Note Before the Chapter: I've been quite busy these past few days, so updates have been somewhat slow. Additionally, I had actually completed over two thousand words earlier, but I was contemplating some plot elements, so I hadn't published it yet. Fortunately, I've finally found some inspiration.
There are many old assumptions about how people in ancient times learned. For instance, that women could not study, or that mathematics and physics were not taught. However, only after I truly sat in the Imperial Academy could I perhaps have some say in this matter.
Indeed, for common people, women certainly could not participate in learning, because the only job for ordinary people, regardless of gender, was to produce and work. But the nobility was an exception. Learning was the privilege of the aristocracy, including female aristocrats. Noble women, especially in pre-Chin China, played a very interesting role: in many cases, they were actually the true stewards of those feudal states.
Take my Uncle Duke of Zheng as an example. My uncle's fief was east of the capital, but he usually did not stay there because he simultaneously served as the Chancellor in the central government of Chou. Therefore, although he was the administrative head of Zheng, he did not actually manage the affairs there. You might think that his son would then act on the Duke's behalf. Far from it! His son Gongsheng was dozing at the desk next to mine. Yes, many sons of dukes were sent to the capital for education. Of course, you could understand this as receiving education, but there was actually another layer of meaning: the fiefs sent their heirs or princes to the central government as hostages. So the person truly managing administrative affairs in Zheng was my aunt, my mother's elder sister, the Duchess of Zheng.
Yes, in the state of Chou, noble women must also receive good education, because they often had to govern entire lands on behalf of their dukes. Even before the Chou Dynasty, during the Shang Dynasty, there were instances where kings and queens ruled the country equally, with queens personally leading armies to campaign against barbarians. Of course, this still happened occasionally, but aristocratic law, the ritual of Chou, required that wives must submit to their husbands in all matters. To modern people, this would certainly seem like regression, but to the founding Kings of Chou, the Shang King's appointment of female generals who failed in battle and heeding the slander of his queen to campaign against barbarians was the fundamental reason for the Shang Dynasty's downfall.
However, this did not prevent noble women from receiving education alongside us. And the education content was not limited to the ritual of Chou, but also included astronomy, calendar systems, and arithmetic. Yes, of course there was mathematics, simple elementary mathematics. Because the empire's census and food allocation all depended on mathematics.
Our instructor was a middle-aged nobleman. Father told me he was a Lesser Grand Master to the King of Chou, also enfeoffed as the Earl of Du. He was responsible for teaching the ritual of Chou. Another teacher responsible for calendar systems, arithmetic, and astronomy was surnamed Zuo; we called him Master Zuo or Mr. Zuo. I preferred Master Zuo because he was relatively much gentler. But Earl Du was quite different. He seemed somewhat stubborn, and although the material he taught was quite dry, he still strictly required everyone to memorize and study it.
For me, however, learning was completely meaningless; my interest was in the girls sitting in the front row. Yes, those sisters from the land of Qi were also there. As the saying goes, "A fair maiden is worthy of a gentleman's pursuit." Although I didn't yet know their names, I obviously kept stealing glances at them during class. Of course, I wasn't the only one. The ducal sons sitting behind me openly discussed those girls, sometimes whispering during class. Faced with this situation, Master Zuo would just smile, but Earl Du would slam his ruler down hard, forcing us to stop our discussions.
However, not everything about first entering school was pleasant. Especially for some notable figures, like Prince Ji Kuo and Ji Xi from the State of Lu. Kuo and Xi had different personalities. The first time I properly looked at Kuo, I felt his physique was not very proportionate, his face somewhat chubby, he seemed introverted, honest, but with shifty eyes, giving the impression that he wasn't very intelligent. He liked to play chess, but because he had no friends, he preferred to play by himself. My cousin Gongsheng told me that according to the dukes, he wasn't quite normal, extremely prone to mood swings, temperamental—you should stay away from him. But I became familiar with him during a break-time game. On that occasion, everyone was playing touhu, a game where arrows are thrown into a bottle to see who could get the most in. Kuo threw his arrow near the foot of Ji Yuchen, King Xuan of Chou's son. Yuchen half-jokingly stepped on the arrow and said, "You throwing your arrow beneath my foot shows disrespect. Disrespecting me is disrespecting King Xuan!"
