Empress Ma was also bewildered, unable to grasp why Ma Yu had suddenly begun talking about the evolution of written characters.
Just as she was pondering this, she heard a gasp of astonishment from Song Lian. Although she still did not understand why a different font style for a single character was worthy of such a reaction, she could see that Ma Yu had successfully seized control of Song Lian’s emotions. This surprised her greatly. Song Lian’s composure was legendary; even when arguing with Li Shanchang over conflicting ideologies, he had never once lost his poise. Yet here he was, being completely handled by a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old boy in the span of three questions.
Reflecting on how Ma Yu had answered those three questions, she slowly began to piece it together. He had been rambling on, complicating simple questions only to deliver a striking, illuminating answer. This boy did not play by the rules. She felt both delighted and speechless: delighted because Ma Yu was clearly a talent, but speechless because her plans to suppress him were likely doomed to fail.
Watching the agitated Song Lian, Ma Yu gave himself a mental pat on the back. Success. He owed a debt of gratitude to the archaeologists of his past life and to the Guodian Chu Slips.
Some might ask: isn't it just a different way of writing a character? Is that really worth such shock? To most people, it made no difference, but to a small circle of scholars, the impact was profound. Pictographic characters had a specific trait: in their earliest form, most characters represented specific meanings directly. Simply put, the shape of the character was its meaning. However, these early pictographs were overly complex and inconvenient to write. Over generations of transmission, they were simplified into the forms we know today. In this evolutionary process, many character shapes became completely different from their origins.
Of course, simplification was not necessarily a bad thing. It reduced the number of strokes, made writing easier, and lowered the threshold for the spread of knowledge. Overall, this was a good thing and an inevitable part of historical development. The problem was that in the process of evolution, many characters lost their original intent. It was like the phrase "ji ming gou dao" (cock-crowing and dog-snatching); it started as a compliment but later evolved into a derogatory term. For some words, a change in meaning mattered little, but for others, the impact was massive.
Take the character "Ren" (benevolence). Confucius’s core philosophy was "Ren," and the word appeared 109 times in the Analects. But what exactly was "Ren"? The problem was that Confucius never provided a precise definition. Furthermore, when different people asked him what "Ren" was, he gave different answers. For example, when Zizhang asked Confucius about it, the reply was: "To be able to practice five things in the world is benevolence: respect, tolerance, trustworthiness, diligence, and kindness." When Yan Yuan asked, the answer was: "To subdue one's self and return to propriety is benevolence." Everyone knew Confucius practiced "teaching according to the student’s aptitude," but this resulted in the Analects lacking a unified, definitive explanation for "Ren." Later, Mencius concretized "Ren" as "benevolent love," demanding that monarchs love their people. However, scholars knew that Mencius’s "benevolent love" was only a part of Confucius’s "Ren," not the whole.
So, what exactly was Confucius’s "Ren"? Through the dynasties, people had tried to explain it. Looking back at the character "Ren," it was composed of "person" and "two." The implication was clear: it meant the way people interact with one another. This had been the mainstream interpretation for a millennium. But now, if the character’s form was actually "top body, bottom heart," then its meaning was no longer about interaction, but rather an internal state—a state of being, or what we commonly call a "realm." "Ren" became an individual’s internal cultivation, a spiritual state, unrelated to others. This explained why Confucius gave different answers to different people; each person’s character and perception of the world were different, and so were their "realms." Confucius was providing answers based on each person’s current state, offering a targeted path for their personal elevation.
If this hypothesis were true, it meant previous Confucian interpretations of "Ren" were skewed. For a scholar of Song Lian’s stature, the impact was immeasurable. This was one of the trump cards Ma Yu had prepared, and Song Lian’s reaction confirmed it had worked.
Facing the excited scholar, Ma Yu affirmed, "This is a matter of great importance; I would not dare speak of it in jest."
Song Lian pressed him, "Where are the bronzes? Where are your elders? Take me to see them at once!"
Seeing his teacher lose all composure, Zhu Biao was startled and quickly intervened: "Master Song, please calm down. This is the Yingtian Prefecture Prison. Besides, Ma’s elders... have all passed away."
Ma Yu donned a look of timely sorrow: "When the nest is overturned, no egg remains intact. The research findings of my elders, along with those ritual vessels, were lost in the fires of war."
Song Lian looked as if he had lost his own kin, muttering, "How could this be... how could this be..."
Feeling a pang of guilt—he didn't want to drive the old man insane—Ma Yu hurriedly added, "Master Qianxi, there is no need for such despair. There is still a chance for recovery."
Song Lian’s eyes suddenly lit up: "You know the whereabouts of the bronzes?"
Ma Yu shook his head: "I do not know the location of the bronzes themselves, but before the war broke out, my elders discovered clues regarding what appeared to be Yin-Shang script."
