Chapter 213: The Scholar

The gatekeeper was a decrepit old man, sweeping the ground in front of the Minglun Hall. Currently, only the area around the Lingxing Gate and the Minglun Hall retained some semblance of order. The courtyard looked clean and tidy, but the roof of the Minglun Hall was already overgrown with thatch, and even small trees grew lushly upon it.

The doors and windows of the Jinde and Xiuye Halls were shut; the sounds of students reading had long since vanished. Wang Ci’s “office” was in the three-room hall behind the Minglun Hall, serving as both his workspace and living quarters. In the courtyard, the grass grew knee-high, and foxes and rats scurried about.

Wang Ci hailed from Luoyang in Henan. After failing the imperial examinations repeatedly, he was finally appointed a “tribute student” in his forties. This “tributary” status was a consolation for aging lin sheng (subsidized scholars) who had never managed to pass the provincial exams. It granted them eligibility for minor official posts. While it was a legitimate path into the bureaucracy, it was a step below Wu Mingjin’s “grand selection of provincial graduates,” and thus he could only serve in minor roles like county assistant, instructor, or education official.

This was how Wang Ci came to be the education official of Lingao. It was a cold and idle post with a meager salary, unlike the county magistrate who could afford to bring his family. He had only brought a single servant, Wang An, to take care of his daily needs.

Though the furnishings in his rooms were old and worn, Wang An kept them clean and tidy with his daily sweeping and dusting.

Wang Ci collapsed onto a bamboo couch and gulped down several mouthfuls of the cold tea that had been prepared. Wang An was not in the room; he had probably gone off to find some side work again. The education official’s salary was pitifully small, and Lingao was a tiny county with a weak literary tradition, offering no extra income. Wang Ci and his servant lived a very hard life.

Wang Ci had heard that his servant had recently found some sort of job that earned him a few extra coins to supplement their household expenses. He hadn’t thought much of it before, but today a sense of alarm struck him—could Wang An be working for the Australians?

The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed. In Lingao, the only ones who always had work to offer were the short-haired bandits! He decided to question Wang An thoroughly when he returned. If he was indeed working for the short-haired bandits, it would be best to make him quit. These people were skilled at bewitching others; he couldn’t let Wang An fall under their spell.

Thinking of the Australians, Wang Ci could only sigh. Their educational efforts had deeply shaken him, and Lu Da’s retort had left him speechless. “Education for all, without distinction”—could he truly claim to uphold that principle? The Australians were the ones truly practicing it.

But the education they provided was not the Four Books and Five Classics he knew. Even the script and writing style were different. If this continued, wouldn’t they be raising a generation of “Australian scholars”?

Wang Ci was no rigid pedant. He had sought Wu Nanhai’s help in managing the school lands precisely because he valued their practical, worldly knowledge. He had never expected the Australians to be so ambitious, not only using simplified characters but also changing the writing format and even creating their own “Pinyin script”! This was simply intolerable to him.

He had to find a way to stop them from continuing this chaotic transformation of the civilized into the barbarian!

As Wang Ci was deep in thought, the gatekeeper of the county school suddenly ran in, shouting, “Master Wang! Master Wang!”

“What is it? Such panic! What has become of your decorum!” Wang Ci waved the patched sleeve of his scholar’s robe with great composure and picked up a chipped teacup.

The gatekeeper panted, “The short-hairs—the Australians are here to pay their respects!”

“Ah!?” Wang Ci’s hand trembled, and tea spilled onto his lapel.

“Is it Master Wu?” Perhaps it was the Master Wu in charge of the school lands, coming to discuss something.

“Not Master Wu, it’s Master Xiong—” Xiong Buyou, being part of the Foreign Affairs Committee, was responsible for dealing with the county yamen. Nearly every official and runner in the county knew him.

This Master Xiong of the Australians had never visited him before. Wang Ci found it strange. Why would he come to the county school for no reason? He had no land to sell, no runners to command. It was the coldest, most idle of yamen. What could the Australians possibly want from him?

Could it be that his conversation with Lu Da had already been reported to the short-haired bandits, and this Master Xiong was here to settle scores? The education official was now in a panic. He was but a scholar. Forget the other party bringing soldiers; even in a one-on-one fight, given his physique, he would surely be the one to suffer. A beating was one thing, but the loss of his dignity as a scholar was another.

“Tell him, that I, um, am not in.”

“Well,” the gatekeeper said with difficulty, “Master Xiong knows you are—”

“Did he bring men with him?”

“He brought two attendants.” Seeing the education official’s alarm, the gatekeeper quickly added, “Master Xiong also brought gifts and spoke very politely.”

Wang Ci breathed a sigh of relief. If he had brought gifts, he was unlikely to be here to beat him up. He quickly said, “Invite him in, please.”

Xiong Buyou strode into the hall with his attendants and gifts. He gave a simple bow and announced his name. He had no official title; the ancients couldn’t make sense of the Crossing Group’s system of committees and members.

