Chapter 106: 'Learning the Barbarians' Long Skills to Subdue the Barbarians'

Although he psychologically despised the Australians’ “techniques” as not being the “right path,” Huang Bingkun took the existence of the Australians and their growing power—so powerful that it could deceive many people, even those scholars who were well-versed in the classics, who willingly debased themselves—very seriously. He was not an ostrich who buried his head in the sand. He knew that to defeat the Australians, one had to “learn the barbarians’ long skills to subdue the barbarians.” To defeat the enemy, one must first understand the enemy. Second Young Master Huang had followed his old master in fighting bandits since he was a child and knew the importance of knowing oneself and one’s enemy.

To implement his strategy of “learning the barbarians’ long skills to subdue the barbarians” and to learn more about the short-hairs’ internal affairs, shortly after the establishment of the County Consultative Bureau, he took the opportunity of his father, Huang Shoutong, being appointed a “commissioner.” He discussed with his old father sending his personal servant, Huang Ping, to study at Fangcaodi to learn the Australians’ skills and to spy on the short-hairs’ internal affairs. The gentry who had become commissioners all sent their own children to study to show their sincerity.

At the time, Huang Shoutong had frowned for a long time without speaking, as if he felt it was “inappropriate.” Huang Bingkun repeatedly explained his intentions. In the end, Huang Shoutong sighed and said, “The Huang family’s property in Lin’gao cannot be wasted on useless disputes of pride. Bingkun, we must see the bigger picture!”

Finally, the old master of the Huang family village agreed to his second son’s suggestion and sent Huang Bingkun’s personal servant and study companion, Huang Ping, to study at Fangcaodi. Huang Ping was a distant relative of the Huang family and had followed Huang Bingkun since he was a child. He was a reliable person.

In the first few months after Huang Ping went to study at Fangcaodi, he would return to the Huang family village for a day’s rest every half a month, or two weeks as the Australians called it. After returning, he would report everything he had seen and heard at the school to Second Young Master Huang and would also hand over his textbooks and supplementary materials to Huang Bingkun. Huang Bingkun would immediately arrange for people to copy them.

Every time he came back, Huang Ping was like a happy little bird, chattering non-stop. No matter where Huang Bingkun was, he would rush back to listen to Huang Ping talk about his studies at Fangcaodi as soon as he returned.

Huang Bingkun always listened very carefully to his servant. This once taciturn boy had gradually become talkative since going to Fangcaodi. Every time he came back, he had endless topics to talk about with everyone: his studies, the school environment, his classmates, and his teachers.

After Huang Ping finally finished talking, Huang Bingkun would always praise him a few times and remind him not to forget the “words of the sages” and not to be “deceived by the short-hairs.” Huang Ping would always agree meekly and then go to reunite with his parents.

Huang Ping’s parents farmed in the Huang family village. Since their son went to school, every time they met Second Young Master Huang, they would always have a silly smile on their faces and thank him profusely for the “young master’s great kindness.” This made Huang Bingkun feel very proud. He had both spied on the short-hairs’ secrets and won the hearts of the people.

Huang Bingkun spent a lot of time studying the copied textbooks and supplementary materials, hoping to find the secret method for making large cannons, muskets, and big iron ships. Unfortunately, although the short-hairs’ textbooks used Chinese characters, the arithmetic and natural science courses used a large number of letters to represent things, so Second Young Master Huang couldn’t understand them. Besides, although Huang Ping was already fourteen when he enrolled, he could only start from the first grade of the primary school department. The three courses in the first grade of Fangcaodi’s primary school—mathematics, language, and natural science—did not talk about the “techniques” that Huang Bingkun most wanted to know.

Although he had not systematically studied mathematics, he had some knowledge of traditional arithmetic such as the chicken and rabbit in a cage problem and the abacus. After some research, although there were many symbols and numbers he couldn’t understand, the Chinese word problems and mathematical theorems were still written in Chinese characters, and he could roughly understand seven or eight out of ten.

For Huang Bingkun, he could understand every character in the mathematical theorems, but when they were connected, he couldn’t understand what they meant. On the other hand, he could roughly understand the meaning of the word problems. They were all practical problems from daily life, from measuring fields and calculating yields, to digging ponds and building houses, to trade and commerce. They were very practical.

Learning this is also a skill, Huang Bingkun thought. In the future, when Huang Ping comes back, he can also be of some use, as a manager or something.

Useful as it was, Huang Bingkun couldn’t solve a single problem. He stared blankly at the problems in the math book for half a day. He wanted to ask Huang Ping for help, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He thought about it and decided that since this business of measuring fields and trade had nothing to do with the short-hairs’ making of firearms and cannons, it didn’t matter if he didn’t understand.

So he picked up the natural science book. Huang Ping said this course was the study of things, specializing in the changes of heaven, earth, and all things. In fact, it was elementary physics, chemistry, and biology, with illustrations and text. Huang Bingkun read a few pages and found it quite interesting, especially a chapter on buoyancy, which used a ship as an example: why can a ship float on water? Huang Bingkun immediately became interested and read it carefully.

