Chapter 60: Criticism

Before the New Year, when he was preparing to send Zhao Mao to a private school, Zhao Mengcheng had looked into the situation of the schools in Shanghe Town.

Shanghe Town was simply too small, and academic culture did not flourish there. Over the years, no world-shaking figures had emerged. The best school in town was naturally the County School, but one could not enter without connections or status.

After discussing it with his children, Zhao Mengcheng found the private school where the original owner of his body had once studied. The teacher was an Old Scholar in his early fifties. Because of his age and poor health, he had long since given up on the imperial examinations.

In the original owner’s memory, this teacher was somewhat pedantic, but he was dedicated to his teaching and did not treat students differently based on their family background.

When he took Zhao Mao to pay his respects to the teacher, the Old Scholar still remembered him. He spoke a few kind words, lamenting the family’s hardships, and reminded Zhao Mengcheng that farming and earning money were only minor paths and that he must not neglect his studies.

Zhao Mengcheng had his own plans, so these words went in one ear and out the other.

He just hadn’t expected that after six months, Zhao Mao would have an explosive argument with the Old Scholar.

The matter started with the River Dredging.

Zhao Mengcheng had used the White Dragon Manifestation as a gimmick and coordinated with Magistrate Huang. They had managed to finish the River Dredging for the section of the Shang River that flowed through Shanghe Town right around the time of the spring plowing.

In the eyes of the common people, this was the White Dragon Manifestation, a divine light shining upon the land. While the River Dredging was a bit tiring, the river mud they hauled up could fertilize the fields, and smearing it on their courtyard walls was said to ensure safety.

For the commoners, nothing was better than family safety and the protection of the gods.

But in the eyes of the scholars, this matter seemed suspicious.

In private, the scholars felt that the White Dragon Manifestation was fake. They believed Lord Huang must have feared public opposition to repairing the river, so he had used such a method.

Some praised it, while others slandered it. Overall, since no money was demanded from the people, most scholars felt the matter was acceptable, or at least not a bad thing.

In his heart, however, the Old Scholar was certain that Magistrate Huang wanted to dredge the river but was unwilling to spend the silver, which was why he had resorted to such a tactic.

He was quite aloof and looked down on such sordid schemes.

On this day in class, the Old Scholar did not hold back his criticism, shouting, “As the local official, one should be conscientious and strive for good governance, rather than resorting to deception and playing at ghosts and gods. Such actions are putting the cart before the horse¹ and turning black into white.”

Hearing this, Zhao Mao was already feeling very indignant.

The Old Scholar did not stop, continuing, “As scholars, when orders come from above, what we must do is distinguish right from wrong, rather than fawning over those in power or helping a tyrant commit evil².”

“You must remember that reading and writing are only for understanding principles. Once you have read the books of the sages, you must perform the deeds of the sages. You must never resort to opportunism, otherwise, your reading will have been in vain.”

Zhao Mao finally couldn’t help himself. He stood up and questioned, “Teacher, the River Dredging is a policy that benefits the country and the people. How can you say it is helping a tyrant commit evil?”

The Old Scholar glanced at him. “The Master did not speak of the supernatural or chaotic spirits³. To use gods to keep the people in ignorance is to create a debt of sin.”

Zhao Mao furrowed his brows and asked loudly, “By your words, Teacher, it is not good for the people to receive actual benefits? Must everything follow the literal words of the sages, even if the people starve to death in the fields, for it to be considered good?”

The Old Scholar’s face darkened, and he pointed at him, scolding, “When did I ever say such a thing? Your father has at least read the books of the sages, yet now he is in cahoots with the County Magistrate, all to save on the wages of laborers. This is called competing with the people for profit⁴.”

Zhao Mao was a little afraid, but he still puffed out his chest. “Since you think so, Teacher, why don’t you go to the entrance of the public court and beat the drum⁵ to cry out against this injustice and set the record straight?”

“Or is it, Teacher, that you only dare to criticize behind others’ backs, but dare not speak plainly to their faces?”

“You… you brat! You have no respect for your elders or teachers! Get out!” The Old Scholar was fuming with rage. He kicked Zhao Mao out of the schoolroom and made him stand outside until school was dismissed.

