Chapter 123: Small Arts Can Reveal the Great Path, The Emperor’s Request

"Technique is the method by which we test the Dao... Others may not see it this way, but that is how I, your nephew, think!"

Zhang Yi lowered his head in thought, offering Zhu Yuanzhang a novel perspective.

"The Dao is the subjective interpretation of the world by the sages. It is just like how I believe you, Uncle, are a good man..."

Zhang Yi continued:

"However, my belief that you are a good man does not necessarily mean you are one. You might be a highway bandit cloaked in a merchant’s guise, a hypocrite with a human face but a beast’s heart, or perhaps even that bloodthirsty Emperor himself..."

Zhang Yi spoke casually, but his words gave the father and son a jolt. What was he hinting at? Yet, seeing Zhang Yi’s calm expression, the two realized they were overthinking.

"If I want to know if you are a good man, I must observe and verify it myself. That is technique. But my observations may not be accurate, because such a method of observation is not objective enough. You might be kind to me, yet not a filial person; you might be sincere to me, yet be swindling and cheating others elsewhere. So-called technique is, in essence, the verification of self-cognition. And this verification can also be non-objective... Therefore, we need an objective tool. This tool could be mathematics, or something else entirely."

"Are you questioning whether the words of the sages are the truth?"

Zhang Yi’s statement was, in fact, quite dangerous. If a scholar of Neo-Confucianism were present, they would likely point at him and rail against his heresy. But Old Zhu was not a man who lived by the rules, and he even felt a faint sense of mutual understanding regarding Zhang Yi’s rhetoric.

"What is truth? The sun rising in the east and setting in the west is an objective existence. When an old man sees the sun and moon rise and fall, he sighs at the passage of time—is his sorrow the truth? When a child watches the sun and moon rise and fall, counting on his fingers and hoping to grow up, is his joy the truth? Today, our Great Ming honors Neo-Confucianism, 'preserving heavenly principles and extinguishing human desires.' Women are expected to uphold virtue and be martyrs... But what of Emperor Wu of Han’s mother? Why, when both eras exclusively honored Confucianism, is there a discrepancy between the sage-words of the Han and the Neo-Confucianism of today? Just like the Emperor’s civil service examination reforms, which forbid scholars from changing—but if they do not change, where would the Cheng-Zhu Neo-Confucianism come from? And even if the Emperor wants to remain unchanged, can he block the changes of this world?"

"In fact, I believe the only truth in this world is that change is the only constant. So, rather than contemplating those lofty, high-minded principles, I care more about things that can change lives. It is not my arrogance, but with a single method of inoculation, my contribution to this world outweighs all the great scholars of this age!"

Zhang Yi rarely spoke with such boldness. Even when he offered critiques on the state of the world, he usually left some room for restraint. But now that he was being audacious, both Old Zhu and Zhu Biao looked on, silent and stunned. He had the grounds for his arrogance. A seven-year-old child had utilized Mount Longhu and even the Emperor himself to promote the inoculation method. Across the lands of the Great Ming, the sound of commoners chanting the "Most High’s Scripture on the Wondrous Method of Inoculation" was endless. The practice of inoculation had already taken root among the people. It was foreseeable that in the future of the Hongwu era and beyond, while one could not say smallpox would be eradicated, countless lives would certainly be saved!

Zhang Yi said that all the great scholars of the world combined were not his equal, and in a sense, he was right.

"In fact, I believe that the small changes in this world are mostly accumulated from the 'small techniques' that the scholar-official class looks down upon. The appearance of the stirrup made cavalry the kings of the battlefield; the appearance of the curved-shaft plow increased productivity several times over... Papermaking, printing, the abacus, the loom—which of these did not subtly change the world? Without papermaking, those scholar-officials would still be using bamboo slips to write; without printing, the spread of knowledge would be impossible! That scholar-official class enjoys the changes brought to the world by the common folk, yet spends their days talking about the 'Great Dao.' I do not like it!"