"What?" Not only Song Lian but even Zhu Biao cried out in shock. Nearby, Empress Ma nearly gasped aloud.
*Yin-Shang script? Did I hear that correctly? How is that possible?* The oldest extant books were the *I Ching*, said to be written by King Wen of Zhou. Regardless of the truth of the legend, it meant that the oldest texts we could see dated back no further than the Western Zhou. What were books like before the Western Zhou? No one knew. What did the script look like? No one knew. People’s understanding of history before the Western Zhou came entirely from books written after it. If what Ma Yu said was true, and his elders had discovered Yin-Shang script, the significance for the newborn Great Ming was monumental. It was no less important than finding the Imperial Seal.
*Why did the script disappear for thousands of years, only to reappear now, right after the founding of the Great Ming? What is the Mandate of Heaven? This is it.*
*What? You say his elders discovered it during the Yuan Dynasty? Guards, drag them out and execute their three clans! Is there anyone else who says it was discovered during the Yuan?* In any case, if the Yin-Shang script was real, it must—and could only—have been discovered after the establishment of the Great Ming.
She could no longer sit still. She paced back and forth, desperate to rush to the cell and demand the truth. Zhu Shuang, on the other hand, was completely baffled. *What is this all about? It’s just Yin-Shang script. It’s one thing for that old man Song Lian to be excited, but Mother, why are you so agitated? Could our ancestors trace back to the Yin-Shang period?*
On the other side, Zhu Biao, having regained his senses, asked excitedly, "Brother Ma, is this true?"
Ma Yu replied solemnly, "It is. Based on the clues left by my elders, there is a very high probability that we can track them down."
Song Lian, disregarding all etiquette, shoved Zhu Biao aside and pressed: "What clues?"
Watching Li Wen stumble and nearly fall, Ma Yu almost laughed out loud, coughing to hide his amusement: "My elders discovered that those bronzes were likely ritual vessels used for Yin-Shang sacrifices. From that, he recalled a passage in the *Book of Rites*: 'When sacrificial garments are worn out, they are burned; when ritual vessels are worn out, they are buried; when tortoise shells and milfoil stalks are worn out, they are buried; when sacrificial animals die, they are buried.'"
Zhu Biao did not blame Song Lian for his rudeness; he understood the excitement perfectly. He, too, was eager for an answer. Yet, hearing the quote from the *Book of Rites*, he grew confused. "What does that have to do with Yin-Shang script?"
Song Lian, being more learned, immediately guessed the truth and said excitedly, "Your elders found the place where the Yin-Shang buried their ritual vessels?"
Ma Yu mentally praised his cleverness and nodded: "If the records in the *Book of Rites* are correct, it means the ancients buried large quantities of ritual vessels underground. Items like tortoise shells and bronzes can remain buried for a millennium without decaying. Even if the passage of time caused most of them to be lost, a small portion must surely remain. Once this discovery is made, the rest is just a matter of figuring out where they were buried."
Song Lian’s breathing grew heavy: "How does one find it?"
Zhu Biao stared intently at Ma Yu, fearing he would say he didn't know. Empress Ma, in the next room, pricked up her ears, not wanting to miss a single word. Only Zhu Shuang felt annoyed—*this kid is dragging it out on purpose, just to whet our appetites. I really want to punch him.*
Ma Yu, satisfied with the effect, paused until their anticipation reached its peak: "The great affairs of a state are sacrifice and war. Sacrificing to Heaven was a momentous activity, usually held near the capital. My elders combed through historical records to determine the location of the capitals of the Xia and Shang dynasties."
Zhu Biao could not help but interject, "But historical records only mention a general direction for those capitals. In such a vast area, how could your elders find a burial site? You can't just dig three feet into the entire earth, can you?"
Song Lian nodded in agreement. If they hired people to dig that deep, such a massive commotion would be impossible to keep quiet.
Ma Yu mentally gave Zhu Biao a thumbs up. *Perfect follow-up question.* "That is why my elders took an unconventional path, starting from somewhere else."
Zhu Biao, now playing the perfect straight man, asked, "Oh, where?"
Ma Yu said, "Dragon bones."
Zhu Biao puzzled, "Dragon bones?"
Ma Yu explained, "Dragon bones are a medicinal ingredient made from the skeletons of large animals buried underground. The longer they have been buried, the better their medicinal efficacy."
At this point, Song Lian understood perfectly. When they sacrificed to Heaven, they would carve divination texts onto animal bones and bury them afterward. Those were precisely the "dragon bones" with the best efficacy. Apothecaries would buy these bones in bulk; if the common folk accidentally dug up ancient animal bones, they would likely sell them to the apothecaries.
Ma Yu continued, "My elders first determined the location of the Xia and Shang capitals, then walked through every pharmacy within that range. They examined every dragon bone in those shops, eventually discovering the oracle bones engraved with Yin-Shang script."