When school was nearly over, the Old Scholar asked coldly, “Do you know your mistake?”

“I do not know what mistake I have made,” Zhao Mao replied with a stiff face.

The Old Scholar sneered. “Fine, fine! You are stubborn and beyond instruction. Since that is the case, go home. I cannot teach you.”

Zhao Mao felt incredibly wronged, but he refused to bow his head and admit fault. He left with a grim expression.

The two brothers met at the town gate. Zhao Chun was chattering away about the interesting things he had seen at the Escort Agency, and it took a while before he noticed his younger brother’s expression was off.

“What’s wrong? Did someone at school bully you?” Zhao Chun patted his chest. “Tell your big brother. I’ll find a chance to put a sack over his head and teach him a lesson. Let’s see if he dares to bully you again.”

Zhao Mao looked up at him. “It’s nothing. I’m just tired.”

It wasn’t until they returned home and Zhao Mengcheng asked several times that Zhao Mao finally spoke of the matter.

There was grievance in his eyes, but even more anger. “Father clearly did a great thing for everyone, for the surrounding villages, and for the entire Shanghe Town. Not only did the teacher not praise you, but he also cursed you behind your back.”

Zhao Mengcheng burst out laughing. “You’re unhappy just because of this?”

Zhao Mao simply stopped practicing his calligraphy. He put down his brush and walked over to sit beside Zhao Mengcheng. “Dad, I don’t like him saying that, because I know you have no selfish motives. You did it for everyone’s good.”

“Then you are mistaken.”

Zhao Mengcheng raised an eyebrow and tugged at the boy’s hair bun. “The fundamental reason I went to the trouble of doing this was because I feared the Shang River would flood, causing disasters for both banks and leading to famine among the people.”

“Isn’t that for everyone’s good? You didn’t get any benefit from it,” Zhao Mao said indignantly.

Zhao Mengcheng continued, “I fear a famine not because I hold the safety of others in my heart, but because I fear that if such a day comes, the world will fall into chaos, affecting my own peaceful life.”

“Our family has money, food, and children. We can’t just pack up and run far away. If a famine occurs, we would easily become targets.” Zhao Mengcheng smiled.

Zhao Mao was stunned. He hadn’t known his father thought this way.

Zhao Mengcheng found his dazed expression quite amusing and pinched his cheek. “Your father is no bodhisattva-hearted saint. When I do things, it is ultimately to benefit myself. Everything else is just a byproduct.”

“But… but…” Zhao Mao was momentarily speechless.

Zhao Mengcheng asked mockingly, “What, are you disappointed in your father?”

Zhao Mao lowered his head, but after a moment, he looked up at him again. “No, Father is right to do this.”

“Even if Father has selfish motives, what you did was a good deed that benefited the villagers. Your selfishness did not harm anyone in the slightest. On the contrary, you shared the benefits with others. It shouldn’t be slandered; it should be praised.”

Zhao Mengcheng was amused. He felt that his child was very protective of his own; whatever he did, the boy would find a way to call it good.

Zhao Mao seemed afraid he was unhappy and continued, “If Father hadn’t come up with…”

He glanced at the other three children and, seeing that no one was paying attention, continued, “The matter of the White Dragon Manifestation, how could the villagers have cooperated during the spring plowing? If the River Dredging hadn’t started early, it would have been much harder once the rainy summer season arrived.”

“Father’s method was indeed clever, but the benefits outweigh the drawbacks, and it saved a lot of trouble. It was a brilliant strategy that achieved multiple goals at once.”

Zhao Mengcheng laughed heartily and couldn’t help but pull him into his arms. “Thank you for understanding, A-Mao.”

“A-Mao, you must remember: a gentleman is judged by his deeds, not his heart, for if one were judged by the heart, there would be no perfect man in this world. All mortals have selfish motives. Look at what a person does, not what they say. Talking is always much easier than doing.”

Zhao Mao only half-understood.

Zhao Mengcheng didn’t expect such a young child to understand instantly, so he added, “Mouths belong to other people. Whatever they say or do won’t affect me. There’s no need to get angry over it, and even less need to waste time and effort arguing with them.”

