Having met with Wanyan Qingjue, Zuo Wenhuai and his companions left the military camp and boarded a fare-charging carriage bound for the city, entering Chengdu just before sunset.
The four Huaxia Army soldiers traveling with him were, in fact, all surnamed Zuo — children who had, over the years, entered the Huaxia Army for training under arrangements made back then by Zuo Duanyou. Though there were distinctions within the Zuo clan between the main line and branch lines, those who had managed to survive to this point amid the Huaxia Army’s high-intensity warfare had all proven themselves capable, independent talents.
“Before coming, I asked around a bit — Uncle might be here this time to try to call us back.”
“After all these years in the Huaxia Army, my family’s settled in here. What would I go back for?”
“Well, that may not be quite fair to say. Third Grandfather sent us out here counting on us being able to go back one day, after all.”
“Go back where? The Wu Dynasty? It’s rotted through — there’s no hope left there.”
“Wenhuai, what do you think?”
“I think… we should hear what Uncle Quan has to say before deciding anything.”
The spacious carriage made its way into the city. Under the fading rays of the setting sun, the assembled Zuo family youths discussed briefly among themselves the matters weighing on their minds. As night approached, at the garden within the guest hall, they met with Zuo Xiuquan, who had been waiting for some time, along with two Zuo family brothers who had arrived earlier.
The group paid their respects to Zuo Xiuquan, exchanged greetings, and then took their seats in the dining hall arranged within the guest hall. Since the Zuo family had covered the expense, the dishes were more lavish than usual, though not extravagantly so. Once seated, Zuo Xiuquan asked each of them in turn about their positions within the army and the details of the battles they had fought, and then paid tribute to several Zuo family sons who had fallen in the fighting.
“…When Third Uncle sent you all to the Huaxia Army back then, there was no end of discussion within the clan about it. But seeing the fine bearing you all show today, I’m truly gratified. The children of those days have all become accomplished men now — Third Uncle’s spirit in heaven can rest easy. Come, let us all raise a cup in his honor.”
After some reminiscing, speaking of Zuo Duanyou brought tears to Zuo Xiuquan’s eyes, and together they all paid tribute to that far-sighted old man of years past.
Afterward, Zuo Xiuquan told the group about the recent state of the Zuo family.
Back when the Wu Dynasty was still whole, the roots of the Zuo family had been in the Central Plains. It was only when the Jurchens swept south and the Central Plains fell into chaos that the Zuo family followed the Jianshuo court southward. During the ten prosperous years of the Jianshuo court, though the Zuo family maintained deep connections with various parties and held substantial influence at court, they had not, like others, pursued aggressive economic expansion. Instead, grounding themselves in scholarship, they had provided various great clans with information and insight. In the eyes of many, this amounted to little more than quietly building reputation while keeping a low profile.
Of course, on the other hand, after the great battle at Xiaocang River, when the Huaxia Army relocated to the southwest and began reopening trade, the Zuo family had played a significant role in the process. At the time, when word spread that Ning Yi had died and the Huaxia Army had only just reached Liangshan with its foundations still unstable, it was the Zuo family who had served as intermediaries — on one hand marketing large quantities of arms on the Huaxia Army’s behalf to the outside world, and on the other transporting substantial grain supplies into the mountains to support the Huaxia Army’s recovery.
Such conduct had, naturally, drawn criticism at first, but the Zuo family’s long-cultivated reputation and low profile had kept most tongues in check. By the time the Huaxia Army’s trade with the outside world had properly opened up, the Zuo family had become one of the most important intermediaries between the Huaxia Army and the outside world. They provided good service at modest fees, maintaining the integrity expected of scholars, which steadily raised the Zuo family’s standing within the Wu Dynasty’s private circles. Any faction that secretly chose to trade with the Huaxia Army — even those with no goodwill toward the Huaxia Army at all — was nonetheless willing to maintain good relations with the Zuo family no matter what. As for the criticism leveled at the Zuo family in public, it had all but vanished entirely.