Perhaps he had not expressed his true thoughts for a long time, and after finishing, Zhang Yi’s face was slightly flushed. He hurriedly took a sip of boiled water to moisten his parched lips.

Zhu Yuanzhang and Zhu Biao were left dumbfounded by his outpouring. Old Zhu had come intending to ask about his views on the civil service examination reforms, but he had unexpectedly been hit by at least two major bombshells: the inclusion of mathematics in the exams and the inherent flaws of the royal clan. The resulting discussion on "small techniques" versus the "Great Dao" left Old Zhu deep in thought.

He was a farmer by birth and had no predisposition to distinguish between the Dao and technique. Confucian scholars, from the moment they began to study, developed a sense of superiority, regardless of whether they were born poor or noble. Their education rarely focused on the changes brought by small techniques.

But Old Zhu was different. He was not born a scholar. He learned to read and study the classics later, guided hand-in-hand by Empress Ma and influenced by men like Li Shanchang and Liu Bowen. Do not be misled by his reverence for Neo-Confucianism and Confucianism; that was merely a necessity for his rule. At his core, he was a rebel against tradition, and he lacked respect for the so-called Confucian religion. On the contrary, he found himself resonating deeply with Zhang Yi’s logic.

"Mathematics is the mother of 'technique'... that seems to make some sense!"

Zhang Yi had rarely spoken so much, and Old Zhu felt he needed time to digest it all. Especially the issue regarding the royal clan, which left him feeling incredibly depressed. A simple, rustic wish of an old farmer was to see his descendants live well and for the Zhu family to flourish. Yet, this brat Zhang Yi had shattered that dream before it could even be fully realized. Dammit, now that he was the Emperor, why couldn't he even afford to support his own descendants?

Old Zhu had long since stopped thinking about the trivialities of the eight-legged essay. Seeing him looking gloomy, Zhang Yi laughed and said, "Uncle, why are you so troubled? You are the Emperor, yet you are worrying like a eunuch! These matters of the upper echelons are things we commoners should only discuss behind closed doors. Since we cannot change anything, why worry about the sky falling?"

"What do you mean 'worry about the sky falling'? The fate of us common people is tied to the fate of the nation. When the nation rises or falls, the people are affected. Not to mention anything else, your brother Huang's civil service exams all depend on your guidance, and now that I’ve heard you speak, I am even more troubled!"

Zhang Yi glanced at Zhu Biao. He didn't know how his "brother" was doing in his studies, but statistically speaking, the civil service exam was far more difficult than getting into top universities in the future. It was highly probable that Huang Mu had no chance of becoming a Jinshi, but he didn't point it out. After all, passing the Xiucai or Juren exam would be a source of great honor for a merchant family—especially the Juren, which provided a qualitative leap in political status during the Ming Dynasty.

"Zhang Yi, perhaps you could try to change the civil service examinations!"

Zhu Yuanzhang suddenly offered this suggestion, startling both Zhu Biao and Zhang Yi. Zhu Biao stared blankly at his father; what was he planning to do? Zhang Yi was even more terrified by Old Zhu’s audacity—could a merchant really be this blinded by interest? The civil service exam was a death trap; what right did a young Taoist have to change it?

"Have you forgotten your teacher, Xu Cunren? I heard that the Emperor ordered him to provide a plan for civil service reform! If you could influence Xu Cunren, perhaps you could influence the direction of our Great Ming’s examination reforms!"

Old Zhu’s eyes were bloodshot as he stared at Zhang Yi. Zhang Yi was impressed by Old Zhu’s imagination. Xu Cunren’s personality was free-spirited; he was certainly not a pedant. But no matter how free-spirited he was, he was still a Confucian scholar steeped in Cheng-Zhu Neo-Confucianism. Even if he liked the School of Mind, that school was essentially just patchwork on the foundation of Cheng-Zhu Neo-Confucianism. Zhang Yi figured that if he tried to make Xu Cunren accept the logic he had just laid out, Xu would turn on him the moment he finished speaking.