Zhao Mao pursed his lips. “But I couldn’t help it.”

“If you can’t help it, then there’s no need to hold back. Just scold them back and be done with it,” Zhao Mengcheng laughed.

Zhao Mao felt a bit awkward. “Dad, the teacher told me to go home and reflect. I don’t have to go back to study anymore.”

“It seems he has some self-awareness after all, knowing his own limited talent means he cannot teach you.” Zhao Mengcheng laughed again, his eyebrows arching slightly. “I’ll just help you find another teacher.”

Zhao Mao was somewhat reluctant and leaned into his arms. “Dad, I want to learn from you. You can teach me too.”

Zhao Mengcheng had a clear understanding of his own abilities. Teaching literacy was no problem, but he couldn’t provide a systematic classical education. “I am naturally willing to teach you, but the guidance of one person is inevitably limited. To listen to both sides is to be enlightened; to heed only one is to be in the dark⁶. You must listen more, learn more, and see more.”

As the father and son were talking affectionately, Zhao Chun ran over, drenched in sweat. “Second brother, why aren’t you practicing your calligraphy? Why are you leaning in Dad’s arms? Why are you such a crybaby?”

Zhao Mao’s face darkened. “None of your business.”

Zhao Chun got anxious. “I’m your big brother, why isn’t it my business? Dad, look at him. He doesn’t treat me like a big brother at all.”

Zhao Mengcheng smiled and said, “I’m not getting involved in the business between you two.”

“How about we have a fight? Whoever wins gets to be the boss,” Zhao Chun suggested.

Zhao Mao would have been a fool to agree. “Why don’t you compete with me in reciting texts? Whoever can’t recite is a puppy!”

Zhao Chun was clearly not a fool either. He rubbed his nose and gave a silly grin, then ran over to pull on Zhao Mengcheng. “Dad, I learned a few new moves. Let’s spar for a bit.”

“You’re pestering Father yourself, yet you have the nerve to talk about me.” Zhao Mao saw right through his little scheme.

Zhao Chun kept saying, “Dad, I’m really strong now. None of the other kids at the Escort Agency can beat me. There’s one who’s six years older than me, and he’s also been defeated by my hand.”

“Just keep boasting,” Zhao Mao grumbled, showing no mercy.

Zhao Mengcheng, however, grew interested and stood up. “Alright, then let’s spar a bit.”

Zhao Chun jumped three feet high with joy and said, “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll hold back a little. I definitely won’t hurt you.”

“Oh, you certainly have a big mouth.” Zhao Mengcheng looked at his son with a beaming smile, pondering where would be best to give the boy a lesson so he would understand that experience counts.

Zhao Xin stopped playing as well, pulling Tang Tang to the side to watch.

Tang Tang had arrived late and hadn’t seen Zhao Mengcheng’s skills yet, so he was quite curious. “Isn’t Uncle Zhao a scholar? Does he know martial arts too?”

Zhao Xin nodded without hesitation. “Of course. My dad knows everything. He’s very smart.”

Tang Tang thought in a daze, is that how being smart works? His own father was also very smart, but he was a frail scholar who couldn’t even catch a chicken. He looked at Zhao Mengcheng suspiciously.

He clearly had the refined look of a fair-skinned scholar. Did he really know martial arts?

Zhao Mengcheng and Zhao Chun began to move. Zhao Chun shouted and lunged, his posture actually looking quite impressive.

The boy’s words weren’t entirely false. After six months of work, Zhao Chun had developed some genuine skill. His punches whistled through the air, and there was a certain level of technique in his fighting.

Unfortunately, in front of Zhao Mengcheng, he would always be the son.

Zhao Mengcheng felt no shame in using his superior Mental Power to bully the child. Every strike landed perfectly, neutralizing Zhao Chun’s moves into nothingness.

At first, Zhao Chun was afraid of hurting his father, but as the fight went on, he got more and more worked up, eventually using every trick in his repertoire.

Even so, he remained the defeated party.

In the end, the boy simply lay down on the ground, questioning his very existence. “Are they all just letting me win? I can’t even beat Dad.”

