Chapter 210: The Scientific Achievements of Zhu Youjian, Humanities Student

Zhu Youjian stood with his hands clasped behind his back, watching Xu Guangqi walk haltingly away until he gradually vanished down the small lane.

The old man's retreating figure, in this moment, looked as bleak and desolate as the withered trees of this late autumn.

Zhu Youjian remained silent for a long while, only slowly withdrawing his gaze once that figure had completely disappeared. He turned his head to look at Gao Shiming beside him, his tone carrying a rare melancholy: "Companion Gao, has your sovereign been too cruel?"

To take an old man's lifelong faith, crush it to pieces and spread them out before his eyes, then tell him it is crawling with vermin — this does indeed border on torture.

Gao Shiming gently shook his head, disagreeing: "Your Majesty, for a true Confucian scholar, to hear the Dao in the morning and die in the evening is enough."

"Who can say that a sharp blow to awaken the mind is cruelty?"

"To cling stubbornly to the wrong path and never realize it until the end of one's days — that is true cruelty."

Zhu Youjian gave a slight nod. Though these words carried a hint of consolation, the reasoning was sound.

Not bad. He felt his conscience had crawled a little further up the moral high ground.

But Gao Shiming hesitated a moment, then cautiously asked, "Your Majesty has suppressed the Catholic faith — does this mean you will next move to extinguish Buddhism and curb Daoism?"

Zhu Youjian was taken aback, then laughed in spite of himself: "Companion Gao, what makes you say that?"

Gao Shiming said gravely, "Your Majesty's final words — that the land of China needs no savior — seem analogous to Yu the Great taming the floodwaters and Hou Yi shooting down the suns."

"Moreover, the disciples of both Buddhism and Daoism engage in no productive labor and pay no land taxes."

"In the grand scheme of the 'struggle between man and land' that Your Majesty spoke of, not only do they offer no benefit, they are a positive hindrance."

"Thus, throughout the dynasties, there have always been instances of suppressing Buddhism and proscribing Daoism on these very grounds."

"As the chief overseer of the Secretariat, I handle all manner of statecraft documents — how could none of them have raised this matter?"

"And as one who cultivates the Dao myself, how could I never have pondered this question?"

Zhu Youjian raised an eyebrow. He did not answer directly, but asked in return: "In your view, what should be done?"

Gao Shiming cupped his hands, his expression solemn: "This subject believes this matter calls for gradual action, not haste. We should shatter the outward forms of Buddhism and Daoism, but not shatter the Buddhism and Daoism within men's hearts."

"Seize their people and their land to supplement the state revenues; preserve their teachings and their Way to supplement the hearts of the people."

"If we press too urgently, I fear the realm will descend into chaos."

A flash of admiration crossed Zhu Youjian's eyes. He reached out and patted Gao Shiming on the shoulder: "Companion Gao, your words today could match those of the famed ministers of old."

"Rest assured, your sovereign is not so naive, nor so impatient."

He turned around, gazing at the jumbled assortment of objects within the Academy of Sciences, and his tone grew deep and distant: "The Buddhism and Daoism of today are no longer the colossal forces that could sway the court as they did in the Tang and Song."

"Of the many abbots and Celestial Masters, some cultivate in seclusion, some merely amass wealth — precious few can truly edify the hearts of men."

"My targeting of the Catholic faith is not out of aversion to its matters of spirits and deities."

"It is because it entered the Central Plains as a foreign creed. Though it has donned Confucian robes, it remains entangled with the Far West by unbroken threads."

"This Catholic faith is the Catholic faith of the Far West; it has not transformed into a Catholic faith of our China."

"Many of its regulations and doctrines, which now seem to make concessions in the course of proselytizing, are in the end nothing but temporary concealment."

"Minister Xu has truly regarded this matter far too lightly."

"Without reform imposed by sovereign power, without a century of gradual transformation, this Catholic faith will never truly change."

