Chapter 424 - Moli Xuan Work

Wang Ci found he couldn't refuse. Reasoning that regardless of the Kun' intentions, the aid would ultimately benefit this family, he stood and said: "This student will thank you on their behalf." With that, he made a deep bow.

"Hehe, no need for ceremony." Xiong Buyou watched his attitude soften and estimated the plan had a seventy or eighty percent chance of success. Of course, whether or not this sour scholar agreed wouldn't affect the final outcome, but with his participation, things would proceed more smoothly. The work of cultivating native intellectuals would benefit from the County Educational Director's assistance.

The Executive Committee had originally not placed much importance on native intellectuals. Their own knowledge structure and systems far surpassed any scientist in this space-time, whether Chinese or foreign. These petty intellectuals who only knew a few books of the Four Books and Five Classics, in the Transmigrators' view, were valuable only for being literate.

But over time, social feedback continuously collected through their work made the Executive Committee revise their view somewhat. After all, no matter how poor and destitute intellectuals became, they were theoretically people who possessed knowledge and served as reserve forces for the bureaucratic system. So they still enjoyed considerable status and reputation in society.

Thus, native intellectuals were elevated from usable human resources to a class requiring focused cultivation. In an ancient society lacking knowledge and plagued by extremely high illiteracy rates, educated people held not only discourse power but also the power to judge right and wrong. The attitude and allegiance of this group could influence many ordinary commoners.

Additionally, from the incomplete lists of students and tongsheng they had collected, besides some poor scholars from common and small households, many were actually sons of gentry and landlords. Winning them over also meant indirectly winning over the local gentry class.

Therefore, the Foreign Business Committee began a special project to cultivate all the scholars in the county—codenamed "Moli Xuan" Work. Besides students, provincial graduates, and jinshi, tongsheng without official rank were also included in the plan.

After a period of investigation and research, the Foreign Business Committee had basically grasped the entire cultural situation of Lingao.

Overall, the level was extremely low.

Of course, this "extremely low" was said in the context of the Ming Dynasty as a whole. Speaking of Hainan Island itself, Lingao's cultural development was actually among the top in Qiongzhou Prefecture. After all, Lingao was also a county with a thousand years of history; there had been some accumulation.

But because the population was sparse, the proportion of scholars in the county was correspondingly low. The whole county had about thirty students, and tongsheng who had registered at the county school and taken the county examination numbered around sixty or seventy.

The number of students in a county had a fixed quota. The most valuable were naturally the stipend students, who could receive six dou of rice each month. Generally, large counties had thirty, small counties twenty. Lingao's stipend student quota was twenty. Besides stipend students, there were extra quotas like increased students and attached students, but these received no subsidies. In areas with strong literary traditions, there were many such people, but in Lingao there were only a paltry ten or so.

The county's finances were difficult, and income from the school lands was almost nonexistent. Even the stipend students couldn't get their rice for years on end, let alone the others. Of course, quite a few scholars came from comfortable family circumstances and didn't care about this little bit of money and rice, but for the poorer ones, life was very hard.

After basically grasping the situation, they happened to encounter Wang Ci's request for the Tiandihui to help farm the school lands. The Foreign Business Committee recognized this as an excellent opportunity to establish a foothold in Lingao's education.

Xiong Buyou stood up and walked around the hall, then gazed at the desolate state of the courtyard from the veranda, shaking his head. "I didn't expect this county school and Confucian temple to have fallen into such disrepair!"

Wang Ci's face reddened. "It's all this student's incompetence..."

"This can't be blamed on you," Xiong Buyou said casually. "The county hasn't given you a single coin or grain of rice for years. To have held on to this point is already remarkable. For Lingao's cultural atmosphere, Educational Director Wang truly deserves to be called wholeheartedly devoted and exhausting oneself!"

Hearing these words from a Kun's mouth, Wang Ci's eyes almost reddened.

Heaven have mercy! he thought. Ever since I came to this remote southern county of Lingao as Educational Director, not a day has passed without me running about. I've thought of every possible method, going everywhere to solicit donations from the gentry, wearing out several pairs of shoes, being robbed by bandits and almost losing my life, encountering a hurricane by the sea and nearly being buried in the fish's belly, seeing enough of the gentry's cold faces—barely maintaining things until now. The county magistrate only says "you've worked hard" and nothing more. Who would have thought that these Australians, who've only arrived a little over a year ago, could see things so clearly? Suddenly he felt a great sense of having found kindred spirits.

"I don't deserve such praise." Wang Ci calmed his emotions. "Since I've taken on this county's Educational Directorship, I must put in the effort." He sighed. "I only seek a clear conscience."

"Well said—'only seeking a clear conscience'!" Xiong Buyou saw from his expression that this bowl of flattery had been effective. Before coming, they had discussed what approach would move Educational Director Wang. After deliberation, they had settled on this method as most likely to scratch his itch. Trying it, it proved effective indeed.

He then deliberately sighed: "If only all of the Great Ming's officials could live up to 'a clear conscience,' that would be wonderful!"