*Bang!* Song Lian slammed his hand on the table, ignoring the pain in his trembling palm: "Brilliant! To think of such a method. Your elder is truly the wisest man in the world; I am ashamed to compare myself to him."
Empress Ma was also filled with wonder. Ma Yu’s elder was truly brilliant. He had relied on pure imagination, finding a lead from nothing, and successfully locating the Yin-Shang ritual vessels. It was a pity he had not survived the chaos of war; the Great Ming had lost a great talent. A pity, a great pity.
She then grew excited. Even if the vessels found by Ma Yu’s elder were lost, the *method* remained. The Great Ming could follow the same clues and find a new batch. Thinking of this, she could hardly wait to end this conversation and send people to search. The Great Ming needed these things badly. Compared to this, whether he was impersonating a royal relative or arguing about Confucianism mattered not at all.
In the next room, Song Lian pressed, "Did your elder find the place where the vessels were buried?"
Ma Yu shook his head: "No. My elders had just identified the source of that batch of dragon bones and were about to search for the site when the chaotic times arrived. He believed that in such times, it was difficult enough to protect one’s own life, let alone a cache of ritual vessels. If the treasures left by the ancients were destroyed in his hands, how could he face the ancestors in the afterlife? Better to let them remain hidden beneath the earth, waiting for an era of enlightened rule before bringing them to light."
Song Lian was filled with reverence: "Your elder was a man of great nobility."
Could he have resisted the urge to dig them up if it were him? He didn't know. The temptation of Yin-Shang script was too great. And more importantly, the person who first discovered them would surely be immortalized in history. To forgo that was to forgo a place in the history books. That Ma Yu’s elder could resist that filled him with admiration.
Empress Ma, listening from the next room, also felt a surge of respect. That elder was truly a virtuous man. It was at this moment that she made her final decision. Ma Yu must be pardoned. If Chongba disagreed, she would take the children to Fengyang to guard the ancestral tombs.
Zhu Biao asked excitedly, "Did that predecessor tell you the burial site of the dragon bones and ritual vessels?"
Ma Yu shook his head: "No. He feared some unworthy descendant might use the secret to trade for money, so he did not leave the final clues. He only left the method for tracking the oracle bones, so that when an era of enlightened rule arrived, if my family line had not yet been extinguished, we could search again. If my family had unfortunately perished, it would have to wait for the destiny of others."
Song Lian and Empress Ma were both heavy-hearted. *Chaotic times... how many innocent lives were lost?*
Zhu Biao didn't have so many sentimental reflections, saying happily, "The unification of the Great Ming is just around the corner. Brother Ma, that you are still alive... it shows that Heaven never shuts off every path."
Ma Yu smiled: "Why do you think I chose to share this secret? Although I do not like the... Great Ming and the current Emperor, he is, after all, of the Han people. As a Han Emperor, I imagine he would not dare destroy the treasures left by our ancestors. And as I am a man facing death, I cannot take these secrets with me to the grave. Though the ancient ritual vessels will surely be discovered one day, there is no telling how many might be inadvertently destroyed in the process."
This was why he chose to reveal the secret of the oracle bone script. In his past life, it wasn't until the late Qing Dynasty that people discovered the oracle bones on dragon bones. Between that time, countless treasures were destroyed by accident—one of the greatest cultural losses in Chinese history. If Li Wen and Song Lian could learn of the secret early, perhaps they could begin excavations and studies sooner, saving more from loss. His traversal would not have been in vain.
Ma Yu continued: "Telling you this secret before I die can be considered my family’s final contribution to the Chinese people. After I die, I can hold my head high when facing our ancestors."
Zhu Biao, in his excitement, nearly shouted that he was the Crown Prince and that his mother had already decided to pardon him. Fortunately, his reason returned in time, telling him it was not the time to reveal his identity. The words changed to: "Rest assured, I will find a way to save you. Please, you must believe me."
Song Lian also said solemnly, "If His Majesty insists on your death, this old man will stop him, even at the cost of my life."
Ma Yu was deeply moved. To have two such friends was worth this journey of traversing time. But the more they cared, the less he could let them take such risks. "I appreciate the kindness, but the Emperor’s desire to kill is too strong. Begging for me will only implicate you. Why sacrifice more innocent lives? Besides, I miss my family in another world; perhaps I will see them after I die."
As he spoke, a look of loss and nostalgia appeared in his expression, devoid of any fear. This was not an act; having not seen his family from his past life for months, he truly missed them. He didn't know how they were doing now. Having been inexplicably transported to the Ming Dynasty, he hoped that if he were killed, he might have a chance to return.
As expected, his words successfully misled Empress Ma, Song Lian, and Zhu Biao. *To be so young and yet so indifferent to life and death... what has he experienced?* It filled them with sympathy and pity.