first year of Wanli, when he first met the Far Western missionary Lazzaro Cattaneo in Shaozhou, Guangdong, he had been pondering this question for a full thirty-two years!

Thirty-two years!

How many thirty-two years does a man's life hold!

As his understanding of Catholicism and Far Western science deepened day by day, and as the Great Ming's situation deteriorated day by day, his reflections on this question had long since penetrated to the marrow of his bones.

At this moment, he had a well-formed plan in his breast!

Xu Guangqi immediately rose, performed a deep bow to the ground, and declared in a ringing voice: "Your Majesty! This subject begs leave to expound for Your Majesty the advantages and disadvantages of the Far West!"

Zhu Youjian, seeing this, laughed heartily and waved his hand: "Minister Xu, do not be nervous. Today we sit and discourse on the Dao. Sit, sit and speak."

An awkward smile flickered across Xu Guangqi's face. The momentum he had just mustered — that spirit of "though I face ten thousand men, I shall go forth" — was, with this interruption, instantly deflated by a few degrees.

He sat back down, organized his thoughts, and began: "This subject believes that, when enumerated in detail, the advantages and disadvantages therein amount to three advantages and two disadvantages."

"The first advantage is——"

"Hold."

Zhu Youjian suddenly raised his hand, interrupting him again.

Xu Guangqi froze, staring blankly at the emperor.

He saw that although the smile on Zhu Youjian's face remained as genial as ever, those eyes held no mirth at all.

"Let us not speak of advantages first."

Zhu Youjian leaned forward slightly, like a tiger that had locked onto its prey, and said softly: "Minister Xu, tell me first — what are the disadvantages therein."

When it came to understanding science and religion, Zhu Youjian likely grasped them more deeply than the vast majority of people in this era.

After the first phase of the interview — in which Zhu Youjian's primary objectives had been maintaining stability, gauging hearts and minds, personnel assessment, and intelligence gathering — had drawn to a temporary close.

The reason Xu Guangqi could follow closely behind and be summoned at this critical juncture

was not by virtue of those few memorials of his on basic farmland irrigation or military preparedness.

Still less was it due to any so-called insight from "opening one's eyes to the world."

In Zhu Youjian's eyes, such insight served more as a tool to break his own "curse of knowledge"—background reference to help him better perform "surgery" on this era.

What he truly cared about was this man Xu Guangqi himself—

Where exactly does his allegiance lie?!

The realm's talents are as numerous as carp swimming upstream; the first Director of the Great Ming Imperial Academy of Sciences did not have to be him, Xu Guangqi.

In the list of late-Ming "scholar-scientists" that Gao Shiming had compiled alone, there were plenty of men who "never joined the faith yet studied Western learning."

Fang Kongzhao, for instance, or Xiong Mingyu—these were all typical examples.

And even if such men were temporarily unavailable, he, Zhu Youjian, could cultivate talent from the ground up!

That group of youths from the Front Guard of the Palace Army were already arriving in the capital one after another.

As for the corresponding "modern textbooks," he was racking his brains, trying to compile into volumes whatever he could still recall from the fruits of his nine-year compulsory education.

He might have forgotten many of the advanced physics formulas from his past life, but the basic framework, that simple scientific worldview, that methodology of logical thinking—how could he possibly forget those?

What was more, such cultivation did not even need to start entirely with adolescents.

The Western missionaries had managed to sway so many late-Ming literati with their half-baked science and technology.

Did he, Zhu Youjian, not possess true "divine arts" of his own?

What a joke!

Do they know what "odd changes, even unchanged—check the quadrant for the sign" means?!

Do they know what electromagnetic induction is? What atmospheric pressure is?!

Every man who could pass the jinshi examination—was he not a genius whose intellect towered above the masses in this age?

Once the cage of their thinking is broken open, is it really so hard for them to study these rudimentary scientific theories?!

Is this not just the adult college entrance exam of later ages!

No matter what, Zhu Youjian would absolutely never entrust the heavy responsibility of promoting "science" unreservedly and with full confidence to a man who deeply and sincerely believed in Catholicism!

Great Ming's science and the West's religion must, from the very start, be cleaved apart with absolute clarity and unmistakable distinction!

The importance he placed on science must not, by association, carry Catholicism aloft with it!

Otherwise, even if he saved this Great Ming, he would want to slap himself hard across the face from beneath the Nine Springs.

Zhu Youjian fixed his gaze on Xu Guangqi's somewhat startled eyes and said coldly in his heart:

Come, then, Xu Guangqi.

Let Us see—where exactly does your allegiance lie!