Chapter 517: Jixia

"Last time I passed through Linzi I only stayed one day — no time to come over. Chen Ping did make a round, but all he said was that Jixia had already disbanded and turned into a barracks."

Heifu raised his head and gazed at the Heng Gate before him — a paifang, really: two stone pillars supporting a giant wooden crossbeam, topped with bracket sets and a black-tiled roof. No carved beams or painted pillars like later ages, just plain and simple, utterly unadorned. Only the great stone tablet set into the middle of the crossbeam bore four characters traced in vermilion, still unfaded to this day: "Jixia Academy!"

The time was already late in the eighth month. That day, after descending Mount Tai by its northern slope, the First Emperor proceeded to nearby Mount Liangfu and there performed the Shan rite, sacrificing to the earth deity. Just as with the Feng rite on Mount Tai, he barred the Confucian scholars from participating, instead heeding the counsel of the fangshi, blending Qin's state altar rites with the Qi people's rites for the "Earth Lord."

After that came the release of exotic beasts, rare birds, white mountain fowl, and the like — tribute from distant lands — back into the mountain forests. The giant beasts, the si-oxen, rhinoceroses, and elephants sent as tribute from Jiangnan, were unsuited for release into the wild, so they were all slaughtered as sacrifices… In any case, the traveling palace at the foot of Mount Tai was finally no longer a "menagerie."

The First Emperor further proclaimed a special grant to the common people of Mount Tai and Mount Liangfu: for every ten households, one sheep and ten dan of ale; to the widowed and childless aged eighty and above, two bolts of cloth and silk. The regions traversed during this Feng and Shan progress were exempted from corvée labor and this year's land taxes — a timely rain for the locals who had borne the burden of building the traveling palace and roads. Yet the Emperor did not grant his ministers' repeated petitions for a general amnesty.

The next day, the fangshi Lu Ao, Hou Sheng, and others reported that on the night of the Shan rite, a light had seemed to appear at the site, and by day white clouds had risen from the ritual mound…

At this, Zhang Cang merely curled his lip. Though he did not believe a word, he did not rashly step forward again. He understood: this was exactly what the Emperor wanted to hear, and what he wanted all under Heaven to believe as truth. To part the clouds and see the sun — the time was still far from ripe.

In late eighth month, the First Emperor's inspection procession finally reached the western outskirts of Linzi. As dusk was falling and there was no time to enter the city, they made camp for the night outside the Ji Gate.

The Ji Gate was Linzi's western city gate. Outside it, houses clustered thickly, galleries and pavilions gathered like clouds, with ready-made lodgings to accommodate the great retinue. Heifu, led here by Zhang Cang to this Heng Gate, only now realized — so this was the renowned Jixia Academy!

Zhang Cang told Heifu that in the Spring and Autumn period, the Son of Heaven had the Biyong and the feudal lords had the Pan Palace — both were official academies responsible for educating the sons and younger brothers of the lords, ministers, and grandees, so they would not be unable to read a single character or remain ignorant of the Odes and reckoning.

But as rites collapsed and music fell into ruin, these official academies handed down from the Zhou dynasty fell into neglect one after another. In the late Spring and Autumn period, men of learning like Confucius began to establish private schools, teaching all without distinction. Later thinkers of every school followed suit.

In the hundred years of the early Warring States, Confucianism and Mohism became the prominent teachings. The feudal lords' official academies were like cold ashes in a brazier, while private schools blazed like wildfire across the plain, thriving ever more — to the point that feudal rulers had no choice but to summon the various masters to court as Erudites and advisors. For instance, Marquis Wen of Wei invited Zixia to Wei and founded the Hexi School.

The Tian clan's Qi was no different. To shake off accusations of usurpation and to draw in men of insight and consolidate their rule, Duke Huan of Tian Qi founded the Jixia Academy, recruiting talent from far and wide. To the scholars who came to him, he granted the treatment of grandees and permitted them to "discuss governance without holding office." Over a hundred years have passed since then.

So you see, Jixia Academy truly could call itself a "century-old university," for the Nine Schools and Ten Houses all converged here, a hundred schools contending — a genuine "comprehensive university." And Xunzi was this university's headmaster, elected three times in succession.

Heifu had long heard of Jixia and had always wanted to come see it.

Yet at the Heng Gate, they met obstruction.

"Who goes there?"

A stern shout rang out. Soldier Jia of Qin and Soldier Yi of Qin stood guard here, halberds in hand, eyeing the two warily. Zhang Cang and Heifu — one fat, one lean; one pale, one dark — walking together made a most conspicuous pair.

