Chapter 423 - Scholars

The gatekeeper was a decrepit old doorman, sweeping the ground in front of Minglun Hall. Nowadays, only the Lingxing Gate and the area before Minglun Hall still looked somewhat presentable. The courtyard appeared clean and tidy, but the roof of Minglun Hall was already covered with thatch, and there were even small trees growing lush and green upon it.

The doors and windows of Jinde Study Hall and Xiuye Study Hall were all closed; the sound of students reciting hadn't been heard for a long time. Wang Ci's "office" was in the three halls behind Minglun Hall, which served as both his workplace and residence. The grass in the courtyard grew knee-deep, with foxes and rats coming and going.

Wang Ci was from Luoyang, Henan. He had failed the examinations repeatedly. Only in his forties did he receive the status of a "suigong student"—the so-called suigong, also called "waiting for tribute" by the ancients, was when a xiucai who had been a stipend student for a long time while continuously failing the provincial examination could, upon reaching a certain age, be granted suigong status, thus qualifying to become an official. This was still considered the orthodox path of the imperial examination, but it ranked a grade lower even than Wu Mingjin's "Major Selection of Provincial Graduates," and could result only in minor positions like Deputy County Magistrate, Assistant Instructor, or Educational Director.

Wang Ci had thus been appointed to the position of Lingao Educational Director. The Educational Director was a sinecure with an extremely meager salary, and unlike the county magistrate, he couldn't bring his family. He had brought only one servant named Wang An to care for his daily needs.

Though the furniture in the room was somewhat worn, under Wang An's daily cleaning and management, it was kept clean and tidy.

Wang Ci flopped down onto a bamboo couch and drank several gulps of the cold tea prepared on the table. Wang An wasn't in the room—probably off somewhere finding extra work again. The Educational Director's salary was truly pitiful. Lingao was an extremely small county without a strong literary tradition, and the county school's Educational Director had no sources of extra income. Life for Wang Ci and his servant had become truly difficult.

Wang Ci had heard that his servant had recently found some kind of job and could earn a few coins each month to supplement the household. He hadn't thought much of it before, but today he became suddenly alert—could Wang An be working for the Australians?

The more he considered it, the more possible it seemed. In this Lingao city, the only ones who always had work available were the Kun! He resolved that when Wang An returned, he would question him properly. If he really was working for the Kun, he'd better tell him to stop. These people were skilled at bewitching minds; he shouldn't let Wang An be led astray too.

Thinking of the Australians, Wang Ci could only sigh. Their educational efforts had dealt him a tremendous shock. Lu Da's retort had left him speechless—"No discrimination in education"—could he live up to that? The Australians were the ones truly practicing it.

It was just that what the Australians taught without discrimination was not the Four Books and Five Classics he knew. Even the writing style was different. If this continued, wouldn't they produce a generation of "Australian scholars"?

Wang Ci was not a pedantic Confucian. When he had approached Wu Nanhai for help with the school lands, he had chosen them precisely for their practical knowledge and ability to apply learning to reality. He hadn't expected the Australians to be so ambitious—not only recklessly using simplified characters but also changing the writing format and even creating some "phonetic letters"! For him, this was simply unbearable.

He had to think of a way. He couldn't let them continue this chaos of transforming Chinese into barbarians!

Wang Ci was racking his brain for ideas when the doorman of the county school suddenly ran in, shouting:

"Master Wang! Master Wang!"

"What is it? What is all this panic? Where's your composure!" Wang Ci waved the patched sleeve of his Confucian robe with great dignity and picked up the chipped tea cup.

The doorman panted: "The Short—the Australians have come to visit!"

"Ah?!" Wang Ci's hand trembled, spilling tea on his lapel.

"Is it Master Wu?" Perhaps Master Wu, who managed the school lands, had come to discuss something.

"It's not Master Wu—it's Master Xiong." Xiong Buyou, because of his position in the Foreign Business Committee, was specifically responsible for dealing with the county yamen. Nearly every yamen runner and subordinate in the county knew him.

This Australian Master Xiong had never come to his place before. Wang Ci found it strange. What business could he have at the county school for no reason? He couldn't sell land here, nor did he have yamen runners to dispatch. It was the coldest of cold sinecures. What did the Australians see in it?

Could it be that his conversation with Lu Da earlier had already been reported to the Kun, and this Master Xiong was here to find fault? At this thought, Educational Director Wang grew alarmed. He was just a scholar. Even if the other side didn't bring soldiers, in a one-on-one confrontation, given his physique, he would certainly be at a disadvantage. Being beaten was one thing; losing his scholarly dignity was another.

"Tell him that the master is—hmm—not here."

"Well," the doorman said awkwardly, "Master Xiong knows you're here—"

"Did he bring people?"

"He brought two attendants." Seeing that the Educational Director was very alarmed, the doorman quickly added, "Master Xiong also brought gifts and speaks very politely."

Wang Ci let out a sigh of relief. Bringing gifts didn't sound like coming for a confrontation. "Invite him in, invite him in."

Xiong Buyou openly brought his attendants and gifts into the hall. He offered a simple bow and gave his name. He had no official title—the ancients couldn't make sense of the "committee member" designations the Crossing Group used anyway.