When the Jurchens launched their fourth southern campaign, Xiyin had originally considered wiping out the Zuo family, then residing around Longxing (present-day Nanchang, Jiangxi), in one stroke. But the Zuo family had prepared in advance and slipped away beforehand — it was instead several nearby warlords, such as Yu Gusheng and Li Touhe, who subsequently surrendered to the Jurchens. Of course, as the Battle of Changsha unfolded, several warlord factions suffered heavy losses, and the Zuo family was able to return to Longxing once more.
At this point, though the Zuo family commanded few troops of its own, their long-standing reputation for neutrality meant that every faction had to show them some deference. Even the people within the treasonous “petty court” plotting in Lin’an were reluctant to casually offend Zuo Jiyun, who was quite possibly more closely aligned with the boy-emperor in Fuzhou.
Given all this, even against the backdrop of the Huaxia Army’s decisive victory over the Jurchen western army, the Zuo family alone, among all such factions, had no need to show any excessive deference before the Huaxia Army. This was simply because, under the most difficult of circumstances, they had already established themselves as fully equal allies to the Huaxia Army — one might even say that, in the early days at Liangshan in the southwest, they had actually been a faction to which the Huaxia Army owed a debt of gratitude. This was the dividend earned by Zuo Duanyou’s all-or-nothing gamble in the final period of his life.
After the Jurchens broke through into Jiangnan, countless people had fled in all directions, and the Zuo family had naturally lost some of its members amid that chaos as well. Having laid out the general situation, Zuo Xiuquan then began discussing matters of substance with the younger generation gathered there.
“…Regarding this southern campaign by the Jurchens, Third Uncle had made certain predictions beforehand. He judged that the Jurchen advance south was unavoidable, and that the Wu Dynasty would very likely be unable to withstand this assault — but he was equally certain that the Jurchens could never succeed in destroying the Wu Dynasty outright or gaining full control of Jiangnan… Of course, even under such circumstances, your Third Grandfather’s instruction was that the family should not command troops, nor involve itself directly in military affairs.”
Zuo Xiuquan looked around at those seated at the table, then continued. “Unless the Zuo family could train soldiers better than the Huaxia Army itself, unless we could raise an army to match theirs — no army should ever be relied upon as a crutch. When it’s time to leave, leave; when it’s time to flee, flee. The chances of survival are likely greater that way.”
“Third Grandfather was wise,” said Zuo Wenhuai, sitting at the table, with a nod.
“But as for what path lies ahead from here, even your Third Grandfather couldn’t say for certain.” Zuo Xiuquan looked around at everyone with a smile. “And that, in fact, is one of the reasons I’ve come to the southwest this time.”
“Do you want us to go back?”
“I’ve discussed this matter with Mr. Ning, and he’s given his approval.” Having said this, Zuo Xiuquan tapped his fingers lightly on the table. “And it’s not back to Longxing, nor back to the Zuo family — though a visit there would certainly be in order too — but mainly, back to the Wu Dynasty.”
Once he’d said this, the room fell silent, everyone weighing the matter. Zuo Xiuquan smiled. “Of course, your own views will be taken into account as much as possible.”
“The Wu Dynasty is hopeless,” said one young man seated below Zuo Wenhuai.
“The future surely belongs to the Huaxia Army. We’ve only just defeated the Jurchens — that’s merely the first step. In time, the Huaxia Army will conquer Jiangnan, push through the Central Plains, and strike into the Jin state itself. Uncle Quan, how could we possibly not be part of that? I don’t want to leave.”
“That’s right, Uncle Quan — only the Huaxia Army can save this world from ruin. Why would we go back to the Wu Dynasty at all?”
Three men at the table voiced their positions in turn, while several others, like Zuo Wenhuai, sat quietly, lips pressed together. Zuo Xiuquan listened to them with a smile. “Which is exactly why your own views must be taken into account. That said, I do have my own views on this matter, and your Third Grandfather held certain views of his own as well, back in his day. Since we have time today, would you like to hear them?”
