Chapter 249: The Rhinoceros Horn Candle and the Strange Phenomenon, Standing Ready

A carriage departed again from the relay station, returning to the official road.

As the carriage wheels turned, the heated arguments within the station grew faint, the sounds fading into silence inside the cabin.

Li Li Sicheng pulled his head back from outside the carriage and exclaimed in awe: "These scholars debating this doctrinal dispute is one thing, but I never expected even the Korean barbarians sent to deliver imperial edicts and come to court to thank His Majesty could speak of it in detail."

Li Li Chunfang leaned back in the carriage, a blanket draped over his legs, one hand holding his spectacles, the other bringing the newspaper close to his face as if reading intently; upon hearing his grandson's words, he merely nodded, unmoved.

Seeing his grandfather ignore him, Li Li Sicheng turned to his uncle.

Li Maonian was lost in thought; upon snapping back, he patted his nephew's head and replied offhandedly: "What do you mean 'scholars are one thing'? His Majesty allows the newspapers to operate freely precisely to invite the whole realm to join this spectacle."

"Look along our journey—scholars from Nanzhili, Shandong Province, all are discussing and debating this very issue."

"It's been years since we've seen such a grand event—this is what true flourishing looks like."

"As for the barbarians…"

He shook his head: "There's a word for it: inconceivable."

"Xue Xue Yingqi is a great Confucian of this age; Li Zhi is among the most brilliant minds of the Taizhou School today. Their debate is beyond the comprehension of barbarians."

Li Li Sicheng, fifteen years old and still spirited, chimed in playfully: "If it's inconceivable, then it invites wild thoughts."

"Otherwise, how could they have mustered the nerve to argue, only to be red-faced and silenced by those few scholars?"

Li Maonian chuckled, then asked curiously: "Aren't you supporting Li Zhi? Why didn't you speak up to aid that stammering Korean barbarian just now?"

Bringing the child along was meant to broaden his horizons.

Debate, whether for courage or eloquence, is beneficial.

Li Li Sicheng's face fell at his uncle's question: "Uncle, you saw the scene yourself—Master Xue's argument this time was devastatingly sharp; those scholars seized upon it and pressed their case like a bamboo shoot splitting open."

"I wanted to defend Master Li, but my learning is shallow—I barely understood what was said, so I could only fall silent."

Li Maonian laughed.

His nephew was still young, not a prodigy like the Emperor, Zhang Zhang Juzheng, or Shen Shen Shixing—this was perfectly normal.

He explained patiently: "Last time, Xue Xue Yingqi argued about heavenly principle and human morality, and Li Zhi found a flaw; then Li Zhi began to examine the essence of human nature—whether it is a priori, or rather, whether it is innate."

"He subjected Mencius's theory of innate goodness and Xunzi's theory of innate evil to rigorous scrutiny."

"At its core, he sought to overturn the foundational doctrine of innate essence."

Here, Li Maonian could not help but marvel at Li Zhi's audacity.

He continued: "But Xue Xue Yingqi, as a great Confucian of this age, with deep scholarly roots, immediately responded."

"The gentleman's nature, though he thrives, adds nothing; though he suffers, loses nothing—it is fixed by destiny. The gentleman's nature, benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, take root in the heart; their expression is pure, visible on the face, radiant on the back, manifest in all limbs—without a word, the limbs themselves convey it."

"He used Mencius's view to argue that 'human nature' is merely a metaphor for 'nature'—Li Zhi's claims are partial and incomplete."

"'Human nature' is manifested through the body or behavior, yet it is not simply 'contained within' or 'causally dependent' upon 'nature.'"

"To discuss 'nature' through postnatal environment only explains its causal emergence, not its ontological origin."

"Instead, one must recognize that concrete human beings possess 'nature' innately; what we call 'human nature' is merely its outward expression, belonging to the postnatal."

"The phrase 'illuminating the mind and seeing one's nature' means precisely this."

"Innate and postnatal, from beginning to end, are always divided: nature must be innate."

Li Maonian condensed the two men's lengthy arguments into plain language to explain the recent doctrinal debate to his nephew.

Li Li Sicheng listened, thoughtful.

He looked curiously at Li Maonian: "Then, Uncle, who do you think is right?"

Li Maonian shook his head: "There's no right or wrong here—it's simply a matter of whose scholarship runs deeper. I can't say for sure."

The two uncles and nephew were about to continue speaking.

Then, a sudden snore echoed inside the carriage.

The uncle and nephew turned simultaneously toward Li Li Chunfang.

Their own father and grandfather was slumped sideways, mouth open, fast asleep!