Zhao Mengcheng reached out and kicked the person on the ground. “Your father is invincible under heaven.”

Zhao Chun chuckled. “Then I’m invincible against everyone except my dad.”

Father and son smiled at each other. Zhao Mengcheng shook his head and reached out to pull the mischievous boy up from the ground.

Zhao Chun was only dejected for a second before he started acting up again after standing. “I have to work harder on my kung fu. Dad, just wait for the day I surpass you.”

Zhao Mengcheng laughed loudly. “Fine, your dad will be waiting. Just don’t make me wait too long.”

Watching them, the other three finally understood where Zhao Chun’s uncontrollable self-confidence came from. It turned out the father and son shared the same lineage; they were exactly alike.

Tang Tang said to Zhao Xin, “Usually I always feel Brother Mao is more like Uncle Zhao, but seeing them today, Brother Chun is also very similar.”

Zhao Xin said with a smile, “Actually, I’m very similar too. I love being clean just like Dad, and I love eating delicious food. Since we’re father and daughter, we’re bound to be alike.”

“Dad!” Zhao Xin acted on a whim, running over and burying her head in Zhao Mengcheng’s arms.

Zhao Mengcheng was already used to it and naturally scooped her up to bounce her.

Zhao Xin let out a giggle and naturally hugged his neck to act spoiled. “Dad, don’t just play with Big Brother and Second Brother. You have to play with me too.”

“Alright, what does my Xin’er want to play?” Zhao Mengcheng asked with a smile.

Zhao Xin tilted her head and counted on her fingers. “I want to comb Dad’s hair, but Dad isn’t willing. I want to play shuttlecock with Dad, but Dad doesn’t like that either. Is there something Dad likes that Xin’er also likes?”

The little girl’s considerations were quite thorough.

“Those things of yours are too childish. Dad won’t like them,” Zhao Chun huffed from the side.

Zhao Xin was displeased and put her hands on her hips. “You’re the one who’s childish. Dad only plays with you because he dotes on you. You have no self-awareness at all.”

Zhao Chun could never win an argument against his younger sister, nor could he beat his younger brother in a verbal spat. In this house, the only thing he could win an argument against was that stubborn donkey.

Zhao Xin hummed, “Dad just played with Second Brother and then with Big Brother. Now it’s my turn. Big Brother, go away. Don’t even think about competing with me.”

“Who’s competing with you, you bossy ghost?” Zhao Chun walked away huffily.

Zhao Xin thought hard and finally slapped her forehead. “Dad, tell me a story. Tell the story of Sun the Monkey⁷.”

Zhao Mengcheng sat down under the veranda. Zhao Xin leaned beside him, propping up her chubby cheeks, ready to listen.

“Xiao Tang, come and listen with us,” Zhao Xin called out, turning her head.

Tang Tang ran over with a pitter-patter and sat beside her, looking up at Zhao Mengcheng with her.

At first glance, the two children, carved like pink jade, actually looked somewhat similar.

Zhao Mengcheng naturally didn’t mind having an extra listener and began the story with a smile. “Last time we talked about Sun the Monkey causing a ruckus in the Heavenly Palace⁸. Next…”

As he told the story vividly, Zhao Chun stopped practicing his kung fu and Zhao Mao stopped practicing his calligraphy. They gathered in a circle to listen to his story.

After a good while, Zhao Mengcheng finished one chapter and reminded them with a smile, “That’s all for today. To find out what happens next, listen to the next installment.”

Zhao Xin clung to his arm, refusing to let go. “Dad, talk a bit longer. Just a little bit.”

Zhao Mengcheng would not agree. “This is where we stop.”

In the beginning, he had been pestered by the children until he told chapter after chapter, but he had gained experience since then. If he listened to the children, he would be talking until dawn tomorrow.

Zhao Xin pestered him for a while, and seeing that he wouldn’t budge, she let out a long sigh. “Alright then, tomorrow it is.”

She even looked up at the sky gloomily. “Why is time moving so slowly? Why isn’t it tomorrow yet?”

Zhao Mengcheng didn’t know whether to laugh or cry and pushed her to go wash up. Once she was in bed, the child slept like a little pig.

