"What?" Zhu Biao’s jaw dropped in astonishment. It took him a long moment before he managed to say, "Let Ma Yu debate Mr. Song?"
Although his awe of Song Lian had dissipated that day, it did not diminish his recognition of the man’s scholarship. Song Lian was the foremost Confucian scholar of his time; one could even say he was the preeminent figure in the current academic world. Ma Yu might be remarkably gifted and possess a unique lineage, but compared to Song Lian... there was simply no comparison.
After a long while, Zhu Biao added, "Isn’t that a bit too much like bullying someone?"
Empress Ma wore the expression of an old fox as she replied, "That is exactly the point—we need to bully him."
She then explained, "The more learned a person is, the deeper their pride runs. You think his deep-seated prejudice against Great Ming and your father is solely because he was wrongfully imprisoned? No, that is actually a manifestation of his pride."
In her mind, while Ma Yu’s prejudice seemed aimed at Zhu Yuanzhang, he actually held the entire family in contempt. He likely viewed their humble origins as evidence that they lacked the capacity to govern, let alone grasp the philosophy of true emperorship. She did not voice this, as it was too hurtful and purely her own conjecture, but she was certain of one thing: Ma Yu was proud.
"The best way to deal with such a person is to find someone even more learned than he is and defeat him in the very arena where he excels. Only then will he be able to set aside his pride and serve us."
Zhu Biao nodded slightly. The method was indeed sound, but... "Won't it be too much of a blow? Might it leave him utterly demoralized?" After all, Ma Yu was a talent he had discovered himself, and he felt a certain personal attachment.
Empress Ma shot him a glance and said indifferently, "If he cannot even weather this, he is not worthy of our attention."
Zhu Biao opened his mouth, but in the end, he could find no words to object. He knew his mother was right. It was cruel, but that was reality. Seeing that her son was not swayed by sentiment, Empress Ma was very satisfied.
"However, your concerns have merit. Forcing him to face Song Lian so abruptly would be too harsh. Give him a heads-up so he can prepare himself."
Zhu Biao quickly said, "I will go see him to avoid any unnecessary misunderstandings."
Empress Ma did not object. "Very well. Come up with a suitable excuse so as not to arouse suspicion. I will speak with Song Lian myself; let them meet in a few days."
A reason was easy to find. The next morning, as Empress Ma was discussing state affairs with Li Shanchang, Liu Bowen, and others, an attendant hurried in to report that the Second Prince had caught a cold in prison.
Empress Ma and Zhu Biao both wore expressions of concern. Li Shanchang, Liu Bowen, and the others, each as cunning as the next, immediately stepped forward with advice. They suggested that since the Second Prince had been in prison for so many days, he surely had repented, and given his illness, it was time to bring him out. They assumed that because Empress Ma was so doting, she would seize this chance to let Zhu Shuang go.
They were wrong.
"Do not try to persuade me further. This time, I am determined to make him suffer a bit so he learns his lesson. As for his illness... send an imperial physician to treat him, so he doesn't think I, his mother, am mistreating him."
The fact that she used the word "mistreating" showed that her anger had not yet subsided. Though Li Shanchang and the others found this odd—it was unlike her—they did not suspect a ruse. They knew only too well what Zhu Shuang had done; they knew even more than Zhu Yuanzhang did. He deserved a good lesson, or he would inevitably become a scourge to Great Ming.
Zhu Biao stepped in at the perfect moment, expressing a desire to visit his brother in prison. Though Empress Ma verbally chided him for it, her actions were honest as she gave her consent.
And so, Zhu Biao headed to the Yingtian Prefecture Prison, openly accompanied by an imperial physician. He even brought a jar of wine. Though he didn’t know if Ma Yu drank, he figured that once the man learned he was to face Song Lian, he would surely be in need of a drink.
The story about Zhu Shuang’s illness was, of course, a lie; the purpose was simply to create an opportunity for Zhu Biao to visit the prison. When they arrived at the cell, they were met with a perfectly healthy and energetic Zhu Shuang.
Zhu Biao wore an appropriately helpless expression. The imperial physician realized immediately that the Second Prince had faked an illness to fool the Empress. He had seen this sort of thing many times and knew what to do: in the palace, if one wanted to stay safe, one had to know how to play the fool. As for Ma Yu, the physician ignored him entirely—likely just another prisoner of similar age whom the bored Prince had found to amuse himself. Nothing worth noting.
Zhu Biao, intent on "preserving" his brother’s dignity, pretended to be pleased. "It seems Second Brother’s cold has improved quite a bit, but we must not be careless. Physician Wu, please examine him and write a prescription."
Physician Wu understood immediately. After a perfunctory examination, he declared, "The Second Prince indeed had a mild cold, but thanks to the grace of heaven, he has recovered. To be safe, however, I shall prescribe some medicine to consolidate his health."
