Chapter 110: A Visit to Fangcao Academy (Part 2)

The classroom was full. Although the students were initially curious about the visiting delegation, they all focused on the lecture once class began, no longer paying any attention to the back of the room. A few of the scholars, however, sighed and shook their heads upon seeing the many female students in skirts. While this was no longer news, they still felt that having boys and girls studying together in the same room was a serious breach of propriety. Not to mention, the skirts barely covered the knees, and their calves were wrapped only in a thin layer of form-fitting stockings.

Huang Binkun noted that the students stood and bowed to greet the teacher before class, thinking to himself that at least the short-haired bandits still knew to respect their educators. Today’s lesson was a science class. The instructor, a Yuanlao surnamed Dong, was explaining the very thing Huang had been curious about: how the bandits’ iron ships could float on water. The Yuanlao not only lectured but also drew diagrams on the blackboard. Finally, he brought out a glass tank and a piece of tin foil. First, he crumpled the foil into a ball and dropped it into the tank, where it sank. Then, he retrieved it, folded it into the shape of a boat, and placed it back in the water. The foil boat floated. The demonstration was so intuitive and easy to understand that not only the students found it interesting, but the members of the tour group also watched with fascination.

Although Huang Binkun found it interesting and vaguely understood why an iron ship could float, his mind was in turmoil. The military drill he had witnessed earlier had shaken him to the core. Even though he had only seen the end of it, the neat formations and orderly discipline were rarely seen even in the court’s finest troops. It was one thing for the bandits to train their army this way, but to drill even young schoolchildren with such rigor—what was their ultimate goal? Could they truly be planning to rebel and seize the empire?

Having studied the classics, Huang Binkun was familiar with the saying, “He who has strong soldiers and sturdy horses becomes the Son of Heaven.” But the bandits were already strong. Even if they couldn’t conquer the entire country, taking the two Guangdong provinces would be as easy as reaching into a bag to grab something. Why weren’t they doing that? Why were they instead pouring so much energy, manpower, and resources into schools? The scale of this academy was already unimaginably large. What did the bandits need so many educated people for?

Huang Binkun felt lost. At first, he thought this band of short-haired bandits was, at best, like Zheng Zhilong of Fujian, aiming to become a powerful maritime force. After they crushed the imperial army at the Battle of Chengmai, his spirits had sunk to rock bottom, thinking the bandits would become a second coming of the Manchu invaders, destined to rule Hainan as their own domain.

But today, visiting the bandits’ school and seeing their methods of teaching and scholarship, he realized their ambitions were far greater than those of Zheng Zhilong or the Manchus. The subjects they taught had almost nothing to do with the sage’s wisdom and were entirely practical skills. The students were not only locals but also included many children with northern accents. There were not only boys but also an equal number of girls. Most importantly, the vast majority of students were the children of poor families who had been illiterate for generations, with only a few from the gentry class of scholar-officials. After these people graduated, what would they do? What kind of world would the Great Ming become in their hands? Huang Binkun suddenly dared not think any further.

Dong Yizhi, while lecturing from the podium, kept a slanted eye on the “inspection team” sitting together at the back. The primary school science class had only been going for a short while, but apart from the frowning Liu Dalin, the stoic Wang Ci, and the distracted Huang Binkun, most of the “scholars” were already dozing off.

The children, on the other hand, were listening with rapt attention. “It’s always easiest to draw on a blank sheet of paper,” Teacher Dong thought to himself. “Let me be the one to shape these children.” As for the old guard, it was simply casting pearls before swine.

As a “soy sauce” Yuanlao with no particular specialty or expertise, Teacher Dong felt he had little chance of standing out in any of the Executive Committee’s departments. Rather than languishing in an unimportant administrative role, he decided it was better to get close to the naturalized citizens, especially the next generation. Leaving a good impression of a respected teacher on these future pillars of the new society was, in a way, a method of building his own prestige.

The sudden ringing of a bell startled most of the “inspection team.” Before they could understand what was happening, they heard a student at the front shout, “Class dismissed!” All the students then stood up in unison, bowed to the stage, and said, “Goodbye, teacher.” Liu Dalin, who had been listening attentively, slowly turned his head and whispered to Wang Ci, who was sitting closest to him, “Although the Australians are not skilled in literature, their scholarship is practical and they practice the principle of ‘education for all without discrimination.’ However, what they teach is the art of slaying dragons, a skill useless to the Great Ming. When these thousands of students complete their studies, what will they do?”

“What the Australians teach is merely the study of things—the trivial skills of craftsmen. How can it be compared to the art of governing a state?” Wang Ci said dismissively. He felt the “art of slaying dragons” was too high an praise. Could building a ship be considered “scholarship”? If so, wouldn’t a bunch of artisans all be called “masters”?

