Chapter 146: A Master of the "Way," Killing Two Birds with One Stone

Zhang Yi felt somewhat sympathetic toward Kong Ne; it seemed the label of a traitor was something he could never truly shake off.

In truth, viewed through the lens of hindsight from future generations:

Long before Zhu Yuanzhang, the distinction between the Hua and the Yi—the civilized and the nomadic—had faded from the minds of the people of Huaxia for a very long time.

Northern Han Chinese and Southern Han Chinese had been separated for centuries, and that division had long since eroded any sense of shared identity.

This lack of mutual recognition was not merely a case of northerners looking down on southerners; what profound resentment had southerners harbored against northerners as well?

Against the backdrop of such an era, bridging the gap between the north and the south required shared values and a common enemy.

The Kong family, playing both sides for their own preservation, made the ideal target for subjugation.

It was inevitable that the Kong family would be nailed to the pillar of shame.

Since he could do nothing to change this outcome, he could only offer Kong Ne some consolation.

"When you eventually become the Duke Yansheng, you can work on making amends..."

Kong Ne shook his head and said, "It is too late. Whatever I do is useless. Once I become the Duke Yansheng, I may lose even the little freedom I have now! After this ordeal, His Majesty only wishes for us to remain quietly and docilely within the Temple of Confucius. I can already see the end of my life laid out before me! Actually, I am not a fool. I have thought back on the reasoning you shared with me before. You mentioned that the hearts of the people belong to the Zhang family, and I now understand that my Kong family also bears the weight of the people's hearts. If Grandfather could truly and sincerely surrender to the Ming, and we aligned ourselves with the aspirations of the people tied to the Kong family, we might have salvaged our image in the eyes of that Emperor... Ah!"

"Then do you identify with the Great Ming?" Zhang Yi suddenly asked.

Kong Ne found himself lost in confusion.

"A few years ago, I actually accompanied Grandfather to the capital—no, that was Dadu of the previous dynasty! Those people treated Grandfather very well, and they showed me a great deal of respect... However, they did not uphold the path left behind by the Most Holy and Exalted Master! How should I describe that feeling? Actually, I cannot quite put it into words..."

Kong Ne shook his head again and continued, "Before I came to Yingtian, my father told me the truth about Grandfather. He said Grandfather was a hero—a hero who endured humiliation and bore heavy burdens to protect the sacrificial fires of our Kong family! Therefore, after I arrived here, I walked on thin ice, only to find myself isolated... In truth, I have spent my days here very unhappily, yet strangely at peace... For I feel that the heritage left behind by the Most Holy and Exalted Master still exerts its influence upon this land. Even though the one dwelling within the palace does not seem to care much for the teachings of the Confucians, he still respects the principles laid down by our ancestors. That kind of respect is entirely different from that of the Mongols. I do not know how to describe it... But... I..."

"Cultural identity!"

Unable to pinpoint the exact term himself, Kong Ne heard Zhang Yi blurt it out.

Those four words—cultural identity—suddenly brought absolute clarity to Kong Ne's mind. The awkward dissonance he had felt when meeting the Mongol Emperor finally crystallized because of this phrase.

The division between the Hua and the Yi was not a matter of bloodline, but of cultural identification.

The Mongols had treated Kong Kejian very well, and bestowed immense favor upon the Kong family, yet in the eyes of the Mongol emperors, the words of the sages held no weight. Because the Mongol empire had been won from the backs of horses, the foundational logic governing their rule of the world never once accommodated a place for Confucianism.

Admittedly, for the sake of lasting peace and order throughout the realm, they would treat the scholar-official class with kindness. Adults like Kong Kejian might lose themselves in the benevolent gestures of the rulers for the sake of personal gain. Yet as a child, he had been able to perceive the profound sense of detachment and loneliness underlying it all.

"So... although life in Yingtian has been very difficult, I suppose I still like it here! This place recognizes me. It recognizes the principles left behind by my ancestors..."