When he read, “The buoyant force acting on an object in water is equal to the weight of the water displaced by the object. The larger the ship, the deeper it sinks, which means the greater the weight of the water displaced by the ship, and the greater the buoyant force on the ship, so of course it can carry more things,” he couldn’t help but mutter, “Nonsense!”

In Huang Bingkun’s view, the reason a ship could float on water was because it was made of wood. Wood could float on water, so a ship could also float on water.

However, the Australians’ iron ships had seriously shaken this concept, so his “nonsense” was not very confident. He had a feeling that although he didn’t quite understand it, what the Australians said was reasonable. Among them, he basically understood the transformation of the three states of matter. The examples given, such as water turning into ice and water turning into steam, were things he often saw.

He read the natural science book over and over again for a long time, almost unable to put it down. Although he had someone copy the book, the pictures on it could not be drawn. He heard from Huang Ping that this book was also sold in the bookstore in Dongmen City, so he had the idea of buying a few copies himself.

He flipped through the language book. Apart from the pinyin letters that he didn’t think much of and couldn’t understand, he didn’t have much of an aversion to the content. The first-grade textbook focused on literacy, with simple short sentences and short texts, all in Australian vernacular. It also contained many simple principles, mostly those repeatedly advocated by the Australians, such as hygiene and politeness, which were nothing more than for the purpose of educating the people. Although the words were crude, the intention was still good.

After getting the three textbooks and hearing many anecdotes about Fangcaodi from Huang Ping, Huang Bingkun felt that he had gained a lot. He became more and more convinced that this was a brilliant move. He decided to write a Record of Essential Information on the Short-hairs based on the materials collected by Huang Ping and what he had seen and heard in his daily life, and to present it to the court when he had the opportunity in the future.

But things gradually changed. The implementation of public ox-carts in Lin’gao, while providing convenience, also shortened the travel time within the county. In the past, it took an early start to walk from Fangcaodi to the Huang family village, arriving at dusk. With the ox-carts, one could leave in the morning and still arrive at the Huang family village for lunch. However, Huang Ping’s visits home became less and less frequent, from every half a month to twenty days, and then to once a month. After being promoted to the second grade of primary school, apart from coming back for holidays, he would just send letters home to report that he was safe, and simply didn’t come back at all.

Although he couldn’t understand the content of the short-hairs’ textbooks, what made Huang Bingkun even more uneasy was that Huang Ping, the boy from the Huang family village, his former servant, seemed to be gradually slipping out of his control.

As for Huang Bingkun’s proposal to visit Fangcaodi, Liu Dalin, the headmaster of the Jasmine Pavilion, had always been noncommittal. Since the Australians had cured his illness and given him more than a year of rehabilitation, not only had his overall health improved greatly, but he could also gradually walk without a wheelchair, leaning on a cane with support.

Logically, this was a joyous occasion. After all, Liu Dalin was not yet forty, in the prime of his life. In the past, he had been plagued by a chronic illness and could not achieve much. Many times, he could only lend his name to things. Now that his health had improved, it was a time for great achievements. Therefore, many of the local gentry and scholars had asked him to take up a post in the County Consultative Bureau to “serve his hometown.” The Australians had always respected this Scholar Liu, and if he could come forward on many matters, it would be beneficial to everyone.

However, Scholar Liu seemed to have become a different person. He spoke less and refused the suggestion to join the County Consultative Bureau. Every day, he would only go to the Jasmine Pavilion to lecture. As soon as the lecture was over, he would go straight home and refuse visitors. It was said that he even read very little, as if he had a lot on his mind.

The students at the Jasmine Pavilion were also becoming fewer and fewer day by day. The grand occasion when all the county’s licentiates came to study when it was renovated and reopened was gone. Except for a few, most of the licentiates had also figured it out. Instead of studying hard here, barely supporting themselves with a monthly subsidy of a few dozen yuan, with their ability to read and write, they could get a job with the Australians. Even if they went to the purification camp to be a tutor, teaching the refugees to read the Thousand Character Classic and the Hundred Family Surnames, it was not a problem to support their families. As for passing the imperial examination for the xiucai degree, what was the use of passing it in Lin’gao? The Australians had implemented a unified grain tax, and the benefit of a xiucai being exempt from two stones of grain was long gone. Not having to kneel before officials and not being beaten—these had no meaning with the Australians. No one had to kneel before the Australians, and the Australians were not like the court officials who would beat people’s buttocks at the drop of a hat.

Besides, the imperial examinations in Lin’gāo had never been very successful. Except for the xiucai degree, which had a fixed quota for each county and was still something to hope for, the juren and jinshi degrees were as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns. From the establishment of the county in the Tang Dynasty to the Ming Dynasty, only Liu Dalin had passed the jinshi examination, and there were only about a dozen juren. Those who had passed the xiucai examination did not have much hope of passing the juren examination, let alone the licentiates who were not even xiucai.