Chapter 231: River Clear, Society Resonates, Dragons Take Form
The history of guild halls stretches far back in time.
In the Han dynasty, official lodges were established in Chang'an; in the Tang, Imperial Reporting Offices were set up; in the Song, Court Assembly Halls existed; the Ming had none, only private guild halls—but these served only local gentry, and those summoned to court could not possibly reside in them.
Guild halls followed their own developmental trajectory and bore distinct characteristics of their era.
Since they were private, they naturally favored closeness over distance; thus, they typically hosted only fellow provincials and bore names tied to their origins—such as the All-Shanxi Guild Hall, the All-Hubei Guild Hall, the Huizhou Guild Hall, and so on.
Such strong regional identity was clearly unsuitable for broadly inviting fellow scholars to literary gatherings.
Fortunately, another kind of guild hall existed with less pronounced regional ties: those sponsored under the names of Buddhist and Daoist institutions, funded by "believers," generally called this temple or that palace, where one paid respects to the Daoist Ancestor or the Buddha, and then welcomed all comers.
Tonight, Gu Assistant County Magistrate chose the Sanyang Palace for his literary gathering.
The Sanyang Palace spanned three bays in width and three courtyards in depth, each courtyard connected by a lotus pond.
The first courtyard had a mountain gate at the entrance: a six-pillar, five-bay, seven-tiered stone imitation-wood archway, with arched gates on either side; at the center of the front courtyard stood the Zhenjun Hall, while to the north lay the Lecture Hall and to the south the Jingyang Shrine—its facade was imposing.
The second courtyard featured a central open space, with a hip-and-gable-roofed theater on one side and the Yulong Hall on the other.
…
A sparrow, separated from its flock, happened to fly over the second courtyard of the Sanyang Palace.
From above, the sparrow's eyes reflected the lanterns and festive decorations of the courtyard, thick with New Year's spirit; as it passed over the Nine-Step-to-Immortality Bridge, it heard the murmured conversations of scattered students; finally, it landed beneath the eaves of a two-story pavilion.
It peered curiously inside.
There, a man stood on the stage, talking incessantly, impassioned and fervent.
"Those who call themselves men of aspiration have never failed to rush urgently to save the world."
"Officials of the capital care not for their sovereign or father; frontier officials care not for the people; those who gather in small groups to discuss life and nature care not for the state of the world. Even if they possess other virtues, the gentleman despises them."
Gu Assistant County Magistrate, merely standing in the hall, naturally drew everyone's attention.
Especially today, he had bathed and dressed meticulously in a thin white brocade robe unsuited to the cold weather, his wide sleeves fluttering—truly an immortal's grace, a divine figure standing out.
Added to this were his words' arrogance and ambition—he, though low in status, had the will to save the world; yet he looked down contemptuously on those high in status but lacking such will.
This bearing, this aura—born to be a leader.
Immediately, someone in the crowd asked: "Those in high office are not necessarily men of aspiration. Since Master Gu says this, you must be one. Then, how would you save the world?"
Gu Assistant County Magistrate bowed to the questioner and praised: "Well asked."
He looked around and declared loudly: "The world suffers not from lack of governance, but from lack of learning. Why?"
"Governance resides in men; men reside in their hearts."
"When learning is upright, the heart is upright; when the heart is upright, what arises from it and manifests in governance cannot but be upright."
"Thus, learning is the moral foundation of the people, the great root of the world."
"In this decadent age, not only do they fail to understand learning to uphold morality, they seek to ban learning—how can the world ever be peaceful?"
"…."
How did the world fall into chaos?
Because learning has become corrupt!
Morality and governance are derivatives of learning; when the root is ruined, morality and governance follow.
Thus, how to save the world is clear: first, rectify learning!
When learning is properly cultivated, the heart naturally becomes upright; all will understand benevolence and righteousness; high officials will fulfill their duties; the world will flourish.
He also subtly expressed his disapproval of the emperor's ban on officials lecturing.
Below the stage, some cheered, some pondered, some debated among themselves.
At this moment, a voice came from somewhere: "Does Master Gu mean that after becoming an official, governance is secondary, and lecturing is the true calling?"
Gu Assistant County Magistrate had invited fellow scholars widely—he was not afraid of challenge.
