Chapter 98: Confucianism

As Ning Yi walked out of the room, he sighed.

Li Pin was still inside, possibly mulling over the ideas he'd heard, or perhaps jotting down a few notes. It didn't matter much—once something was spoken, it was no longer his concern how the listener would ponder it later. That would become Li Pin's thoughts, his own path to follow.

Some things Ning Yi had shared, others he hadn't. As he'd said, "It's all a joke." This wasn't just a way of dismissing the matter or covering up; in his view, it was indeed just a joke, a thoughtless jest without responsibility.

To address the flaws and gaps in the current political system was akin to a fool's errand. Of course, if he were to talk solely about the problems at hand, he did have thoughts on them—such as business. In the Wuchao dynasty, commerce wasn't a pressing need; it was already a long-standing strength, longer than any other. By the standards of balanced development, many other systems simply couldn't keep up with the growth of commerce. If commerce were to develop further, any gains would be unhealthy and deformed. For a country, such deformities were dangerous.

As for Confucianism, it had reached the point of saturation and overflow. If there were any chance to move forward, detailed specialization might be a good direction: on the one hand, it would reasonably disperse the surplus educational resources; on the other hand, it could prepare for the upcoming industrial revolution. Of course, it looked nice in theory, but in reality, it was just a joke.

The root of everything lay in Confucianism.

Ning Yi wasn't offering false flattery or sarcasm when he said he admired Confucianism; it was truly from the heart, from a place of genuine respect. He had always been involved in management, able to clearly see the merits and flaws of various management disciplines. When managing a company with thousands or tens of thousands of people, he could perfect the system, ensuring everyone followed it, and the cycle would continue smoothly—everything would go as planned. But life was never that simple, and a country was far from being that superficial.

Confucianism wasn't just the outdated and useless teachings of Confucius. The Analects merely taught how to cultivate one's heart and nature, basic life principles. The rulers who followed later had found the key within these teachings, figuring out how to create rules, to use and guide these principles, and then improving and supplementing them over generations. When problems arose, they would adjust, tweaking the system, finding compromises. Over the course of thousands of years, the greatest minds of each dynasty contributed to the perfection of this governing philosophy, much like the sands of the sea sifting through time.

Peel away the seemingly gentle and outdated surface, and this was a thoroughly pragmatic and effective ruling system. In modern management philosophy, for instance, creating a company culture and making employees feel a sense of belonging takes immense effort, almost becoming the ultimate goal. If modern management were a software program, Confucianism would be a vast family tree of genes, governing the hearts of millions without anyone even noticing. People would simply take it for granted.

After thousands of years of development and evolution, the Han people, as a whole, had developed a sort of genetic bundle. Even after a thousand years, anyone who ruled this land could only adapt Confucianism in a way that suited their time. It wasn't because they admired Han culture, but because any alternative system would be doomed to fail. In terms of intricacy and complexity, Confucianism surpassed European constitutional monarchy, parliamentary systems, the rule of the church, Japanese bushido, or India's caste system. None of these could compare.

It was like a vast spider's web—touch one part, and the rest of the web reacts. Trying to make reforms from within, no one knows where to apply force, nor how much force is needed to achieve any result. It's like striking the water with a punch—no matter how high the splash, the ripples will always return. A person attempting reform is up against a massive network of millions of people, a collection of the brightest minds from every dynasty, a colossal, unparalleled Taiji diagram. It's like trying to flip a piece of string within such a system using one's own strength.

For Ning Yi, he could sit back and admire the beauty of this system, even shudder at its exquisite perfection. But when it came to implementing reform, he lacked the confidence for internal innovation. Some dynasties did see brilliant individuals find the key to the system, but whether they were truly correct was always uncertain. Take Wang Anshi's reforms in the Northern Song Dynasty: a genius received the emperor's support and persisted for years, but eventually, the immense pressure led to failure. Similarly, in the Qin Dynasty, Shang Yang's reforms found the right key and succeeded, but as an individual, he still made too many enemies, ultimately suffering a tragic death.

Chinese philosophy contains the principles of Yin and Yang, where the greater the force exerted, the greater the backlash. Those who attempt major reforms within Confucianism usually end poorly. Of course, those with ideas can still push within this system, and Li Pin had the qualifications to do so. If he wanted to act, Ning Yi wouldn't stop him, which is why he had casually shared his thoughts.

However, deep down, Ning Yi knew that internal reforms were an uphill battle with no reward. Even if he was good at scheming and political maneuvering, even with modern theories, he knew that once the force was applied, it would rebound. He had no confidence in stopping that.

Of course, why try to stop it? If something had to be done, Ning Yi would consider following the example of the Liao or Jin dynasties—topple the entire Wuchao from the outside. The system of governance must be attached to human existence. Once the country fell and the Confucian system stagnated, one could then seize the opportunity to introduce new ideas into the system. Simultaneously, all the accumulated inefficiencies of the long-running system could be swept away. It would be like reinstalling a computer system—then watching it reboot, gradually adjusting and adapting to its new environment.

