Chapter 12: A Soul’s Inquiry—How Many Words Can One Pound of Paper Hold?

Today, Chunyu Yue only learned that Fusu had arrived at the Bamboo Grove Residence and hurried over to meet him.

But upon arrival, he saw a child speaking confidently among the bamboo.

The more Yue looked, the more familiar the figure seemed...

"Young Master Seventeen?"

Chunyu Yue stepped closer and recognized the child.

How did that little tyrant end up here?

Moreover, judging by his manner and attitude toward Confucianism, there was no need to guess his stance.

Now that he had come to the Bamboo Grove Residence...

It was likely that his intentions were not benign.

Just as he was about to speak, Fusu stopped him with a glance.

Chunyu Yue held his tongue and quietly listened, eager to hear what Ying Ziji would say.

The situation had completely reversed.

At first, Lu Jia had intended to teach Ying Ziji Confucian doctrines.

Now, it was Ying Ziji who was single-handedly imparting his ideas to them.

"This does not mean that governance cannot be based on morality, but rather that the law should serve as the baseline of morality. That is why Qin law exists."

"And what Confucianism must do is continuously elevate moral standards, thereby advancing the law."

More than two thousand years later, even children know such words.

But at this moment, they brought an unprecedented shock.

Because these words perfectly combined the ideas of both Confucianism and Legalism.

The Confucian disciples felt their heads buzzing.

The dispute between Confucianism and Legalism began in the Warring States period.

The two schools were essentially at an impasse, unable to convince each other.

Disputes frequently erupted in the court over differing philosophies.

Yet now, from the mouth of an eight-year-old child, came a method to integrate the two.

It was like sunlight breaking through the clouds.

"Young Master Seventeen really never fails to stun with his words..." Fusu sighed softly beside him.

"Law? Morality? What is Ziji talking about? I don't understand..." Ying Yinman wiped the rosy corner of her mouth, puzzled.

"Just enjoy your persimmon," Fusu said, giving her a speechless look.

"Law is the baseline of morality? Does that mean Confucianism is merely a guide for Legalism?"

Lu Jia stood still, tugging at his beard, repeating the phrase over and over.

"Exactly so. Otherwise, why would Prime Minister Li Si be the one to formulate Qin law?" Ying Ziji smiled.

Li Si was a student of Xunzi; it was not wrong to say he came from Confucian origins.

It was precisely because of this that the Qin laws he devised were suitable for governance.

Culture and thought were never absolutely correct from any one school.

Only through collision, reflection, and fusion could progress be made.

In his view, Legalism was simply a method within Confucianism; the two shared a common origin.

Rituals defined the relationships between ruler and subject, father and son, loyalty and filial piety—was this not another form of law?

At this moment, Chunyu Yue could no longer contain himself.

"Young Master Seventeen’s words are thunderous and enlightening."

He stepped forward from behind, full of emotion, and bowed to Ying Ziji.

The gathered scholars: "???"

Young Master Seventeen?

Is he not currently the acting monarch?

Who exactly was Ying Ziji?

He was the little tyrant who had slain Zhao Gao at court, ransacked Zhao Gao’s family, sparing no one except women and children, wiping out three generations of Zhao Gao’s clan.

The very man they had just been discussing now stood before them.

Instantly, the atmosphere in the bamboo grove grew tense.

"Ladies and gentlemen, no need to worry. Young Master Seventeen means no harm; he merely desires this bamboo grove, which is why I brought him here," Fusu said with a wry smile, noticing their resentful gazes.

It was not that he intended to conceal the truth—it was that Young Master Seventeen forbade it.

"Young master... you truly are nothing like we imagined," Lu Jia said awkwardly.

"Greetings, Young Master Seventeen."

The Confucian scholars bowed, their eyes filled with surprise and wonder.

Ying Ziji spoke clearly and looked adorable.

This was a far cry from the little tyrant image they had imagined.

If it weren’t for Chunyu Yue’s words, they would have thought him a child from a scholarly family.

Could it be that the world had misunderstood Ying Ziji?

"By the way, what do you intend to do, young master?" Lu Jia asked, momentarily stunned.

"Well, it’s this bamboo grove," Ying Ziji said, pointing with his hand, adding, "I want to cut it all down and smash it. I’m going to make something very fun."

Something fun?

All eyes fixed on Ying Ziji, filled with confusion.

Because you want to make something fun, you’ll cut down all the bamboo?

"This... young master must be joking. This place has cost the Crown Prince much effort; how can it be cut down so casually?"