He did not look at who asked, but smiled faintly and shook his head: "Governance originates from learning; governance is learning; learning resides within governance; governance and learning are one; when the heart is balanced, governance is balanced."
"This is a mutually reinforcing relationship: without learning, one cannot govern; to govern, one must diligently cultivate learning."
"To treat governance as learning, one responds to all with sincerity, without flattery or resistance—everyone will see such officials as virtuous, truly fulfilling their learning."
Literary gatherings, of course, came in many forms: some praised objects, some harmonized music, some preached doctrine.
As candidates for the metropolitan examination, aspiring Tong Jinshi, one did not attend every literary gathering.
Today's large gathering was naturally because the theme of this gathering closely tied to the metropolitan exam and official service.
First, it was about predicting exam questions.
"One man's plan is short; many men's plans are long." At this stage of the exam, memorizing in isolation had long lost its effect; instead, predicting questions and mutually testing each other occasionally sparked sudden insight, lifting one from the hundred-foot pole.
Thus, before each metropolitan exam, such gatherings hosted by star candidates resembled study groups.
Of course, this phase had ended.
Everyone had now entered the next stage—they were certain to pass the Tong Jinshi exam—so how would they become good officials, virtuous ministers, useful men for the state?
Though discussing such matters before the exam seemed premature to outsiders.
Yet they did not know: this was precisely the difference between high-end literary gatherings and low-end study groups—precisely because we are certain of success, we must consider these questions in advance.
After answering one point, Gu Assistant County Magistrate was about to continue.
But the same voice spoke again: "His Majesty previously rebuked the Hanlin compiler Zhao Jun for neglecting his duties and lecturing openly."
"So, in Master Gu's view, His Majesty is obstructing Zhao Jun's heart to save the world?"
Gu Assistant County Magistrate's expression did not change, but he smiled coldly within.
Public teaching most feared traps—someone luring him into saying something untimely.
In serious cases, academies and guild halls could be shut down.
But these petty men knew nothing: who stood behind him tonight? Such underhanded tricks only made them look like ridiculous clowns.
Gu Assistant County Magistrate not only did not avoid this sensitive issue—he clapped his hands and smiled, radiant: "Exactly."
"Rectifying the hearts and morals of men surpasses all ingenious tricks and endless warfare."
"If we do not lift the ban on learning and uphold morality, the court's governance will grow weaker, and the world's peace more precarious."
He openly declared it today—let the Prefectural Yamen runners of Shuntian Prefecture and the soldiers of the Five City Military Command try to smash his gathering tonight.
The voice rose again, exaggerated: "So you mean, if the court ignores Zhao Jun, the Great Ming will soon fall?"
The malice behind these words made Gu Assistant County Magistrate's face turn cold.
He finally abandoned pretense, scanning the crowd—trying to find who was so treacherous.
The students below also frowned.
This questioner was too insolent—he might ruin everyone's chance to attend the gathering.
Li Sancai signaled Gu Assistant County Magistrate, gesturing for him to press further, so he could identify the troublemaker.
Whether Gu Assistant County Magistrate saw the signal or simply lost patience, he replied bluntly: "... Hard to say."
After Gu Assistant County Magistrate spoke, Li Sancai scanned the crowd below with his eyes.
Unfortunately, the insolent voice did not speak again.
After waiting a long while, Gu Assistant County Magistrate, unchallenged, continued his argument with disdain.
"Regardless of this student's intent, the question was well posed."
"To endlessly debate metaphysics without practicing real affairs—I also despise such conduct."
"To substitute empty words of 'illuminating the mind and seeing one's nature' for the practical study of self-cultivation and governing others—this trend, even if Wang Wang Yangming returned, would make him frown."
"The purpose of learning lies in governing the world; those who speak of escaping the world are thieves of the Dao, traitors to the lineage!"
"Zhu Xi was plain, Wang Wang Yangming was grand; Zhu Xi was precise and solid, Wang Wang Yangming was expansive; Zhu Xi cultivated then realized, Wang Wang Yangming realized then cultivated."
"Thus, in examining their deeds, observing subtle thoughts, seeking in texts, and probing in discourse, the two masters differed—but in reaching the Dao, they were the same, and this did not hinder their unity."
"Therefore, this is a struggle between orthodox learning and learning-thieves—not a debate over whether to ban lectures."