Li Maonian hurried forward and straightened his father's head—the physician had warned that elderly people sleeping with their necks bent risk never waking.

At the touch, Li Li Chunfang instinctively shuddered.

Then he opened his bleary eyes and sat up straight.

Li Li Chunfang blinked hard to clear his mind.

Seeing his son and grandson watching him, he smiled gently and explained: "I didn't sleep well last night—I'm just tired."

Li Li Chunfang's party was traveling to Beijing—traveling was exhausting, and fatigue was normal.

Especially given Li Li Chunfang's status—he could not enter Beijing at will; even retired high officials were ordered in their imperial decree: "Do not linger in the capital."

This was to prevent powerful ministers, after retirement, from scheming behind the scenes.

But Li Li Chunfang's reason for entering Beijing this time was legitimate and approved—he was visiting family.

Li Baiyang had been appointed as a Selected Attendant; the family's request to visit the capital was naturally granted.

Being permitted to enter Beijing was good, but it also meant their journey was open to official scrutiny.

The relay stations were crude and sleep was poor, and the carriage could not be the luxurious one they usually used—it was painfully uncomfortable.

Li Maonian grumbled for once: "If we'd taken the water route, Father would have been far more comfortable."

He then pulled a silk quilt from beneath his seat and handed it to the awakened Li Li Chunfang: "Father, if you're tired, just lie down and sleep."

To appear frugal, they had not hired a fine carriage, and sleeping meant curling up tightly.

Li Li Chunfang lifted the carriage curtain, glanced at their location, then pushed the quilt back: "We're nearly in Beijing—I won't sleep."

Then he replied to Li Maonian's complaint: "Didn't I say? I haven't left home in years—I want to see the suffering of the people in each prefecture and county along the way."

Li Maonian retracted the quilt.

He bluntly exposed his father: "You never inspected the people's hardships on past trips."

Li Li Chunfang shook his head.

His son was merely average; after much thought, he decided to explain.

He spoke gently and patiently: "This is different."

"Before, I was a minister, merely managing a small patch of the Grand Secretariat—enough to preserve the greater good."

"Now…"

"Baiyang has become a Selected Attendant. If I don't see with my own eyes the fate of the Zhu family, how can I rest easy?"

Inside the carriage, the three generations spoke without restraint.

To speak bluntly: though he had once been a Grand Secretary entrusted with the empire's hopes, he had always merely served the Emperor—Great Ming's fate had little to do with him.

If Great Ming fell, the scholar-gentry of Jiangnan would still be wealthy landowners.

But now that he favored the Emperor and had sent his granddaughter into the palace, he could no longer ignore Great Ming's fate.

Li Maonian opened his mouth but fell silent.

He finally understood why his father endured this grueling journey.

He felt guilty for his earlier complaint and did not know how to respond.

Fortunately, his nephew Li Li Sicheng asked curiously: "Then, Grandfather, after seeing everything on the way, what do you think of our dynasty's fate?"

Unlike his father's detached perspective, Li Li Sicheng, young and still loyal, spoke of "our dynasty" without hesitation.

Li Li Chunfang's expression grew grave: "Compared to when I served in court, the overall situation has improved slightly—but only slightly."

"The deterioration of the realm's condition has slowed—but it still deteriorates."

Though Li Li Chunfang did not know the term "second derivative," he used it effortlessly.

"The trend of land consolidation grows ever more severe."

"Especially in prefectures and counties plagued by natural disasters and human calamities these past two years—cities and villages lie desolate, fields overgrown with weeds!"

"The people's suffering is plain to see."

"Shandong and Two Huai-Si are better—the displaced mostly beg along roadsides; at worst, they become bandits, raiding granaries or killing county magistrates."

"But I hear the White Lotus, Wuwei, and Luo sects in Henan and Shanxi are growing ever bolder—deceiving and gathering followers, they have become as prominent as Buddhism and Daoism among the common people!"

"Yet local officials turn a blind eye."

"Even a White Lotus fugitive named Ma Shulin, carrying men and women, fled from Yan'an to Xuanfu, traveling thousands of miles!"

"He armed himself, rode horses, sold weapons, and recruited nearly a thousand people for blessings and medicine—how many checkpoints he passed undetected, no one knows—why has no one questioned him?"

"The laxity of officialdom is evident."

"Moreover, reviewing the prefectural and county annals along the way…"

"These past two years have seen an explosion of omens—earthquakes, freezing disasters, locust plagues, floods—more than double the frequency of the Emperor Jiajing era!"