As Kong Ne mustered the courage to speak his true inner thoughts, Kong Kejian, resting quietly inside the room, instantly dissolved in tears. He no longer wished to listen. He silently lay back down and continued dreaming his dreams...

For once, Zhang Yi refrained from teasing Kong Ne.

This was true cultural identity, and it was also one of the most profound significances behind the birth of the Ming Dynasty.

"Very well, having those words from you is enough! In truth, you need not care too much. Look at me—you know very well what kind of background my ancestors have; my family even had our Celestial Master title stripped away, yet do I not live quite happily? Let me teach you a philosophy, brother: since you cannot stop others from defining your family, you must strive to change how the world defines the Kong family..."

"Get lost! You are trying to take advantage of me again..."

Conversing with this young Daoist made it nearly impossible for Kong Ne to maintain a calm and even temper.

Nimbly dodging Kong Ne's fatal kick, Zhang Yi simply fled to the alchemy room to tinker with his elixirs. Kong Ne needed peace and quiet right now, and Zhang Yi had no desire to crowd him.

Once Zhang Yi departed, Kong Ne thought of his grandfather.

Stepping into the room to check on him, he found his grandfather still fast asleep, though for reasons unknown, he sensed a profound sorrow weighing upon the old man's heart...

...

Within the imperial palace, Zhu Yuanzhang continued his routine of reading the confidential memorials submitted by the covert inspection bureau.

What dishes Master Song had eaten yesterday, which concubine the Minister of Rites had spent the previous night with...

Amidst such trivial domestic details, the Emperor stumbled upon a piece of news concerning the Kong estate.

A merchant had returned several jade artifacts sold off by Kong Ne to the Kong residence, an incident that immediately drew the Emperor's attention.

The inspectors had already investigated the merchant, and found nothing amiss. With a new dynasty newly established, merchants naturally sought out patrons and figures to exploit; such occurrences were commonplace, so the Emperor set the matter aside.

What truly troubled him was why the Kong household, which lacked for neither food nor clothing, was resorting to selling off its heirlooms.

"Could it be that brat Zhang Yi has corrupted him, making money flow through his fingers like water?"

The Emperor jotted a single word on the confidential memorial: *Investigate!* Then he casually tossed it aside.

Immediately afterward, he commanded Zhu Biao to read aloud the state memorials.

This was the method Old Zhu used to train Zhu Biao. Though Biao was only in his teens, Old Zhu did not expect him to handle affairs of state just yet. However, making him understand how the machinery of the country operated and how an emperor acted was of paramount importance.

"The dispatches from Uncle Xu's camp mention that the efficacy of allicin is remarkable, and it has indeed suppressed the worsening of his carbuncle... Uncle Chang has captured yet another city... The shipyard has been established, but the Ministry of Revenue has memorialized that funds are insufficient, requesting that Your Majesty defer construction until the situation in the northern wars stabilizes... And... this is a letter sent to you by Daoist Zhang..."

Zhang Zhengchang had been wandering the northern territories for some time now. Following Zhu Yuanzhang's instructions, he traveled across the northern landscape, reporting back on local customs, geography, and conditions along the way. Sometimes he stayed within military encampments, sometimes he ventured out.

Like a Daoist cultivating amidst the crimson dust of the mortal world, he lived a life that was austere yet carefree.

Of course, his primary mission was to collect relics from ancient battlefields across the north and bring them back to Nanjing to honor fallen heroes. Yet the endeavor itself served as a grand political theater. As long as Zhang Zhengchang continued his journey through the north, he wielded the prestige of the Zhang family's moral standing among the people for propaganda.

Old Zhu was well-pleased with Zhang Zhengchang's obedience.

Just as he was about to have Zhu Biao draft a reply on his behalf, a eunuch announced the arrival of Liu Bowen and Xu Cunren.

Over this period, Zhang Yi's *Twelve Volumes of Mathematics* had, by imperial decree, been printed and distributed to every prefecture and province. The mathematical textbooks compiled by Zhang Yi, alongside the Four Books and Five Classics, became mandatory studies for scholars across the realm. For a time, paper prices in Luoyang soared.