"His Majesty now bans lectures and learning, thereby confusing this distinction. From my view, the many petty men of the Wu Tongzheng Office who wrote the new gazetteers have been misled by the learning-thief Li Zhi!"
"..."
It is not that learning is bad, nor that lecturing is bad—it is that the lecturing outside is unorthodox!
Today's schools have all distorted the origins of classical learning, hence their empty talk and lack of practical action—Wang Wang Yangming and Zhu Xi, if they returned, would shake their heads.
Gu Assistant County Magistrate mastered both the Mind and Principle schools, and had the greatest authority on orthodox Confucianism—when Master Wang met Master Zhu, their teachings, when deeply understood, were in harmony: one "cultivated to realize," the other "realized to cultivate"; one "cultivated while realizing," the other "realized while cultivating"—yet in reaching "the Dao," they converged, both becoming nourishment for Gu Assistant County Magistrate!
Thus, his view was different: he believed officials must combine learning with governance, and possess supreme morality.
When such gentlemen became officials, would not lecturing properly rectify the world's morals and spread virtue? How could it be banned?
Therefore, what the emperor should do is not ban lecturing, but quickly appoint Gu Assistant County Magistrate to restore orthodoxy.
Gu Assistant County Magistrate's diction was clear and bright, his white robe whiter than snow.
With every gesture, his wide sleeves stirred the wind, as if ready to float away.
Countless people below watched, entranced.
Even Zhu Zhu Yijun, watching from the second-floor room above, silently praised his appearance—nearly equal to Wang Wang Shizhen.
Zhu Zhu Yijun glanced at Li Zhi beside him and smiled: "Master Li, they call you a learning-thief—using He He Yongqing's channel to bewitch me, while controlling the new gazetteer to spread heresy. What do you have to say?"
He He Yongqing had faced many impeachments over the gazetteer.
After enduring this period, he finally broke down and fled during the New Year's holiday, seen by some as a major victory.
As the main editor of the gazetteer, Li Zhi could not escape blame.
Zhu Zhu Yijun's visit was impromptu—he had not intended to bring anyone, since it was the New Year's holiday, and people should be with family.
Later, he learned Li Zhi remained alone in the capital, so he sent someone to fetch him.
Li Zhi stood one step from the emperor, leaning forward to look down.
Hearing the emperor's words, his expression did not change: "Your Majesty, what he says is correct—I am indeed a learning-thief—but it is also incorrect: I have no intention to bewitch others."
"All my writings are for my own joy, not for others. I pursue selfishness and self-interest in my learning, seeking only my own satisfaction, regardless of others' criticism."
"This was already what His Majesty promised me."
Since you call me a thief of learning, then let me be a thief of learning.
I pursue my own scholarship—why should I care about your orthodox lineages?
What I think in my heart is my own orthodoxy.
As for spreading heretical doctrines? Those were published by the Wu Tongzheng Office at the Emperor's order—why hasn't anyone confronted the Emperor directly?
After his hair grew back, his face looked much more amiable than when he was bald, yet his arrogant, wild scholar's tone remained unchanged.
Li Zhi now endures Gu Assistant County Magistrate's scolding for good reason.
This year, Li Zhi wrote many outrageous essays.
The first article he took over for the new paper was on morality and interest.
He boldly claimed that only by pursuing interest can justice be upheld; otherwise, morality is nothing but snot on one's lips—wiped daily, yet still dumped on the ground.
Of course, this was the vernacular version; the standalone published essay was more refined—"To uphold righteousness is to pursue benefit. If one does not seek benefit, how can righteousness be established? If my Dao is clear, then my work is done. If one does not measure results, when will the Dao ever become clear?"
The saying "The noble understand righteousness, the petty understand benefit"—Li Zhi placed benefit before righteousness, with no concealment, naturally drawing much criticism.
Someone immediately reported Li Zhi's essay, but He He Yongqing had already prepared all the local yamens—so it was covered up.
This is why Gu Assistant County Magistrate, when discussing the importance of morality, blamed Li Zhi—moral decay was caused by people like him.
In addition, Li Zhi helped the Emperor refine the theory of good and evil.
"Human goodness and evil have no fixed nature; societal morality has no fixed judgment.