Zhu Biao looked at him as if to say *you are a sensible man*. "Then I leave it to you to write the prescription."
Physician Wu wrote out a tonic, then tactfully took his leave. Once he was gone, Zhu Shuang curled his lip. "Was all that trouble really necessary?"
Zhu Biao sighed helplessly. "If I didn't have a valid excuse to visit the prison frequently, I would be putting Brother Ma in danger. I have to be careful."
Ma Yu felt a flicker of gratitude and cupped his hands. "I am grateful for Brother Li's consideration."
Zhu Biao felt a twinge of shame. He changed the subject by reaching for the wine. "Think nothing of it... I brought a bottle of fine wine. I’m not sure if Brother Ma enjoys it."
Ma Yu was not much of a drinker, but one doesn't strike a smiling face. He took the bottle and said, "A small drink can lift the spirits. Many thanks for your kindness, Brother Li."
As he spoke, he held it under his nose to catch the scent. He froze. This smell... He quickly pulled the cork, and a rich, fragrant aroma wafted out. Inhaling this scent—at once familiar and strange—Ma Yu felt an urge to weep.
Zhu Biao noticed the anomaly. "Brother Ma, what is...?"
Ma Yu calmed himself and carefully set the bottle down. "This wine must have been produced in Luzhou, Sichuan."
Zhu Biao was surprised. "This wine was offered by Ming Sheng, the pseudo-emperor of the Daxia Regime who holds Sichuan. Whether it is from Luzhou, I do not know. How did Brother Ma guess?"
Ma Yu sighed. "I am all too familiar with this scent. I lived there for over half a year, and this smell accompanied me day and night. Even after several years and being separated by such a distance, I can still recognize it."
He was speaking of his previous life. Due to certain circumstances, he had lived in Gulin County, Luzhou, Sichuan, for over half a year. The place he stayed was right next to a distillery, and the scent of the mash was everywhere. He hadn't been used to it at first, but over time he grew accustomed to it, and eventually, he even found it pleasant. He had once used a friend's connection to tour the production floor, which gave him a passive understanding of the local liquor culture. He never expected to encounter it again after crossing over. While the scent was slightly different, it was fundamentally the same.
Seeing something familiar inevitably stirred his emotions. However, he didn't realize that his words had led Zhu Biao straight into a trap. Zhu Biao did not doubt him for a second. Expressions and actions could be faked, but the familiarity with the wine could not. He only knew one person who could identify a wine just by its scent—his father-in-law, Chang Yuchun—and even he could only identify the two or three varieties he drank regularly.
Ma Yu’s ability to pinpoint the origin of the wine based solely on the scent showed he was intimately familiar with it. Even if he wasn't from Luzhou, he had certainly lived there. Zhu Biao was elated to finally obtain a clue about the man’s background.
Zhu Shuang was also surprised, and even more speechless. *Good heavens, I’ve been trying to pry his background out of him for ages with no success, and here we are, finding a clue through a bottle of wine.*
Zhu Biao suppressed his excitement and said nonchalantly, "Oh? Brother Ma is about my age, yet you’ve been to Sichuan? You must have accompanied your elders there, I suppose? I envy you—being able to roam the mountains and rivers, unlike me, trapped in this corner of the world."
Ma Yu had regained his composure and realized the other man was fishing for information. He didn't hedge. "Regrettably, I have no family left in this world, which is why the scent of this wine made me lose my composure. Please excuse me, Brother Li."
*What? No family left?* Zhu Biao was stunned for a moment before he understood. If his family were still alive, how could he have become a beggar? The chaos of the late Yuan dynasty had lasted for decades; his family must have suffered, and his elders likely took him to Sichuan to escape the turmoil. Why they returned to the Central Plains, he didn't know—perhaps another catastrophe occurred, leaving him alone and destitute. Then, following the refugees south, he was wrongfully accused by corrupt officials and sentenced to death.
Piecing together the tragedy, Zhu Biao felt a wave of sympathy for Ma Yu, and he understood his earlier hostility even better. *Alas, another poor soul caught in the chaotic times.*
Though the trail of information had gone cold, Zhu Biao was not disappointed. At least he now understood part of Ma Yu’s life trajectory—he hadn't simply appeared out of thin air. Once the Daxia Regime was pacified, he could send people to investigate Luzhou; perhaps they would find more clues. Out of sympathy, he didn't press him on what happened afterward. Why rub salt in someone's wounds?
After some more casual talk, Zhu Biao shifted the topic to the works of Guan Zhong and Xunzi. He mentioned that he had read their works thoroughly since their last talk and had gained a great deal, then posed a few questions—for instance, how to interpret Xunzi’s take on virtue.
