Chapter Fifty-One: Eight to One

“Yes.” Su Lu answered calmly, explaining the contents of his notes.

He possessed a keen memory and a talent for summarization. Despite the wealth of material covered in the morning’s lessons, nothing had posed much difficulty, so he was able to refer to his notes and recount the main points with considerable accuracy.

“It seems you truly listened.” Mr. Zhang’s expression softened as he finished listening. Even the most gifted student, already well-versed in the material, could not possibly reproduce the lecture’s content verbatim without attentive listening.

For a lagging student like Su Lu, who was not known for paying close attention in class, it seemed impossible to remember so much.

The anger on Mr. Zhang’s face faded, and he actually clasped his hands and bowed to Su Lu, saying, “I have wronged you.”

“Sir, you honor me too much,” Su Lu hurriedly stepped aside, his face full of apprehension.

“Most people consider it shameful to admit fault to a younger person, but I find it shameful not to do so.” Mr. Zhang spoke with composure. “A mistake is a mistake, and it does not change depending on whom it concerns.”

“Your student has learned much,” Su Lu replied, bowing deeply, experiencing for the first time what it meant to witness the ‘virtue of a gentleman’.

Mr. Zhang, still curious, asked, “Are these truly your class notes? What do these signs mean?”

“Yes,” Su Lu nodded, and began to explain, “For example, the ‘arrow’ stands for ‘because’ or ‘therefore’. The ellipsis indicates the passage comes from the original ‘Commentaries’, so I only wrote the first character and omitted the rest. As for the square box, it marks the places I couldn’t keep up and intend to ask about after class.”

“There are also some abbreviations only I recognize,” Su Lu pointed to the characters ‘san ge li’, explaining, “This means ‘Three Principles’.” Then he pointed to ‘ru kou qi’, saying, “This means ‘Entrance Qi’.”

These symbols were not Katakana, but the precursor to Chinese Pinyin—‘Chinese Phonetic Symbols’. They had been used on the mainland until 1958, and their use had continued in Taiwan ever since.

Due to his age, most of the computer games he played in middle school were from Taiwan, and whenever Chinese input was required, he had to use these symbols, which caused him much trouble.

Fortunately, the ‘New Chinese Dictionary’ of that time included a comparison table between Pinyin and the phonetic symbols, so after frequent reference, Su Lu memorized the symbols. In fact, it wasn’t so hard; as long as one treated them as another form of Pinyin and matched them up, it was easy.

Su Lu, quiet but thoughtful, had considered upgrading the Chinese phonetic system when he first learned the ‘Fanqie’ method. But since Ming scholars did not learn English, how could he use foreign letters? Thus, he adopted these phonetic symbols.

“You really recognize these symbols?” Mr. Zhang began to believe. He flipped through a few pages of notes, pointing to ‘dai sheng ren li yan’, and asked, “What does this mean?”

“To set forth words on behalf of the sages,” Su Lu answered after a glance.

“And what about this?” Mr. Zhang pointed to ‘kou qi ji yi li, yi li ji kou qi’, and guessed, “Is it ‘Speech is principle, principle is speech’?”

“Sir, you are amazing, you grasp it at once!” Su Lu quickly offered a compliment.

“It’s nothing special, I recognize at least the character for ‘mouth’.” Mr. Zhang laughed, then asked, “Now, if I recite something you haven’t yet recorded, could you note it down for me on the spot?”

Su Lu immediately took out his pen from the case, moistened the tip, and said, “Please, sir.”

“The essentials are threefold: to manifest one’s innate virtue, to cherish the people of the world, and to pursue the utmost goodness in matters.” Mr. Zhang dictated.

Su Lu wrote: “qi yao san duan, ming ji zhi ming de, qin tian xia zhi min, zhi shi li zhi ji shan.”

“I think I understand now. You use these simplified symbols to substitute for complex strokes. Aren’t you afraid of mixing things up?” Zhang Yanqiu asked, intrigued.

“That’s why I leave simple characters as anchors,” Su Lu replied. “But if the sentence is too long, and there are too few simple characters, to prevent confusion, I substitute complex characters with simple ones.”

“Ji shan, utmost goodness…” Mr. Zhang nodded and praised, “This method is indeed simple.”

“Of course, to be safe, when time permits after class, it’s best to quickly convert them back to regular script,” Su Lu said softly.

“This approach is quite clever.” Mr. Zhang, pragmatic and sharp, continued, “These symbols must be something like the Song dynasty’s ‘Thirty-Six Letters’?”

“They should be,” Su Lu nodded. Though he’d never seen the ‘Thirty-Six Letters’, the descriptive power of Chinese characters suggested they were much like his method.

“But your symbols seem simpler than the ‘Thirty-Six Letters’.” Mr. Zhang, true to his teacher’s nature, asked, “If you have time, would you organize your phonetic symbols for me to review?”

“As you wish,” Su Lu replied gravely. He was curious to see whether Ming scholars could accept phonetic symbols.

“It’s getting late, go eat now,” Mr. Zhang finally dismissed him. “You seem quite clever. Study diligently, ask questions, focus your energy on the right path, and strive to remain here.”

“Yes,” Su Lu replied, bowing once more.

~~

After Mr. Zhang left the hall, Su Lu followed with his bag of provisions.

Su Dan appeared suddenly from his hiding spot, asking with concern, “Brother, did you get punished?”

“No,” Su Lu shook his head. “Have you eaten?”

“No, I was waiting for you,” Su Dan replied. “Come on, I found a good spot.”

He led Su Lu to the little garden at the eastern end of the study. Taiping Academy was unmistakably Su-style architecture, complete with landscape design. In the open space between buildings stood a pavilion and peach trees.

Spring comes early in the southwest; the peach blossoms were already budding, their beauty accentuated by the white walls.