Without fixed nature, what is right for one may be wrong for another, yet both can coexist without harm; without fixed judgment, what is right for one may be wrong for another, yet both can proceed without contradiction. Thus, today's right and wrong may be called merely Li Li Zhuowu's own; or they may be called the universal right and wrong of countless sages and worthies through the ages; or even that you have inverted the right and wrong of countless ages, yet still condemn what I condemn—this too is acceptable. Then your own right and wrong are indeed valid.
Why? The fixed judgment of morality is an abstraction of the people's collective consensus; the people's collective consensus arises from shared interests; shared interests emerge from the evolution of the world.
Therefore, morality is born of the world, arises from the heart, and is inherently present."
In the vernacular of the new paper, this meant: morality is a product of the age, shaped by historical evolution, and abstracted from the accumulated life experiences, current living standards, and shared pursuit of interests of all people.
Then how does one cultivate innate moral knowledge?
One must firmly root oneself in the development of the age, raise the people's living standards, and align with the interests of all under heaven.
Conversely, even the words of sages are only valid in their own time—they cannot serve as "words for all things."
This was Li Zhi's self-correction of the Innate Knowledge as Present school: the Innate Knowledge in Accord with the Age school.
Since morality arises from reality and is rooted in the age, personal unity of knowledge and action can only occur within society—not in a utopian retreat, nor in the Four Books and Five Classics, nor merely in the mind—avoiding the world means escaping the moral aggregate and regressing to primal chaos; reciting scriptures ignores past errors and aids nothing to innate knowledge; awakening to the Dao means detaching from reality and indulging in empty fantasy.
Needless to say, this view was bound to stir up a hornet's nest.
It was completely at odds with the dominant schools of the time—whether Cheng-Zhu, early followers of Wang Wang Yangming, later disciples of Wang Wang Yangming, the Revivalist school, or the Guiyi school.
It also offended a host of scholar-officials who loved empty talk of innate knowledge, enjoyed lecturing on morality, or sought seclusion and sudden enlightenment.
It was said that the next day Li Zhi nearly got beaten up.
Had he not known some martial arts, it would have been him lying on the ground.
After this article, his writings grew even more extreme.
He slandered the classics—for example: "The Six Classics, the Analects, and the Mencius are mere talking points of Daoxue scholars, the hiding places of hypocrites"—Confucian classics? Just the chatter of Daoxue scholars, the veil of the hypocritical.
He belittled sages—for example: "Even Confucius is merely an ordinary human being," "The insight and breadth of even the greatest sages are no different"—sages? Fine, we're evenly matched.
He also made heretical claims—such as women's low status stems from imbalance of power, and that imbalance of power, like the division of scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants, or between Zhili prefectures and Shuntian Prefecture, is merely a product of the age and historical evolution.
In short, his output was abundant, yet none of it conformed to orthodoxy.
Many essays even made Zhu Zhu Yijun shake his head in disagreement, let alone the Confucian defenders.
Zhu Zhu Yijun thought of this, looked at Li Zhi, and shook his head: "You enjoy yourself and don't care—but others are coming for you specifically."
Li Zhi was fastidious and stood far from the Emperor; while listening to Gu Assistant County Magistrate's speech below, he was momentarily lost in thought.
After a while, he came to his senses and replied indifferently: "His scholarship is shallow, his skill immature—no cause for concern."
Zhu Zhu Yijun couldn't help but glare at Li Zhi.
Did this man truly not realize how many enemies he'd made lately, and still think Gu Assistant County Magistrate was merely Gu Assistant County Magistrate?
"If that were so, his newspaper and these recent scholarly gatherings would never have been allowed to proceed, nor would so many have come to support him," Zhu Zhu Yijun offered an unusual explanation.
Academic disputes have always been fiercely intense.
How could Li Zhi have been allowed to deviate from orthodoxy for over a year without any reaction?
How was Li Zhi forced to death in history? His crime: daring to promote heretical Dao, bewitching the world and misleading the people!
Under Zhu Zhu Yijun's influence, Li Zhi has surpassed even that.
The backlash naturally arrived as expected.
Why did Gu Assistant County Magistrate speak of restoring antiquity last month, preach the Doctrine of the Mean on New Year's Day, and now speak of morality at this scholarly gathering?
Behind him are countless elderly scholars.
This is the great struggle of the age—everyone wants to found a school and become a sage.
Every intellectual current arises from its soil.
In the Spring and Autumn period, thirty-six rulers were assassinated, fifty-two states perished, and countless feudal lords fled, unable to preserve their altars of soil and grain.