"Especially the freezing disasters—just yesterday, a merchant mentioned that this winter, snow reportedly fell even in Hainan!"

"Hainan!"

"Add to that palace fires, daylight rainbows… celestial portents abound—I cannot rest easy."

Li Maonian, watching his father's worried expression, nearly blurted: "But Father, how did you rest easy when you were in the Grand Secretariat?"

Then he remembered Li Li Chunfang's explanation and bit his tongue.

Li Li Sicheng, blunt and direct, looked horrified after hearing his grandfather: "Are you saying Great Ming is about to fall?"

Li Li Chunfang shook his head: "Not that soon."

"Whether the Performance Evaluation Law or the reorganization of the Beijing garrison, the Emperor and the Grand Secretariat are strengthening the core."

"As for how much fate Great Ming still holds—it depends on how the branches are pruned."

Tax reform and land surveying are the two elephants in the room for the Grand Secretariat.

Aside from Gao Gong and Zhang Zhang Juzheng, every other Grand Secretary has ignored them.

Even Li Li Chunfang himself, when he saw them, had avoided them at all costs.

Now that he had shed his burdens, he finally spoke from the Emperor's perspective, voicing his true thoughts.

Li Li Sicheng nodded vaguely, not quite understanding.

Li Maonian, standing nearby, couldn't help interjecting: "With His Majesty's skill and capability, things will gradually improve."

This was his own view, not mere consolation.

After all, his own daughter was still in the palace.

Li Li Chunfang smiled and nodded in deep agreement.

This was precisely why he had bet on the Emperor.

At least the dragon throne held someone capable and willing to act.

If this Emperor, like Shizong and the late Emperor, turned a blind eye to the dynasty's accumulated rot and calmly awaited its collapse, then Li Li Chunfang wouldn't even consider letting his granddaughter enter the palace—let alone let the Emperor become his son-in-law.

The topic grew heavy.

Li Li Chunfang was a good patriarch, and his household valued harmony, so he deliberately changed the subject: "Wang Wang Shizhen's new novel, The Heroes of Yuan and Ming, pales far beside The Plum in the Golden Vase—it actually put me to sleep. Truly unworthy of a man."

Saying this, he handed the newspaper to his son and gestured for him to put it away.

Li Li Sicheng, beside him, asked in confusion: "Grandfather, how do you know this novel was written by Lord Wang? I heard His Majesty summoned Xu Xu Shaohu to court—perhaps he's the one writing these stories for amusement."

Xu Jie, the Qingci Chancellor, had been summoned back to the capital again, yet given no official post—this business of pleasing with literature fit him perfectly.

Li Li Chunfang smiled at his grandson's searching gaze: "This is called literary style—you'll understand when you're older."

Literary style cannot be perceived without sufficient depth of experience.

Li Li Sicheng made a dismissive sound, dissatisfied with his grandfather's evasiveness, and asked: "Then Grandfather, who wrote Journey to the West?"

At this, Li Li Chunfang's face, wrinkled with laughter, suddenly stiffened.

He mumbled: "I'm not very familiar with that literary style."

Li Li Sicheng grunted, clearly feeling he had gained the upper hand.

Li Maonian couldn't help sneaking a chuckle.

He didn't know who wrote Journey to the West, but he was certain his father had proofread it—the pseudonym "Master of Huayang Cave Heaven" clearly came from his father's youth, when he studied there.

Li Li Chunfang idly pulled back the carriage curtain and gazed out the window.

He had met Wu Cheng'en in the twentieth year of Emperor Jiajing—they had been old friends for years.

But since the forty-third year of Emperor Jiajing, when he helped Wu Cheng'en secure the post of County Deputy of Changxing in Zhejiang, they had never met again.

How had the Emperor even learned that he had proofread a novel called Journey to the West? And why had he sent someone specifically to request it?

He couldn't figure it out. He just couldn't figure it out.

Li Li Chunfang shook his head, swaying with the jolts of the carriage.

……

"Eh! I passed! I passed!"

Upon saying this, the scholar who had come to check the list—no, he was now a Gongsheng—overjoyed to the point of collapse, toppled straight backward.

The retainers sent to snatch a son-in-law didn't care if he fainted—they surged forward en masse.

Some grabbed his arms, others his legs, dragging him toward their own mansions.

This caused a commotion among the crowd.

"Passed? Passed? That dog passed! It makes me furious!"

Clearly, he had failed.

Others remained silent and walked away; some leaned against walls, pounding their chests and weeping; others muttered deliriously.

Truly, the full spectrum of human emotion on the day the Metropolitan Examination results were posted.