Zuo Wenhuai said, “Please, Uncle Quan, speak plainly.”
Zuo Xiuquan nodded. “First, there’s the new court in Fuzhou — you’ve all surely heard of it by now. The new sovereign has real resolve, quite unlike rulers of the past, and is carrying out bold reforms over there — rather interesting, and perhaps capable of charting a somewhat better path forward. What’s more, this new sovereign was once a disciple of Mr. Ning’s — if you were to go there, I’m sure there would be much to discuss between you.”
Having said this with a smile, most of those present showed some skepticism, but having spent so long training within the Huaxia Army, no one rushed to voice an opinion right away. Zuo Xiuquan’s gaze swept over the group, and he nodded with a measure of approval.
“Second, there’s a group in Fuzhou now, led by Li Pin, working on something called New Confucianism. At present it hasn’t produced any particularly striking results, but back in his day, your Third Grandfather did give it his approval. He felt this group had real potential to accomplish something — even if, in the end, they couldn’t turn the tide entirely, at the very least they might leave behind a seed, or indirectly influence the Huaxia Army’s future course. So they very much need us to send some people over — people who understand how the Huaxia Army thinks. You all would be well suited for it — in fact, you’re really the only ones who could go.”
At this point, someone finally spoke up with a smile: “They may need it, but that doesn’t necessarily mean we have to be the ones to go.”
Zuo Xiuquan nodded. “Of course, these first two points may seem like minor details at first glance, and in light of what I’m about to say next, they’ll seem like nothing at all. This next thing is something your Third Grandfather wanted to ask you, on his deathbed…”
He said: “Is Confucianism really as worthless as all that?”
The question was simple and direct, and the hall fell silent for a moment, everyone glancing at one another, no one speaking. After all, such a question could be answered simply or elaborately, but however one chose to answer it, any answer given in this moment seemed to fall somewhat short.
“No need to answer.” Zuo Xiuquan tapped his fingers on the table. “These are the words your Third Grandfather left behind on his deathbed — some thoughts he wanted to pass on to all of you. As you all know, your Third Grandfather once traveled to Xiaocang River, and engaged in numerous debates with Mr. Ning over the years. In the end, neither could convince the other. As for matters of warfare, Mr. Ning has since let facts speak for themselves — that’s the only arbiter there can be — but on matters beyond warfare, your Third Grandfather left behind some thoughts of his own…”
“As for Confucianism, I know full well what stance the Huaxia Army takes, and I certainly know what views you all, having spent so long within the Huaxia Army, must hold of it. Even if it’s not utterly beyond redemption, at the very least you’d surely call it out of step with the times. But there’s one thing you should note — from the very start, when it comes to speaking of abolishing Confucianism, Mr. Ning’s stance has been extremely resolute. He has put forward the Four Occupations, the study of natural principles, the call to overturn sentiment-reason-law — all of it quite reasonable. But in actual practice, he has never gone about it in a truly radical way.”
“…In truth, he has never said Confucianism is beyond all redemption. He has always welcomed criticism from Confucian scholars directed at the Huaxia Army, has always welcomed genuine scholars to come to the southwest to engage in discussion with everyone, and has always acknowledged that there are some worthwhile things within Confucianism. You’ve all been within the Huaxia Army all this time — tell me, isn’t that so?”
Someone nodded. “Confucianism has indeed run into many problems, walked itself into something of a dead end… but there is genuinely good in it too.”
Zuo Xiuquan pointed at him. “But here’s the thing — given his standing today, he could easily have declared Confucianism utterly beyond redemption. You all find this sense of restraint quite reasonable today, precisely because Mr. Ning has deliberately maintained that restraint. Yet there’s a saying that’s always held true in officialdom and at court: to correct an excess, one must first overcorrect. Mr. Ning has not done this. The restraint in this is, frankly, worth pondering. Of course, you all have the chance to see Mr. Ning directly — I imagine you could simply ask him the reason yourselves — but I suspect it wouldn’t differ much from what I’m telling you today.”
