Chapter 1874 - Out with the Old, In with the New (Part 10)

In the Xiuyi Ward neighborhood of Xiajiu Pu, outside Guangzhou's West Gate, there was a small alley called Wenlan Alley. The famous Wenlan Academy was located here.

During the Tianqi reign, Wei Zhongxian had persecuted the Donglin Party, issued the "Donglin Wanted List," and subsequently abolished academies throughout the realm. Wenlan Academy had not been spared.

The academy occupied extensive grounds—not only possessing multiple courtyards but also a specially built Wenchang Temple in the rear courtyard, with dozens of rentable rooms surrounding it. Add to this the fields scattered across various counties and numerous shop-front properties in the city, and its financial resources were the most formidable in all Guangzhou.

More than half a year ago, the Executive Council had moved with thunderous force, and Guangzhou city had changed flags overnight. Guangzhou officials either died or fled; the city was in turmoil, and the academy had temporarily closed. Under the Guangzhou municipal government's efforts to maintain order, the situation quickly stabilized, and Wenlan Academy reopened.

Inside and outside the city, Liu Xiang's new municipal government was sweeping away the old and bringing in the new—various rectification campaigns in full swing. Yet inside Wenlan Academy, all remained calm. For the scholars in this academy, none of it seemed to concern them.

Although the Australians had announced they would not hold imperial examinations—all the children's exams, county exams, prefectural exams, provincial qualifying exams, and provincial juren exams formerly held in Guangzhou were canceled; and the Australians' own "civil service examination" didn't test the eight-legged essay—inside this academy, the students still studied various collections of eight-legged essays, discussed opening lines, development, exposition, paired comparisons, and examined recent examination topics and the essay styles favored by chief examiners.

But this detachment from reality wasn't because they truly loved the eight-legged essay; it was simply powerful inertia at work. Ming dynasty academies mostly paid little attention to their original purpose—scholarly lectures—and instead focused on examination preparation. The "cave-academy civil examination" system that had emerged in the late Ming had intensified this trend.

The so-called "cave-academy civil examination" had begun during the Tianqi reign: at each provincial examination, the province's famous major academies each had nomination quotas. Wenlan Academy had four such spots.

So in this premier Guangzhou academy—which admitted only shengyuan degree holders, with the prefecture school's instructors serving concurrently as headmasters—examination preparation was the top priority. The entire faculty and student body revolved around examinations. Though they knew the Australians wouldn't hold imperial exams, they knew nothing besides the Four Books and Five Classics and the eight-legged examination essay. Since the academy was still issuing food rations and "study stipends," the students simply continued their "studies."

Still, the world-shaking changes outside had somewhat affected the academy. For Wenlan Academy's students, the biggest change was that the food provided by the academy had noticeably improved. Previously, the academy had served three meals daily, but the food quality was terrible. Except for some poor scholars, students from even modestly comfortable families wouldn't eat at the academy. The rice was old grain mixed with husks and grit; the accompanying dishes were barely edible—rotten fish and shrimp or vegetable scraps and radishes. A meatless duck carcass was considered a feast.

Now the daily three meals—two congee and one rice—were all made with top-quality white rice. Every day the dishes included meat; on the first and fifteenth of each month, there were even whole fish and chicken. The "study stipends" and "food allowances," previously docked on all sorts of pretexts, were now disbursed on time and in full. The servants who had strutted about the academy had recently become much more respectful.

The Australians had not touched the academy at all. Apart from police and "cadres" coming to the door when registering households and baojia groups, officials never came to the academy. Reportedly, when the trustees and managers had several times invited Great Song's Prefect Liu to come "lecture" at the academy, he had declined.

The Australians' attitude was polite but cold. The academy scholars were somewhat disappointed. After all, this Wenlan Academy was Guangzhou Prefecture's premier academy—not only wealthy but prestigious. To enroll, one had to hold a shengyuan degree; at provincial examinations, more of those who passed to become juren came from here than anywhere else in Guangzhou.

They had assumed that when the Australians entered Guangzhou to change dynasties, they would need to recruit scholars to assist them. For this, the academy had even had quite heated discussions—nearly coming to blows: should they accept "false positions" from the Australians?

Some students argued that Ming's fate was exhausted. Great Song—whatever the Australians' Great Song was really worth—having landed on the mainland was already contending for the Central Plains. Given the Australians' military might and abundant resources, a change of dynasties was imminent. If they could join now as founding supporters, great wealth and honor, securing prosperity for wife and children, would be within easy reach.

Others condemned such people as "having lost their minds" and "betraying imperial grace," insisting that Ming would retake the city within a year or half. Then "Prefect Liu, Wen Desi, Ma Qianzhu," and other "great traitors" would all be "executed by slow slicing as a warning to others."

A third group believed Ming couldn't retake the city but also wasn't willing to defect to the Australians. Some were cautious and unwilling to take risks; some thought the Australians "didn't look like master material"; still others considered the Australians "barbarians"—no matter how good their civil and military accomplishments, "barbarians with a sovereign are not as good as Huaxia without one."