Ma Yu pondered for a moment. "Whether human nature is inherently good or evil is important to scholars; it is the starting point and foundation of their thought. But for a ruler, it is of little practical significance. You should focus on the methods of governance proposed by scholars in response to these two philosophies. Take Xunzi’s view on virtue: he believed virtue is not innate. We believe in virtue and promote it not because it is born within us, but because we know that if we want to survive and live well, we must practice virtue. That is precisely what distinguishes us from beasts."
Zhu Biao looked thoughtful. "Then why do you insist that we must base ourselves on the Confucian philosophy that nature is inherently good? If we are to use Xunzi’s 'method,' wouldn't it be more convenient to adopt his view that nature is inherently evil as well?"
*Good grief,* Ma Yu thought, *how am I supposed to answer that?* He pondered for a moment before an idea struck him. "It’s a form of psychological suggestion." He explained the concept to Zhu Biao before continuing, "If we tell the world that human nature is inherently evil, the more they hear it, the more they will be influenced by it. If I am born evil, then committing evil is merely following my nature, an act of instinct. In that way, morality and customs will degenerate. If we emphasize that nature is inherently good, people will be subtly inclined to cultivate virtue."
Zhu Biao clapped his hands in excitement. "Brother Ma’s words are truly extraordinary! This idea of 'psychological suggestion' is something I have never heard of, yet it is deeply thought-provoking."
Zhu Shuang, off to the side, also looked pensive. Ma Yu let out a breath of relief. *Finally, that’s settled.* Fearing more questions, he quickly added, "Furthermore, for two thousand years, the world has revered Confucius and Mencius, believing that human nature is inherently good. It is already a consensus. You are destined for a career in officialdom; why go against the grain and look for trouble? Besides, the standards set by Confucius and Mencius are truly in line with the image of a Great World of Benevolent Governance."
Zhu Biao nodded repeatedly. "Indeed, indeed! Thank you for your guidance, Brother Ma; you have truly opened my eyes."
Ma Yu finally felt his heart settle. *Thank goodness that’s over.* He decided he would avoid discussing such technical topics in the future.
However, just then, Zhu Biao looked ashamed. "Brother Ma, I have a presumptuous request, and I hope you will not be offended."
Ma Yu’s heart sank again. *This Li Wen is truly annoying today.* "If Brother Li has something to say, just say it. No need to stand on ceremony."
Zhu Biao hesitated before saying, "My teacher discovered me reading the works of Guan Zhong and Xunzi. He was very angry, but he was also shocked by your theory of 'Fundamental Governance, Practical Application.' He wants to discuss this matter with you in person."
Before Ma Yu could respond, Zhu Shuang cried out, "What? Old man Song wants to debate Ma Yu?"
Zhu Biao looked even more ashamed, his gaze shifting away. After the confirmation, Zhu Shuang’s face was filled with shock. He looked at Zhu Biao, then at Ma Yu, incredulously. Then, as if realizing something, a look of schadenfreude appeared on his face. He sat back and prepared to watch the show.
Ma Yu felt utterly bewildered. *Your teacher wants to debate me?* He wasn’t stupid. Li Wen’s teacher must be a Confucian scholar, and quite possibly a famous one at that. Hearing that someone favored the philosophy of Confucius and Mencius as a base but used Guan Zhong and Xunzi for application would surely infuriate him. Ever since the Song Dynasty, Confucianism had become essentially religious. Xunzi’s theory of inherent evil, being contrary to Confucius and Mencius, was viewed as heresy. While Chinese culture didn't exactly have a tradition of burning heretics, suppression was certainly the norm.
The things he had told Li Wen were, in the eyes of a traditionalist, heresy. There was no way the man would have a pleasant attitude. He wasn't looking for a discussion; he was coming to hold him accountable. This Li Wen was utterly unreliable. As for meeting his teacher? That was just asking for humiliation. Ma Yu wasn't about to agree to that.
"Brother Li," Ma Yu said bluntly, "let us hear no more of this. I only learned a few superficial things from my elders; how could I dare to pollute your teacher’s ears?"
Zhu Biao smiled bitterly. "Brother Ma, it is not that I wish to force you; it is that I cannot refuse him."
Ma Yu frowned. "Why? With your status, can you not refuse him?"
Zhu Biao sighed helplessly. "His identity is... rather special."
Ma Yu sensed something amiss. "What is his status?"
Zhu Shuang, from the side, said teasingly, "My big brother’s teacher is named Song Lian. You must have heard that name, right?"
"What?" Ma Yu jumped up from the floor. "Song Lian?"
Unbidden, an image surfaced in his mind: the Nine-Headed Insect telling Benbo'erba, "Go and get rid of the Tang Monk and his disciples."