"If the bamboo grove is destroyed, where will we go to lecture?"

"Absolutely impossible. This would be like burning a zither and cooking a crane!"

...

Hearing Ying Ziji’s outrageous request, the Confucian scholars shook their heads again.

"Young master, do you want to make toys? Cutting down a few bamboo stalks for that is acceptable..."

Lu Jia put on a smile.

When dealing with a mischievous child, there are only two approaches: either a good scolding or gentle coaxing.

He decisively chose the latter.

"It’s not toys, but something important, so the entire bamboo grove is necessary," Ying Ziji shook his head firmly and said, "Do you know the greatest use of bamboo? It is to carry knowledge."

"Do you mean you intend to make bamboo slips from the bamboo?" Lu Jia was taken aback.

"Young master, although bamboo doesn’t grow in Xianyang, bamboo slips are supplied from various regions. If you need a large quantity, you can order the cities that provide them to produce more."

Chunyu Yue also misunderstood, thinking Ying Ziji wanted to record something urgently, hence the rush to fell bamboo.

"It’s not that. Bamboo slips are too troublesome. Three thousand jin of bamboo slips can only record so much knowledge."

Hearing this, Ying Ziji shook his head.

Not bamboo slips? Too troublesome?

Chunyu Yue was thoroughly confused about Ying Ziji’s intention now.

Still, he truthfully explained, "Three thousand jin of bamboo slips can record about seventy to eighty thousand characters; if written smaller, maybe a hundred thousand."

"If you cut down this whole bamboo grove, that’s roughly three thousand jin of bamboo..."

By comparison, one jin of bamboo slips only holds a few dozen characters.

And a jin of paper?

Ying Ziji said seriously:

"Minister Chunyu, do you know that from these three thousand jin of bamboo, I can produce a material that can record a hundred or even a thousand times more characters than bamboo slips, enough for all of Xianyang to use for years."

"Moreover, this material is as thin as cicada wings, even lighter than silk fabric. This material is called paper."

His incredible words plunged the bamboo grove into complete silence.

Everyone stood with mouths agape, speechless.

Paper?

What Ying Ziji described was beyond their comprehension.

Silk fabric was valuable enough to trade for grain; writing on it was an extravagant luxury. Many commoners went years without new clothes.

Something better than silk fabric, made from bamboo?

"What is paper? Could it really be so miraculous?"

"Impossible!"

...

"And the significance of paper does not end there," Ying Ziji continued.

"This material is cheap to produce, extremely thin and light, and very affordable—ordinary people can afford it."

"If this could be obtained, wouldn’t Confucianism’s ideal of educating the world become ten times easier?"

Fusu, Chunyu Yue, and Lu Jia all felt as if struck by lightning.

"Indeed, if such a thing really existed, there would be no need to carry hundreds of jin of bamboo slips."

"Ordinary people could buy it and read books!"

In their hearts, a storm had been stirred.

"Young master, can you truly produce paper?" Lu Jia took a deep breath.

If this paper really existed, cutting down the bamboo grove would be the least of their worries—they might as well cut off his head.

This would be a wondrous invention benefiting generations, a treasure for the nation and its people.

"Of course. We just need to find some craftsmen. It will take at most a month to produce paper."

"Since this is your place for teaching, I won’t take advantage of you. I’ll arrange another place for you, one that will satisfy everyone."

"Perfectly fitting to fulfill your ideal of educating all people."

Ying Ziji had already calculated everything.

After saying this, no one dared to stop them.

They allowed the Imperial Guards to enter and begin cutting down the bamboo.

The Confucian scholars swallowed hard.

The young master’s guards were intimidating. Had they opposed earlier, it would likely have ended not with bamboo being cut, but lives.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you seriously consider my proposal. The great Qin and its people need you."

"We... will lecture elsewhere, so we won’t trouble you, young master."

Neither Lu Jia nor Chunyu Yue immediately agreed to Ying Ziji’s proposal.

Once under the young master’s banner, it wasn’t easy to leave at will.

Ying Ziji was only eight years old; once the First Emperor returned from his eastern tour, the regency would end.

Furthermore, though his words made sense, his reputation outside was less than favorable.

Their yielding of the bamboo grove was not entirely due to belief in paper’s existence...

"Then, take care, everyone."

Ying Ziji did not press further and quietly boarded the carriage with Ying Yinman.

Hmph.

When the imperial examination system is established, scholars across the land will surely scramble to enter.

Let’s see then whether you agree or not.