Only after they presented their travel permits and tally tokens did the soldiers hastily prostrate themselves and beg forgiveness. Soon, a local commander of fifty came running over and offered his apologies:

"I venture to inform my superiors: this whole area has been requisitioned as a military camp. The soldiers, hearing His Majesty rests nearby, are all on high alert. Not recognizing men of rank, they have offended you both."

So saying, he eagerly offered to guide Heifu and his companion on their way.

"No need."

Zhang Cang dismissed him. Though the stout fellow had formally become a disciple in Lanling, when Xunzi returned to Zhao he had brought Zhang Cang here too, staying several months. So Zhang Cang knew every blade of grass and every tree of Jixia, and he led Heifu inward with the ease of a familiar traveler.

Passing through the Heng Gate, what met the eye was a stretch of water — part of Shen Pool, curving inward to form a pond, its banks lined with stone railings hewn from many blocks of blue stone.

Zhang Cang leaned on the stone railing and pointed at the water's surface: "Had you come in the fifth or sixth month, you would have seen the whole pond veiled in lotus leaves, the blossoms in full splendor. What a pity…"

What a pity — what Heifu saw instead were lotus leaves slowly withering on the pond, a scene of utter decay, just like Jixia today. The troops stationed here drew water and washed clothes in it, muddying the pool considerably.

Other places were much the same. The courtyards where the Jixia Masters and their disciples had lived were now barracks where common soldiers slept. The library chambers, once so crammed with books that the oxen hauling them would sweat, had been emptied bare. The debate forum square, where the disciples of Xunzi and Mencius had debated "Heaven and Man" and "Human Nature: Good or Evil," had become a drill ground where troops mustered and trained.

Even the peach grove where Zou Yan, Tian Pian, Shen Dao, and Master Xun had once lectured had been largely felled by the garrison for firewood…

"And it's all your fault."

Seeing Jixia transformed beyond recognition, Zhang Cang, amid his sighs of regret and lament, blew out his whiskers and glared — pinning the blame on Heifu.

"Why blame me?"

Heifu was baffled. He had neither taken part in the Qi campaign nor served as a Linzi local official. What did Jixia's decline have to do with him?

Zhang Cang had only been teasing. Pointing at the peach grove, now reduced to a field of stumps, he laughed: "When you were in Yuzhang and the Northern Lands, you advocated that soldiers drink boiled water to reduce epidemics. That policy has spread far and wide. Now commanders everywhere, whenever conditions allow, make their troops drink hot water. That takes a great deal of firewood — how could this peach grove not suffer?"

Heifu knew Zhang Cang was joking, but he still replied: "Since the men have already gone, what use is an empty peach grove?"

Zhang Cang paused, then nodded. "True. What mattered most at Jixia was never the courtyards, halls, or peach groves — it was the people. When the people remain, culture flourishes; when the people leave, culture withers…"

At this thought, Zhang Cang's spirits flagged. He sighed: "Times change, things move on. Jixia is already ruined. A true pity. I wish to probe the mysteries of Heaven and Earth, the laws of nature, but one man's learning is limited. Shutting the door to build a cart only produces a cart that won't fit the ruts — I fear I'll make no progress. I need disciples to assist me, and I need people to debate with. If Jixia still stood, it would be the finest place for it."

Heifu understood. He smiled: "Truth grows clearer the more it's debated."

"Exactly — truth grows clearer the more it's debated!"

Zhang Cang's eyes lit up. "The Master said the same: had he not debated with the disciples of Mencius, the Mohists, the School of Names, and the Huang-Lao school, his understanding of the Five Debates — Heaven and Man, Name and Substance, Good and Evil, Profit and Righteousness, the Hegemon and the True King — could never have deepened day by day. And only through debate can ideas spread across the world and become known to all…"

People don't like reading obscure books, but they do love listening to a lively war of words. In those days, the propositions debated on the Jixia forum, those brilliant remarks, were always relished and retold by the scholars of the realm.

But the scholars' finest age has passed. Now Jixia lies in ruins — there is simply no such setting anymore.

"I'm not so sure."

Heifu, however, smiled. "Jixia has declined, true enough. But has the spirit of learning that Jixia passed down also perished? I think not. So long as the people remain, Jixia remains!"

"So long as the people remain, Jixia remains…" Hearing this, Zhang Cang seemed to grasp something.

