Chapter 10: The Philosophy of Fang Xiaoru, Grand Master of Literature
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After a long silence, Chen Kan suddenly turned to Fang Xiaoru and said, “Teacher, you raised me for four years, and now I am the one urging you to become the sort of sycophantic minister who scrambles for scraps. Do you resent me?”
Fang Xiaoru replied with a question of his own. “Yuansheng, do you think I am one of those hidebound, rotten scholars who cling blindly to antiquity?”
Chen Kan shook his head. “You don’t look like one.”
“Hm?”
Fang Xiaoru gave an unhappy snort.
Feigning anger, he said, “What do you mean, I don’t look like one?”
“You insolent brat! How dare you mock your teacher!”
With that, he raised his hand as though to strike him. Chen Kan instinctively ducked his head.
In the end, however, Fang Xiaoru merely gave him a light pat.
Chen Kan’s expression instantly changed from grievance to delight. Smiling, he said, “Teacher, allow me to present you with a poem, as repayment for the kindness you showed in raising me these past four years.”
Fang Xiaoru stared at him in astonishment. “What sort of poem is so valuable that it could be worth several hundred taels of silver?”
Uh…
Chen Kan froze. The emotions he had just worked up were thrown into disarray.
Wasn’t it common knowledge that scholars of the Ming Dynasty prized elegance and despised vulgar attachment to money?
Why was Fang Xiaoru so practical?
And he was supposed to be a great Confucian scholar. Was this really appropriate?
“Blast it! History has misled me!”
“I was only joking. What are you waiting for? Recite it. I’m listening.”
“Oh.”
Chen Kan cleared his throat and slowly recited Stony Bamboo, a poem by the Qing poet Zheng Xie, which in later generations would be familiar even to children barely old enough to tie their hair:
“Clinging fast to the green mountain, never yielding,
Its roots lie deep within the shattered rock.
Though battered by a thousand trials and ten thousand blows, it remains steadfast—
Let the winds blow from east, south, west, and north.”
Chen Kan had originally intended to plagiarize the poem Ode to Lime by the Grand Preceptor, but he feared that Fang Xiaoru might smash his head against the prison wall after hearing it.
So, in the end, he decided to plagiarize Stony Bamboo instead.
Besides, Chen Kan hoped that Fang Xiaoru would be as the poem described: able to remain firm after endless trials and blows.
He hoped Fang Xiaoru would disregard every hardship and obstacle and truly accomplish something practical for the people of Great Ming.
The moment Chen Kan finished speaking, Fang Xiaoru applauded and exclaimed, “Excellent poem!”
Then, as though that were not enough, he added, “This poem alone is worth a thousand taels of gold.”
Chen Kan laughed. “Teacher, the stench of money about you is utterly vulgar.”
Fang Xiaoru rolled his eyes and retorted, “What do you know? Without money, how can a nation develop? Without money, how can an army wage war? Without money, how can the people’s livelihood be restored?”
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“If you become an official someday, do not imitate those rotten scholars who regard money as beneath contempt.
“Otherwise, even if I am dead, I will crawl out of my coffin and thrash you.
“Remember this: money is merely a tool in your hands. Use it well, and it will let you accomplish anything with half the effort. Use it badly—use it badly, and your teacher will beat you to death!”
Fang Xiaoru spoke of money at every turn and filled his mouth with coarse language. Listening to him, one might think he had dragged the dignity of the words “great Confucian scholar” through the mud.
Yet Chen Kan felt that this was precisely the sort of Fang Xiaoru who deserved to be known as the greatest literary master under Heaven.
After all, how could anyone who had attained profound learning truly fail to understand the ways of the world?
Money was merely a tool.
Chen Kan was thoroughly convinced. He nodded and said, “I shall remember your teachings. And, Teacher, you will surely live to be a hundred.”
Only now did Chen Kan truly acknowledge Fang Xiaoru. The man really was qualified to be his teacher.
He was also fully qualified to point at Zhu Di’s nose and curse him as the usurping rebel of Yan.