“Isn’t this much nicer than eating in the dining hall? We can enjoy the scenery and talk freely.” Su Dan sat in the pavilion, smiled, set down his provisions, and opened his jar of pickled beans and fish, “Try my mother’s pickled black beans and wheat fish. I’ve loved these since I was little.”

‘Wheat fish’ wasn’t wheat at all, but a small river fish commonly found in the area. They weren’t worth catching, formed noisy schools, and were hated by anglers.

But after Su Dan’s mother’s preparation, they looked much more appetizing. Su Lu tried a small fish, bones and all, and found it infused with the flavor of black beans—perfect for eating with rice.

He praised her handiwork, and brought out his aunt’s minced pork with preserved vegetables to share with Su Dan.

“What did the teacher want you for?” Su Dan asked as they ate.

“I’m ranked last, so the teacher gave me a few admonitions,” Su Lu laughed. “He’s a good teacher, just talks a bit much.”

“All teachers are like that,” Su Dan thought of his own father, then snorted, “If they knew you got into the academy after only three months, who would dare look down on you?”

“A true hero doesn’t dwell on past glory,” Su Lu replied indifferently. “The most convincing thing is always the next exam.”

The exam had been last year in the twelfth month, so ‘last year’ was accurate.

“We might do even worse in the next one…” Su Dan pulled a face. “Didn’t you notice the teacher’s focus on how to write essays? He assumes everyone has already learned how to write opening essays.”

“Hmm,” Su Lu nodded. “That’s why we must pay close attention in this afternoon’s composition class.”

“I just hope I can keep up.” Su Dan sighed. “I was the best student in our clan school by far, but here, I’m at the bottom.”

“We’ve just missed a few lessons. If we catch up quickly, we can definitely pull ahead!” Su Lu encouraged him.

“But the teacher goes so fast, I can’t keep up at all,” Su Dan lamented. “This morning I tried to take notes, but my hand couldn’t keep up, and it distracted me from listening, so I gave up.”

“I’ll teach you how to use mind maps for note-taking,” Su Lu offered. “The teacher has already approved this method.”

“Really? That’s great!” Su Dan perked up immediately. His cousin had always received divine guidance in learning methods, and whatever he taught was sure to be effective.

Su Dan quickly finished his buckwheat cake, patted his chest, and said with eager anticipation, “Brother, please teach me.”

~~

That afternoon’s composition class was again taught by Mr. Zhang.

“Composition, also called ‘zhiyi’, ‘jingyi’, ‘shiwen’, ‘Four Books Essay’, ‘Eight Comparison’, ‘Eight-Part Essay’, is the most important form of writing for selecting officials in our dynasty. The most crucial is the Eight-Part Essay. All of you have come to this academy to master this skill.” Zhang Yanqiu sat behind the lectern, and, in contrast to the morning’s pace, spoke slowly and with emphasis:

“Although most of you began writing Eight-Part Essays after the ‘Four Books’ were taught in elementary school, the world of writing is vast and varied. Now that you have entered my academy, you must forget your previous learning and begin anew with composition.”

He paused and stressed, “From now on, my words are the standard. Do not say, ‘My former teacher taught it this way.’ If you trust him so much, why have you come to study here? Have you noted this?”

“Yes, we remember,” responded Ma, the head of the study, leading the others in a loud reply.

“Good,” Mr. Zhang nodded, and continued, “Actually, ‘jingyi’ and ‘Four Books Essays’ are the proper names for composition. Why, then, is it called the Eight-Part Essay?”

“Because the whole essay consists of ‘opening two parts, middle two, latter two, and conclusion two’, making eight in total. This structure is its defining feature, hence it’s called the Eight-Part Essay.”

“Yet in practice, it’s not rigid. Eight parts are the standard, but six parts are also acceptable. If needed, ten or even twelve parts are allowed. The structure depends on the situation, and must never be mechanical.”

“For years, people have denounced the Eight-Part Essay, saying its format is rigid, that it only allows for discussion of the sages, not personal expression, and that its rules are too strict to display true talent.” Mr. Zhang raised his voice:

“Remember, whenever someone says such things, immediately cut ties with them, for associating with fools will make you foolish too!”

The students chuckled softly, suspecting Mr. Zhang was defending the Eight-Part Essay against the academy’s head.

But Zhang Yanqiu grew solemn. “I say this not to defend our literary tradition, but because such criticisms are one-sided and ignore reality!”

“The Eight-Part Essay is an ‘official examination essay’ used for selecting officials. Since it’s for exams, there must be uniform standards to ensure fairness. After ten years of hard study, would you rather be judged on a subjective essay, or on an Eight-Part Essay with clear criteria for excellence?”

“Anyone who isn’t a fool would prefer a clear victory and accept defeat with conviction. In this, the court and every scholar are aligned, so these ‘official essays’ must follow a fixed format, creating a literary style akin to regulated verse. This is the Eight-Part Essay!”

“It can elucidate the essence of the Four Books and Five Classics, and measure the depth of a scholar’s knowledge. It is the fairest, most distinguishing form of writing.” Mr. Zhang spoke with vigor:

“Because an outstanding Eight-Part Essay must adhere to structure, have elegant parallelism, seamless transitions, correct prosody, rigorous argumentation, clear layers, prominent themes, profound ideas, and majestic rhetoric! Only true masters can create wonders in such a confined space, maneuvering within a snail shell!”

“To write such essays, one must have the Four Books and Five Classics, as well as the Commentaries, memorized thoroughly—that is just the beginning. One must also deeply comprehend the text, master prosody and rhyme schemes, be well-versed in history, and know the world’s affairs.”

Finally, Mr. Zhang declared forcefully, “At least in my view, among all genres past and present, the Eight-Part Essay ranks first, followed only by regulated verse!”