Meanwhile, at Jiming Mountain in Yingtian Prefecture, construction on the Emperor's newly designated Imperial Academy was proceeding with furious momentum.

Aside from managing the curriculum of the Imperial School and proofreading textbooks, Xu Cunren also had to personally supervise the construction site of the new academy. Though he had grown noticeably thinner from exhaustion, his spirit remained radiant and unyielding.

"Your Majesty, here is the list of recommended candidates for the position of Doctor of Mathematics. I have already conferred with several fellow natives of Zhejiang, and a few among them have expressed interest in coming..."

Having reconciled with Liu Bowen, Xu Cunren finally managed to ease his previously dismal network of personal connections.

Old Zhu nodded, laid the list aside, and fixed his gaze upon Liu Bowen. "And what brings you here, Liu Ji?"

Without a word, Liu Bowen respectfully presented a memorial.

Picking it up and casting his eyes over it, Zhu Yuanzhang paused in surprise. "Efficiency?"

Lifting his gaze to look at Liu Bowen, Old Zhu noted that while the memorial touched upon punctuation marks and similar subjects, its core theme was not those tools themselves, but Zhang Yi's "theory of instrumentality."

That Liu Bowen had gone to visit Zhang Yi was something Old Zhu had known for a long time. He had been curious to see what Liu Bowen would produce upon his return.

Lowering his head, Old Zhu resumed reading Liu Bowen's memorial.

Zhang Yi's rhetoric, as expanded upon by Liu Bowen, caused him to nod repeatedly.

He had heard Zhang Yi discourse on minor arts versus the Great Way before, but even coming from the same person, conversing across different times and with different individuals always sparked fresh insights.

The *art* serves as the tool!

Yet tools possess the power to change the world—this proposition was likely Zhang Yi's way of wrapping his radical theories in a coat of moderate respectability, making them far easier for others to digest.

The Great Way is like a person; the tool is like the blade in a person's hand. Without a person, a blade is merely a dead object; yet without a blade, a person cannot defend against external invasions.

The Way and the art complement each other, much like knowledge and action, which can be synthesized into one!

Seeing this, Old Zhu nodded approvingly time and again.

Though some stubborn pedants were still bitterly complaining about mathematics entering the imperial examinations, Liu Bowen's essay provided it with a solid theoretical foundation.

Yet this was not the main point.

Just as literature carries the Great Way, since the art can bear and fulfill the Great Way, scholars ought not to remain rigidly bound to things outside of orthodox principles.

Thus, quite naturally, Liu Bowen recommended that punctuation marks and a peculiar set of numerals be adopted as tools promoted by the Emperor.

The significance of punctuation and Arabic numerals ultimately lay in enhancing the "efficiency" of education and moral transformation.

"Splendid, Liu Bowen! With this memorial of yours, I shall credit you with a major contribution!"

Unlike emperors born of noble families who received a pristine education from childhood, Old Zhu, an emperor who had clawed his way up from the very bottom, had pragmatism carved into his very bones.

While other emperors might not have agreed to such a heaven-shaking move as introducing mathematics into the imperial examinations, he had pushed it through. And Liu Bowen's advocacy of the theory of tools and efficiency deeply resonated with the Emperor's heart.

"Later, I shall have someone copy this and send it to the Secretariat, ordering them to have the hundred officials recite it! The punctuation marks and Arabic numerals you mentioned—I will promote them as well..."

Upon hearing this, Liu Bowen lowered his head and said, "This credit is not something this subject dares to claim. These theories were, in truth, heard by this subject from that boy of the Zhang family... Every single argument belongs to that child; all this subject has done is record and polish them..."

Old Zhu nodded. Zhang Yi's conduct consistently embodied his favorite maxim: *Through minor arts, one may catch a glimpse of the Great Way.* The things he proposed might not instantaneously transform the world like inoculation against smallpox, but they quietly and imperceptibly influenced the course of history through minute, everyday changes.