Fang Xiaoru smiled in satisfaction. Then he patted his backside, rose to his feet, walked to the crack in the cell door, and shouted, “Someone come here!”
Chen Kan went over to him and asked curiously, “Teacher, what are you doing?”
Fang Xiaoru replied, “Now that we have decided to become surrendering ministers, why remain in here? Naturally, we should go out and eat fine food and drink good wine.”
At these words, Chen Kan’s expression froze. Then he erupted with joy.
“Wahahaha! My life is saved! Wealth and glory, here I come!”
In an instant, delight shone from Chen Kan’s face, and he could not restrain his smile.
“What is it this time?”
The two jailers came over, cursing under their breath.
But when they saw that the person calling them was the great figure imprisoned in the cell, they quickly concealed their impatience and asked respectfully, “What are your orders?”
Fang Xiaoru called out in a ringing voice, “Go and tell the Prince of Yan that I, Fang Xiaoru, have surrendered.”
The two jailers wore expressions identical to Chen Kan’s. Only one thought filled their minds:
“We’re going to rise in the world.”
One of them then turned and sprinted away in a panic.
In truth, the Prince of Yan learned of Fang Xiaoru’s intention to surrender even faster than expected.
Less than ten minutes after Fang Xiaoru had made his position clear, the prince had already received a secret report stating that Chen Kan had successfully completed the task entrusted to him.
When Zhu Di heard the news, he was beside himself with joy.
Grabbing Dao Yan by the sleeve, he laughed aloud. “Hahahaha! Master, the great undertaking is accomplished!”
His exultant laughter nearly shook the roof from the building.
Dao Yan played his part admirably and bowed with folded hands. “This humble monk congratulates Your Highness. From this day forth, you shall win the hearts of all the realm’s scholars, and every gifted man under Heaven shall fall within Your Highness’s grasp.”
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“Hahahaha! Precisely, precisely.”
Zhu Di burst into another hearty laugh.
Then he loudly ordered, “Someone come here! Prepare the ceremonial escort. I shall personally go and welcome Master Fang out of prison.”
Afterward, he did not forget to ask the monk Dao Yan, “Master, will you come with me?”
Dao Yan shook his head. “This humble monk has already made two trips to the Imperial Prison today. I shall not go this time. Once again, I congratulate Your Highness on securing the services of a worthy scholar.”
Upon hearing that Dao Yan would not accompany him, Zhu Di formally bowed to him.
“The success of this matter owes much to you, Master. Rest assured, I shall never forget your contribution.”
“This humble monk has done nothing deserving of credit. It was Chen Kan who exceeded my expectations. But enough—Your Highness should go.”
“Then make yourself comfortable, Master.”
After exchanging that polite remark, Zhu Di could no longer contain his impatience.
In the Imperial Prison, Fang Xiaoru had spoken only a single sentence.
Yet that one sentence had brought every jailer in the prison crowding around his cell door, terrified that anything might happen to him.
The chief jailer was especially obsequious, bowing and scraping as he fussed over Fang Xiaoru’s comfort. One moment he ordered his men to replace the straw in the cell; the next he complained that the walls were too dirty and might offend the master’s eyes.
The jailers competed with one another to clean the cell.
In the blink of an eye, the filthy, disorderly prison cell had been transformed completely.
Chen Kan raised a thumb in admiration.
As expected of his teacher. With a single sentence, he had the entire Imperial Prison treating him like their own father and waiting upon him hand and foot.
By contrast, whenever Chen Kan wanted a meal, he had to spend half the day deceiving the jailers, resorting to both threats and intimidation.
Yes. He would take his teacher as his example.
Chen Kan silently made up his mind.
“Hahahaha! Master Fang! Master Fang! Your prince has arrived!”
A peal of laughter suddenly echoed through the long passageway.
The jailers’ hands paused. Then they respectfully withdrew from the cell.
Sure enough, after only a few breaths, Zhu Di appeared before them, grinning from ear to ear.
“Greetings, Your Highness!”
The jailers dropped to their knees all at once.
Only Chen Kan and Fang Xiaoru remained standing. They cupped their hands and said, “Greetings, Your Highness, Prince of Yan.”