Chapter 346: Surveying the Heavens, Shattering Appearances — A Crimson Portent Without Cause

At the end of the sixth month, first year of the Yongchang reign.

The blazing sun hung overhead, the drone of cicadas grating on the ear — yet the moment he stepped into the Zhang clan of Shanyin's "Mine Garden" on Dragon Mountain, Qi Biaojia felt a wave of coolness wash over him. Following behind the servant who led the way, he passed through corridors and crossed courtyards, taking in his surroundings, his heart stirred by a tangle of emotions.

In the first year of Tianqi, Zhang Dai's grandfather Zhang Rulin had retired home from his post in Guizhou due to illness, and only then began building this garden.

At that time, Qi Biaojia had just seen the birth of his eldest son, then departed for the capital that winter to sit the civil examinations.

In the end, he passed smoothly, his name inscribed on the golden roster, and after his probationary posting, was appointed Judge of Xinghua Prefecture in Fujian.

For the five years since, he had been serving in Fujian, far from his hometown and even farther from the seat of power.

Now that he had returned, his eldest son at home had already had his hair bound into the double-bun of childhood, yet stared at him timidly, unable to recognize his own father.

And this garden, which back then had been nothing but a field of scattered rubble, had likewise risen up in stately completion.

The two reflections set side by side — how could he not be moved?

He strolled through it, his eyes filled everywhere with the presence of water, yet so perfectly settled and arranged that it never felt excessive or chaotic.

The Longevity Flower Hall in the outer court was partitioned by a long causeway, a bamboo path, and Little Eyebrow Hill, making the waterway appear winding, deep, and long.

The inner residence was screened off by the Rosy Cloud Pavilion, a long covered gallery, and a small arched bridge — secluded, deep, and still.

When he reached the Perch Fragrance Pavilion overlooking the pond, the living water diverted from Lord Pang's Pond coiled and swirled through the garden, bending thrice upon itself, suffused with a mood of tranquil remoteness.

The venomous sun of high summer was blocked rigidly in midair by the dense canopy of camphor and old locust trees overhead.

Only a few stray threads of sunlight pierced through the layered branches and leaves, casting dappled, swaying patterns of light and shadow upon the secluded path paved in bluestone slabs.

A breeze brushed past, and the tree shadows danced.

The grating drone of cicadas outside seemed to weaken once it reached this deep courtyard, replaced by the occasional crisp trill of birdsong. The oppressive, clinging heat that had hung upon his body was, upon stepping into this mist-shrouded garden, washed utterly clean; he felt every pore of his body open wide, suffused with a refreshing, heart-penetrating coolness.

As he passed the little arched bridge, Qi Biaojia stopped and looked down.

In the crystal-clear pond water, several plump koi lazily swayed their red-and-white tail fins, drifting beneath the shade of the water lilies. Hearing the footsteps on the bridge, they showed no alarm, merely blowing a few lazy bubbles before flicking their tails once more and diving to the bottom. In the air drifted a faint trace of some unknown, delicate floral fragrance, mingled with the damp scent of moss along the water's edge, threading its way into his nostrils in wisps. Qi Biaojia followed this quiet sound of water and the dappled light and shadow, treading upon a ground of coolness, passing all the way through until he reached the far end of the study courtyard.

"The young master is inside the study. He gave instructions that you are to go straight in," the servant said, bowing respectfully before withdrawing with silent steps.

Qi Biaojia raised his head to look at the study ahead, and his brow could not help but furrow.

In this sweltering weather, the study was sealed utterly airtight!

Outside every latticed window, a thick layer of dark cloth had been fastened down tightly and completely, not a single crack left exposed.

He stepped forward and knocked on the door.

After a moment, the door was pulled open a crack from within.

A lean young man with a glint of cunning in his eyes poked his head out. Seeing who it was, his face broke into a grin. "Youwen! You've finally come! Quick, come in — I have something utterly marvelous to show you today!"

With that, Zhang Dai seized Qi Biaojia by the wrist and pulled him inside.

The door swung shut behind them with a firm click.

The room was steeped in gloom; Qi Biaojia narrowed his eyes, taking a long moment to adjust.

Only then could he make out that the entire room had been sealed tight, with only a single small hole cut into one side window.

A beam of sunlight shot straight through that hole, forming a sharp, clear shaft of light in the dim room.

"Zongzi, what sort of trickery are you up to?" Qi Biaojia asked, puzzled. Zhang Dai laughed smugly and rapped his fist against his palm.

"Never mind that — just stay right here and watch closely."

With that, he walked over to a table beside the shaft of light, and with great care picked up an object of transparent crystal, triangular in shape, and placed it beneath the beam of light.

He adjusted it slightly.

At once, upon the whitewashed wall directly opposite, a brilliant band of light materialized out of thin air!

Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet!

The seven colors intertwined and arrayed themselves, dreamlike and illusory.

"Is this... a rainbow?" Qi Biaojia strode quickly forward, staring at the band of light on the wall, his face full of astonishment.

