Chapter 1859 - The Doctrine of Productive Forces

"...After the Australians came to Lingao, they undertook various projects. Not only did they restore the Moliaxuan Academy and reorganize the school fields, but they even disbursed the long-overdue stipends for the scholars, so they would not freeze or starve. Scholars had books to read. The Australians also established their own Australian schools." At this point, Yang Shixiang's face lit up with pride. "My worthless youngest son had no prospects in the path of the sages and worthies, so I sent him to the Australian school." Seeing that smug expression and the self-satisfied way he stroked his beard, Zhang Dai knew Proprietor Yang's son must have done well in Australian studies. Yet since Yang Shixiang hadn't bragged outright, Zhang Dai felt awkward about offering congratulations as a courtesy.

"Those Australians teach some interesting things. One day, I asked my boy: what did you learn at school today? The little rascal rattled off all sorts of mathematics, this force and that force, something about spheres rolling down inclines—all incomprehensible stuff. I was about to smack his palm a few times and let him go when he added that they had also discussed Suiren, Youchao, the Yellow Emperor, Yandi, Leizu, Cangjie, and so on." Yang Shixiang spoke as if lost in the memory, his gaze unfocused. He naturally picked up the teacup beside him, took a sip of cooling tea, and continued.

"I thought it strange—the Australians teach about the ancient sages? So I had my boy explain exactly how the Australians presented it." Here Yang Shixiang heaved a long sigh, then rather than quoting his son directly, reorganized and summarized: "According to the Australians, these ancient sages were great because their inventions enormously advanced social production..."

Zhang Dai furrowed his brow, enduring terms like "productive forces," "social production," and "production efficiency"—words that seemed to point at something but whose precise meanings he couldn't quite grasp. For nearly ten minutes, he listened to the Executive Council's secondhand version of a history-of-tools view of human civilization, or perhaps a history-of-technology view. Beginning with Suiren's mastery of fire, humanity awakened to intelligence. Pottery, herbal medicine, agriculture, sericulture—each invention enormously advanced human civilization and vastly improved human life. And technology was constantly progressing: from cave dwelling to tree nests to wooden houses to stockaded villages, then rammed-earth walls and kiln-fired brick cities. Or from "mining copper at Shouyang" to smelting iron and forging steel. The key to technological progress, they said, was the invention of writing and the transmission of knowledge...

Zhang Dai himself was a historian. Though in another timeline he was famous as a gourmet, aesthete, and essayist, his true life's work was the Shikui Shu—the skeleton of the History of Ming. To categorize his views, his historical perspective was of course the traditional orthodoxy and "great man" theory. Encountering for the first time this materialist historical framework indexed by tool development and technological progress was profoundly shocking. The Confucianism of Confucius and Mencius emphasized "emulating the ancient kings," insisting that the present was inferior to the past, and therefore one must follow the ancient kings to restore the governance of the Three Dynasties. "Emulating the ancients" was a form of political correctness; though one might sense something was wrong, no one dared challenge it openly. Xunzi had proposed "emulating the later kings," but this did not mean each generation surpassed the last—rather, he constructed in his mind a "model king" who had not yet appeared but might exist in the future, then demanded that present rulers cultivate themselves to approach this template. Moreover, in the thousand-plus years since, few had studied the Xunzi; those who did held disparate views. It was a "rare heresy," and its ideas had not spread widely. Yet here and now, in a medicine shop, Zhang Dai heard a logically complete, thoroughly argued, meticulously elaborated new historical view—one that affirmed the great achievements of the "ancient sages" while pointing the way forward for human society. The sentiment "If I could hear the Way in the morning, I could die content that evening" now flooded Zhang Dai's mind.

After finishing his account, Yang Shixiang slowly savored several cookies before Zhang Dai came back to himself. But "coming to himself" meant only that he emerged from his daze and instinctively looked around for someone to discuss this with. Facing the room's only interlocutor, Zhang Dai wanted to speak but didn't know what to say—after all, Yang Shixiang was merely an nth-hand peddler of this entirely new worldview. Yang Shixiang sighed deeply and picked up the thread himself: "In the Australian view, the two greatest sages of the Han dynasty were Zhao Guo of the Former Han and Bi Lan of the Latter Han. Zhao devised the ridge-and-furrow ox-plowing method; Bi invented the chain pump and the kelu water-lifting device. Their contributions benefited their own age and enriched posterity. These two men were the true great worthies of the two Han dynasties..." Compared to the chain pump and kelu, the primitive well-sweep was nothing at all!

Hearing this, Zhang Dai found it hard to accept. Zhao Guo was scarcely mentioned in the histories—that could be set aside. But Bi Lan was one of the Ten Eunuchs who had disrupted the court! It had been only a few years since the present emperor had overthrown Wei Zhongxian. For these Australians to call a meddling eunuch a "great worthy of the Latter Han"—where did that leave Cai Yong, Lu Zhi, Zheng Xuan, and the other true sages?