Li Kun, with dark circles under his eyes, watched these unrestrained, undignified figures and shook his head.

He had been too anxious last night, tossing and turning, unable to sleep—so he overslept and only now arrived to check the list.

Li Kun pushed straight into the crowd, forcing his way to the front of the ranking list.

He strained his head out from beneath someone's armpit, eyes locked onto the four posted lists.

Top one hundred…

Hm?

He spotted a name he recognized but didn't know well.

Li Sancai, ranked thirty-sixth in the Metropolitan Examination.

Li Kun sighed. No wonder—he was a child of heaven.

Born into an official family, well-connected, trained under renowned masters, outstanding in appearance, skilled at forming factions—he had every advantage.

Now, at just twenty-three, he had passed the Tong Jinshi examination.

At twenty-three… he was already guaranteed the position of Shujishi.

Even Li Kun, who prided himself on being honest and humble, felt a momentary pang of imbalance.

He shook his head, shoved aside the foul-smelling armpit in front of him, and continued scanning downward.

Li Du, ranked one hundred and seventh in the Metropolitan Examination.

Li Kun felt even more aggrieved.

Even someone who treated the exam as a game passed—how could people be so unfair?

But since he knew Li Du fairly well, he muttered a quiet complaint and moved on to the next list.

Wan Jing, ranked one hundred and ninety-fourth in the Metropolitan Examination.

Wasn't this the grandson of Minister Wan of the Ministry of Works? Li Kun couldn't help taking a second look.

Hadn't someone just said Wan Jing had insulted the Emperor and would surely fail?

Now it seemed the Emperor's heart was far broader than the rumors claimed—Li Kun silently praised the Emperor in his mind.

His mind wandered, trying to ease the pressure of still not finding his own name halfway through the list.

Li Kun turned to the third list, scanning meticulously from top to bottom…

His face suddenly lit up with surprise.

"Hey! Well, I passed!"

Li Kun straightened up, pointed at his own name, and burst into laughter: "I passed! I passed!"

He didn't care whether anyone knew him—he thrust out his waist and shouted it four or five times.

Then he clenched his fist and swung it upward into the empty air, muttering: "That fortune-teller swore I'd never pass until I was forty. Hmph! I passed at thirty-nine!"

His outburst immediately drew a crowd of Squires and elders.

"Young Master! Are you married?"

"Gongsheng Sir! My daughter is gentle and virtuous, and quite lovely…"

"I am from the Guanglu Temple…"

Li Kun suppressed his impatience and bowed apologetically: "Gentlemen, I appreciate your kindness, truly—I'm honored, but no, thank you."

Come on, look at his scruffy beard—he was old enough that his son was nearly as tall as he was.

Saying this, he shoved through the crowd and slipped away.

The Metropolitan Examination was over—now came the Palace Examination.

Though no one would be eliminated, rankings would be reordered.

If he could be named Zhuangyuan by the Emperor… well, that was impossible.

But even a high ranking would do—he was thirty-nine, just shy of the forty-year threshold for Shujishi.

A Second Class Tong Jinshi had far more opportunity than a Third Class Tong Jinshi.

Thinking this, Li Kun hummed softly.

Finally… he was one step closer to changing his surname.

The posting of results was not merely a spectacle at the list.

There were gatherings of Guozijian students, merchants offering promotions, wealthy families throwing silver coins into the streets, and the desperate, defeated seeking death.

On his way back, Li Kun encountered constant bustle and amusing incidents.

"Is that Gongsheng Master Li?"

A voice called out beside him—the unfamiliar title took him a moment to process, since everyone he knew called him Lü.

After a moment, he turned around slowly.

There stood a servant, panting, bluntly stating his purpose: "Master Li, my lord, Lord Yanzhou, is hosting a literary gathering on the tenth day of the third month, and has sent me to invite you."

Saying this, he handed Li Kun an invitation.

Li Kun took it instinctively, frowning: "Wasn't it open to all who wished to attend? Why are invitations being sent out now?"

He knew Wang Wang Shizhen held literary gatherings—he'd been promoting them since the end of last year.

But no date had been set, and no threshold had been mentioned.

If this was now becoming a closed, exclusive affair with invitations, he'd have to reconsider attending.

Seeing his hesitation, the servant pulled Li Kun aside and lowered his voice to a whisper: "Master Li, forgive me—we hadn't finalized the arrangements until now."

"Those without invitations may attend the outer grounds."

"Those receiving invitations are seated inside—the inner hall, with seats—only a few dozen people, all major figures."