Having said this, Zhu Youjian paused, then continued: "If the Celestial Master Patriarch of Dragon Tiger Mountain issued a single command, could he make a minister of the court's great ministries cast aside his seal of office and depart?"

"Never mind that — whether the Celestial Master Patriarch himself even possesses such prestige is something he himself probably dares not even imagine."

"But this Catholic faith, in Europa, has not been above doing precisely such things."

Zhu Youjian shook his head and offered no further explanation.

The matter of religion, if expanded upon, touches upon religious sovereignty, organizational structures, the struggle for cultural dominance between East and West, and a whole host of other troublesome issues.

Even in later ages when science and technology were highly advanced, these matters remained tangled and unclear — how much more so at present.

What was more, the Catholic faith on Chinese soil right now could not even be considered an infant; at best it was a fertilized egg. Apply a little heat, and it would perish on its own.

Were it not for the sake of Xu Guangqi's standing, the Catholic faith as it currently existed was truly unworthy of his expending so many words.

After all, this was a figure he had learned about in the history textbooks of later generations!

In spending so many words today, was it not precisely a case of loving deeply, and therefore reproaching sternly?

If one wishes to believe in the Catholic faith, one may do so — after first gaining a thorough understanding of the entire history of the Far West, the present state of its various nations, and the doctrines of both the old and new sects. There would be no harm in waiting until then.

Why trap oneself in the present fragmentary and blinkered version of the doctrine?

In Zhu Youjian's heart, some of his emotions were anger; others were that particular regret one feels in later ages upon seeing a lonely old person swindled by telecom fraud.

Had it been Hong Chengchou, Zhu Youjian would not have bothered to say so much.

He was now at the beginning of his new policies, with the future still uncertain. Therefore, anyone with talent, regardless of his personal likes or dislikes, would be employed.

The imperative was to first copy down the answers that had been preliminarily verified in the history books.

Once he had firmly grasped the reins of power and the nation was stable, officials with such "blemished prior records" would have to exert far greater effort than their normal peers to earn promotion.

Even if they remained utterly unaware of where their "prior records" lay.

Having single-handedly turned the tide and saved the Chinese nation, could this realm not accommodate a few small personal preferences of his?

Zhu Youjian's heart was perfectly clear on this; he was merely making a temporary compromise for the sake of the present situation.

Zhu Youjian shook his head and said, "Come, let us go deal with the surprise your sovereign has prepared for Minister Xu."

He sighed and stepped into the room piled high with "ingenious but useless contrivances."

"A pity — not a single one of these surprises was put to use today."

Within the Academy of Sciences, there were at present no masters, no doctors, and still less any academicians.

There was only a heap of prototype machines that Zhu Youjian had ordered craftsmen to hurriedly construct, or ingenious mechanical creations gathered from various places.

On the long table to the left, an array of clocks and timepieces of every description was laid out.

The largest were the size of cabinets; the smallest no bigger than a palm.

The most conspicuous among them was the great self-chiming clock that Matteo Ricci had presented as tribute during the Wanli era.

On the hour, every hour, bells would ring and birds would chirp as it automatically performed a set of movements depicting the "Passion of Christ" — exquisitely intricate beyond compare.

Zhu Youjian looked at the pile of clocks and watches and gave a cold inward laugh.

This was one of the Catholic Church's methods for spreading the faith these days.

After Martin Luther's Protestant Reformation, Catholicism itself had also entered a period of vigorous growth.

This was the principle that running water never stagnates and a door-hinge never gets worm-eaten.

Anything needs competition to develop — religion is no different.

Over the past century, although the Church suppressed heliocentrism and the theory of a moving earth, it had in fact also carried out all sorts of improvements and reforms.

Take these clocks, for example: plainly a product of science, yet they were also used as key evidence to demonstrate the existence of God.

This was — the Watchmaker Creator theory!

What did it mean?

A creation like a clock, so nearly precise, interlocking part with part, running on its own once set in motion — how could such a thing come into being naturally?

Behind it, there must be a master craftsman who designed it with meticulous care!

