Chapter 1325 - A Visit to Fangcao Di: The Ball Game

Fangcao Di's athletic field was the second largest in Lingao—second only to the stadium the Council had originally constructed for military reviews and celebrations. However, its facilities were considerably more rudimentary. There was no grand reviewing stand, nor any proper spectator seating—the reviewing stand and bleachers consisted of simple structures fashioned from iron frames and wooden planks. During major sporting events within the school, students had to bring their own benches to the athletic field.

Fangcao Di's athletic field maintained an extremely high utilization rate. The two hundred residence groups' physical education classes were scheduled to capacity—eight class periods from morning to evening, with never a period when several classes weren't simultaneously conducting activities on the field. After school hours, lacking artificial lighting, such competitions could only be scheduled in spring and later when daylight hours grew longer.

The rugby the Council had introduced was English-style rugby. It proved relatively less confrontational and didn't require complex protective gear—rattan helmets and cotton knee pads served as adequate substitutes.

Rugby, being highly confrontational and fast-paced, was quite entertaining to spectate. It also embodied a strong team spirit, and its tactical arrangements were more sophisticated. For the Council, which adhered to a "militarist" philosophy, it represented an extremely suitable sport. Therefore, beginning in Salt Farm Village, this sport had been popularized. Over the years, a rudimentary competition system had gradually emerged among Lingao's naturalized citizens. Various factories, government offices, agricultural communes, and military units all fielded amateur teams. Fangcao Di Educational Park not only maintained its own representative team but also hosted age-level school leagues internally.

The game was scheduled for one o'clock in the afternoon. Huang Bingkun wished to attend, and the rest of the delegation—except for Liu Dalin who required brief afternoon rest—all expressed interest in witnessing the Australian ball game when they heard about it. It would certainly prove more engaging than sitting in classrooms listening to incomprehensible lectures.

That local gentry were willing to come observe was something Dong Yizhi welcomed heartily. For anything that could spread influence, the more participants the better.

By now, the delegation was seated on the bleachers beside the athletic field. Since this wasn't an official competition, there were no organized student spectators; with study pressures being heavy, only about a third of the bleachers were occupied, with scattered stragglers distributed around the perimeter.

Because it wasn't a formal match, there was no designated VIP section, nor anyone assigned to reception duties. It was only through Transmigrator Dong's personal intervention that the delegation was guided to the front row of bleachers closest to the field.

A group of gentry and scholars in long robes with their hair in topknots sitting on the bleachers created, in Transmigrator Dong's estimation, a pronounced sense of incongruity.

Indeed, long robes and topknots don't suit the Council, he mused silently.

Just as his thoughts were drifting toward the queue-order controversy, a student ran over to report that the teams were prepared and awaited only his declaration to begin.

Dong Yizhi served not only as the match's host but also as referee. In truth, he was also the coach of both teams—since none of the transmigrators had actually played rugby, let alone the English variant, they could only study books and then assume coaching duties. Transmigrator Dong, whose only athletic skill was kicking a football around, had managed to take the field based solely on manuals and a small amount of video material.

After the initial kickoff, the Jasmine Pavilion scholars sat on the bleachers staring blankly at the field. Though they couldn't comprehend the proceedings, they roughly grasped that two groups of people were fighting over a ball and then desperately attempting to kick it toward the goal. This crude "ball game" left the scholars dumbfounded. Those who had read more widely, or who had visited places like Guangzhou, naturally connected this ball game with cuju.

Though cuju had been most prosperous during the Tang and Song dynasties, it remained popular among common people in the Ming. But by this era, cuju had devolved into a performance art or recreational pastime, losing the competitive two-team confrontation of the pre-Song period. Its reputation wasn't particularly favorable either—the professional cuju organization "Yuanshe" was associated with marketplace idlers, mostly serving wealthy households and high-class brothels.

For upstanding young men from "farming and scholarly families" like Huang Bingkun, cuju wasn't even worth observing—it was completely dismissed as a vulgar lower-class diversion.

That the Australians also engaged in cuju led to their initial reaction that perhaps there was some basis to the Australians' claim of being "descendants of the Great Song"—otherwise, why would they even incorporate this ball game in their schools? Presumably this was a legacy from Emperor Huizong.

However, as the match progressed, the delegation members quickly realized that this "Australian cuju" bore no resemblance whatsoever to the cuju they had witnessed. Never mind the absence of fancy trick shots—just the back-and-forth contestation, with players coordinating desperately to carry the ball for a touchdown, possessed the unmistakable character of military formations.

Though they already knew the pirates would sooner or later "rebel," watching a group of teenagers playing cuju on the field while already radiating such fierce fighting spirit still made the delegation members feel a deep, instinctive anxiety. Most of them weren't worrying about the Great Ming—the Ming court was too distant to feel truly real. Rather, it was these young students being carefully cultivated by the Australians who radiated an ethos already incompatible with themselves. If such people someday became officials in a new dynasty and became "scholar-gentry" themselves, how would people like them position themselves? Could they still be counted as "scholars" in the new dynasty?