These words carried a flavor of criticizing current affairs. Though Wang Ci was just a minor Educational Director, he was no frog at the bottom of a well. What he had seen and heard on the way to take up his post and while in office, combined with correspondence from friends and classmates at home, made him feel the situation was declining day by day. He was unwilling to comment on such matters in front of a Kun, so he simply kept silent and only sighed.

Xiong Buyou sensed the moment was right. "I see Moli Xuan next to the county school has become so dilapidated. If it's not repaired, I'm afraid it will collapse. This piece of Lingao's literary history will be lost..."

"How could I not want to renovate it?" Wang Ci had been worried about this too. He wasn't a native of Lingao County, but if this important relic of Lingao's literary world was destroyed during his tenure, what would the county gazetteer write about him a hundred years from now? The thought kept him awake at night.

"I've also asked the county magistrate, but the county granaries are empty with no extra money or rice. Even if I conscript a few civilian laborers to do the work, I still have to feed them. Besides, carpenters and bricklayers won't come just for food." Wang Ci was at his wits' end. Repairing a building wasn't a small sum—hiring workers, buying timber, bricks, tiles, and lime meant enormous expenses.

"Since the county has no money, we can help repair Moli Xuan." Xiong Buyou seized the opportunity to make his proposal.

"You will repair it?" Wang Ci looked at him in surprise. What were the Kun scheming? Helping repair buildings for no apparent reason—what benefit was there for them?

"Exactly. Not just Moli Xuan, but here too." Xiong Buyou pointed outside. "Your Confucian temple and county school also need proper repairs. Otherwise, it's really an eyesore."

"This—" Wang Ci was momentarily confused, murmuring, "This, I don't deserve this, I don't deserve this."

"Hey, what's this about not deserving it? As I said: since we've settled down in Lingao, this is our hometown. What's wrong with repairing the Confucian temple and county school for our hometown? It's called benefiting our fellow countrymen, hahaha."

Wang Ci couldn't think of any rebuttal to this somewhat specious argument for the moment, but he instinctively felt this was a weasel paying respects to a chicken. It definitely concealed some scheme.

"Alright, the matter is settled. Just wait for the good news." Xiong Buyou didn't wait for him to respond. He stood, cupped his hands, and departed.

"Hey—hey—please stay—" Wang Ci felt something wasn't right and wanted to discuss it further, but how could his footsteps match Xiong Buyou's? Chasing out of the room, Xiong Buyou had already exited the courtyard gate.

Helpless, he had to return to his room first, thinking it would be best to report this to the county magistrate. Otherwise, he would be acting arbitrarily, and if something went wrong, it could be serious.

"Master—" the doorman appeared again.

"What is it?!"

"Master Xiong left two chests of gifts behind. Shall I have them brought in?"

"Gifts?"

"Yes, here's the gift list." The doorman presented the list.

Wang Ci opened it and saw six items listed: 300 large jin of brown rice, two jars of fruit syrup wine, 1,000 sheets of fine white paper, 100 various brushes, 100 sticks of pine-soot ink, and 50 books. The rice was substituted with an equivalent amount of Circulation Vouchers.

The gifts weren't especially valuable but were very practical. Except for the wine, all could be used to help impoverished scholars. Lingao had no papermaking, brush-making, ink-making, or printing. Brushes, ink, paper, inkstones, and books all had to be transported from the prefectural capital. The journey was long, so prices were naturally high, creating a significant burden for scholars.

"There are also books?" Wang Ci was puzzled. Could they think he, like the mud-legs, would want those books full of simplified characters with incoherent writing?

"Yes, there's a whole chest."

"Throw them away!" Wang Ci said without hesitation. "No—take them to burn as firewood!"

"Ah?" The doorman was illiterate but knew how precious books were locally. "Master, this—"

"Burn them when I tell you to burn them."

"Yes, Master." The doorman withdrew.

Wang Ci hurriedly got properly dressed and went to the county yamen to see County Magistrate Wu.

The yamen runner quickly relayed the message: please meet in the flower hall.

Wang Ci came to the flower hall and saw County Magistrate Wu wearing a ramie robe, seated in a new "Australian-style" rattan chair. Beside him stood a huge wooden tub filled with ice like a crystal mountain, wisps of white vapor rising from it. Walking into the room, he immediately felt the entire space was cool.

"This subordinate pays respects—"

"Alright, alright, the weather is hot. These empty formalities can be dispensed with." Wu Mingjin waved his hand. "Come, Old Wang, loosen your clothes and sit!"

"I dare not be improper before my superior." Wang Ci said respectfully.

Wu Mingjin silently cursed: Pedantic! But aloud he said: "Then please sit, sir. Someone—bring the gentleman a bowl of iced sour plum soup!"

"Reporting to master," the attendant said, "the sour plum syrup is gone. Someone has been sent to the East Gate Market to purchase some. We have the kvass that Master Xiong just sent..."

"Then bring that. Tell the kitchen to bring some crushed ice." Wu Mingjin nodded.

"I dare not impose."

(End of Chapter)