Chapter 444: The Suitor

“That concludes last week’s review. So, what are we discussing today? As you all know, not long ago, a group of so-called ‘martial heroes’ caused a major disturbance in Lingao. Why did they do it?” Hu Qingbai began today’s lesson. “They had many objectives, but one of them was to steal the industrial secrets of our Ausong state…”

“Our Political Security Bureau foiled their plot. According to the confessions of these so-called heroes, they came in search of our supposed ‘Australian secret formulas.’ And while they were at it, they planned to kidnap or bribe a few ‘Australian artisans’ to serve them in the territories of the Ming Dynasty.”

“As everyone knows, there are many, many reasons for the Senate’s invincibility—some are our own strengths, and some are our enemies’ weaknesses. But where does our fundamental strength come from? Student Cao Cao, why don’t you tell us?”

Liu Xiang was taken aback. Such a domineering name! He looked closely, only to see a small, skinny boy who showed no sign of having the potential of a great conqueror.

“We have industry, and we possess the most powerful productive forces…”

“Very correct. And our industry is a complete system. It’s not something that can be achieved through the wisdom of a single person or some secret formula. This is something the officials and gentry of the Ming Dynasty find difficult to understand. In their eyes, industry is synonymous with artisans; their thinking is still stuck in the small workshop era.”

“So, if the Ming officials and gentry got their hands on our ‘secret formulas’ and tried to replicate our success, what do you think would happen? Today, I’m going to show you two excerpts from private notes we recently collected from the mainland. I need two students to come up and read them. Please raise your hands!”

“The firearms manuals of the cropped-hair bandits are filled with falsehoods. One method, called ‘core-gouging cannon casting,’ describes forging an iron pillar, heating it red-hot, and then carving out its core with a sharp, iron-cutting blade to form the barrel. A note adds that the point of carving should be doused with cold water to prevent the carving tool from melting. However, all attempts by the Governor-General to cast cannons this way have failed. Later, a scholar versed in the I Ching and Western miscellany explained the fallacy of this method. He stated that red-hot iron is of the fire element. Dousing it with cold water creates a clash of Kan and Li, a struggle between dragon and tiger. The resulting explosion is due to a conflict between yin and yang, an imbalance unacceptable to Heaven and Earth. Judging by the name ‘core-gouging,’ the cropped-hair bandits must use some wicked sorcery to make this technique work. Our dynasty should prohibit this method.”

Laughter spread through the classroom.

“Don’t laugh, students. This next piece is even more brilliant.”

“The cropped-hair bandits rely on black magic for all their crafts. When they first appeared in Guangdong, they became famous for their glassware. Later, a merchant smuggled their books to Hangzhou. A profit-seeker cherry-picked sections and compiled them into Secret Cropped-Hair Methods, which he presented to a wealthy merchant. This book included the method for making glassware. Upon acquiring it, the merchant attempted to replicate it, but only one or two out of ten attempts were successful. The rest either shattered in the kiln or exploded and injured people upon removal. As it happened, a manager who had studied the I Ching since childhood saw the matter clearly. He reported: ‘This method uses the fire of Li to forge the essence of Wu earth. It seizes the very ingenuity of creation and is thus hard for Heaven and Earth to accept, hence the frequent destruction…’”

As expected, the second piece triggered an even bigger wave of laughter, especially after the last sentence was read out, which sent the whole class into hysterics.

Hu Qingbai deliberately waited a moment before restoring order. “Alright, students. You can now raise your hands and share your thoughts.”

A forest of arms shot up.

Hu Qingbai savored the enthusiastic classroom atmosphere with satisfaction, then called on a student: “Student Ke Leier!”

Liu Xiang chuckled to himself. This Ke Leier was the student he sponsored. His father’s name was Ke Ke. He wasn’t a foreigner, but a genuine local. Ke Ke was a carpenter who worked at the woodworking factory. When Liu Xiang was looking for someone at the factory for a personal project—building a model ship—he discovered that not only was the man’s craftsmanship excellent, but his son was also remarkably clever and skilled. The boy could grasp orthographic projections as soon as they were taught, so Liu Xiang recommended him for school.

“Teacher. I believe the Ming Dynasty’s understanding of science is very limited. It’s not that they have no science, but that their science is still at an empirical stage. This is determined not only by the poor economic conditions and low literacy of the artisans themselves but also by the lack of understanding among Ming merchants and gentry, who despise the artisans’ skills…” Ke Leier stood up and spoke eloquently, perhaps because Liu Xiang was sitting behind him.

Ke Leier’s explanation was straight from the Senate-approved textbook, nothing new there. But to be able to state it so clearly, connect it to the examples, and present it in an organized manner was quite impressive.

After sitting through an entire “Weekly Current Affairs” political education class, Liu Xiang finally went to greet Hu Qingbai after the bell.

“Well, well! The old boss is looking as sharp as ever!” Liu Xiang extended his hand to Hu Qingbai first.

Hu Qingbai dusted the chalk from his hands, shook Liu Xiang’s, and joked, “You deserter, you’re a rare sight around here!”

The two exchanged some pleasantries about their time apart, and then Liu Xiang asked about Ke Leier’s academic progress. Since Hu Qingbai was the head teacher of the elite “Selection Group,” he was naturally well-informed—otherwise, he wouldn’t have deliberately called on Ke Leier to answer a question earlier.

