Chapter 1318 - Guiding Trends

Watching Jasmine Pavilion Academy—once flourishing—gradually sink back into obscurity pained Liu Dalin deeply. The study halls that had once resonated with the sound of voices reciting the classics now stood empty and desolate, with only a handful of scholars arriving each day to read and attend lectures. In former times, whenever he lectured at Jasmine Pavilion, not only would the enrolled licentiates and student scholars attend without fail, but even scholars and gentry from beyond the academy's rolls would arrive in droves, filling the lecture hall to capacity.

Those glorious scenes had become relics of the past. Jasmine Pavilion's appeal had faded with particular swiftness over the past year. Most students had withdrawn one after another; the few who still persisted wore restless expressions. The attendance at Liu the Successful Candidate's lectures had dwindled as well—the local gentry and their sons especially seldom showed their faces anymore. Those who did visit frequently came merely to pay their respects and exchange pleasantries; they displayed little genuine interest in the lecture content itself.

Liu Dalin was consumed by anxiety—not because his own influence had declined, but because he sensed that the "learning of the sages" throughout Lingao had entered a season of decay.

This decay differed fundamentally from the decline that economic hardship had once caused. In those lean years, even though the county couldn't distribute rice and stipends, leaving the licentiates barely scraping by and the student scholars in even more desperate straits, people had still possessed the heart for learning. Liu Dalin had heard Wang Ci recount more than once how such-and-such a student scholar labored in the fields by day and read during rest breaks; how such-and-such a licentiate studied while herding cattle or gathering firewood—inspiring tales of scholarly dedication. The grand scene when Jasmine Pavilion Academy was restored and reopened had demonstrated the local scholars' profound enthusiasm for learning.

Now that spirit of eager scholarship had utterly vanished. The scholars seemed transformed into entirely different people—one and all urgently seeking work and money, building houses, marrying wives, purchasing every manner of "Australian goods." They had cast aside the learning of the sages; their daily conversations revolved entirely around "Australian learning."

Yet Liu Dalin could not truly blame the Australians. Not only had they restored Jasmine Pavilion Academy, but even the desks, chairs, writing materials, and a substantial library of several hundred volumes of classics, histories, and philosophical works had all come from Australian "donations."

Even the monthly stipend the students received while studying here came entirely from a "fund" the Australians had established.

On this matter, the Australians could claim a clear conscience—not only had they taken no action to suppress Confucianism, but they had provided a learning environment superior to anything that had existed before, allowing many previously cold and hungry scholars to study in comfort and security. The vast quantities of books available for free borrowing represented a "lavish beneficence" that local scholars of previous generations wouldn't have dared imagine.

Yet students continued departing in a steady stream, abandoning the learning of the "sage's righteous path" to work for the Australians. Why was this?

Liu Dalin had meditated on this question at length. He concluded that ultimately it reduced to nothing more than human nature's "pursuit of profit." When examined closely, Confucian scholars were merely human, and could not escape the gravitational pull of those two characters: "human desire." Throughout history, scholars had advanced through learning to become officials. Most who spoke loftily of serving country and people were ultimately serving their own fame and fortune.

For Lingao's scholars, the path of "advance through learning to serve as officials" had always been rocky terrain. In Liu Dalin's estimation, this path was virtually impassable in Lingao—and not merely here; throughout all of Qiongzhou Prefecture, those who could walk this path could be counted on one's fingers.

Still, this had at least represented a path for scholars to "leap over the dragon gate." Even if one couldn't become a Recommended Man or Metropolitan Graduate, obtaining a licentiate's credentials exempted one from two shi of grain tax and made one a person of standing in the countryside. This was barely sufficient to keep people gritting their teeth and persevering on this arduous road.

Now the Australians had provided an effortless alternative path to "advance through learning to serve"—one that didn't even require excellence in learning. Scholars needed only the ability to read and write to secure a position with the Australians and live a respectable life. Even the most hopeless cases, those who received beatings after every children's examination, now taught at Fangcao Di with quite the dignified air of respected educators.

Everything the Australians did revolved around the single character "profit." From establishing markets and attracting merchants immediately upon landing, to later surveying and equalizing land taxes, to founding the Tiandihui to aid farmers—all these actions targeted humanity's profit-seeking nature. They could be called paragons of guiding trends to advantage.

Liu Dalin had developed a secret apprehension. He sensed that the Australians harbored terrifying hidden ambitions, yet he couldn't produce a shred of evidence to support his suspicions. This group that put "profit" first and was most skilled at using material benefits to guide the common people did not, themselves, pursue profit. Setting aside their almost excessively fastidious simplicity, their daily governance—viewed from any angle—consisted of doing good deeds.

Eliminating bandits, providing work relief during disasters, rescuing refugees, constructing water conservancy projects, building bridges and roads, encouraging industry and commerce, supporting agriculture and husbandry, establishing schools—all these endeavors consumed massive resources yet brought little revenue to their coffers. If past local officials had earnestly accomplished even one or two such things during their tenure—even just one-tenth or one-hundredth of what the Australians achieved—it would have been enough to make the entire county weep with gratitude. Moreover, since the Australians' arrival, virtually everyone in the county—gentry, farmers, artisans, and merchants alike—had benefited from them in some manner, with each day proving better than the last. Not only had the local people prospered, but the Australians also welcomed vast numbers of refugees, helping them settle here, establish farms and workshops, ensuring everyone had work to do, food to eat, clothes to wear. Whether Lingao had now achieved "no one picks up dropped items on the road and doors can be left unlocked at night" might be overstating the case. But that the common people had never had it so good—that was undeniable truth.