The next day, Zhao Mengcheng indeed found another private school for Zhao Mao. Unlike the Old Scholar’s school, the teacher this time was surnamed Lin. He was also a Xiucai, but very young.

Scholar Lin was quite polite when he met the father and son. “Brother Zhao, I have heard of your great name for a long time. When I attended a banquet a few days ago, I heard Lord Huang mention you. At that time, I lamented that I had no chance to meet you. I didn’t expect we would have the fate to meet today.”

Zhao Mengcheng knew what he meant and said with a smile, “Scholar Lin is too polite. I’ll be entrusting my son to you from now on.”

“This must be Ah Mao. He looks like a clever child,” Scholar Lin praised, then looked at Zhao Mengcheng. “To be honest, I also feel that River Dredging is a major matter for the Shang River. It’s just a pity that the road to success is bumpy, and this matter was delayed again and again. Fortunately, with Lord Huang and Brother Zhao planning and strategizing, we have today’s success.”

“Some people say there is little rain this year and that River Dredging is unnecessary. I do not think so.”

“The dredged river channel isn’t just for one year. Even if there is little rain this year, there will always be times with plenty of rain next year or the year after. When that time comes, everyone will know that Lord Huang is the one with foresight.”

“It’s hateful that the ignorant people remain foolish. Despite Lord Huang’s painstaking efforts, they are ungrateful instead.”

Scholar Lin talked a lot, never seeming to stop.

When the father and son left the Lin family home, Zhao Mao instinctively looked at his father. “Dad, this teacher seems a bit…”

“Sophisticated and worldly,” Zhao Mengcheng laughed.

Zhao Mao smiled, feeling a bit embarrassed. “I’m not complaining that the teacher is bad, it’s just…”

Zhao Mengcheng knew the child’s unspoken words. It was just that Scholar Lin’s flattery was a bit too obvious, making it clear to anyone listening that he was sucking up to the County Magistrate.

“Scholar Lin hasn’t reached thirty⁹ yet. He certainly intends to continue with the imperial examinations. As such, his mind won’t be entirely on teaching. Preparing for the exams is his true ambition.”

Considering this point before, Zhao Mengcheng had chosen the Old Scholar after discussing it with the child.

Who would have thought that after only six months, they would end up back at Scholar Lin’s private school after all.

Zhao Mengcheng led his son along slowly, analyzing as he spoke. “He knows that I have some personal friendship with Lord Huang, so he did that on purpose to let the County Magistrate know his thoughts. It will make his future official career a bit smoother.”

Scholar Lin’s family was poor, and he had to rely on running a private school to earn money to support them. However, it was normal for him to be more interested in the exams and to hold Magistrate Huang in high esteem.

Zhao Mao nodded. “The previous teacher had no hope for the exams and no interest in an official career, so he was nitpicky toward the County Magistrate.”

“It’s because he knew Lord Huang wouldn’t make things difficult for him over a few words,” Zhao Mengcheng said calmly.

If Magistrate Huang were narrow-minded, the Old Scholar wouldn’t have dared to say those things publicly.

Zhao Mao understood and looked up to ask, “Dad, I think Teacher Lin is quite good this way. He knows what he wants and can set aside his pride, unlike many scholars who suffer for the sake of saving face.”

Zhao Mengcheng was amused and rubbed his hair. “Face is naturally not as important as substance.”

Zhao Mao asked again, “Dad, if it keeps not raining, will the villagers blame you?”

This year was completely different from last year. Last year there was plenty of rain, and the water level of the Shang River was never low.

But this year, the rainfall had clearly decreased. After spring began, there were only a few scattered light showers. Even in summer, there were many light rains but few heavy ones.

The Shang River hadn’t dried up, but now the mudflats were exposed.

Zhao Mengcheng wasn’t worried. “They are all using the water from Qingshan Lake. What is there to complain about?”

Zhao Mao thought about it and realized he was right. After the water level of the Shang River dropped, irrigation became a major problem for the villagers. Those near the river were better off, as they could save their crops by carrying water directly.