"For instance, Master Xu Jie, Master Li Zhi, Master Qian Qian Dehong, Master Wang Ji, Master Xue Xue Yingqi, several from the Kong family…"

"It shows how highly we regard you, Master Li!"

Li Kun looked skeptical.

No—he knew exactly what kind of nobody he was.

Don't even speak of standing alongside these figures—he wouldn't even be accepted as a disciple by any of them!

He frowned and asked, "You've probably mistaken me for someone else. I'm just an obscure nobody, unworthy of such courtesy from a prince."

The servant quickly explained, "You're more than worthy, you're more than worthy! We've already invited many young talents—Master Gu of Wuxi Prefecture, Master Li of Tongzhou Prefecture, Master Yu of the National Academy—all have gone."

After saying this, he lowered his voice again: "Moreover, the master said you must be brought—your invitation came directly from a high lord above."

Li Kun was stunned: "A high lord? How high?"

The servant made a small gesture: "The master said, as tall as three palace halls."

…

"March 10th?"

Qian Qian Dehong, lying ill in bed, weakly held a summons and asked.

Wang Ji stroked his beard and nodded: "With Qingming approaching, the rain drizzles endlessly—the Imperial Astronomical Bureau says it should clear by the 10th."

He added a dry jab: "Wang Wang Shizhen is considering your old bones."

Qian Qian Dehong sneered: "Brother, you jest. My bones may be old, but they're still hard enough—I might even have to bury you."

He spoke bravely, then burst into another cough.

Wang Ji stepped forward to pat Qian Qian Dehong's back, softening his tone: "Then you'll need to live many more years to outlast me."

He tossed the summons onto Qian Qian Dehong's bed: "I can't fathom where Wang Wang Shizhen got the nerve to insert himself into this debate—does he truly believe his title as literary leader was earned through mastery of the classics?"

"If it weren't for Xu Jie's personal invitation, I wouldn't have given him the time of day."

Qian Qian Dehong picked up the summons, opened it, and mused: "He's probably envious of Li Zhi's rising prestige."

"But for Xu Jie to come himself—that's odd."

Li Zhi and Xue Xue Yingqi debated, each winning and losing, yet both riding equally high in fame.

In Xu Jie's own words:

Li Zhi combines Heart, Principle, Buddhism, and Daoism, then carves his own path—a grand highway—worthy of calling sages his teachers and founding his own school.

Yet he lacks refinement, riddled with errors, hence the old scholars revere him but keep their distance.

Xue Xue Yingqi is the true heir of Wang Wang Yangming, orthodox in Principle Learning, thoroughly versed in both traditions—his foundation is deep, his presence grand and upright.

Alas, a hundred-legged insect nearing death—so the young students discard him like trash.

The old scholars wield great power and deep roots.

The young students have strong expressive drive and know how to stir up momentum.

When Gu Assistant County Magistrate once spread false rumors about Li Zhi, eggs were thrown into his courtyard that very night, and someone openly threatened to beat him.

Gu Assistant County Magistrate was so frightened he stopped writing his little essays.

With such momentum, Wang Wang Shizhen—who rose on fame-seeking—must be the most envious.

His trying to insert himself fits his nature perfectly.

Wang Ji seemed to accept this explanation and dropped the matter: "It's not surprising Xu Jie invited us—after all, both of them write green-charm poems for the Emperor; sticking together for mutual support is only natural."

"Better to think now how we'll handle Li Zhi."

Speaking of Li Zhi,

Qian Qian Dehong couldn't help but cough again.

After a long pause, he sighed: "That man… is truly hard to deal with."

"On the surface, he manipulates hearts with universal morality—especially when he speaks of fairness and progress, too many scholars are swayed."

"On a deeper level, he can spar with Xue Xue Yingqi, back and forth—his insights into the fundamental nature grow deeper with every exchange, even startling me."

Wang Ji's expression didn't change: "I'll take the stage then. This is the perfect chance to spread Wang Learning and elevate Master Wang into the Imperial Ancestral Temple."

Hearing this, Qian Qian Dehong, though ideologically opposed to Wang Ji, fell silent without rebuttal.

The two of them, as direct disciples of Wang Wang Yangming, were teaching masters, known as the Three Masters and Seven Witnesses.

If their Master were truly enshrined in the Confucian Temple, granted divine status, they would become the second Yan Hui.

Sages.

Qian Qian Dehong suddenly warned: "I fear the Emperor might interfere—I've heard he may come himself…"

Wang Ji gave no reply: "Without sufficient mastery of the classics, one has no voice in such a setting."

"In Confucian debate, secular power has no place."

(End of Chapter)