By the same reasoning, how could the entire order of heaven and earth, all human beings and animals, have simply grown up naturally?

Behind such an exquisitely crafted universe, there must exist an ultimate Watchmaker who created heaven and earth and harmonizes all things!

And this Watchmaker is none other than the all-powerful, all-knowing God!

Thus, in this age, when missionaries went to what they saw as barbarian lands to preach, they brought either cannon and musket, or this very device — the clock.

When Zhu Youjian was leafing through Catholic missionary books and came upon this theory, he was utterly shaken.

Only then did he truly understand why Catholicism in its present form held such powerful appeal even for conservative Confucian literati.

Were they merely spreading the Gospel of God?

They were plainly theologizing science as well, layering it on top and making it part of theology itself!

So long as it was not a theory like heliocentrism that completely overturned the biblical narrative —

the more all other scientific advances appeared, the more they served, within that theoretical framework, to prove that God mysteriously existed in this world!

No wonder that, historically, after Newton produced his three laws, he ended up with "God as the First Mover"!

So that is where it all began!

A thug is not frightening; what is frightening is a thug with learning!

This was also why Zhu Youjian was determined to cut Catholicism away from science.

For no other reason than that he absolutely did not want Catholicism to ride the wave of science's popularity.

Even if, constrained by the times, there had to be a prime mover, then it must be the Jade Emperor and the Queen Mother of the West!

If that wouldn't do, letting Gonggong do it would be fine too.

Who was short a god to give the earth a push?

Only your Catholic Church could do it?

Zhu Youjian sneered inwardly and instructed Gao Shiming, "Tell Xue Fengxiang that We approve the memorial he submitted, the 'Memorial Requesting the Purging of Supernumerary Posts in the Wensi Institute.'"

"But this matter is not settled merely by cutting personnel — the use of men is also crucial."

"Have him reorganize and clean up the Wensi Institute as quickly as possible; We will have great use for it later."

The so-called Wensi Institute, subordinate to the Ministry of Works, was dedicated to making gold and silver jewelry and vessels for the imperial household — roughly equivalent to a royally purveyed version of Chow Tai Fook.

Xue Fengxiang's original intent in submitting the memorial was simply to follow the current court trend of cutting superfluous personnel and, riding that wave, purge the Wensi Institute of those who had been granted posts indiscriminately.

According to his memorial, the Wensi Institute originally had seven hundred and fifty-two personnel, but had now ballooned to five thousand two hundred and eighty-eight.

A great many of them were idlers who had gotten in during the Wei Zhongxian period, either through indiscriminate bestowal or by bribing their way onto the roster.

This was not an isolated case.

The Court of State Ceremonial had a similar situation, where the salaried ushers had increased from one hundred and seventy-three to five hundred and twenty-seven.

The same was true of the Court of Imperial Entertainments — stuffed to the rafters with rats feeding on the imperial grain.

In short, after Tian Ergeng of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, in a show of loyalty, took the knife to his own guard and cut it down,

this "political achievement project" — simple, easy to execute, and a way to draw a clear line against Wei Zhongxian — caught the eye of many offices.

One after another, people launched a wave of purging Wei Zhongxian's indiscriminate appointments, each afraid of being left behind.

Xue Fengxiang's speed in acting was, if anything, among the slowest.

According to the Directorate of Ceremonial's consolidated tally, this round of layoffs across all agencies would save the state treasury twenty-eight thousand eight hundred taels of silver and three hundred and seventy thousand shi of stipend rice annually.

— As for what the dismissed men would go and do?

People who could afford to bribe their way into office — Zhu Youjian did not care what they went and did!

These were not strapping Shaanxi men; there was really nothing to fear in cutting them.

But, setting aside all the agencies mentioned above, the fact that Zhu Youjian singled out the Wensi Institute naturally had a deeper purpose.

He knew very well that in the early development of science, theory, in a certain sense, was perhaps not so critical; the skill of master craftsmen carried proportionally greater weight.