The last group were pure "rice bowl lifers"—in short, "if Ming comes, follow Ming; if Song comes, attach to Song." As long as the academy stayed open and issued food rations, who cared who became emperor?

After lunch each day, the academy scholars would each take a cup of strong tea and gather in twos and threes to pontificate.

Among these pontificating scholars, there was one young student who sat alone.

Unlike some scholars who stayed apart to rest or study, he simply sat alone in his room, lost in thought.

This daydreaming young scholar was none other than the fifth son of the former Guangzhou Chief Beggar Gao Tianshi, and brother of the current Chief Beggar Gao Lingxiang—Gao Lingda. Born to Gao Tianshi's Seventh Concubine, he had been clever since childhood. Though Seventh Concubine had come from a prostitute background, she had studied quite a bit as a child. Influenced by his mother, Gao Lingda loved reading and was talented in his studies—unlike his several elder brothers with their strong underworld air. Gao Tianshi had believed Gao Lingda was the family's hope for changing their social standing. Though the hereditary Chief Beggar position brought money and power, it was despised as "base." If they could produce a scholar, it might somewhat improve the family's status. So from childhood, he had been kept away from family affairs and allowed to focus on his studies.

Gao Lingda had passed the county and prefectural examinations to become a tongsheng apprentice. Because of Gao Tianshi's relationship with Mo Rongxin, he had entered this academy—which admitted only xiucai—with his tongsheng status.

Though he had entered Wenlan Academy with a power broker like Mo Rongxin backing him, and though Gao Tianshi was known as the "standing prefect" of Guangzhou city, Gao Lingda had always been an outsider in the academy. No matter how diligent and studious he was, from the headmaster and professors down to his fellow students—whether wealthy or poor—none would associate with him. Prosperous families and scholarly households avoided him like plague; even those from poor backgrounds considered themselves above him and wouldn't "demean themselves" to befriend him. Unless absolutely necessary, they wouldn't even speak to him.

Gao Lingda didn't know this was called "cold violence." After several years at the academy, though no one dared bully him, no one would be his friend either. He was like a non-existent person, solitary as a ghost, wandering alone through the academy.

After his father Gao Tianshi's sudden death, the family had immediately fallen into a succession dispute. Actually, Gao Lingda had no interest in becoming Guangzhou's Chief Beggar—in his view, being cold-shouldered at the academy was entirely due to that "Chief Beggar" position.

But power struggles were never voluntary. He had quickly become a chess piece for his mother—the ambitious Seventh Concubine who hoped to "hold the Chief Beggar hostage to command the beggars"—and joined the succession battle. Many in the Guandi Temple faction rallied to his banner, creating no small uproar. He too had been manipulated like a puppet.

After losing the succession struggle, his birth mother Seventh Concubine had "committed suicide to follow her husband in death." Gao Lingxiang hadn't made things too difficult for this brother, allowing him to continue his studies. But he had stationed several subordinates to watch his every move.

At the academy, no one paid him any attention; at home, he was even more neglected. With both parents now dead, Gao Lingda's grief gave way only to a sense that the road ahead was dark and uncertain.

"Fifth Young Master, lunch is here!" came a call. The Gao family servant who delivered his meals had arrived.

Gao Lingda's meals had always been sent from home. Though after Seventh Concubine's death his status in the Gao household had plummeted, the food was still worlds apart from the academy fare.

The servant opened the food box and carefully laid out dishes on the table: Jinhua ham stir-fried with bamboo shoots, oil-and-salt sautéed wolfberry sprouts, wine-lees fish pieces, oyster sauce braised greens, and a large bowl of white rice.

"Fifth Young Master, this ham is from a tribute that arrived at the dock for the Eldest Young Master a few days ago—genuine Dongyang goods! The Eldest Young Master specifically ordered it made into a dish for you today." The servant introduced the food attentively.

Gao Lingda knew this servant was also one of his elder brother's people. His saying this was meant to convey his elder brother's "goodwill" while also reminding him that Gao Lingxiang had not forgotten him—he was watching constantly.

He knew that although his elder brother had become Chief Beggar, many of the dagu below were not convinced. He had to guard against this "loser" being used again as a rallying point.

"That really is thoughtful of Elder Brother." Gao Lingda had no choice but to play along.

The Gao family had always prized fine living. The few small dishes were prepared with excellent color, aroma, and taste—light and delicious. When they were brought out, the surrounding scholars who saw them felt their already full stomachs stirring again. They quickly turned away to chat with their classmates.

One said: "These past days I found a book of Australian geography. It says overseas there's a 'Rotten Country' where a scholar called 'Nudun' claims all things attract each other like magnets. How strange!"

Another replied: "Truly tales from overseas. If all things attract each other, why don't you and I stick together?"

A third said: "What was just said isn't necessarily without reason. I once saw an object at a Western church called a globe. It was perfectly round with two poles. They say it was brought from overseas by the Western missionary Matteo Ricci. If, as they claim, people all live on a ball, without attractive force, wouldn't they all fly off?"

(End of Chapter)