Zhang Dai burst out laughing, his tone betraying poorly concealed pride. "This is a triangular prism I had someone purchase at great expense from the 'Wenshan Studio' in the capital — it cost me a full three taels of silver!"

"This object can take plain, unremarkable sunlight and restore it to its fundamental seven true colors!"

Qi Biaojia's interest was piqued. He took the prism from Zhang Dai's hand, held it beneath the light, and examined it closely, turning it this way and that.

Watching the path of light blaze brilliantly through the crystal, the refracted rainbow shifting on the wall into all manner of lovely patterns as the angle changed, he could not help but click his tongue in wonder.

His mind worked extremely fast; after a moment's thought, the words slipped out:

"When we painters mix colors, red and yellow combined make orange, yellow and blue blended make green. Could it be... that all principles under heaven are in truth like this? Sunlight appears colorless, but is in fact formed by the convergence of these seven colors?"

Zhang Dai, hearing this, clapped his hands and laughed heartily. "Exactly so!"

"But what I want to show you goes far beyond just this."

He took the prism back from Qi Biaojia and carefully repositioned it on the wooden stand.

"Youwen, keep your eyes wide open."

Zhang Dai drew a deep breath, held it, and from a wooden box on the table pinched up a handful of extremely fine sand.

He held his hand suspended above the seven-colored beam of light refracted by the prism — then suddenly let go.

The fine sand cascaded down like a waterfall, streaming through that shaft of light.

Qi Biaojia fixed his gaze upon it.

In the instant the fine sand obstructed the light's path, the originally dazzling seven-colored band on the wall dimmed abruptly.

The five colors of yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet were, astonishingly, entirely blotted out and swallowed by the swirling cloud of fine sand!

Across the entire wall, only red and orange remained, piercing through the dust and still stubbornly projecting onto the wall's surface!

Qi Biaojia's whole body jolted.

In a single instant, his exceptional mind connected all the things he had seen and heard over these past months.

He whipped his head around and stared at Zhang Dai. "The heavens turned red as blood!!"

"This is the truth behind why the heavens over Shaanxi turned red as blood in the third month!!"

The smug grin on Zhang Dai's face instantly froze.

Somewhat disgruntled, he clapped the remaining sand from his hands, suddenly finding the whole thing rather dull.

"Youwen, ah, Youwen! Why must you always be so clever? It's truly insufferable!" He rose to his feet, strode briskly to the window, and threw open every door and window in one go.

The heat wave and fresh breeze from outside rushed in together, and the previously dim room was instantly flooded with light.

"Someone! Bring tea!" Zhang Dai shouted toward the door.

Before long, servants entered with light steps, swept the fine sand clean from the floor, presented two cups of fragrant clear tea, and then withdrew respectfully.

The two men seated themselves once more before the open hall.

Zhang Dai pulled a thick volume from beneath his writing desk and handed it to Qi Biaojia.

"I spent a great deal of money to subscribe to urgent dispatches from the capital."

"The moment the Great Ming Times is published, special couriers from the escort bureau relay it by boat and horse all the way to Shanyin."

"This specific experimental procedure for explaining 'the heavens red as blood' was only published in the paper six days ago."

"I was hoping to use this chance to properly bluff you, but I never imagined you'd catch on so fast."

At this point, Zhang Dai paused, his gaze sweeping over Qi Biaojia with a trace of suspicion.

"You little scoundrel... you wouldn't have already read the newspaper at your residence and come here today specifically to put on an act and amuse yourself at my expense, would you?"

Qi Biaojia lifted his teacup and rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Do I have so little to do that I'd come all this way just to put on a show for you?"

"My old man is utterly absorbed in copying ancient texts day after day, spending all his time holed up in his Dansheng Hall, and shows scant interest in the court's new policies."

"The latest newspaper sitting on my desk at home still has the final results of that sound-speed measurement in the capital on its front page," he grumbled offhandedly, while casually accepting the volume Zhang Dai passed him.

Glancing down, he saw the cover bore Zhang Dai's flowing running script, with four large characters: A Compendium of Science.

Opening the volume, Qi Biaojia raised an eyebrow slightly.

On every page, neatly and precisely pasted, were newspaper clippings — without exception, all of them the "Science Column" from the Great Ming Times.

He understood at a glance, and without lingering on those older entries, flipped directly to the last few pages.

As he leafed through, he casually continued the conversation:

"Your days, Zhang Zongzi, were once spent either roaming through nature, composing operas, or hunting down fine cuisine. How could you possibly have the inclination to concern yourself with such dry matters of seeking truth?"

"I don't even need to ask — this little trick of yours with light and shadow was surely learned from the Great Ming Times."

Qi Biaojia's eyes settled on the newspaper text as he divided his attention:

"Add to that, in the fourth month of this year, the paper published an account of the strange phenomenon in Shaanxi — 'the heavens red as blood.'"

"His Majesty used that celestial sign as a pretext to divert a portion of the tax grain from Huguang and Shanxi, transferring it to Shaanxi for disaster preparedness. Immediately after, he revived the policy of delivering grain to the Nine Frontiers in exchange for salt certificates."

