Dawn of the Empire

Chapter 33: A Verbal Duel on Magic and Technology 1

Zuo Hengbai’s teacher was none other than Wei Xuezheng of Lingxi Road. This came as no surprise to Ou Yang; in Lingxi Road, there were very few people qualified to serve as a teacher to a member of the Zuo family who held the rank of Captain. However, it was somewhat surprising that Magistrate Wei did not ask him to wait at the Magistrate’s Office, but instead had the Captain change out of his military uniform and rush over to meet him. Wei Xuezheng was currently in the northernmost building of the Commander-in-Chief’s compound—a place that appeared to be Commander Zuo’s current residence—suggesting that the Education Commissioner had come to visit the Commander-in-Chief on some personal matter. To summon a subordinate shared by both parties to someone else’s home (Ou Yang was a military officer, but because he held the title of Xiu Cai, his household registration had been transferred to the Lingxi Road Education Commissioner’s office, placing him under dual jurisdiction)—what on earth was the Education Commissioner thinking? Unable to suppress his curiosity, Ou Yang made a few subtle inquiries along the way. Zuo Hengbai, however, readily revealed everything. This morning, the teacher of the Zuo family’s Sixteenth Young Miss (that is, Zuo Shuijing) returned from the mainland. She and Wei Xuezheng have been “old friends” for many years—one is a Bronze Medal Member of the Scientific Society, while the other is a Daoist Master recognized by the Magical Arts Society—and they were inside “thoroughly exchanging views” on whether the Sixteenth Young Miss should focus on her studies to become a scholar or learn esoteric arts to become a Grand Master. Perhaps because the Little Sixteenth’s legal guardian wasn’t in a position to make the decision, General Zuo himself hadn’t taken a stance on the matter. As a result, the two masters were arguing more and more fiercely, with the situation threatening to escalate into a full-blown declaration that “heretics deserve to die.” Lord Xuezheng summoned Ou Yang—likely because he knew Ou Yang held the Xiu Cai qualification and considered him one of his own, hoping to enlist his help. Ou Yang found the situation both laughable and exasperating. In his previous life, he had been a materialist and a staunch atheist. Since arriving in this world, he had encountered all manner of bizarre spells with vastly different effects. Adhering to the principle that “existence is rational,” he had once attempted to explain magic using scientific methods, but since he had absolutely no understanding of the principles behind how spellcasting actually worked, this endeavor naturally ended in a humiliating failure. In this world, science and engineering had already taken their rightful place alongside the humanities as the two largest components of the imperial examinations (taking Ou Yang’s “Xiu Cai” qualification as an example, at that time, the humanities and sciences each accounted for 50 points, archery for 20 points, for a total of 120 points), and they were the absolute focus of the empire’s education system. According to the provisions of the empire’s *Dahua Law*, children from the commoner class and above were required to complete compulsory education; failure to do so resulted in severe penalties. The promotion of education in the humanities, sciences, and physical education was enforced by law. Following the universalization of compulsory education, the Empire vigorously promoted vocational education. In recent years, vocational schools have sprung up like mushrooms after rain across all provinces of the nation. This has led the Imperial Minister of Rites, who oversees education, to declare that within twenty years, all professions in the Empire would be incorporated into the existing educational system. However, when it comes to the arts of sorcery—or magic—even with the Empire’s formidable national strength, abundant educational resources, and unwavering determination to promote education, it has never managed to alter the ancient master-apprentice model. The vast majority of spellcasters still seek out one or more apprentices who suit their preferences, taking them under their wing to teach them with dedication. For Imperial officials who champion school-based education and firmly believe that test scores reflect educational attainment, this is nothing short of a disgrace. Consequently, imperial officials—most of whom were educated within the current system—and spellcasters, who possess mystical powers yet remain secretive, frequently clash fiercely over the future of one or two “spellcasting prodigies.” It seems this time, the dispute has landed on the Zuo family. “Brother Zhengming, what are your thoughts on your younger sister’s education?” Ou Yang asked, somewhat at a loss for words. The Zuo family’s opinion on this matter was crucial, but ultimately, it would depend on the young girl’s own decision. Zuo Hengbai gave a wry smile. “As an imperial officer and a student at a government-run high school, I can only side with the Minister of Education on this matter. However, Master Yu is highly skilled in the arts and has been Little Sixteen’s private tutor. If Crystal truly is, as Master Yu says, a promising candidate for the path of cultivation, we certainly can’t hold her back.” “What about Miss Crystal’s own thoughts? What does she want to study?” “That’s precisely the problem,” Zuo Hengbai said with a deep sigh. “Xiao Shiliu has excelled in her elementary and middle school studies, and the Commissioner of Education believes she will one day attain the rank of Xiucai or even Juren. But Master Yu also says Xiao Shiliu is a prodigy in the arts of magic and has even promised she can inherit his legacy. Xiao Shiliu herself is torn—it seems she wants to pursue both paths. But at its core, this comes down to different educational approaches. If she studies magic under Master Yu, where will she find the time to attend school? And if she wants to go to school, how can she spend every day by her master’s side?” “Heh, I just don’t get what a top student is thinking either…” “What?” Ou Yang muttered so softly to himself that Zuo Hengbai couldn’t make it out. “Nothing. I was just saying, what’s the point of coming to me about this?” “Wei Xuezheng is currently debating with Master Yu over whether science or magical arts is more powerful. Murong, the School Supervisor, once wrote in a letter that even though Qiubing is about to go off to war, he hasn’t forgotten his studies and has already passed the Xiu Cai examination.” By the time they spoke, the two had already reached a large door. As Zuo Hengbai pushed the door open and stepped inside, he continued, “Wei Xuezheng believes Brother Ou should have his own thoughts on this matter, and that a promising young person would carry more weight.” This was a large room on the second floor of the northernmost rear annex building at the General’s headquarters, measuring a full 100 square meters. Its layout resembled a conference room at the SF Express office and appeared to be frequently used for receiving guests. At that moment, there were only five people inside. Seated at the head of the long table, a burly man in military uniform with a forced smile on his face was presumably General Zuo Yunyi. To his left sat a middle-aged Taoist nun in a Taoist robe, her lovely face set in a frosty expression. Zuo Shuijing stood on either side of her, one on the left and one on the right, with one massaging her shoulders and the other pouring tea—seemingly trying to soothe her. To his right sat only a thin old man with a goatee, bellowing in a voice that belied his frail frame: “Twenty years studying magic—take you, Master Yu, for example—what good has it done? I’ve seen your ‘Thunderbolt Fist’ before! It’s not much better than a twenty-jin cannon! It doesn’t even take a craftsman that long to make a whole artillery battalion’s worth of equipment! If twenty years of studying magic and sorcery ultimately leaves you no better than a cannon-maker, then what’s the point of studying it at all!?” The middle-aged Taoist nun snorted coldly: “Minister Wei, please don’t be so condescending. A cannon firing twenty-jin shells requires at least eight horses and twenty men to operate…” She cast a probing glance at Zuo Yunyi; seeing him nod, she continued, “With such clumsy performance, how could it possibly be compared to my ‘Thunderbolt Hand’? I travel alone and can go anywhere I please—can you, Magistrate Wei, really carry an artillery unit with you every day?” After speaking, she turned and took Zuo Shuijing’s hand, speaking in the tone of a teacher advising a top student not to fall in love too early: “Shuijing, you come from a military family, and you like all that fighting and killing—your master won’t stand in your way. But this sort of thing is always particularly dangerous; only by mastering these skills yourself can you remain invincible!” As she spoke, she turned and glared fiercely at the old man: “Always relying on external aids—sooner or later, trouble will arise!”