Wang Ci’s vehement denial stemmed from the fact that he hadn’t understood a single word of the lecture from beginning to end. This gave him a profound sense of failure—a feeling that had been building since his very first contact with the Australians. Now, hearing Jinshi Liu use such a term to describe their learning, he was practically fuming.

Before their debate could unfold, Yuanlao Dong approached them with a broad smile. The inspection team had requested to eat and live with the students for a few days to fully experience the unique character of the Fangcao Educational Garden. Yuanlao Dong had already arranged their accommodations according to this request.

“Gentlemen, you’ve had a long journey. Please, let’s get you settled in your dormitories to rest. I will host a welcome lunch for you at noon.”

Most of the men in the inspection team were scholars, unaccustomed to physical labor and used to being served at home. The morning’s travel, combined with sitting through a lecture they couldn’t understand, had left them quite weary. Hearing that there was a place to rest, they all readily agreed.

Dong Yizhi led the inspection team to the dormitory area. Since most Fangcao students were boarders, the dormitories were extensive. The two-story, “longhouse”-style buildings, with large rooms accommodating thirty people each, made the place feel more like a military barracks than a school dormitory. As guests, the inspection team was naturally not housed in such conditions but was instead assigned to the single faculty dormitory.

The faculty dormitory was similar in appearance to the student dorms, but each room housed only four people. In Lingao, this was considered excellent treatment. This was mainly due to the immense workload of the naturalized teaching staff. They engaged in both mental and physical labor, spending at least twelve hours a day on teaching, administrative work, and further study. After work, they still had to grade assignments and prepare for the next day’s lessons, so good living and sleeping conditions were essential.

The inspection team was assigned to these same dormitories, but with the preferential treatment of only two people per room. Second Young Master Huang ended up sharing a room with Instructor Wang, as he felt that among the group, only Instructor Wang shared his interests and temperament.

“This room is quite clean,” Instructor Wang remarked as he surveyed the dormitory. In truth, this room with its wooden floor was a hundred times cleaner than his own quarters at the Confucian academy. At first, he even felt hesitant to step on it. The floors in the academy were paved with century-old bricks that were impossible to ever sweep completely clean, no matter how hard the janitors worked. Not to mention the leaky roof tiles, cracked beams, and the rampant spiders and rats.

The room was not large, and the furnishings were simple: two beds, two small desks, and two chairs with backrests. Previously, this room had been furnished with four loft beds with desks underneath. Considering that these men were older and not used to physical labor, making them climb up and down bunk beds would have been too much of a challenge, so the furniture had been specially replaced.

The room was spotless, with a large glass window that let in plenty of light. On the wall was a gas lamp for use at night.

Wang Ci sat on the bed, curiously touching the bedding. It was all made of undyed cotton cloth, which felt slightly coarse, but he could tell it had been freshly launded and was very clean and crisp. He had originally prepared his own bedroll, but he was told before departure that it wouldn’t be necessary. It was clear the Australians had been very thoughtful in their arrangements for them, which slightly improved Wang Ci’s mood.

“The… Australians are obsessed with cleanliness, as you know, sir,” Huang Binkun said. “They focus so much on trivial details. Their vision is too narrow; they’ll never achieve anything great!”

Wang Ci, who already had a bone to pick with the bandits, found Second Young Master Huang’s words to his liking. “You are right, my dear brother,” he immediately replied. “Everything the Australians do smacks of a shrewd, harsh pettiness…”

Just as the two were about to elaborate on the “shrewd, harsh, and petty” nature of the bandits, footsteps echoed from the corridor outside. They exchanged a look and immediately fell silent. At that moment, a young woman in a female “imitation-short-hair” uniform entered. Her name badge read: Fangcao Educational Garden, Academic Affairs.

“Gentlemen, here are your room keys and meal cards. Please keep the keys safe; there’s a fee for replacement. You can use these cards to get three free meals a day at the cafeteria,” the female administrator said, handing over two envelopes.

As she spoke, her red lips parted slightly and her eyes crinkled with a smile, causing Wang Ci to feel instantly weak in the knees. Unlike the married Second Young Master Huang, he had been serving his post alone for many years. Being a man of strict moral principles, he neither visited prostitutes nor had any interest in men, so he had no outlet for his desires and could only endure, living like a monk. He usually spent his time at the academy and rarely encountered any attractive young women, which helped him maintain a state of mind “like dead wood and cold ashes.” Now, suddenly face-to-face with a well-nourished young woman who had blossomed under the care of the Yuanlao, her slim-fitting uniform tightly wrapping a body full of youthful vitality, Wang Ci immediately had a certain physiological reaction. When she turned to leave, the slight sway of her waist and hips and the gentle swing of her skirt made it even harder for him to control himself. For a moment, he was completely dumbfounded, his eyes seemingly hooked onto her back.