Everyone looked at him, and Zuo Xiuquan smiled faintly. “Nothing in this world can be accomplished in one stroke; no reform can be so thorough as to leave no foundation at all standing. The Four Occupations are excellent, the study of natural principles is a fine thing too. Sentiment-reason-law may well be a problem — but even granting that it’s a problem, it has been planted in the minds of all people under heaven for thousands upon thousands of years. Just because you declare one day that it’s no good — can you simply discard it, just like that?”
“It’s precisely because he’s thought through matters like these that Mr. Ning’s subsequent actions have grown ever more measured rather than more urgent. There’s much fine detail one could go into here, but as for the world at large, your Third Grandfather’s view was this: the very best things can rarely be realized all at once, and the very worst things are, of course, already out of step with the times — so one should seek the middle way. In the end, the path that can actually work must lie somewhere between the Huaxia Army and this New Confucianism. The more the two mutually verify and refine each other, the smoother that path will be, the fewer lives will be lost along the way, and the more good things will remain in the end.”
Zuo Xiuquan continued calmly. “Which is to say, the Huaxia Army’s path may not necessarily succeed, and this so-called New Confucian reform in Fuzhou may not truly manage to turn Confucianism upside down — but the two sides can still exchange ideas. Just as Mr. Ning welcomes Confucian scholars to come debate with him, if what the Huaxia Army holds can find its way east, then the east too can do better for it — and if these two somewhat-improved things can in turn verify and refine each other, then the path ahead, in time, can only grow smoother.”
“As for Confucianism — what is it, really? Is the Confucianism of the Great Sage Confucius the same as today’s Confucianism? What’s the difference between Confucius’s Confucianism and Mencius’s? In truth, over these thousands of years, Confucianism has never stopped changing, moment to moment. From the pre-Qin Confucianism down to the Han dynasty, it had already absorbed elements of Legalist thought, emphasizing ‘inner sagehood, outer kingliness’ — already quite different from Confucius’s own idea of benevolence.”
Zuo Xiuquan smiled. “The Sage Confucius, in his day, emphasized the education and moral transformation of all people. He alone had three thousand disciples and seventy-two worthies among them — just think, he transformed three thousand people, and if each of those three thousand disciples went on to transform dozens or hundreds more, within a few generations the whole world would be filled with worthy men, and all under heaven would achieve great harmony. But push that logic forward, and it simply doesn’t work in practice. By the time of Dong Zhongshu, Confucianism took Legalism as its practical application while retaining ‘inner sagehood, outer kingliness’ as its ideal. Push forward further still, and — as your own Mr. Ning has put it — since the common people are hard to govern, one simply castrates their fighting spirit. It’s an expedient measure, useful in the short term, but the dynasty gradually perishes from foreign invasion as a result… Wenhuai, today’s Confucianism, in Mr. Ning’s mouth, is rigid and outdated — but what exactly is Confucianism, anyway?”
He looked at Zuo Wenhuai, then around at everyone else. “Confucianism, tracing back to its origin in the Sage Confucius, has already changed countless times over more than two thousand years. What we study today, one might say, isn’t really ‘Confucianism’ so much as the study of ‘what actually works’ — and the moment something stops working, it’s bound to change. It has some things that look rather bad today, but the common people of this world — it’s very hard to simply overthrow it outright. Just as Mr. Ning has said about the problem of sentiment, reason, and law — all the people under heaven live by these principles. If you suddenly declare them invalid, blood will be spilled…”
“Mr. Ning knows this too — that blood will be spilled,” Zuo Xiuquan said. “Once he wins the realm and begins carrying out sweeping reforms, many people will bleed in the process of those reforms. But if, before that happens, everyone has had more time to prepare, perhaps less blood will be spilled. This is the very point I was making earlier about the Wu Dynasty’s new sovereign, and about New Confucianism… Perhaps one day the Huaxia Army truly will win the realm, and the Jin state, the Wu Dynasty, and clowns like Wu Qimei and Dai Mengwei will all be gone — and at that point, reforming the study of natural principles, the Four Occupations, and sentiment-reason-law still won’t go entirely smoothly. But if, by then, we’ve already developed some good things within New Confucianism, those things can be brought out and put to use. Tell me then — will the Confucianism of that day still be today’s Confucianism? Will the Huaxia of that day still necessarily be today’s Huaxia?”