Contemplating this far, several licentiates were already growing restless. "Master the literary and martial arts, and sell them to the emperor's house"—this had always been the ultimate purpose of studying for scholars since ancient times. Now this emerging new "emperor's house" that was about to raise a new banner apparently didn't value their "literary and martial arts" at all. Hadn't all their years of studying been in vain?! Those with quick minds and yearning for wealth and status were already secretly wondering which books one should begin with to learn this Australian learning.

Huang Bingkun concentrated on watching the match. He was gradually comprehending the game. Initially he had thought this was merely a contest of brute strength—just determining who ran faster and was stronger. But gradually he discerned subtle tactics of troop deployment involved. Even more remarkable was how the players coordinated when seizing and passing the ball—the precision was exquisite: advancing and retreating, flanking attacks, supporting movements... all flowing like clouds and water, accomplished in a single breath. If these people went to war, they would constitute first-rate crack troops. Then recalling those perfectly ordered morning runs and exercises, Huang Bingkun experienced a sudden insight: could the pirates be ruling their domain by military law?

Suddenly he felt someone pat his shoulder. Turning his head, he discovered it was Director Wang. The Professor's face was contorted with shame and indignation. He whispered: "Truly the decline of public morals! Corrupting people's hearts!"

While Huang Bingkun was still puzzled, he followed the man's gaze and saw, on one section of the bleachers, more than twenty female students divided into two teams. Each held differently colored silk pompoms—red and blue—singing and dancing to the rhythm of the field action. The skirts that originally just covered the knees kept flipping up as they jumped, revealing glimpses of wheat-colored thighs above the knee-high socks.

Led by them, the students watching from the sidelines either shouted cheers or exclaimed in excitement, creating a lively scene. This made the corner of bleachers where the delegation sat seem particularly cold and desolate.

Huang Bingkun had no interest in the female students' "absolute territory"—he felt none of that mattered. What mattered was that the pirates were sparing no effort to engineer the doom of the Great Ming. At this rate, not only would the Ming be finished, but even the eternal unity of Huaxia civilization might be destroyed at the hands of these fake Song people!

Wang Ci observed that he wasn't responding and was about to say more when suddenly a chant arose from the field—one team announced a substitution.

The one coming on was none other than Huang Ping. This was the first time Huang Bingkun had seen his servant wearing such short-sleeved, short-legged attire. Back at the Huang Family Stockade, servants like Huang Ping who moved about within the residence were absolutely forbidden from donning such indecorous clothing that exposed arms and legs.

He watched his servant Huang Ping wearing a short-sleeved shirt with a large Arabic numeral on both front and back, a rattan helmet on his head, all joints wrapped in thick bandages. Huang Bingkun suddenly noticed that this thin boy who had once been constantly at his side had grown taller and stronger. His exposed arms and thighs were covered with solid muscle as he ran and shouted across the field.

Shortly after entering, Huang Ping coordinated with teammates on an offensive play. Though they didn't score a touchdown, the strength and agility he displayed in the attack made Huang Bingkun regard him with new eyes. How had he never noticed this youth possessed such capability? After all, all Huang family servants had to practice martial arts, and Huang Ping was famously "useless"—he couldn't even master something as simple as Taizu Long Fist.

"The Australians truly possess the ability to turn stone into gold." While still musing, Huang Bingkun suddenly heard Liu Dalin's voice.

"Headmaster, you—"

"I awoke. Heard you were all here watching the match, so I came to join the fun." Liu Dalin explained.

"The sun is strong here. Let's watch from under the awning instead." Huang Bingkun quickly assisted Liu Dalin to a shaded canopy off to the side. Liu Dalin seemed quite interested in this vigorous sport, occasionally watching the match and chuckling with amusement. Huang Bingkun, however, had lost all desire to continue watching. Suddenly, a burst of cheering pulled him out of his reverie. He witnessed Huang Ping in the red jersey sprinting swiftly across the field with both hands raised high, his face radiating a happiness Huang Bingkun had never before observed. As he tried to make sense of the scene, Liu Dalin told him:

"That's a score."

"Headmaster?!" Huang Bingkun was quite astonished. The Headmaster had limited mobility and rarely ventured out, yet he knew so much about the pirates' affairs!

"My steward's grandson studies here. He also loves this rugby game, so I know a thing or two."

Huang Bingkun was about to say something when Huang Ping broke free from the excited teammates who had rushed to embrace him. He ran toward his classmates' bleachers, where a girl stretched out both hands and leaped forward, and the two embraced tightly. This scene instantly left Huang Bingkun dumbstruck, his mind going completely blank. He felt only something collapsing within his chest. Sunlight flooded the entire field, blazing bright, yet he alone stood in a long stretch of shadow.

(End of Chapter)