A Pawn's Passage

Sage Donghua had asked Qi Xuansu to produce some splendid discourse rather than merely repeat stale clichés.

The discourse here was not an essay in the literal sense. Naturally, Sage Donghua was not asking Qi Xuansu to write an essay as though he were sitting for the imperial examinations. Rather, he wanted to spark a broader current of discussion. At the very least, it should be a series of arguments and statements, with Qi Xuansu being the one to get the ball rolling.

Naturally, something like this could not be entrusted to someone else. Yan Yongzhen could not write it, nor would he dare to. More importantly, only Qi Xuansu himself could judge how far he could go and where to draw the line.

The Daoist priests of the Wanxiang Daoist Palace might not be particularly capable when it came to practical affairs, but they were the best at theory and discussing strategy on paper. How could they possibly fail to understand what Qi Xuansu was really trying to say?

A speech delivered in such a public setting would inevitably spread far and wide, and it was certain to cause a tremendous uproar.

Some people’s expressions changed, yet none of them dared to interrupt Qi Xuansu, so they instinctively looked toward Great Sage Shi.

As the Great Sage of the Wanxiang Daoist Palace and a veteran of the Daoist Order who had weathered countless storms, Great Sage Shi remained impassive, giving no indication of where he stood.

Qi Xuansu knew that saying these things carried a certain degree of risk, but he had only spoken because he had already judged the situation carefully.

Politics was ultimately about being on the “correct” side.

The key question was, what counted as “correct,” and who had the authority to define it?

Was there anyone in the Daoist Order today who could represent absolute correctness? Probably not. The Three Deputy Grand Masters each had a mind of their own. The Golden Tower Council was likewise composed of individuals who had their own ideas.

If such a person existed, the Daoist Order would never have fallen into its present state of division.

At present, the greatest source of political legitimacy within the Daoist Order was the Holy Xuan.

The Nine-Rank System for Daoist priests had been proposed by the Holy Xuan himself. That was precisely where the danger lay in Qi Xuansu pointing out its problems now. Thus, Qi Xuansu first had to distance himself from any suggestion that he was challenging the Holy Xuan, declaring that this system was a precious legacy left behind by the Holy Xuan and must be carried forward and further developed. The only matter up for discussion was how best to carry it forward and develop it.

In summary, it amounted to one simple message. The Holy Xuan’s original intentions were good. It was the present Daoists, as his successors, who had botched the implementation.

At the same time, Qi Xuansu was not discussing the current state of the Daoist Order entirely in isolation from the Wanxiang Daoist Palace. He also pointed out a widespread problem among its students, calling them insecure and arrogant. Before those above them, they called themselves inferior. But before those below them, they put on airs and regarded themselves as their betters for being more educated. Their attitude was that everyone above them should be treated equally, while everyone below me should observe a strict hierarchy.

They wanted equality with those above them, yet were unwilling to be equal with those below them, looking down on ordinary commoners as crude and uncouth.

This had been a common failing among the educated since ancient times. It was human nature, but that did not mean it should be encouraged.

There was nothing inherently wrong with being aloof, nor was there anything inherently wrong with being utilitarian and ambitious. The real problem was being caught awkwardly between the two.

If they truly wished to be aloof, they should also be free of desires and demands. They should not feel inferior before those above them, nor act arrogantly toward those below them.

If they truly wished to pursue worldly advancement, then they could devote themself wholeheartedly to climbing the ladder. They should not put on airs of lofty detachment nor pretend to be some free-spirited celebrated scholar. Yet some wanted the reputation of being high-minded, while deep down, they were calculating and self-serving.

They imagined themselves to be modest, when in truth they were merely putting on airs.

However, this topic was only a prelude.

Qi Xuansu quickly shifted the point of his criticism away from the students and toward those so-called people above them.

“History has shown that our Nine-Rank System has played an important role in the Daoist Order’s advancement. It is merely that at present, there has been a certain degree of disorder. The main problem is the lack of clarity regarding authority and responsibility. Everyone wants as much authority as possible and as little responsibility as possible. When it comes to seizing authority, they are exceptionally assertive. But they are incredibly fast in shirking responsibility, immediately shrinking back into their shells.

“For example, those at the upper level encroach upon the authority of the middle level. In any given matter, the upper level should decide whether something is to be done, while the middle level should decide how it is to be done. Yet some people insist on taking charge of everything indiscriminately. Not only do they decide whether something should be done, they also insist on deciding exactly how it should be done. But after spending too long at the top, they no longer understand the actual problems and difficulties faced at the grassroots level. The plans they devise are all castles in the air, without the slightest practical feasibility. In the end, it becomes a case of amateurs directing experts.

“The Holy Xuan recognized this problem, which was why he established middle managers—someone who could understand the intentions of those above while also being fully aware of the problems faced by those below. Yet the upper level has encroached upon the authority of the middle level and compressed the space in which it can perform this bridging function. Their authority has certainly grown, but this has had a deeply harmful effect and created disorder.

“This also manifests itself in the phenomenon of one-man rule. When decisions are being made, one person’s word carries absolute authority, and not the slightest dissent is tolerated. Yet when the time comes to assign responsibility, it suddenly becomes a collective decision for which everyone must collectively bear the blame. How can that possibly be acceptable?

“Where does the root of this disorder lie? It is due to the lack of clarity regarding our overall direction of Dao and virtue. The deterioration and chaos of individual thought and moral character spreads from the top down, affecting every single person.

