Chapter 1321 - A Visit to Fangcao Di (Part 2)

The classroom was filled to capacity. Although the students were initially curious about the delegation members, once class began, they all focused on the lesson and no one paid further attention to the visitors seated at the back. Several scholars noticed that among the students were many girls in skirts, and one after another they sighed and shook their heads—though this was no longer news, they still felt that having males and females in the same room for study was truly injurious to proper morality. Let alone the fact that these skirts barely covered the knee, with the calves wrapped only in a thin layer of form-revealing stockings.

Huang Bingkun observed that students rose and bowed to greet the teacher before class began—at least the pirates knew to respect teachers, he thought. Today's lesson covered natural science. Transmigrator Dong was explaining something Huang Bingkun had always yearned to understand: why the pirates' iron ships could float on water. Transmigrator Dong not only lectured but also drew diagrams on the blackboard. Finally, he produced a glass tank, took out a piece of tin foil, first crumpled it into a ball and dropped it into the water-filled tank, then fished it out and folded it into a boat shape before placing it in again. One sank, one floated—the effect was intuitive and instantly comprehensible. Not only did the students find it fascinating, but the delegation members also watched, captivated.

Though Huang Bingkun found it interesting and now understood somewhat why iron ships could float on water, his mind remained in turmoil. The earlier formation drills had genuinely shaken him. Though he had only witnessed the conclusion, those orderly ranks and well-organized discipline were rarely matched even by the court's crack troops. The pirates trained their military this way—that went without saying. But why did they drill even little schoolchildren in such fashion? What were the pirates planning? Did they truly intend to rebel and seize the realm?!

Huang Bingkun had read widely and naturally knew the famous axiom: "The Son of Heaven is one whose soldiers are strong and horses robust." But the pirates were already militarily powerful. Even if they couldn't seize the entire realm, taking the two Guang provinces would be as easy as reaching into a bag. Why didn't they simply do that, instead pouring enormous effort, manpower, and resources into schools? What did the pirates want with so many scholars?

Huang Bingkun felt somewhat bewildered. At first, he had thought this band of pirates wanted at most to become like Zheng Zhilong of Fujian—a great maritime chief. After the crushing victory at Chengmai that routed the imperial troops, his spirits had plummeted to their lowest depths, convinced the pirates were surely a second Jurchen horde—destined to carve out Qiongzhou as their separate domain.

Yet today, visiting the pirates' school and observing how the Australians ran the institution and conducted their instruction, he realized their ambitions were by no means as simple as Zheng Zhilong's or the Jurchen savages'. What they taught contained almost nothing of the sages' learning—it was all practical technique. The students included not just locals but many children with northern accents; not just boys but roughly half were girls. Most importantly, the vast majority of students were children of commoners whose ancestors for generations had been illiterate; only a small fraction came from scholarly gentry families. When these people completed their studies here, what could they do? What would they do? What would this realm, this world, become in their hands? Huang Bingkun suddenly found himself afraid to continue that line of reasoning.

While lecturing from the podium, Dong Yizhi kept glancing sideways at the "delegation" clustered together at the back. He had only been teaching the Junior Elementary natural science class for a short while when, apart from the frowning Liu Dalin, the wooden-faced Wang Ci, and the distracted Huang Bingkun who kept looking around restlessly, most of the "scholars" were already nodding off. The children, on the other hand, were listening with keen interest. Indeed, a blank slate is easier to draw on, Teacher Dong mused privately. Let me properly train these children. As for this bunch of old-timers—it's like playing music for a cow.

As an unremarkable, almost NPC-like idle transmigrator, Teacher Dong felt he had little prospect for advancement within the Executive Committee's departments. Rather than drifting along aimlessly until eventually being assigned to some unimportant administrative post, why not cultivate relationships with the naturalized citizens—especially the next generation of naturalized citizens? Making a favorable impression of pedagogical authority on these future pillars and backbones was itself a form of reputation-building.

The sudden ringing of the bell startled most delegation members awake. Before they could comprehend what was happening, they heard a student at the front call out "Class dismissed!" and all the students rose in unison, bowing toward the podium: "Goodbye, teacher." Liu Dalin, who had listened attentively throughout the lesson, slowly turned his head and said softly to Wang Ci nearest him: "Though the Australians are not skilled at literary composition, their teaching prioritizes practical application. They truly live up to 'teaching without discrimination.' Yet what the Australians teach would be a dragon-slaying technique for the Great Ming—after these thousands of children complete their studies, what will they do?"

"What the Australians teach is merely the study of investigating things—trifling skills employed by craftsmen and artisans. How can it be compared to the art of governing a state?" Wang Ci was unimpressed. This evaluation of "dragon-slaying technique" was rating them far too highly. Could building a ship really count as "learning"? By that logic, a bunch of craftsmen could call themselves "teachers"!

