The Ming Dynasty: My sister, Empress Ma

After exchanging only a few words, Liang Yin stopped paying attention to Ma Wenyuan.

This old man is not greedy for fame and fortune, so there's no reason for him to value Ma Wenyuan, the emperor's brother-in-law.

Ma Wenyuan followed Liang Yin to the edge of the vegetable garden.

Liang Yin began his busy farming season on his own.

Scholars in ancient times seemed to like to imitate the story of Tao Yuanming, and put together a whole play of picking chrysanthemums in the southeast.

Looking at that small but neatly tended vegetable patch.

Ma Wenyuan didn't say anything, but squatted down, gathered the radishes that Liang Yin had pulled out, shook off the mud, and put them into a bamboo basket.

Seeing this, Liang Yin straightened up, glanced at him, said nothing, and then bent down to pluck another one.

An old man and a young boy picked half a basket of radishes. Liang Yin then washed his hands in the stream, walked under the eaves, picked up a bowl of cool tea, and slowly drank it.

Ma Wenyuan got straight to the point again, handing over a piece of paper.

Liang Yin took the roll of paper, unfolded it, and saw that it was a course outline.

The curriculum included six subjects: literacy, classical texts, arithmetic, investigation of things, drawing, and objects. Each subject was further divided into several sub-categories, all clearly written out.

"Literacy and classical studies are compulsory courses for every student."

Ma Wenyuan stepped forward and pointed to the items on the paper.

"Of the more than two hundred students in the school, more than half of them could not even recite the Thousand Character Classic in its entirety."

"Indeed, there are other teachers for elementary education, so there is no need for Mr. Liang to do it personally."

"But these students will need to learn about things and objects in the future. If they only learn to read, it won't be of much use."

"At that time, they may not even be able to understand the blueprints or remember the data."

"Therefore, the younger generation needs a great scholar like you, to teach these students the classics and set rules for them."

Liang Yin looked at it for a long time, then folded the paper and returned it to Ma Wenyuan.

"Your Excellency, I have already said it. I am seventy-two years old and can no longer walk."

Ma Wenyuan looked at Liang Yin, his tone sincere and resolute.

"Sir, I want you to teach them why we should be human, how to study, what a gentleman is, and what righteousness is."

"These things are called classics in books, and once you leave the school, they become the foundation for a person's conduct and behavior."

"Among my younger students, some will surely become generals, some will become craftsmen, some will become geomancers, and some may become nothing at all and go home to farm."

"But whatever they do, I hope they will be good people and wise people. This is something I cannot do; only a great Confucian scholar like you can do it."

He reasoned with them and appealed to their emotions, and Ma Wenyuan never hesitated to use words of praise.

Although old man Liang Yin did not covet wealth and fame, no one dislikes hearing kind words.

Ma Wenyuan's words elevated Liang Yin to such a high level; how could the old man not be happy?

Liang Yin stroked his beard but didn't reply.

Ma Wenyuan pressed his advantage, adding...

"Sir, I have another question for you. You've taught your whole life, and have taught thousands upon thousands of students. How many of them have truly put the principles you taught into practice?"

These words were spoken.

Liang Yin's expression shifted slightly, but he still didn't respond.

Ma Wenyuan is telling the truth. What are scholars these days?

That's the God of Literature, who never lifts a finger and needs to be high above.

These Wenquxing (a star associated with literature and scholarship) have only one goal from beginning to end: to become an official, cultivate oneself, and govern the country.

But is it necessary to govern a country with so many old people?

Of course not, there aren't that many official positions.

If they can't become officials, then these literary geniuses can only live like Liang Yin, building a hut and cultivating themselves.

Some of the more diligent ones might take on disciples, but most people just immerse themselves in the pleasures of life, spending their days poring over words and reciting nonsensical poems.

Liang Yin couldn't hold back any longer. He sat down on the stone stool in front of the door and patted the spot next to him. "Sit. Since you're so eager to talk, I'll hear what else you have to say."

Ma Wenyuan sat down next to him.