“That student is decent in math and physics, but not so good at biology and chemistry. Then again, performance in those two subjects is generally poor across the board. We’re considering changing the textbooks…” Hu Qingbai and Liu Xiang had barely exchanged a few sentences before he had to rush off. He had work to attend to—Hu Qingbai’s official position was People’s Commissar for Education. Originally, the education department was small, consisting almost entirely of the Fangcaodi school, so he was mainly a teacher and curriculum developer. Now, with a larger population and territory, schools had to be established everywhere, and large-scale vocational education had to be rolled out, which significantly increased his administrative workload.

Liu Xiang didn’t mind. The education department was always that busy. Besides, he was currently in a state of “undetermined status.” It wasn’t appropriate to directly discuss how the education department could support his next move with Hu Qingbai just yet—he’d at least have to go through the procedures at the Organization Department that afternoon before having that conversation.

Liu Xiang strolled around the campus with his two guards, Lindenwan and “The Eighth Grid,” listening in on one classroom and peeking into another. Liu Xiang was mainly interested in observing the upper primary school. He wanted to judge for himself the quality of the five-year full-time education.

The upper primary classes were small, and the age difference between students wasn’t large. The few noticeably older students were likely sponsored by other Senators. However, in the class Liu Xiang was “auditing,” the most impressive student was a girl. He couldn’t quite catch her name due to the naturalized teacher’s slight accent; he couldn’t even tell if her surname was Bao or Bo. The lesson was on geometry, but it was obvious the teacher was underprepared, relying entirely on reading from the lesson plan. The problem on the blackboard had more than just the one solution she had prepared. She had now been bested by this female student. The teacher stood in the aisle between the first and second groups of desks, watching along with the other students as the girl on the podium explained a more concise solution.

“As the problem states, ABCD is a triangular pyramid where all four faces are right-angled triangles. From this, we know that the edge DE is perpendicular to DC…”

Liu Xiang listened and nodded, but he sighed internally—it would be impossible to pull senior students for administrative internships directly. They were too few and too precious…

He wasn’t the first outbound Senator to have ideas about using Fangcaodi students. During the “Engine Project,” a group of Fangcaodi students had been “borrowed” for administrative internships in Kaohsiung. After graduation, they were assigned to cadre positions in Taiwan and Jeju. The problem was that he was now considering if he could recruit from the upper primary school or even the elite “Selection Group.” After all, you couldn’t just cultivate cadres at a basic level; you needed some elite talent as well.

Before long, Liu Xiang wandered over to the academy for the Selection Group and the “First Generation.” He asked the guard and learned that they were all in the science building for a chemistry experiment, and the class would be over in five minutes.

Liu Xiang left his guards behind and strolled over to the science building himself. This small, reinforced concrete building, the most luxurious structure when Fangcaodi was first completed, now had ivy climbing its outer walls, giving it a certain charm. The Senate had truly invested a great deal in education…

“Huh? That guy looks familiar. Who was he, from the Army?” While waiting outside for the class to end, Liu Xiang suddenly saw another Senator burst into the science building’s lobby. “Oh, it’s that Germanophile, Zhang Bolin! What’s he doing here?”

Clang! Clang! Clang! There was no electric bell, just a bronze bell specially cast by the steelworks.

“Uncle Liu… Greetings, Chief!” Ke Leier ran out as soon as the bell rang. After the political class, Liu Xiang had been talking to Hu Qingbai and hadn’t let Ke Leier come over. The fact that he had been sought out now made the young boy especially happy.

“Well now! The young man has gotten stronger!” Liu Xiang patted his shoulder. “Let your dad get a good look at you later! He’s coming to the East Gate Market in a few days to take the fitter certification exam. You’ll be able to see him soon!”

“Thank you, Chief!”

…

As they were exchanging greetings, Liu Xiang caught sight of Zhang Bolin pulling Zhang Yunmi aside to talk about something.

“Could it be… about yesterday?” Liu Xiang muttered to himself, then quickly shook his head, thinking, “Forget it. Better not get involved in this.”

But as they were talking, Ke Leier noticed Liu Xiang suddenly shake his head and couldn’t help but ask, “Chief? Is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing, just remembered something. Don’t you have to hurry to your next class? Study hard. When your dad gets to the East Gate Market, I’ll treat your family to a meal! Off you go!” Liu Xiang figured the break was almost over and started shooing him away.

“Ha! Great! Thank you, Chief! I can finally get a good meal!” Ke Leier, who had a bit of a mischievous personality, gave a salute, bid farewell to Liu Xiang, and dashed off to his classroom.

Liu Xiang looked back and saw that Zhang Yunmi seemed to be having a bit of a tantrum. She spun around resentfully and went into the classroom, leaving Zhang Bolin standing outside alone.

“Just as I thought… Better not get involved!” Liu Xiang didn’t reveal himself. Instead, he waited a while longer to avoid an awkward encounter with Zhang Bolin. After Zhang Bolin had left, Liu Xiang slowly went downstairs and left without “inspecting” the junior “First Generation’s” classroom.

Time to head to Bairen City. Grab some lunch, then off to the Organization Department…