Wang Ci studied the man before him: tall and sturdy, wearing the Kun' button-down jacket with a canvas belt around his waist and a green cloth satchel slung diagonally across his back. A machete hung from his waist. Though he didn't know Xiong Buyou personally, he had long heard of him. Word had it that last year this man had swaggered into the city with several hundred pirate heads and met with Magistrate Wu at the county yamen. Since then, he was constantly heard going in and out of the yamen as a major figure handling the Kun' external communications.

"This student is Wang Ci. May I ask what instruction Chief Xiong has for visiting here?" Wang Ci feigned calm and cupped his hands.

"So you're the Educational Director?"

"That is this student." Wang Ci responded carefully.

"I'm really sorry we've neglected you these past days, haha." Xiong Buyou smiled and looked around. "I didn't expect conditions here to be so poor!"

"The ancients said, living in a humble room..."

"We'll discuss the ancients' matters later. Let's talk about present matters first." Xiong Buyou got straight to the point. "I heard Educational Director Wang traveled far today?"

"That's correct. One of my students passed away yesterday. Out of the bond between teacher and student, I had to pay my respects in person." Wang Ci heard this was the question and answered openly.

"I heard your esteemed student met an untimely end, leaving behind a widow and orphans in difficult circumstances?"

Even this he knew. The Kun were remarkably well-informed. Wang Ci nodded and sighed: "Indeed. He left behind a widow and three children. Without the pillar of the family, who knows what will become of them. The school and his fellow students pooled some condolence money, so for now they should be able to manage."

As for what would happen in the future, Wang Ci didn't even want to contemplate it. This family had some meager property, and before the deceased's body was even cold, clansmen were already eyeing it, planning to seize it. A family of widow and orphans was bound to suffer. As a minor Educational Director and an outsider, he couldn't help at all.

"This is a small token of our regard." Xiong Buyou extracted a white paper package from his bag. "Please pass it on, Educational Director Wang."

Wang Ci was stunned. What was this from the Kun? Could this xiucai have had dealings with them? He had never heard of it. Why send condolence money to complete strangers?

"How can this be?" Wang Ci thought the money highly questionable and absolutely couldn't be accepted. He shook both hands vigorously. "First, we're complete strangers. Second, it would harm one's reputation—"

"So the Educational Director still considers us 'bandits'?"

Wang Ci realized he had spoken his true thoughts and hurriedly explained: "No, no, what I mean is: your side and my student were complete strangers. Now there's a widow and orphans. Sending condolence money might—might invite criticism and damage their good name. Please think twice, Chief."

These words were fairly appropriate. Xiong Buyou didn't pursue it further, but he didn't take back the paper package either.

"This isn't just my personal intention; it represents the entire Australian Group. Since we've taken up residence in Lingao, this is also our hometown. This is doing our part for the scholars of our hometown. Please don't refuse, Educational Director."

His tone was quite firm. Wang Ci originally wanted to storm off in indignation to demonstrate the moral backbone of a Ming literatus, but seeing Xiong Buyou's fierce eyes and the machete at his waist, he nodded slightly:

"I'll accept this kindness on her behalf." Whatever the case, this was a good deed. Besides, he couldn't see what the Kun could possibly use this widow and orphans for.

Xiong Buyou watched this sour scholar finally accept after much dithering and felt contempt inside. He had been prepared to be righteously scolded by the Educational Director. He hadn't expected the so-called "moral backbone of scholars" to amount to just this.

"This condolence money is 300 Yuan in Circulation Vouchers," Xiong Buyou pointed to the paper package. "After the mourning period, there will be an additional monthly subsidy of 50 Yuan. Though meager, it should be enough to maintain their livelihood."

Wang Ci was momentarily stunned. A monthly subsidy too?! His mind couldn't process it for a moment, and he froze.

"Educational Director Wang!" Xiong Buyou called out when he saw him daze off.

"Ah? Oh, yes, yes." Wang Ci's feelings became very complex—both pleased and uneasy. Pleased because with this money, the xiucai's family wouldn't starve or freeze, and the clansmen eyeing the meager property, seeing the Australians' involvement, wouldn't dare act rashly. This was a tremendous kindness for the family.

Uneasy because the Kun' intentions were transparently obvious. In the past, they had shown favor to ignorant common folk in the countryside. Then they had co-opted the officials in the county yamen. Now their hand was reaching toward the scholars. Step by step, meticulous planning, calculating everything—it truly deserved the phrase "their hearts are punishable."

Wang Ci now felt that handing the school lands over to the Australians to farm had been a mistake. When autumn came and they could distribute money and grain to the stipend students, wouldn't everyone know this was the Kun' doing? Thinking of this, Wang Ci was filled with regret. He had truly been shortsighted. For some money and grain, he had allowed the Kun to get their foot in the door.

Xiong Buyou observed this Educational Director's face turning blue and red and had no idea what he was thinking. In truth, Wang Ci was overestimating his own importance. According to the Executive Committee's long-term plan, cultivating local intellectuals would have proceeded regardless. Whether or not the school land matter existed, Lingao's scholars wouldn't escape.

(End of Chapter)