Thinking further, Zhao Guo was an agriculturalist—a branch of the Mohists. Bi Lan, a eunuch, had pursued "cunning trifles"... er... "machinations and artifice"... anyway, invention and creation, which also aligned with Mohism. The Mencius, "Teng Wen Gong" chapter, states: "Throughout the empire, discourse either returns to Yang or to Mo. Yang's doctrine is 'for oneself,' which means having no sovereign; Mo's doctrine is 'universal love,' which means having no father. Those without father or sovereign are beasts." Zhang Dai found himself muttering this aloud, only to see Yang Shixiang staring at him in confusion. Realizing he had "spoken out of turn," Zhang Dai asked directly: "The Australians, in this respect, rather resemble the Mohists. The Mohists have no father and no sovereign—is this..." If he truly said what followed, wouldn't that cause trouble?

"Ha ha ha!" Yang Shixiang recalled a notice he had once seen in the Lingao Times seeking ancient texts. He replied, "Master Zhang! According to the Australians, by the time of the Southern Song migration, much of the Mozi had already been lost. To this day, the Australians possess only fifty-three chapters, of which eight are merely titles without content. If Master Zhang truly has the complete seventy-one chapters of the Mozi, he might offer it to the Executive Council—that would be a great meritorious deed."

Hearing this, Zhang Dai's expression grew sheepish. Though the Zhang family were local aristocrats with three generations of book collecting and an extremely rich library, they were not a millennial noble house. They would not actively collect "heretical texts" like the Mozi. His impressions of Mohism came almost entirely from Confucian criticisms.

"Moreover," Yang Shixiang rarely held the upper hand and couldn't help continuing, "leaving aside what Mohism was like a thousand years ago... let me pose a medical analogy: suppose there is an ancient prescription that uses aristolochia and aconite as adjuvants. A physician sees it and says, 'These are great poisons; they must not be used!' Tell me, Master Zhang, is that proper?"

Zhang Dai knew little of medicine, but he understood that certain aggressive prescriptions did include potent toxins like aristolochia and aconite. If one looked only at the toxic ingredients without considering the formula's overall composition and proportions, and declared it unfit—that would certainly be unreasonable. But clearly Yang Shixiang was comparing Mohism to that "ancient prescription," using a parable to make his point, leaving Zhang Dai at a loss for a response.

Yang Shixiang wasn't really waiting for an answer; he continued on his own: "Not only that, but this physician also says, 'This toxic prescription must not circulate in the world. None of its ingredients may be used.' And so cinnamon twigs may no longer be used, nor ephedra, nor ginseng, nor deer antler—simply because those ancient formulas contain them. Master Zhang, is such conduct proper?" Yang Shixiang grew more animated, his tone increasingly stern, his gaze toward Zhang Dai taking on a hostile edge.

This "physician" was the Confucians, wasn't it? And didn't Yang Shixiang see him as that Master Yuan? Come to think of it, might that "Master Yuan" be related to the Supervisor Yuan who had been executed a few years ago? Supervisor Yuan had also been a juren from Guangfu... Zhang Dai's thoughts began to wander in strange directions.

Just as the atmosphere grew awkward, a clear shout came from the doorway: "Boss! You're here!"

Yang Shixiang started slightly, then realized what was happening. He quickly rose and looked toward the familiar figure in the doorway...

"Brother! How did you find the time to come?" Yang Shixiang hurried to the entrance and very naturally extended his hand to shake Liu San's.

"You've been troubled, elder brother! I've come on assignment!" Liu San released his hand and patted Yang Shixiang's shoulder. The two stood side by side.

"This must be Master Zhang Dai!" Liu San strode forward. Zhang Dai already understood that a "true Australian" had arrived—presumably the Australian proprietor of Runshitang. He had risen early to cup his hands in greeting. But Liu San extended his right hand, a smile on his face. Zhang Dai, recalling how Yang Shixiang and Liu San had just shaken hands, understood this must be the Australian greeting ritual. He suppressed his instinctive distaste at Liu San's direct use of his name, inwardly chuckled, and extended his right hand to shake. Before he could speak, he heard Liu San's voice, tinged with a strange emotion, saying repeatedly, "Honored to meet you! I've long heard your name!"

"Could my literary reputation have astounded these overseas remnants?" Zhang Dai could not fathom how long Liu San's "long admiration" might have been. He could only reply in the customary manner: "You flatter me! How embarrassing! My modest reputation is unworthy of your ears."

"I wonder why you have traveled a thousand li from Jiangnan to this place, sir?"

Liu San's tone carried an air of condescension, but Zhang Dai could hardly take offense. Setting aside that this man was one of the Guangzhou grandees, an Element, he was also the big boss of this very shop—a genuine master of the house. Zhang Dai himself was merely a guest who had arrived with a letter of introduction.

After a moment's thought, Zhang Dai answered frankly: "In times past, while sightseeing with friends in Hangzhou, I became acquainted with Elder Zhao. Through his introductions to Australian customs and products, a longing arose in my heart. Thus I traveled south, seeking the means to visit Lingao and see it for myself."

(End of Chapter)