And he intended to use the Wensi Institute as the starting thread, gathering all the realm's skilled artisans under one roof, to serve as the engine of this Great Ming scientific and technological reform.

Zhu Youjian looked at Gao Shiming and said in a deep voice, "Transfer Qi Changguo from the Embroidered Uniform Guard over to superintend the Wensi Institute."

"Also have him devise a method of graded periodic examinations, sorting the craftsmen into separate categories such as iron-smelting, cannon, glass, clocks, and so on."

"Then, according to ability, define each grade distinctly and pay them by grade."

The management of craftsmen in this era was hard to say whether it was backward or advanced.

On the one hand, unlike the Qin and Han periods, craftsmen lacked a detailed system of evaluation and promotion.

But on the other hand, so long as the Emperor took a liking to someone and trusted him, the ceiling for promotion was terrifyingly high!

In the early Xuande years, the stonemason Lu Xiang rose to Vice Minister of the Ministry of Works of the left.

In the Zhengtong years, the carpenter Kuai Xiang rose to Vice Minister of the Ministry of Works of the left.

In the Jiajing years, the carpenter Xu Gao was appointed Minister of the Ministry of Works — a case that could truly be called unprecedented in history.

And yet—

How had they all distinguished themselves?

Every single one of them had risen by building palaces.

Spare me. We have already moved to the Western Park; We truly have little interest in renovating this palace.

You would do better to build Us firelocks, cannon, and steam engines.

Do it well, and never mind Minister of Works — who says the Grand Secretariat is beyond reach? And what of duke, marquis, or count?

At this, Gao Shiming fell silent a moment, then asked, still embarrassed, "Your Majesty, this subject ventures to ask — who is this Qi Changguo?"

Secretary Gao recited the roster of officials daily, yet for the life of him he could not recall anyone named Qi Changguo.

Zhu Youjian said, surprised, "Is the Ministry of Rites not deliberating a noble title for Qi Shaobao? Have you not followed it?"

Gao Shiming's old face reddened. Embarrassed, he said, "So it is Qi Shaobao's son. This subject only saw that Qi Shaobao was granted a hereditary marquisate and read no further; I did not realize it was this son who inherited the title."

Zhu Youjian shook his head. "The one who inherited the title is not Qi Changguo, but his elder brother Qi Zuoguo. This Qi Changguo is the one who improved the telescope and took three hundred taels of reward silver from Us — that is why We remember him."

Gao Shiming, wrong once and wrong again, was instantly mortified beyond words.

Zhu Youjian laughed. "Do not trouble yourself over it. Keep your energy on the Secretariat and the committees."

"To Us, that office is the critical point. Men of science and craftsmen are, after all, a long-term matter — not so urgent yet."

Gao Shiming's face betrayed nothing; he merely nodded. "By Your Majesty's gracious kindness, this subject has noted it. I shall arrange the matter of Qi Changguo and the Wensi Institute as soon as I return."

As if he could not care!

Gao Shiming had already resolved to go back and thoroughly cram the gaps in his knowledge.

For the sovereign to ask and him not to know — that was a lapse Gao Shiming could not tolerate!

Zhu Youjian nodded slightly, then gestured toward the clocks still ticking and chiming on the desk beside them, and instructed, "These clocks have been running for many days now. Pick out the ones that keep time most accurately, or whose mechanisms are the most compact, and trace them back to their original craftsmen. Summon them all to the capital."

"After they arrive, let them still open their clock shops. Handle all matters — land deeds, settlement, and the like — and help them settle everything. Do not let them have any worries left behind."

"Those clockmakers of outstanding skill among them, have them enter the Wensi Institute for grading and examination."

Gao Shiming bowed. "This slave understands. These past days, the young eunuchs of the Directorate of Ceremonial have been keeping statistics on the accuracy of each clock. The best ones, for the most part, still come from the Southern Metropolitan Region, Fujian, and Guangdong."

"From the time these men enter the capital until they are settled, it may take several months. This subject will handle it as quickly as possible."