It was precisely this chaotic social context that determined Confucianism's political philosophy—Confucianism's origin lay fundamentally in the real political world of "rituals collapsed, music decayed."
Zhu Xi's rationalist learning, so criticized for suppressing human relations, arose for the same reason.
At that time, the people were demoralized after the southern migration of the elite; the court was steeped in bureaucratic inertia; the Emperor sat aloft, deliberately fostering dissent.
Precisely because of the perception that "Heavenly Principle was unclear, human desires ran rampant, fairness and justice were hollow"—this was the soil for Zhu Xi's rationalist learning's rise—as the Song-Yuan Learning Cases stated, Zhu Xi completed a monumental intellectual task by synthesizing a hundred generations.
Of course, the rise of a doctrine is one thing; how it later went astray is another.
The same was true of Wang Learning.
Those dissatisfied with the rigid adherence to Zhu Xi's school, its repetitive orthodoxy, and lack of individuality were not only Wang Wang Yangming—before him, Lu Lu Jiuyuan, Chen Xianzhang, and others had already denounced rationalist learning for "overemphasizing external pursuit and erasing the self," a near-universal consensus of the time.
Only afterward did Heart Learning emerge.
Of course, the banner of liberating the self—Wang Wang Yangming raised it, but scholar-officials could raise it too.
Master Wang himself said: seek inwardly; if I feel I am right, then I am right—no outsider has the right to judge.
Once the powerful unleashed themselves, customs naturally deteriorated—"Before Zhengde, customs were pure and sincere; now they are utterly decadent. The strong oppress the weak, the many overwhelm the few, petty men deceive the noble, juniors insult their seniors—the spirit of ritual and righteousness has vanished."
By the Emperor Jiajing era, extravagance and violation of norms became widespread: "Today's noble ministers and great families vie in luxury; commoners imitate them, customs become entrenched—clothing, food, utensils, and objects all exceed proper bounds."
During the Emperor Longqing era, this trend spread even among ordinary scholars: "Wealthy households lead in extravagance and licentiousness; scholars in wide sashes and official caps cultivate vice and arrogance."
They justified licentiousness with righteous logic: "The heart seeks nothing outside."
Today, the discerning lament that it is beyond repair—"Customs have shifted from purity to decadence, like rivers rushing downward, irreversibly."
This is the chaos of the Confucian scholarly world.
In chaos, sages emerge—like Zhu Xi, Wang Wang Yangming.
Or perhaps… the Eastern Forest Master of history.
This is what is meant by "arising in response to the times."
Countless great Confucians, old scholars, scholar-officials, and literary giants were involved.
They truly grieved over moral decay, feared the deterioration of customs, and sincerely wished to reshape morality and save the Great Ming from ruin.
Naturally, they truly believed in their own doctrines and despised heterodox deviations—Confucian self-rescue must first exclude those who smash the pot.
Below, Gu Assistant County Magistrate continued his torrent of words.
He returned to how one should conduct scholarship after becoming an official, how to restore the true source.
"Therefore, to correct learning, one must first dismantle heretical doctrines to clarify the ruler's mind, rectify customs, and purify morality."
"Fourth, it is called restoring antiquity."
"Writing without law, law not drawn from antiquity—this is unacceptable; learning without origin, origin not drawn from the classics—chaos cannot be corrected; morality without foundation, foundation not drawn from the sages—licentiousness cannot be purged."
"During the Zhengde and Emperor Jiajing eras, Jing Ming and Li Li Mengyang both promoted the study of restoring antiquity; the whole world followed suit, and literary style changed entirely."
"Today, to correct the source of learning, we must restore the antiquity of Confucius, Mencius, Cheng, and Zhu…"
He spoke fluently, his diction elegant.
All fell silent; only Gu Assistant County Magistrate's voice echoed softly.
Zhu Zhu Yijun listened quietly.
Suddenly he turned to Li Zhi and said slowly: "Li Qing, would you go down and give the younger generation some guidance?"
Without a word, Li Zhi turned and walked downstairs.
This chapter was not easy to write, and it may feel tiring—there are many articles referenced; explaining each one would be too lengthy. If you find it difficult, refer to the section comments.
I may not finish the next chapter today—I'm writing it now; treat it as unfinished for now.
(End of Chapter)
End of Chapter