Now the Australians weren't confining these efforts to Lingao alone; they were gradually expanding throughout Qiongzhou Prefecture—even affecting Leizhou across the straits.

Liu Dalin had read history. How could he fail to recognize this as a scheme for "royal hegemony"? In truth, rumors that the Australians intended to change dynasties had been circulating in the marketplaces for some time, and were even discussed semi-openly among the county's gentry.

Liu Dalin had adopted a stance of non-participation and no-comment regarding such talk—his feelings toward the Australians were deeply conflicted. On one hand, everything the Australians did "benefited the people." On the other, as a Metropolitan Graduate of the Great Ming who felt he had "received deep imperial grace," he was unwilling to witness the Australians someday challenge the Central Plains. Given the Ming's current condition, once war began, wouldn't the Australians sweep everything before them like a hurricane? Even the petty Jurchen savages posed a great threat to the court; if replaced by these "cropped pirates," the consequences would be even more unpredictable. Whenever his thoughts reached this precipice, he refused to peer any further.

He suddenly released a heavy sigh: "Ah! Teaching without discrimination, teaching without discrimination—how can we live up to it? How is it that these Australians have achieved it instead?"

Sensing that Liu Dalin's tone had shifted, Huang Bingkun hastily interjected: "These cropped pirates are now wealthy and powerful, so naturally they affect refined culture and try to win hearts. But when it comes to poetry and prose, in all of Lingao County, Headmaster Liu remains without peer. The headmaster visiting the pirates' school is merely to broaden perspectives and gain some insight, nothing more."

Liu Dalin studied the Huang family's second young master, still rambling on in his attempts at persuasion. He wondered why this "anti-pirate faction" member had suddenly developed such intense interest in the Australians' school. Clearly he wished to use Liu's credentials as cover to "investigate" Fangcao Di—and Liu himself harbored precisely that same intention.

In recent days, fellow students from his years studying abroad in Guangdong, or fellow examinees from the provincial examination—whether previously acquainted or strangers at the time—had all been writing to Liu Dalin. Ostensibly to "renew old ties," but more importantly to probe him about the origins and particulars of Lingao's Australians. Some inquired whether business could be conducted with them; some asked why they showed no respect for the king's civilizing influence; some demanded whether their fearsome firearms were genuine; still others commissioned Liu Dalin to purchase Australian curiosities and rarities. The variety of requests was endless.

Having just recovered from serious illness, Liu Dalin read these letters and suddenly recognized how pale and ignorant his understanding of the Australians truly was. This group that had once seemed like nothing more than overseas barbarians had prompted so many scholars in Guangdong to write with detailed inquiries. Kong Youde, who had caused chaos in Shandong, the Jurchen savages beyond the passes—neither had provoked such attention from the scholarly class. Those were merely military men in rebellion. Clearly the Australians' influence in Guangdong was growing by the day.

Being fixed under Liu the Successful Candidate's stare, Huang Bingkun's skin began to crawl. Just as he was fumbling for words, he saw Liu Dalin suddenly sit up straight in his wheelchair, his expression as grave as when lecturing at the county school. He spoke solemnly: "As I observe these Australians, though their learning differs from ours, their minds contain great depths. Moreover, they share the bloodline of the Huaxia—they are certainly not barbarians. I shall immediately seek an audience with Director Wang and ask him to mediate so that we may visit the Australians' school—to broaden our knowledge and expand our horizons."

Huang Bingkun had at last succeeded in persuading Liu Dalin. The stone in his heart could finally settle. Fangcao Di was currently operating primarily as a boarding school; only immediate family members could make appointments to visit students. When Huang Ping had registered for enrollment, Huang Bingkun hadn't been listed among his family members. Moreover, the Huang family had a blood feud with the pirates over the death of one of their sons. Even if the Huang family no longer harbored thoughts of revenge, the pirates would surely maintain strict vigilance.

After leaving Liu Dalin's residence, Huang Bingkun returned to Jasmine Pavilion Academy to see if there were any licentiates he could bring along to make an impressive showing. But the academy stood empty. The eastern and western study halls, where bunks had once been impossible to secure, were now desolate—beds and desks bare and visible at a glance. Only a few bunks showed any signs of occupancy.

As he stood there in uncertainty, a hand suddenly clapped down heavily on his right shoulder. Huang Bingkun, absorbed in his thoughts, started violently and spun around to discover his comrade-in-arms the "Excrement Baron" Young Master Li—this Young Master Li hadn't visited the study hall in quite some time, having been busy frequenting the County Consultative Bureau. His sudden appearance at the academy was entirely unexpected.

"Hey, Brother Huang, how have you been?"

"You! Startled me to death—what are you doing?!"

"Brother Huang, truly you are one who understands the times and becomes a hero."

"What do you mean? What's this about?"

"Don't pretend. Brother Huang, isn't your Huang Family Stockade about to join that Tiandihui?"

"What! What—what did you say?!"

(End of Chapter)