As the saying goes, the Great Way is like water, nourishing all things without making a sound. Catching a glimpse of the Great Way through minor arts—was that not, in itself, a profound principle and a supreme Way?

"This boy actually harbors the Way within his heart..."

Recalling his past interactions with Zhang Yi one by one, Zhu Yuanzhang felt a jolt of astonishment.

In the past, Zhang Yi had worn many faces in his eyes: a blessed youth touched by celestial fortune capable of glimpsing the future, a Daoist practitioner wielding unusual arts... Yet never once had Old Zhu regarded Zhang Yi as a master who had attained the Dao.

To possess one's own ideals and be able to walk one's own path—that was what it truly meant to have attained the Dao!

"In this regard alone, even Zhang Zhengchang cannot compare to this rebellious son of his..."

"Your Majesty?"

Mid-sentence, Old Zhu had drifted off into deep thought. Hearing Liu Bowen's gentle prompt, he snapped back to reality.

"Where was I? Ah, efficiency, yes. That child spoke well: anything capable of enhancing efficiency is beneficial to moral transformation and governance! I shall issue an imperial edict to promote these two things. By the way, there is perhaps another item that could be popularized as well..."

Reaching across his desk, Zhu Yuanzhang retrieved a bundle of pencils and handed them to Liu Bowen and Xu Cunren.

"Someone from the common folk presented me with these strange, rigid writing pens. I have played with them for a few days and found them rather useful! The two of you take them back and try them out. If they can improve efficiency, this item shall be promoted as well!"

Xu Cunren and Liu Bowen accepted the pencils, turning them over in their hands.

"Initially, I thought these might simply be distributed to scouts for convenience in military use. But since Liu Ji reminded me today that they enhance efficiency—thereby reducing the cost of education—then the two of you test them for me. If they truly elevate efficiency, I will promote these as well!"

"Understood!"

Though Liu Bowen and Xu Cunren acknowledged the order, they lingered, reluctant to leave.

Guessing what they wished to say, Old Zhu asked, "Liu Bowen, you have met that second son of the Zhang family. What is your evaluation of the boy?"

After a brief moment of reflection, Liu Bowen replied, "With the Way in his heart, that child can bring blessings to all living beings; with a demon in his heart, he could overturn the earth and shatter the heavens!"

"Hmph..."

"Then let us suppress his demonic nature. Xu Cunren..."

Refusing to dwell further on the subject, Old Zhu turned his attention to Xu Cunren. "At the Imperial Academy, have those scoundrels been behaving themselves and attending their studies?"

Xu Cunren replied with a wry smile, "Ever since Your Majesty sent men to reprimand them, they have all been honestly attending class..."

The bitter smile on the old man's face was well-founded; the Emperor's "reprimand" had essentially consisted of dispatching beatings with heavy wooden staves to the households of various officials. With the Emperor personally "encouraging learning," those truant scions of meritorious families naturally dared not disobey.

Forget those who had previously skipped class; even certain marquises and dukes who had insisted on hiring private tutors at home hurriedly delivered their sons to the Imperial Academy the moment they saw the Emperor's temper flare.

Never since its establishment had the Imperial Academy housed so many students.

Yet this also created administrative nightmares, for the fathers of these youths were mostly men who had fought tooth and nail on bloody battlefields.

Too many of Old Zhu's meritorious commanders hailed from humble origins, making proper domestic upbringing a severe challenge.

"I grant you the authority: if they dare cause trouble, beat them mercilessly! Whatever happens, I will bear the consequences for you!"

For military commanders like Chang Yuwen, Feng Sheng, and Tang He, Old Zhu had previously restrained himself out of respect for their bloodshed on the front lines, finding it difficult to discipline their sons for them.

Ever since discovering what a utter disaster Chang Mao was, however, the issue had escalated to a level that threatened the very foundations of the state.

Consequently, whipping these scions of meritorious families into shape had landed squarely on Old Zhu's agenda.