Yuchen was King Xuan's second son and the most extravagant among all of us noble children, as the king's eldest son was already an adult. He said, "Pick up the arrow. I'll return it to you if you crawl between my legs."
This was just childish banter that no one took seriously. But Kuo said nothing, walked up to him, and actually knelt down and crawled through. His younger brother Xi just stood there watching, saying nothing. All the children gathered around, witnessing this shocking scene. Including our teacher, Earl Du. That afternoon, whether related to this incident or not, he lectured on the relationship between lord and subject in the ritual of Chou, and assigned us a question: "The lord directs his subjects with ritual, and subjects serve their lord with loyalty." Earl Du asked, if a king commands his subjects and dukes without ritual, should the subjects continue to be loyal to the king?
This was a very complex question. First, he asked King Xuan's second son Yuchen. Yuchen said: "The lord is heaven, the subject is earth; the lord is father, the subject is son. Regardless of how the king behaves, subjects should revere the king." Yuchen's answer was the most correct answer, because "the lord is heaven, the subject is earth; the lord is father, the subject is son" is stipulated in the ritual of Chou. In fact, hundreds of years later, Confucius would give the same answer to this question. Earl Du said: "Incorrect. When the first King of Chou was a duke, he was subordinate to the Shang King, so why did he rebel? The first King of Chou was originally a subject of the Shang King, yet he campaigned against the King of Shang dynasty and took his place. By your logic, wouldn't that be disloyal?" Yuchen was stunned that the most standard answer was not the correct answer in Earl Du's mind.
It was the Qi princesses' turn. The older girl answered, "If you know the king will be discourteous to his subjects, the subjects should hide away." Earl Du nodded without speaking. The younger girl who made my heart flutter answered, "My father told me that even though fathers and kings usually don't make mistakes, if they truly are unreasonable and make errors, they will often correct themselves promptly. Therefore, we should still be loyal to our fathers and to the King of Chou." Earl Du gave a soft "hmm," clearly somewhat dissatisfied with this answer, and asked, "But what if the father and king don't correct themselves?" The younger girl was stumped, blushing and at a loss, her brows furrowed. Somehow, seeing the girl I liked flustered, her face flushed like wine, made her even more enchanting.
She didn't answer, and it was Lu Duke's eldest son Kuo's turn. Kuo said, "I think the ritual of Chou is wrong. Kings are human, not heaven; subjects are also human, not earth. Everyone is human—the barbaric Yi tribes in the east are human, the barbaric Rong tribes in the west are also human. They, like the kings, subjects, commoners, and slaves of Chou, are all the same... every... every... everyone has only one father." Toward the end, Kuo became somewhat agitated and began to stutter. But his statement clearly surprised all the children. Gongsheng, sitting next to me, widened his eyes, unable to imagine that these words would come from someone who shared the royal surname, was the son of a duke, would be the future leader responsible for defending against barbarians in the east, and had just that morning seemed weak to him. Teacher Earl Du was clearly also surprised, but he calmly asked, "But the ritual of Chou is the foundation of our state. The relationship between king and ducal subjects is the basis of our country. The ritual of Chou must be correct. You should think again." Kuo responded somewhat heatedly, "But Teacher, the dynasty of Shang did not have the ritual of Chou, yet still greatly expanded its territories east and west, lasting for over four hundred years." Earl Du said, "Yet they were still defeated and destroyed by us, the people of Chou who honor the ritual! Sit down!"
The other students also spoke for a long time, and finally it was my turn. I've never been very interested in topics related to politics and systems, wanting to avoid them, so I answered, "Teacher, I don't know." Earl Du still replied very calmly, "No, after learning so much knowledge about the ritual of Chou, you must have your own viewpoint. You must express your opinion, more or less. Even a brief comment will do."