"With these several matters set in motion, was it only the three prefectures of Shaanxi that felt the impact?"

"Even as far away as Fujian, merchants are stirring restlessly, using the grain-for-salt policy and the tide of the new reforms to advocate for new maritime trade measures. They want to ask whether, instead of salt certificates, the grain deliveries could be exchanged for quotas to open the seas and send out ships."

"When I departed, the Fujian provincial headquarters was still abuzz with discussions on this very topic."

"Connecting all of this to see through your little trick — is that not only to be expected?"

Hearing this, Zhang Dai could only shake his head helplessly and say no more.

This old friend of his had solved the case of a servant stealing eggs at the age of six, revealing early signs of a child prodigy.

(Author's note: The method was simply having everyone rinse their mouths — the thief would spit out egg yolk. Nothing particularly brilliant; the remarkable part was his young age.) At sixteen, he placed first in the county examination; at seventeen, he passed the juren examination; and at twenty, he earned the jinshi degree with high honors.

What a stunning, peerless genius.

Zhang Dai had been utterly outclassed by him in every respect since childhood, and to be honest, he had long grown accustomed to it.

What he had never anticipated was that even this kind of scientific experiment — utterly novel and without any basis in the classics — would still fail to outmatch him. Qi Biaojia read with extreme speed, finishing the column article on the scattering of light and shadow in a matter of moments.

He could not help but set down the volume, clap his hands, and exclaim, "Brilliant! Truly, absolutely brilliant!"

"This author begins his discourse by posing questions drawn from celestial phenomena, laying out a series of puzzles."

"Then he moves into a darkened chamber, using sunlight and candlelight separately to simulate and reproduce the effects, proving that the brightness and darkness of light paths and the brightness and darkness of the heavens share a common principle."

"In the final installment, he employs the scattering of a triangular prism, then gradually adds dust for comparison, arriving at the conclusion that red and orange light possess the strongest penetrating power and travel the farthest."

"Advancing step by step, with airtight logic, yet utterly captivating — it simply leaves one in admiration!"

Qi Biaojia lowered his head to glance at the signature at the end of the article and murmured to himself:

"Li Tianjing? Who is this sage? He's a new face in the Science Column."

Zhang Dai took a sip of tea and replied:

"I actually know a bit of the background on this."

"This man is a jinshi of the forty-first year of Wanli, formerly serving as an Assistant Administration Commissioner of Shandong."

Zhang Dai paused, and a note of sudden emotion crept into his voice.

"He is also one of only three jinshi among all the current examination graduates of our dynasty who have completely abandoned the path of officialdom in the circuits and censorial offices to devote themselves solely to this pursuit of truth. For a man so resolutely dedicated to the Dao to deduce such principles, I am truly convinced from the bottom of my heart."

Qi Biaojia raised an eyebrow; with his intelligence, he instantly realized that this so-called "one of three" might very well be the only one.

As for the other two, the first was naturally the current Director of the Academy of Sciences, Xiong Mingyu, whose star was rising fast.

Over these past months, Xiong Mingyu's name had become widely renowned through the Times.

The other, presumably, was that Doctor of Agriculture, Wang Xiangjin.

But Wang Xiangjin was already advanced in years, a man with one foot in the grave — his complete abandonment of an official career was hardly a marvel. Yet this Li Tianjing, in the prime of his life with a bright future ahead, had also made such a resolute choice?

Qi Biaojia pondered for a moment, yet something felt amiss.

He turned over and over in his mind the shifting currents of the court in recent times, and finally realized where that lingering sense of strangeness had been coming from.

"For His Majesty to throw open the gates to the pursuit of truth with such great fanfare — this method seems..."

Zhang Dai looked at him, baffled, and asked:

"What of it? Where the Dao lies, there lies truth. What is wrong with His Majesty taking the lead in seeking truth?"

Qi Biaojia drew a deep breath and slowly shook his head.

"Zongzi, you're oversimplifying things."

"Since ancient times, celestial omens have been a sharp weapon for court officials to attack each other in factional struggles, and a means for subjects to admonish and restrain the sovereign." "But conversely, haven't they also been a crucial tool for the Emperor to proclaim that he 'governs by Heaven's mandate' and uphold the unity of 'family and state'?"

"Yet now the Emperor has voluntarily lifted the taboo, allowing his subjects to use this so-called 'science' to tear away the veil of mystery from celestial phenomena."

"Think further — how did His Majesty repeatedly invoke the 'ancestral institutions' before, ostensibly respecting them while in practice treating them as waste paper?"

Qi Biaojia's tone was playful, as if he had discovered something intriguing:

"I have a feeling... although His Majesty never breathes a word of it, these methods of his are genuinely following the very path that Wang Jinggong walked back then!" Zhang Dai pondered this for a moment, then abruptly raised his head.

The instant their eyes met, they spoke the bold reformist declaration in unison.

"Heavenly portents need not be feared, ancestral models need not be followed, men's gossip need not be heeded!"