At this, Gao Shiming paused, then added, "As for the personnel dispatched out of the capital, this slave will also coordinate with Tian Ergeng. We shall do our utmost to select men of clean hands — no harassing the localities, no sullying His Majesty's name."

Zhu Youjian gave an assenting murmur, his gaze sweeping over the dazzling array of clocks before him.

These clocks had been collected fifteen days ago from shops in the capital and from the residences of various nobles and high officials.

They ranged from large to small, of every sort and style.

The smallest among them, a pocket watch, was so exquisitely wrought that it was virtually indistinguishable from those the missionaries had presented as tribute.

And on the tabletop, those several clocks that had been dismantled into a scattered mess of parts and loose components — those were the personal "masterpieces" of the Yongchang Emperor himself.

His original intent had been to see what difference there was between the clocks of this era and the alarm clocks he had taken apart as a child in later ages.

Perhaps he might even, drawing on his knowledge from the future, offer a bit of guidance and overawe the craftsmen.

In the end, once opened, they were all the same — gears, mainsprings. He could not spot a single difference, though he did spot the commonality.

Namely, that whether ancient or modern, Chinese or foreign, once a clock is taken apart, it can never be put back together again—

Leaving him with no choice but to sheepishly abandon his attempt at technical guidance and honestly play the part of an emperor who issued orders.

As for the specific purpose of summoning the finest clockmakers to the capital, it lay mainly on two levels.

The first was to spread clocks throughout the capital, further refining the temporal granularity of the Great Ming's beast-of-burden labor force.

A double-hour?

No. Henceforth, work was to be planned on the level of the minute.

The other aspect was Zhu Youjian's intuitive sense that this capacity for "extreme precision processing" ought to play a better role in scientific experimentation.

Was it for building more accurate clocks?

Or for building microscopes?

Or perhaps for building machine tools?

Zhu Youjian, a pure humanities student, had no certainty at all about which of these were feasible and which were not.

Nor could he teach them how to build any of it, step by step.

He was merely striving to do one thing:

To gather the Great Ming's finest craftsmen, its most brilliant scientific scholars, and its richest resources, and concentrate them all in the capital.

Like piling all the dry firewood together, and then tossing in a single spark.

As for what fire would ultimately burst forth — that could only be left to time to verify.

Zhu Youjian stepped past the clock table and came to the center of the room.

Here hung an enormous stand, and suspended beneath the stand were two iron hemispheres fitted together.

This was the "Magdeburg hemispheres" that Zhu Youjian had ordered the craftsmen to make.

Of course, in this era, he would call them the "Capital Hemispheres."

The thing had, unexpectedly, proved easier to make than he had imagined. The craftsmen cut two grooves into the hemispheres, got some silk and hemp, soaked them in oil and padded them in between, and that solved the airtightness problem.

Then they borrowed the structure of a bellows, added a small movable mechanism, and produced a pump capable of drawing water out.

This counted as the smoothest of all his many chaotic attempts.

He had initially worried that without rubber, the thing could not be made at all.

Zhu Youjian instinctively reached out a hand, wanting to tug at the heavy loading hook suspended below, to see whether, after hanging for two days, it still held firm, and to verify the airtightness.

"Your Majesty, you must not!"

A cry of alarm rang out abruptly.

Gao Shiming, horrified, seemed almost to explode with astonishing speed, lunging across in a single bound.

The force was too strong, and his slightly portly frame barreled straight into him, nearly knocking Zhu Youjian off balance.

Gao Shiming had no time to apologize; he turned his head and said urgently, "Your Majesty, why must you do such a thing yourself!"

His treating this as a grave crisis was not without reason.

A few days earlier, the strange sphere His Majesty had commissioned had finally been completed.

Following His Majesty's method, they filled it with water, then pumped it dry, and had several powerfully built young eunuchs pull with all their might — it took the strength of nine bulls and two tigers to wrench it apart.

The moment it came apart, it produced a thunderous, violent report, like a sudden clap of thunder from clear ground.