“Therefore, I have set different requirements for the Upper Palace and the Lower Palace. The Lower Palace’s primary focus should remain on strengthening the study and cultivation of thought and moral character. Meanwhile, the Upper Palace should focus on the broader direction, studying and discussing the problems we currently face and proposing potential solutions.”

“I hope to spark a wave of enthusiasm within the Wanxiang Daoist Palace for studying questions of Dao and virtue. Ideally, we should produce a collection of outstanding discourse that suggests new theories. These works should not only be evaluated and compared within our Daoist Palace but also be submitted to Qingping Publishing House for formal publication.

“I hope the Daoist Palace will devote greater human, financial, and material resources to this undertaking. Ideally, the Daoist Palace can take the lead and inspire the entire Daoist Order, setting off a similar wave of enthusiasm in others and shifting our fellow Daoists’ attention from economic development toward the cultivation of Dao and virtue. After all, the Daoist Order is already sufficiently prosperous, so it is time for us to turn our attention back to the question of propriety. We have dismantled the Confucian system, so now we should establish an entirely new system of our own.”

By now, everyone understood what Qi Xuansu was trying to convey.

While the Three Daoist Prodigies were still focusing on concrete affairs, Qi Xuansu had already gone one step further and begun tackling ideology.

Ideological problems were not at all minor matters. Some seemingly mighty empires could very well collapse simply because something had gone wrong with their underlying ideology.

The division within the Daoist Order was not merely due to the vacant Grand Master seat. Fundamentally, it stemmed from ideological differences.

Qi Xuansu did not dare address this problem directly, nor did he have the standing to do so. Thus, he adopted a roundabout strategy of approaching the larger issue through a smaller one.

Of course, the main reason Qi Xuansu could do this was that Sage Donghua, the Heavenly Preceptor, the various Great Sages and Omniscient Sages of the Golden Tower Council were backing him. Had it been any other Omniscient Sage, even if they were capable of discussing such matters, they would never have raised them so rashly.

Many people once again turned their gazes toward Great Sage Shi, hoping to discern which way the wind was blowing from his expression.

This time, Great Sage Shi finally stated his position. “Sage Taiwei, your proposal is excellent and highly constructive. However, I have one basic recommendation. From now on, you should take primary responsibility for this initiative. Establish a dedicated team and formulate a development framework for cultivating Dao and virtue, preferably with clearly quantifiable targets. Over the next several years, this undertaking will be among the highest priorities of the Wanxiang Daoist Palace.”

The wind direction was now clear.

Great Sage Shi’s unequivocal support left no doubt about which way the wind was blowing. This was not some spur-of-the-moment idea from Sage Qi, nor was Sage Qi acting on his own. It represented the consensus of half the Daoist Order.

Thunderous applause immediately erupted throughout the assembly hall and beyond.

Yan Yongzhen was also thoroughly convinced.

Previously, people had often claimed that Qi Xuansu had merely been lucky. Yan Yongzhen himself had also entertained similar thoughts. After all, someone like Yan Yongzhen had the privilege to choose his superior. His family background gave him the means to afford mistakes, as well as the confidence to make his own choices.

The scions of great families could repeatedly make mistakes and start over again. They could make choices on their own initiative, all the while having a safety net. At worst, they could simply return home and inherit the family estate. This also allowed them to maintain a relatively calm state of mind without constantly worrying about gains and losses.

Those from humble backgrounds had it far worse. Even their utmost effort might yield no results. They had only one opportunity, so they had to seize it tightly. They also had no privilege to choose. In the end, they could only follow a single path all the way to the bitter end. One misstep, and there would be no room to retreat. They would immediately plunge into an abyss, with no hope of return.

Yan Yongzhen’s opinion of Qi Xuansu now rose to another level. For his superior to have come this far was not just luck. Qi Xuansu possessed genuine ability.

Although the two of them were roughly the same age, Qi Xuansu far surpassed Yan Yongzhen in terms of life experience and practical experience. Yan Yongzhen felt that there was much about his superior that he should learn from. At the very least, when it came to boldness and resolve, he was nowhere near Qi Xuansu’s level.

Yao Pei also joined in the applause as a matter of courtesy, though her face remained expressionless, making it impossible to tell what she was truly thinking.

Qi Xuansu’s inauguration ceremony finally drew to a close with a concluding speech from Great Sage Shi. Naturally, it also sparked considerable discussion within the Wanxiang Daoist Palace.

The instructors broadly reached a consensus. Sage Qi’s appointment might partly be intended to build his résumé, but he genuinely intended to get things done. Moreover, Qi Xuansu had explicitly laid out two requirements. Whether it was the education of the Lower Palace or the articles to be produced by the Upper Palace, the actual work would ultimately fall upon them. From now on, anyone hoping to simply coast by would find life considerably less idle.

Quite a few people began grumbling that their easy days were over. They would not stand in Qi Xuansu’s way in advancing his career, but he should not have dragged them along with him. All they wanted was to coast along and collect their salaries.

However, some people still managed to discern the implications behind Qi Xuansu’s words. Sage Qi had spoken about the division of authority and responsibility, as well as hierarchical barriers and the mobility of talent. If reforms were truly to be carried out, then they would have to establish several exemplary figures. This would then be a rare opportunity for the select few.

As long as they performed well, an opportunity could be right before their eyes.

Hard work did not necessarily bring opportunities. A genuine opportunity appeared only once or twice in life, which was precisely why most people eventually chose to coast through life.

But when a genuine opportunity finally arrived, it would be one’s own problem if one failed to seize it.