I hadn't expected Earl Du to be such a person. Faced with my answer, he wasn't angry, but quite calmly, like a friend, solicited my opinion. I didn't know how to refuse at that moment, wracking my brain, when suddenly I remembered a story my father had written to the Duke of Zheng. "Master Du, your question reminds me of a story. May I tell it?" He nodded, indicating I should continue. I said: "Once there was a duke who violated the ritual of Chou by passing his title to his favorite son, rather than his eldest. Later, the eldest son led the king's army against his younger brother, eventually killing him and becoming the new duke." Earl Du nodded and said, "Yes, continue." I continued: "The ritual of Chou is the foundation of social order and institutions. It's like natural law, governing all aspects of life and social activities for the people of Chou. But the ritual, or these rules, have no emotions, while humans have humanity. The conflict between ritual and humanity is the greatest problem." Earl Du nodded, seemingly affirming me, encouraging me to continue. I went on: "The biggest problem with the ritual of Chou is that it's unchanging, while human nature or humanity changes. The duke wasn't ignorant of the ritual, but he didn't know his decision would ultimately change with his preference for his two sons; the king wasn't ignorant of the ritual, but to uphold it, he let the eldest son lead Chou's army to kill the younger brother; the elder brother wasn't ignorant of the ritual, but he had to use his younger brother's death to obtain so-called justice; the younger brother also wasn't ignorant of the ritual, but because of the duke's authority, power and land, he banished his elder brother and ultimately suffered death. Whose fault is this? It's humans, human desire, or human nature." I found that once I started talking, I couldn't stop: "Fortunately, this incident only happened to a duke. If the eldest son were the son of the King of Chou, not a duke's son, then who would uphold justice and ritual for him?" Earl Du suddenly interrupted me sternly, saying, "Enough, let's stop here." Only then did I realize that I might have gone too far, seemingly close to criticizing the royal family. Fortunately, Earl Du interrupted me! I broke into a cold sweat, feeling some gratitude toward this teacher.
After class, I was approached for the first time; it was Kuo. He said, "Ah, you spoke so well just now. What's your name?" I replied, "Ah, I'm Kai. And you, what's your name?" He said, "Oh, I didn't know you didn't know my name. My name is similar to yours. I'm Kuo! You spoke so well just now!" I said, "So did you. You even compared the dynasties of Shang and Chou. My ancestors' surname was Ying, formerly generals of Shang, now generals of Chou. My full name is Ying Kai. I've heard your name before, you're Ji Kuo, right?" He nodded and smiled sheepishly, completely different from his agitated state earlier. "Are you free after school? I hear the autumn apricot blossom wine is on sale. Let me treat you to a taste!" He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me outside. His physique was far more robust than mine, so there was no way to refuse; I could only agree.
In the distant state of Chou, apricot blossom wine was a delicious wine. Unlike today's Maotai in China, it was a mellow wine made from rice. Rice was only grown in ChengChou and southeastern China, such as the lands (or states) of Qi and Lu. In Chou Plateau, the mainstream wine was sorghum wine, which tasted similar to Maotai—spicy, with a bitter entry, stinging the throat—I didn't like it, nor did the people of Chou. In contrast, rice wine was similar to a modern beverage—sweet and mellow, extremely refreshing to drink. Especially rice wine brewed with apricot blossoms, which emitted a faint apricot blossom fragrance. Moreover, apricot blossom wine didn't spoil; the longer it was sealed in jars, the more mellow the flavor became. Therefore, merchants from Qi and Lu could transport apricot blossom wine along the Yellow River to the capital. One could say that apricot blossom wine itself represented a meaning: autumn, a relaxed and gentle fragrance, though this wine, despite its sweetness, could still easily intoxicate after a few cups. Yet in that mellow fragrance, you could feel the autumn color of the East Asian continent. The cool autumn breeze was the season color when children started school in September; the full autumn atmosphere was the season color when rice ripened and apricot blossoms bloomed. Chinese poets have praised Apricot Blossom Village and apricot blossom wine countless times, perhaps tracing back to that wine gathering on Chou Plateau three thousand years ago.
Kuo and I sat on the second floor of a tavern in the busiest market in Chou Plateau. The setting sun pressed upon Chou Plateau, and the entire city and the vast plain shimmered with golden light.