At the time, Gao Shiming had been scared out of his wits; he threw himself in front of Zhu Youjian and shielded him behind his back.

The memory of that scene still made his heart pound with lingering fear.

And now His Majesty actually dared to tug at it with his own hands — how could he not be worried?

Zhu Youjian steadied himself, and looking at the cold sweat covering Gao Shiming's forehead, he could not decide whether to laugh or cry. "That booklet I wrote, On Atmospheric Pressure — did I not give it to you to read?"

"Did you not swear up and down at the time that you understood it? You even cited the example of an empty wineskin collapsing in on itself as supporting evidence."

"This thing is caused by air pressure, not gunpowder. It will not explode and injure anyone. Why be so excessively cautious?"

Gao Shiming, however, kept his face taut and said with stern formality, "One cannot be too careful! A gentleman does not stand beneath a crumbling wall. Your Majesty's person is worth ten thousand in gold — from now on, never be so reckless again."

Looking at his Companion's posture of "I will not move until you agree," Zhu Youjian shook his head helplessly. "Fine, fine. I shall not tug at it anymore."

He stepped back half a pace and pointed at the copper sphere. "Take that booklet on Atmospheric Pressure, organize it, break it down step by step, and first model it on my Daily Lecture to create a column called 'Inquiries into Science.' Publish it in the next issue of the Great Ming Times."

"First build up the momentum. Let them wonder what science is, and why an emptied wineskin collapses."

"After revealing it bit by bit, set a date to conduct a true 'Capital Hemispheres' experiment."

"Then hurry it along — have the craftsmen build an even larger one to test, the kind that requires sixteen horses to pull apart."

Seeing Gao Shiming about to open his mouth again, Zhu Youjian hastily raised his hand and vowed, "When the time comes, I shall certainly watch from a distance and absolutely never do it myself again!"

Only then did Gao Shiming straighten up and let out a long breath, though he still positioned himself, intentionally or not, between the iron sphere and Zhu Youjian. He bowed and said, "Very well. This subject shall arrange it."

Zhu Youjian paid no mind to his little precaution and instead pointed at the desk on the far right.

On it lay a candle, calipers, assorted lenses, and a sheet of paper held in a clamp.

"You also saw the lens experiment I conducted yesterday. Find someone to take over and continue the subsequent experiments."

"Summarize the method for measuring focal length, and the laws governing object distance and image distance. Write up a booklet and submit it for me to review."

"If there are no problems, deliver it to Qi Changguo and have him use it to further improve the far-seeing glass."

At this, Zhu Youjian gave a cold snort. "What nonsense about having to examine the curvature of the two lenses, how they must match, what the proportions must be — that all of this must be taught face to face, that the mysteries within can only be grasped by intuition and not conveyed in words."

"It is plainly these missionaries being evasive, hoarding their knowledge as a rare commodity, trying to string Great Ming along with these scraps."

This was Zhu Youjian's nine-years-of-compulsory-education fury.

The development of the far-seeing glass had never been stable.

Sometimes they could produce lenses that could observe objects thirty li away; other times, only lenses that could observe objects ten li away.

The far-seeing glasses issued to the signal stations were already the best of the best, selected with the utmost care, yet a great many lookouts still had to make do with mediocre-quality far-seeing glasses.

This severely constrained the rapid expansion of the signal stations.

It caused the average distance between stations to remain stuck at around twenty li, unable to increase any further.

The transmission efficiency and overall cost of the entire signal-station network were deeply affected.

Zhu Youjian had initially thought it might be some problem with Ming craftsmanship.

But during a routine report, Tian Ergeng submitted that the Explanatory Illustrations of Distant Views authored by the Western missionaries lacked crucial details, and requested permission for the missionaries to assist in improving the far-seeing glass.

It was then that Zhu Youjian discovered the trap the missionaries had laid in the Explanatory Illustrations of Distant Views.

Fortunately, he still remembered the convex-lens and concave-lens experiments from later ages, and the required conditions were exceedingly simple.