This, to Ning Yi, was the simplest way to reform. Of course, even in casual conversation, he couldn't speak this openly to Li Pin. Li Pin was interested in internal reforms, so Ning Yi spoke to him about it. Li Pin wasn't someone who blindly followed without thought—if he was initially startled by Ning Yi's blunt words, he would eventually digest them and integrate them into his own worldview. If Li Pin were to accomplish something great in the future, Ning Yi would merely observe with interest.

It was just idle chatter. The time was only in the afternoon, and Ning Yi was just a bored merchant's son-in-law. After the conversation, he dismissed it from his mind and walked toward the academy. As he approached the gate of Yushan Academy, he saw two carriages parked at the corner by the wall. Some attendants and guards were waiting nearby. The carriages were from the Yong Wang Mansion. Ning Yi raised an eyebrow, looking back toward the academy.

Had that pair of siblings come to challenge him again, and they just missed him?

"It's fine if we miss it." Ning Yi shook his head with a wicked smile and walked away. He hadn't had lunch yet and was planning to go to a nearby restaurant on the street by the academy to grab something to eat. As he turned the corner, he saw Xiao Chan coming from the other side of the road. Passing under the shade of a large locust tree, she spotted him and waved with a smile. "Master." The sunlight poured down from above the tree.

Xiao Chan was accompanied by a servant carrying some boxes. Recently, a number of disaster victims had suddenly come into the city. Although the security situation was generally okay, the Su household had still instructed the ladies and maids to always have someone accompany them when going out, just in case something happened. This servant was probably sent by Xiao Chan to accompany her, acting as a follower and bodyguard. Now that he had seen Ning Yi, Xiao Chan turned around, said a few words, and then slightly nodded, bowing to thank him before sending the servant back. The servant seemed a little flattered, as Xiao Chan was always polite and amiable when in a good mood, treating everyone with warmth and kindness.

Meanwhile, outside the Yu Mountain Academy, where Ning Yi had just left, a pair of siblings had sneaked out from the academy, but upon seeing no sign of Ning Yi, they appeared more at ease. Zhou Junwu looked at the streets on either side, slumped his shoulders, and said, "Sister, that Ning Yi is really impressive."

Zhou Pei fell into a moment of silence, furrowing her brow. After a long pause, she glanced at her brother and said, "I know, he's very impressive."

"So, should we still ask him?"

"Of course we should." Zhou Pei thought for a moment and walked toward the carriage. "But we'll come back when we're ready."

"Mm-hmm." Zhou Junwu followed behind, nodding in agreement. "He actually made Li Pin bow down in defeat—he's amazing. Just how impressive is he… though, some of what he said was a bit hard for me to understand… Sister, did you understand it?"

"Shut up."

"Oh… but I think…"

The sibling's voices faded as the carriage started, disappearing down the street. On this early autumn afternoon, with the white clouds drifting lazily in the sky, Ning Yi and Xiao Chan were heading to a nearby restaurant on the other side of the street.

That night, Zhou Pei sat in the garden of King Kang's mansion, lost in thought. There were no lanterns lit, and no maids had come to disturb her. The young lady, who held the title of princess, enjoyed these quiet moments to think. She wore a long skirt, and her hair, still damp from her bath, hung loosely. She had removed her shoes and socks and leaned back in a pavilion in the garden. The time was nearing the middle of the seventh month, and the moonlight was bright and clear, while fireflies danced around the nearby flowers and plants.

Zhou Junwu wasn't home that night. After dinner, he had gone to play at his grandfather the Duke's place. At that moment, he was also sitting in the Duke's garden, enjoying the cool air while the other children ran about playing. Seizing a quiet moment, he leaned over to Kang Xian and quietly repeated what he had heard earlier that day.

"Grandfather, that Ning Yi… was what he said reasonable?"

Kang Xian furrowed his brows, his gaze as serious as a deep, bottomless ravine. He was always known for his rigorous approach to scholarship, but his usual stern demeanor was reserved for moments like this, when he wasn't with Zhou Pei and Zhou Junwu. Unless discussing something truly important with figures like Master Qin, he rarely showed such an intense look among friends.

"He… he only said these things?"

"Mm. Sister seems to have understood some of it, but there's probably a lot she didn't get… I think he's really impressive. Even Li Pin bowed down to him. Grandfather, can we ask him to be my teacher?"

At the same time, in the Su residence, Ning Yi had long forgotten the nonsense he spoke earlier in the day. Now, he was sitting at ease in the pavilion with Su Tan'er, Chan'er, Juan'er, and Xing'er, peeling oranges. Of course, to say it was entirely leisurely wouldn't be entirely accurate. After finishing one orange, Su Tan'er wiped her mouth and stood up. "I'm full. You can take your time, my lord."

"Hey, no need to hurry."

Ning Yi spoke casually, which suited Su Tan'er's style perfectly. There were still plenty of oranges in the small bamboo basket on the table. Su Tan'er turned back with a slightly apologetic and helpless smile. "I still have things to do…"

"Do you need help?"

"No, you can enjoy your oranges, my lord."

Su Tan'er gave him a bright smile before turning to return to her room. She had indeed been busy lately, with floods approaching and the city gates soon to be closed. There was much to be done, including drafting contingency plans, secretly accumulating funds for major moves, and generally preparing for the coming challenges. Though it was tiring, she seemed quite spirited. It appeared that her royal merchant affairs had made some real progress.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly, just like life itself…