A mountain breeze swept through the bamboo grove, carrying the earthy and grassy scents. In the distance, wisps of smoke rose from the village below, slowly dissipating in the autumn twilight.

Liang Yin leaned against the door frame, gazing at the distant mountains.

He said he wanted to hear Ma Wenyuan continue, but in reality, the old man couldn't help but speak first.

Liang Yin gazed into the distance, his eyes filled with a sense of vicissitude.

"Your Excellency, I have been teaching all my life. Many of my students have become officials, and some have even become scholars."

"But when I think about it, there really aren't many people who 'put theory into practice' as you mentioned."

"Scholars read the classics, passed the imperial examinations, became officials, and then busied themselves climbing the ranks, accumulating wealth, and planning for the future of their children and grandchildren."

"How much of the principles I taught them—benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trustworthiness; self-cultivation, family harmony, governing the state, and bringing peace to the world—do they still remember?"

"I don't think so."

The old man turned his head and looked at Ma Wenyuan, his eyes filled with a hint of self-mockery and a hint of bitterness.

"Most of the students in your school are fatherless children, and no one expects them to become officials or get rich."

"If I go, perhaps I can truly instill these principles in their hearts."

Ma Wenyuan was secretly delighted, but Liang Yin changed the subject.

"But, Your Excellency, as I said before, have you ever thought about this? I am seventy-two years old this year."

"From Shimen Mountain to Yingtian Prefecture, it's hundreds of miles. Even if you don't die of illness on the way, how many more years can you teach once you get to Yingtian Prefecture?"

One year? Two years?

"You went to all this trouble to invite me, and now that I'm kicking the bucket in two years, what will happen to your students?"

Ma Wenyuan, however, was prepared.

"What you say is true. The junior invited you not to teach for a long time."

"The junior invited the teacher to establish a rule and set a standard for the school."

"The students are divided into several grades, what books each grade should read, to what level they should read, and how they should be assessed. I, as a junior, know nothing about these things."

"Only someone like you, who has taught for a lifetime, can set such a firm rule. Once the rules are set, everyone else just follows them. Even if you only teach for one year, it will be enough for the school to use for ten years."

Admittedly, there are examples in later generations that can be followed.

But the situation is different, so it needs to be discussed separately.

In this day and age, the mainstream education is classical Chinese learning, not exam-oriented education.

Ma Wenyuan cannot change this.

He could divide the process of investigating things and acquiring knowledge into his own categories, deciding what to learn at each stage.

But he's still not very good at understanding the principles.

Ma Wenyuan was a Jinshi (a successful candidate in the highest imperial examinations) and could be considered a cultured person.

But people are different.

Looking across the entire Ming Dynasty, there probably wasn't anyone who could learn at his pace.

Professional matters should naturally be handled by professionals.

Liang Yin narrowed his eyes slightly.

"You certainly think long-term."

"If the younger generation doesn't think about the long term, the school will have to go on."

Ma Wenyuan said frankly,

"These two hundred-plus children are not here to waste their time."

"Some of them walked hundreds of miles to come, some were brought by their mothers, and some were orphans who walked here on their own. We, the younger generation, cannot let them come for nothing."

Liang Yin fell silent.

Ma Wenyuan decided to add fuel to the fire, stood up, and solemnly bowed to Liang Yin.

"Sir, I am not here today to ask for your help."

"I have come to ask you to teach me."

"Teaching is what you've done your whole life, not helping younger generations; it's your own profession."

"Life on Shimen Mountain is austere. You taught your whole life and taught so many students, but where are they now? How many are still by your side? Go to Yingtian Prefecture and teach those children who have lost their fathers. They will call you 'Teacher' and remember you for a lifetime."

"Isn't this better than growing radishes on the mountain?"

These words struck a chord with the old man, and Liang Yin's hand trembled slightly.

Most older people like to have someone with them.

They would be happy to watch the younger generation, to see them full of vigor and high spirits, and then reminisce about their glorious past.

Most people are afraid of loneliness, and Liang Yin is no exception.