He assembled a lens, a candle, a sheet of white paper, and a wooden ruler on the spot, and immediately reconstructed the entire experiment.

(Attached is an illustration to help everyone recall — haha. Many science experiments truly have very simple prerequisites; even a humanities student can manage them.)

Gao Shiming also smiled and chimed in, "It is just as Your Majesty says: science is science, and the Catholic faith is the Catholic faith."

"Once you split them apart and strip away that layer of mystical mumbo-jumbo, this teaching of the Far West is really nothing remarkable."

Zhu Youjian nodded slightly, his expression turning serious again. He instructed in a deep voice, "Have the Court of Colonial Affairs dispatch a document as soon as possible to take custody and safeguard those seven thousand Western-language books of the Catholic mission. Then have that Niccolo Longobardo submit a catalogue of the titles without delay."

Here he paused, and his tone carried a hint of imperiousness. "It matters little if he refuses to hand it over. So long as those seven thousand books are in my hands, that is enough."

"Additionally, the recruitment of interpreters for the Hollanders and for the Hispania barbarians in the South Sea must be expedited along the coast."

"The matter of translation and interpretation is the ears, eyes, mouth, and tongue of the state. We cannot rely on these foreign missionaries for everything."

If they were to obstruct things from within, would I not become blind and deaf?"

Gao Shiming cupped his hands and replied, "Your Majesty may rest assured. His Excellency Hong is already pressing ahead with the matter."

"The Secretariat has already selected two young officials, natives of Fujian and Guangdong, whose families have maritime trade connections and who are fairly familiar with Western customs, to go there in person."

"They will certainly recruit interpreters proficient in this field, both Ming subjects and foreigners, each in some number."

Zhu Youjian nodded, a look of satisfaction appearing on his face. "Minister Xu once wrote in his book: 'To seek transcendence, one must first achieve convergence; before convergence, one must first translate.' These words are partially correct."

"To understand the various barbarians of the West, and to promote science, this matter of translation is indeed of paramount importance in the early stages."

He looked at Gao Shiming, reached out, and patted his Companion heavily on the shoulder, speaking with earnest gravity. "Companion Gao, I know you are still muttering to yourself in your heart, thinking that I am merely toying with clever tricks and frivolous crafts."

"You may not quite believe it yet, but just watch in the days to come."

"What I am doing is not squandering my spirit on playthings, but pointing straight to the fundamental Great Way — it is the key to resolving the conflict between man and land, and to prolonging the national fortune of Great Ming!"

Gao Shiming nodded, then shook his head, smiling without a word.

He nodded because he naturally had boundless faith in His Majesty; even if His Majesty said the sun was square, he would believe it.

He shook his head because those things His Majesty occasionally mentioned in ordinary times — great flying ships and galloping iron horses — sounded far too fantastical when heard, like myths and legends.

But no matter what, whatever His Majesty said, he would simply do.

After all, how could his own meager talents ever compare to those of this sovereign?

As Zhu Youjian spoke, his gaze inadvertently swept over the few black lumps huddled in the corner of the great hall, and his originally soaring spirits stalled at once.

Those were the small "steam engine prototypes" he had ordered the palace blacksmiths to build based on his vague descriptions.

After half a month of frantic, rushed work, the craftsmen had ultimately produced a bizarre contraption.

The principle was crude and direct: boil water, produce steam, and then let the steam push the lid on top upward, driving a mechanism into motion.

And how did the lid come back down?

That relied on another linked mechanism that closed the exhaust vent at fixed intervals; once the lid lost the steam's support, it would fall back down naturally.

This thing chugged and wheezed for an hour, consumed a heap of coal, and in the end only managed to lift a single vat of water from the lake outside——

Zhu Youjian naturally felt something was off, but even after racking his brains, he could not figure out exactly what was wrong.

Wasn't the steam engine just about boiling water? Didn't Watt invent it just by watching a kettle lid bounce?

But why was this Yongchang-era steam engine's lid-lifting power so pathetically weak——

Mother of— what in blazes was the problem!