While the offspring of civil officials were relatively manageable, the descendants of military generals suffered terribly.

Take Chang Mao, for example. Ever since coming under the Emperor's special scrutiny, not only was he forced to study the Four Books and Five Classics at the Imperial Academy to refine his character, but while others went home to play after classes ended, these military scions were hauled off by the Emperor's men for grueling physical training...

The children of Yingtian's nobility had long since found life utterly agonizing!

"Yes, Your Majesty!"

"By the way, how has the academic progress of the Zhang boy and the Kong boy been lately?"

It was a trick question. Xu Cunren offered an awkward smile and said, "They have not attended classes for over ten days. As for Kong Ne, because he had to seek treatment for his grandfather, he personally came to my residence to ask for leave, guaranteeing that his coursework would not fall behind, so I granted him permission... As for Zhang Yi..."

Old Xu simply could not find an excuse for Zhang Yi. He could hardly admit that he had lost a wager to the boy and thus lacked the authority to discipline him properly!

"Preposterous!"

Though Old Zhu knew the truth inside and out, on the surface he erupted in fury.

Seeing the Emperor's wrath, Liu Bowen sighed and stepped forward. "Your Majesty, this subject has something to report!"

"Speak!"

"This subject happens to know why that boy from the Zhang family has been skipping class; it is related to the Duke Yansheng's estate..."

Liu Bowen had originally preferred not to proactively disclose the matter to the Emperor, as he wished to avoid publicizing the former Duke Yansheng's medical treatments at a Daoist temple. Yet seeing the Emperor direct his anger toward Zhang Yi, he felt compelled to offer an explanation.

He laid out everything he had witnessed and heard at the Duke Yansheng's residence.

Xu Cunren was equally startled.

So there were developments behind the scenes of which he had been entirely unaware?

Zhang Yi was capable of treating illnesses—no, wait, this was not a simple medical treatment...

Observing Liu Bowen's helpless expression, Xu Cunren finally understood why his colleague had held his tongue until now.

Kong Kejian had most likely not gone for medical treatment at all; he had gone to ward off evil spirits!

For the Duke Yansheng to seek help on Mount Longhu's turf—if word got out, it would humiliate the entire scholarly community.

Especially since a faction within the court had been venting their resentment against the Zhang family because of the Kong family affair, only to discover in the end that the two parties were thick as thieves, making them look like utter fools.

And Liu Bowen himself had been the ringleader of that very faction.

"What utter chaos!"

Upon hearing this, Zhu Yuanzhang flew into a rage. "Could it be that the residence I bestowed upon Kong Kejian is haunted? How disgraceful this sounds if word leaks out..."

Xu Cunren hurriedly placated him, saying, "Your Majesty, it is not necessarily haunted. Old Master Kong, as Your Majesty knows, suffers from a deep-seated melancholia... Kong Ne is a filial boy, and since he is close friends with Zhang Yi, taking his grandfather to a Daoist temple for a change of scenery is quite normal!"

"Even so, attention must be paid to appearances! No, Xu Cunren, go back and admonish those two students of yours: if there is an illness to be treated, let them do it at the Kong estate. Furthermore, if they dare skip class again, I will have them dragged out and beaten with staves..."

Old Zhu's reaction far exceeded their expectations, and Xu Cunren hastily assented.

Unsatisfied, the Emperor turned and glared at Liu Bowen. "As for you—had I not asked, were you planning to take this to your grave without telling me?"

With a wry smile, Liu Bowen hurriedly begged forgiveness.

"If that boy had not made certain contributions, I would give him a few strokes of the paddle myself! Neither of you should be wandering off to Daoist temples for no reason; what kind of behavior is that? Get out of my sight, all of you!"

With the Emperor in a fury, Liu Bowen and Xu Cunren naturally dared not linger.

The moment they departed, Zhu Biao, who had remained silent throughout, broke into a smile.

Emperor Hongwu cast a cold glance at his son, but Zhu Biao showed no fear.

"Father is truly killing two birds with one stone!"