The hall fell silent for a moment.
Zuo Xiuquan sat there, gently rubbing his hands together. “This was Third Uncle’s greatest hope in sending you all to the Huaxia Army — that you would learn what is good there, bring it back to the Wu Dynasty, let it take root and turn there, and then bring back to the Huaxia Army whatever good things the Wu Dynasty still has to offer. It may not amount to anything in the end — perhaps Mr. Ning is brilliant enough to solve every problem on his own. But if that’s not the case, don’t forget: stones from other hills can polish one’s own jade.”
“This matter — the old man has already paved the way for it, and at present, only the Zuo family is truly suited to carry it out. So it falls to you all, and only you. This is your responsibility to all the people under heaven, and you should shoulder it.”
The autumn wind passed through the hall, the candle flames flickering, and everyone sat in silence at these words.
The Zuo family was a large clan, originally quite particular about hierarchy in the manner of a Confucian scholarly household. A group of children had been sent into the Huaxia Army, and their own opinions had originally counted for little. But after years of hardship within the Huaxia Army — including experiencing the violence of battle, and being steeped in so many of Ning Yi’s ideas — Zuo Wenhuai and the others no longer placed quite so much weight on clan authority.
Had Zuo Xiuquan issued them a blunt order, even in the name of Zuo Duanyou, whom everyone respected most, it might well have caused some friction. But he had not done so — instead, he had guided them patiently, step by step, from the very start, only returning to a solemn command at the very end: “This is your responsibility to all the people under heaven, and you should shoulder it.”
After a moment of silence, Zuo Xiuquan tapped the table again with a smile. “Of course, there’s no great rush about this. Think it over in the days ahead — and it wouldn’t hurt to discuss it with Mr. Ning as well, in my view. But this matter of going home isn’t for the sake of my own Zuo family’s fortunes. This time, the Huaxia Army and the Wu Dynasty’s new sovereign will be conducting a major exchange, and it’s my hope that you’ll all make sure to take part in it… Well then, that’s enough of serious matters for today. The day after tomorrow, our whole family will go watch the parade together.”
Zuo Xiuquan rose from his seat with a smile. Several of the younger Zuo men rose as well. “The day after tomorrow I’ll be marching in the ranks — Uncle, you’ll be watching from above.”
Someone else chimed in: “Me too.”
Everyone laughed, and Zuo Xiuquan broke into the warm smile of an old man, nodding repeatedly.
“Good, good — you’ve all made something of yourselves, made something of yourselves. Come, let’s go talk more about the fighting…”
The autumn wind stirred gently, and lanterns flickered throughout the guest hall, inside and out. Many people came and went in the area, and the lights in many of the Huaxia Army’s offices still burned brightly and densely.
Even in the courtyard where Ning Yi conducted his affairs, people came and went in waves, each still occupied with their own work. Amid the bustle, they awaited the arrival of golden autumn in the eighth month.
In the camp outside the city, Wanyan Qingjue gazed at the starlight above, imagining his homeland a thousand li away. At this moment, the Jurchen army returning north had largely already crossed back into Jin territory. Wuqimai had passed away just days before — news that had not yet spread to the lands in the south. Within the Jin state, therefore, another storm was already brewing.
Zuo Wenhuai and the others spent the day visiting friends and making the rounds within the city of Chengdu. And then, the eighth month arrived.