Just as he was about to refuse, Zhu Yuanzhang said, "You see so much injustice in this world, and you can glimpse the shifts of history. Why not try to change the status quo? I heard you say that the Hongwu Emperor bears the historical responsibility of bridging the North and the South. Since you, Zhang Yi, have attained the fairy destiny of the Heavenly Book, do you not also have your own responsibilities? If you could truly view the red dust without letting it move your heart, I doubt you would have sought an opportunity to descend from the mountain. If you could truly ignore the changes of time, you would not have dragged Mount Longhu into the fray, calculating every move to promote the inoculation method. If you didn't speak of the influence of Dao, technique, and the examinations on future generations, I wouldn't be trying to persuade you! But you have the ability and the opportunity—why not push history forward?"

Zhu Yuanzhang spoke with such sincerity that Zhang Yi found the words stuck in his throat; he could not refuse. When he came down from the mountain, he did intend to watch the world quietly and remain detached from cause and effect. Yet, by chance, he had already changed quite a few things. Zhang Yi was a mortal—or at least that was how he defined himself. Mortals would sacrifice themselves for friendship and retreat for the sake of interest. He constantly reminded himself that he did not possess extraordinary intelligence or deep schemes, and that quietly watching the tides of history was the wisest choice.

But after Huang He’s words, Zhang Yi felt a heat in his body; a sense of impulse was brewing in his heart. Historical responsibility—he had never thought that this phrase, used to describe Zhu Yuanzhang, would be turned back on himself.

He watched as his Uncle Huang stood up and bowed to him with great solemnity. Not only was Zhang Yi shocked, but Zhu Biao was also taken aback. Although his father wore the skin of a merchant, he had never truly lowered his status to become one. Yet now, Zhu Yuanzhang, in the identity of Huang He, bowed to Zhang Yi. This could only prove one thing: Zhu Yuanzhang truly approved of Zhang Yi’s views and hoped he would push for the reform of the examinations.

There had to be a legitimate reason. If Old Zhu were to push for reform directly, such a earth-shattering event would not have escaped the notice of Zhang Yi, who was studying at the National Academy. In that case, Zhang Yi would have sensed that something was amiss with the identity of the father and son. The only way for Zhang Yi to find it reasonable was for him to be the one to push for the reform. Xu Cunren was the breakthrough!

But when all was said and done, the fact that Old Zhu "begged" Zhang Yi showed just how much he valued this matter.

"Uncle, this is truly unnecessary!"

It was improper for an elder to do such a thing. Zhang Yi jumped up and bowed back to Zhu Yuanzhang. The old man and the boy stood there, and in the end, Zhang Yi couldn't take it anymore: "How about this... I will try?"

His tentative tone did not please Old Zhu. "You must try. I believe in you!"

"Fine, fine!"

Zhang Yi suspected that if he didn't agree, Old Zhu would probably not plan on leaving today.

"By the way, if mathematics is included in the examinations, can I have your brother Huang start learning it in advance?"

Before Zhang Yi’s blood had cooled, Old Zhu’s words sent a chill through him. Oh, wonderful! They say merchants are never early for anything without profit! He had actually thought Huang He cared for the world... So this was the trap! Zhang Yi lost his temper, gritting his teeth: "Don't worry, Uncle. I have plenty of math papers here. I’ll make sure brother Huang studies them happily—happily enough to cry!"

Zhu Biao: ...

The two of you are like gods fighting; why must I be the one who gets caught in the crossfire?

Old Zhu, having obtained the answer he wanted, was satisfied. "I will have your brother Huang come here to study math more often. It’s settled! If you pull this off, I won’t let your efforts go unrewarded!"

"Is it done?"

The father and son rose to leave, and Zhu Biao seized the chance to pull Zhang Yi aside for a whisper.

"I suppose so?"

"Then I’ll come find you another day!"

Leaving those words behind, the Crown Prince caught up to the Emperor’s shadow and departed from the Qingxin Temple!