Wang Ci's hasty denial stemmed from the frustrating fact that he hadn't understood a single word from start to finish—a source of tremendous vexation. This frustration had begun the very first day he encountered the Australians. Now, hearing Liu the Successful Candidate use that term again to describe Australian learning, he was almost beside himself with indignation.

Before this debate could develop further, Transmigrator Dong was already approaching with a beaming smile to receive them. At the delegation's request, they hoped to eat and live alongside the students for several days to fully experience the distinctive character of Fangcao Di Educational Park. Transmigrator Dong had accordingly prepared dormitories for them.

"Distinguished guests have traveled hard. Please proceed to the dormitory first to rest briefly. At noon, I will treat everyone to a welcoming banquet."

Most delegation members, being unaccustomed to physical exertion and used to having servants attend their needs, were somewhat fatigued after the morning's traveling about and sitting rigidly through a class they couldn't comprehend. Hearing there was a place to rest, they expressed unanimous agreement.

Dong Yizhi led the delegation to the dormitory area. Most of Fangcao Di's students were boarders, so the dormitory area was quite extensive. The "longhouse"-style two-story dormitory buildings, with large rooms housing thirty people, made the place resemble barracks more than school dormitories. The delegation, being guests, couldn't very well stay in such accommodations and were instead lodged in the single faculty dormitory.

The faculty dormitory building possessed a similar exterior to the student dormitory but housed only four persons per room—in Lingao, this qualified as excellent treatment. This was primarily because naturalized faculty worked at extremely high intensity: not merely mental labor but physical exertion as well, with each person putting in at least twelve hours daily of teaching, administrative work, and continuing education. After hours, they still had to grade homework and prepare lessons. Hence, they required superior living and sleeping conditions.

The dormitory assigned to the delegation was precisely such, with only two persons per room as a special courtesy. Young Master Huang the Second was paired with Director Wang—he felt that of the delegation, only Director Wang's temperament was somewhat compatible with his own.

"This room is reasonably clean," Director Wang commented as he surveyed the dormitory. In truth, this room with its wooden floor was at least a hundred times cleaner than the quarters he inhabited at the Academy. At first, he had even felt reluctant to tread upon it—the rooms at the Academy all had century-old square bricks. No matter how vigorously the servants scrubbed, they could never be properly cleaned. Not to mention the leaking roof tiles, cracked beams and pillars, plus the spiders and rats running rampant everywhere.

The dormitory wasn't large, and the furnishings were simple: two beds, two small desks, and two armchairs—previously this room had contained four high bunk beds with desks underneath. Considering that most of these men were older and unaccustomed to physical activity, requiring them to climb bunk beds would truly be excessive, so the furniture had been specially changed.

The room was spotlessly clean. Large glass windows provided excellent lighting, and on the wall hung a gas lamp for nighttime use.

Wang Ci sat on the bed, curiously feeling the bedding: all natural-colored cotton fabric, somewhat rough in texture, but clearly freshly laundered—very neat and clean. He had originally prepared to bring his own bedding, but was told before departure that it wouldn't be necessary. Clearly the Australians had been quite thoughtful regarding their comfort, which improved Wang Ci's mood somewhat.

"The pirates... the Australians all have an obsession with cleanliness—surely the gentleman knows this." Huang Bingkun remarked. "They're extremely fussy about minor details. Their capacity is too limited for great achievements!"

Wang Ci had originally harbored reservations about the pirates, and hearing Young Master Huang's observations, they immediately struck a chord. He promptly agreed: "Brother is correct. Everything these Australians do reeks of petty, calculating small-mindedness..."

Just as the two were about to expound at length on the Australians' "petty, calculating small-mindedness," footsteps sounded in the corridor outside. The two exchanged glances and immediately fell silent. At that moment, a young woman dressed in the "fake-pirate" uniform entered through the doorway. Her chest badge bore two lines of text: "Fangcao Di Educational Park, Academic Affairs."

"Distinguished guests, here are the keys to your dormitory and your meal cards. Please keep the keys safe—there's a replacement fee if lost. For three meals daily, you may use the cards for complimentary meals at the cafeteria." The academic affairs woman spoke as she handed over two envelopes.

Wang Ci watched her red lips part slightly, eyes and brows curved in a smile, and instantly felt himself melting. Unlike the married Huang the Second, he had remained single and away from home for years. But Director Wang held strictly to Confucian principles—he didn't visit prostitutes or keep catamites, and had no outlet for his urges. He could only suffer through it, living like a widower. Usually confined mostly to the Academy where he rarely encountered young women of any looks, he could still maintain that "dead wood and cold ash" state of composure. Now, suddenly confronted by a girl who had grown up entirely under Council care with ample nutrition, her form-fitting uniform tightly wrapping a body full of youthful vitality—Director Wang immediately experienced a certain physiological reaction. When she turned to leave and her waist and hips swayed slightly, her skirt hem softly swinging—he could barely restrain himself. For a moment he stared stupidly, his eyes seeming to have grown hooks, fixed upon the academic affairs woman's retreating figure.

(End of Chapter)