The Yongchang Emperor of the Great Ming, Zhu Youjian, could not help but roar in frustration inside his heart — a roar that belonged exclusively to a liberal arts student.

He let out a long sigh and waved his hand with flagging interest. "Take these big black lumps away. Just looking at them irritates me."

"A real steam engine is absolutely nothing like this."

"Have the craftsmen think again, and properly ponder the two terms I mentioned — 'cylinder' and 'piston.'"

"Tell them that the one thousand taels of silver I offered as a reward is still sitting there, but it is definitely not meant for this kind of idiotic machine."

Gao Shiming stifled a laugh and nodded in assent.

Having finished giving instructions on all these matters of scientific and technological advancement, Zhu Youjian cast one last look at this academy, so full of both hope and frustration, then turned and said, "Let us go. Back to the Hall of Earnest Reflection first."

"Let me go meet the next interviewee."

The story now splits in two.

Over on one side, Zhu Youjian had handed down a pile of tasks and once again threw himself diligently into conducting interviews.

According to the schedule, he should by now have reached Bi Maokang.

Yes — that Bi Maokang, the one who supposedly invented the flintlock!

But over at the Ministry of Rites, someone was having a thoroughly miserable time.

Inside the duty room, Xu Guangqi had already spent half the day staring blankly out the window.

He held the purple-tipped writing brush in his hand, its tip suspended in midair, the ink long since dried.

On the desk, the half-written "Memorial on the Bureau of Agriculture" was dotted with several beads of ink, yet he paid them no mind at all.

The many arguments His Majesty had made today were profoundly shaking the faith he had upheld for decades.

Protestantism——?

Indulgences——?

That just as the Great Ming had its problems, so too did Europa, and so too did the Catholic Church?

And who was this sage Martin Luther who had answered the questions of Catholicism?

Had anyone else said such things, Xu Guangqi would have dismissed them with a laugh and denounced them as baseless nonsense.

But the words today had come from the mouth of the reigning Son of Heaven!

Everything His Majesty said was tightly logical and rich in detail; the certainty and cold severity in his tone did not seem in the slightest like pretense.

Besides, with the supreme dignity of the Son of Heaven, what need would he have to come and deliberately deceive an old man past sixty?

Xu Guangqi wanted not to believe it, yet he could not bring himself to disbelieve it.

Turning it over and over in his mind, he only felt as if a giant boulder were lodged in his chest, weighing on him so heavily he could barely breathe.

One sentence, like an incantation, kept surfacing in his heart and could not be dispelled.

— All my life I have been skilled at doubting, yet on this I can doubt no more. All my life I have been skilled at debating, yet on this I can debate no more.

Those were the words from the heart that he had spoken to Matteo Ricci when, at the age of forty, after deep and careful thought, he had finally resolved to convert to Catholicism.

In that moment, he had felt he had found the truth to save the world, found the hope of the Great Ming, and found his own path home; his heart had been filled with nothing but perfect clarity.

And now, Matteo Ricci, with whom he had once talked through the night and whom he had regarded as a kindred spirit, had already passed away.

Yet he, Xu Guangqi, at this age of sixty, on the very verge of the grave, was once again beset by doubt!

"If the root is already twisted, how can the branches grow straight?"

Xu Guangqi murmured to himself, his voice hoarse and trembling.

He pondered it left and right, and the more he thought, the more alarmed he grew, the more he thought, the more despairing he became, as if the entire world had turned upside down in this single moment.

Crack!

A sharp sound shattered the silence of the duty room.

Xu Guangqi abruptly flung the writing brush from his hand, rose straight up, and strode toward the door.

All these questions lodged in his heart were like a fishbone stuck in his throat. If he did not get to the bottom of them, if he did not investigate everything until the truth came to light, he, Xu Guangqi, would not die in peace!

He was going back — to scour every Western-language text, and even to go and interrogate those missionaries who were still alive!

He had to know: what, in the end, was true, and what was false!

I, Xu Guangqi, have been skilled at doubting all my life!