Recalling the events of these past several centuries, was it not always so? Zhang Cang remembered that his Master, Xun Qing, had once told him: the learning of the ancients invariably had a source, all of it originating from the offices of the Zhou royal house. The Six Arts that the Confucians extolled were precisely the education the Zhou official academies gave the nobility; Laozi himself had begun as the Keeper of the Zhou Archives. In that era, the cultural center of the world was Luoyang.

But after the rebellion of Prince Chao, Luoyang suffered immense destruction, and even the archived books were gradually scattered to the winds. Afterward, private schools arose. Once Confucius, Shao Zhengmao, and others opened their forums and took on disciples, the cultural center of the world shifted to Lu.

After Confucius passed away, his seventy-two disciples began to splinter — some entering Qi, some Chu, some Jin. But a new center soon emerged: the Hexi School under Marquis Wen of Wei, with Zixia and others at its core. Many from that school became capable ministers governing Wei, and Legalist thought first sprouted there. Wei, in the early Warring States, was beyond dispute the cultural center.

Then came Jixia Academy — needless to elaborate. The Daoists, Confucians, Legalists, School of Names, Strategists, Agriculturalists, Yin-Yang School, the School of Light and Heavy — a galaxy of brilliant stars, a hundred schools contending! In that era, Jixia was not only the axis of Chinese culture, but one of the three great axes of world civilization. A pity that later on, King Min of Qi, bellicose and vainglorious, fond of grand projects and arbitrary in rule, brought Jixia Academy to decline. The Jixia Masters gradually dispersed, gathering instead in Qin and Chu.

At the call of Lord Chunshen, Xunzi and others gathered in Lanling County in Chu. Li Si, Han Fei, Fuqiu Bo, Zhang Cang — all completed their studies at Lanling.

Yet the irony is that three among them, without prior agreement, all chose to enter Qin. Lü Buwei, then Chancellor of Qin, vigorously recruited retainers and compiled the Lüshi Chunqiu — a work synthesizing the learning of all schools. Though after the First Emperor took personal rule, no one spoke of this book anymore, the guests from the Six States who had entered Qin mostly stayed on.

After Qin's unification, the Emperor further summoned over seventy Confucian and Huang-Lao scholars to Xianyang, honoring them as Erudites. Together with the Mohists already native to Qin, Xianyang seemed to become the new cultural center. The Erudites could consult and collate the books Qin had seized from the Six States, and Zhang Cang's Nine Chapters on the Mathematical Art was compiled on precisely this foundation!

With the further impetus of paper, transcribing ancient texts into paper books had already become a new潮流 that could not be ignored. The speed at which knowledge and culture spread was far swifter than before.

Sitting amid the Jixia peach grove, now reduced to stumps, Heifu kept Zhang Cang company as they traced the shifting cultural centers of Huaxia over the past thousand years. The conclusion they reached in the end was this: knowledge and culture are not like a state's altars of soil and grain — once the great edifice falls, they do not perish overnight. They move with the people!

Heifu could not help teasing Zhang Cang: "Zihu, oh Zihu — wise for a lifetime, muddled for a moment. Here you are, riding a donkey while searching for one. You stand here lamenting the death of Jixia, yet you never realized: a new Jixia, a new hundred flowers blooming, has long been fermenting, sprouting!"

Yet this favorable trend could at any moment be cut short, for both the Emperor and Chancellor Li Si were men who liked to "distinguish black from white and exalt one alone," detesting dissenting voices and "lane gossip."

Heifu had not felt it so keenly before, but this time, the Confucian scholars' suicidal antics at the foot of Mount Tai made him realize that the estrangement between the Confucians and the court had already begun, beyond repair.

If that crowd stirred up some fresh disaster one of these days, bringing the "book burning" edict ahead of schedule — that would hardly be surprising!

Just as he was pondering this, the herald Yang Liu came to Jixia seeking Heifu and Zhang Cang. Bowing with clasped hands, he announced: "Junior Chief of the Multitude, Grand Master of the Fifth Order — His Majesty summons you urgently!"

Seeing the man had come in haste, Zhang Cang asked: "May I know what has happened?"

Yang Liu replied helplessly: "Word of His Majesty's encounter with rain during the Feng and Shan rites somehow reached Linzi even before the imperial carriage did. Now it is being mocked and ridiculed in the streets and alleys of Linzi. The ballad-collecting officials overheard it and reported back to the traveling palace. His Majesty, on hearing it, was enraged, and has ordered the Chancellor to investigate the matter thoroughly!"

(End of chapter)