Wang Ci observed the man before him: tall and sturdy, dressed in the short-haired bandits’ short-sleeved tunic, a canvas belt around his waist, and a small green cloth bag slung over his shoulder. A machete hung from his belt. Though he didn’t know Xiong Buyou personally, he had long heard of him. It was said that this man had paraded into the city last year with several hundred pirate heads to present to Magistrate Wu. Since then, he had been a frequent visitor to the county yamen, the head of the short-haired bandits’ foreign relations.

“I am Wang Ci. May I ask what brings Chief Xiong here?” Wang Ci said, feigning composure with a cupped-hand salute.

“So you are the education official?”

“Indeed, I am.” Wang Ci responded cautiously.

“I’m so sorry to have neglected you all this time, haha,” Xiong Buyou laughed, looking around. “I didn’t expect the conditions here to be so poor!”

“The ancients said, to dwell in a humble room…”

“We can talk about the ancients later. Let’s talk about the present.” Xiong Buyou got straight to the point. “I hear the esteemed education official took a long trip today?”

“That is correct. A student of mine passed away yesterday. Out of respect for our bond as teacher and student, I had to go and see him off in person.” Hearing this was the subject, Wang Ci answered openly.

“I hear that your student unfortunately passed away, leaving his widow and orphans in difficult circumstances?”

They even knew about this. The transmigrators were truly well-informed. Wang Ci nodded and sighed, “Indeed. He leaves behind a widow and three children. Without a man to support the family, I don’t know what will become of them. The school and his fellow students have collected some funeral money, which should tide them over for now.”

As for the future, Wang Ci didn’t even want to think about it. The family had a small property, and with the master of the house not yet cold in his grave, relatives were already eyeing it greedily. A family of a widow and orphans was bound to be taken advantage of. As a minor education official and an outsider, he could do nothing to help.

“This is a small token of our sentiment.” Xiong Buyou took a white paper packet from his bag. “Please give this to them on our behalf, Master Wang.”

Wang Ci was stunned. What was this? Did this scholar have dealings with the short-haired bandits? He had never heard of such a thing. Why would they send funeral money to a complete stranger?

“How can I accept this?” Wang Ci thought. There was something very wrong with this money; he absolutely could not accept it. He waved his hands frantically. “First, they are strangers. Second, it would tarnish their reputation—”

“So, Master Wang still considers us ‘thieves’?”

Wang Ci realized his slip of the tongue and quickly explained, “No, no, what I meant was: your esteemed group and my late student are strangers. Now, with a widow and orphans, sending funeral money might, I fear, invite gossip and ruin their good name. I implore the Chief to reconsider.”

His words were reasonably tactful. Xiong Buyou didn’t press the matter, but he didn’t take back the packet either. He simply said:

“This is not my sentiment alone, but represents the entire Australian Group. Since we are residing in Lingao for the long term, this place is our home as well. This is our small contribution to the scholars of our home. Do not overthink it, Master.”

His tone was firm. Wang Ci wanted to flick his sleeves and leave, to display the backbone of a Ming scholar-official, but looking at Xiong Buyou’s tiger-like eyes and the machete at his waist, he finally gave a slight nod.

“I will accept this sentiment on their behalf.” In any case, it was a good deed. Besides, he couldn’t see how the short-haired bandits could possibly exploit a widow and her orphans.

Seeing the pedant reluctantly accept, Xiong Buyou felt a flicker of contempt. He had been prepared for a righteous scolding from the education official, but he hadn’t expected the so-called “scholar’s backbone” to be so flimsy.

“The funeral gift is three hundred yuan in circulation coupons,” Xiong Buyou said, pointing to the packet. “After the mourning period, they will receive an additional monthly subsidy of fifty yuan. It is a meager sum, but it should be enough to sustain them.”

Wang Ci was dumbfounded. A monthly subsidy as well?! His mind couldn’t process it, and he stood there in a daze.

“Master Wang!” Xiong Buyou called out, seeing him stunned.

“Ah? Oh, yes, yes.” Wang Ci’s feelings were a complex mix of joy and sorrow. Joy, because with this money, the scholar’s family would not starve, and with the Australians involved, the relatives eyeing their small property would not dare to act rashly. It was a gift of new life for the family. Sorrow, because the short-haired bandits’ intentions were all too clear. First, they had won over the ignorant peasants in the countryside, then they had co-opted the officials in the yamen, and now, their hands were reaching into the world of scholars. Step by step, their plans were meticulous and flawless. Their intentions were truly “punishable by heart.”

Wang Ci now felt that handing over the school lands to the Australians had been a mistake. When the autumn harvest came and the stipends were distributed to the subsidized students, wouldn’t everyone know it was thanks to the short-haired bandits? At this thought, Wang Ci was filled with regret. He had been so short-sighted, letting the short-haired bandits get their hands in for the sake of a little money and grain.

Xiong Buyou watched the education official’s face turn from pale to red, having no idea what was going through his mind. In truth, Wang Ci was overestimating his own importance. According to the Executive Committee’s long-term plan, winning over the local intellectuals was always going to happen, with or without the matter of the school lands. The scholars of Lingao were all targets.