Carrying water to places far from the river was a different story. By the end of the day, a person would be half-dead from exhaustion, yet the rice fields would still be bone-dry.

At this time, Zhao Mengcheng stepped forward to encourage the villagers to continue digging canals, reversing the flow to draw water from Qingshan Lake.

The canals were already there, only requiring some work to divert the lake water for irrigation. Digging canals was tiring, but it was still better than carrying water by hand. At least their rice fields were saved.

In Qingshan Village, the Old Village Chief was also worrying.

There had been so much rain last year, but so little this year. After all the recent irrigation, the water level of Qingshan Lake had dropped.

The Old Village Chief couldn’t help but worry. “Bingkun, you don’t think we’re going to have a drought here, do you?”

Liu Bingkun replied helplessly, “Dad, if I knew that, I’d be an immortal.”

The Old Village Chief stood with his hands behind his back. “Surely not. We usually have more floods than droughts around here.”

“Dad, if you’re worried, why don’t you go ask Brother Mengcheng? He’s bound to have an idea,” Liu Bingkun suggested.

So Zhao Mengcheng took a detour to pick up his eldest son. As soon as the three of them returned home, they saw the Old Village Chief waiting inside. Upon seeing him, the Chief asked, “Mengcheng, do you think there will be a drought this year? Why has there been so little rain this summer?”

Zhao Mengcheng said helplessly, “Village Chief, you only need to look at the Shang River to know. We’ve had little rain here, but the Shang River hasn’t run dry, which means there’s still rainfall upstream.”

The Old Village Chief thought about it. “That’s true. It’s just that seeing the water level of Qingshan Lake drop makes me feel uneasy.”

Zhao Mengcheng comforted him, “The level is dropping because we’re drawing water for irrigation. Actually, it’s good for the level to drop a bit. Otherwise, if there’s too much water and a big flood comes, the lake won’t be able to hold it and will flood the surrounding areas.”

The Old Village Chief shook his head and laughed. “That would be a problem for next year. I doubt there will be any more big floods this year.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” Zhao Mengcheng said, feeling uncertain. The weather over the past few years had been far too abnormal.

After finally seeing off the Old Village Chief, Zhao Chun ran over with an excited look on his face. “Dad, there’s hardly any water in the river. Can we go play there?”

Although Zhao Mao and the others didn’t ask, they watched expectantly.

Zhao Chun added, “Everyone has been heading to the river these past two days. There’s so little water that no one could drown. They even dug up some mussels. Let’s go dig some up to try something fresh.”

Zhao Mengcheng felt a surge of interest at the mention of mussels. “Alright, let’s go together.”

The water level of the Shang River had indeed dropped significantly. At its deepest, the reed beds on both banks would be submerged, but now a large stretch of the riverbed was exposed. Water remained only in the center, and even at its deepest point, it only reached an adult’s thigh.

Since the water wasn’t deep, even more people had come to dig up the silt. When Zhao Mengcheng arrived with the children, he saw people already at work.

“I’m taking some back to plaster my walls. My neighbor’s child was sick, and they used this to coat the walls. The kid was better by the next day,” the person explained.

Zhao Chun had already stripped off his clothes and jumped into the river. He didn’t care about the stinking mud and quickly turned into a little mud-child.

He bent over and searched diligently, soon tossing up a large mussel. “Dad, catch!”

Zhao Mengcheng caught it and saw it was as large as two adult palms. It looked delicious. “Gather more. We can make a whole dish when we get home.”

“You got it! Just watch me,” Zhao Chun said with confidence.

Zhao Mao and Zhao Xin refused to be outdone and followed him down. Before long, they were shouting about a competition to see who could find the most mussels.

Tang Tang stood on the bank, hesitating. He was truly afraid of the fishy, stinking mud, but seeing them toss mussels onto the bank one after another, he finally couldn’t resist. He rolled up his trouser legs and stepped down.

Zhao Mengcheng didn’t stop him.

To his surprise, Tang Tang had only been down there for a moment when he felt his foot step on something hard. He grinned happily. “I stepped on one! It’s huge!”

The boy bent down to grab it, but in the next instant, he let out a scream of pain.

Translator’s Notes