Chapter 80: Du Chengfeng's Deep Commitment to Education

Du Chengfeng’s actions were tantamount to openly declaring war on the aristocratic families.

Although Li Shimin had long harbored such intentions, he was equally aware that the time was not yet ripe to strike at the clans. If he acted rashly, it would surely plunge the nation into chaos and unsettle the lives of the people.

What Du Chengfeng was doing, in effect, was stepping on the mines ahead of Li Shimin, taking the brunt upon himself. In this way, the wrath of the great houses would be diverted to Du Chengfeng, while Li Shimin could remain safely behind the scenes, watching and waiting for his opportunity.

Even Li Shimin had to admit that the power of the aristocratic families was truly formidable.

To speak plainly, at the very least, the clans controlled more than half the officials at court. The remainder, if not themselves of noble blood, were closely allied to the great houses.

Li Shimin could not help but wonder: how did Du Chengfeng intend to face the immense resistance of the prominent families of Chang'an? Was he relying solely on those 150 elite guards of his? Or perhaps counting on Li Shimin to lend a helping hand from the shadows?

Admittedly, this force was so strong that even Li Shimin felt some trepidation. Nonetheless, to challenge houses that had stood for over a thousand years with just these guards seemed a touch naive.

Yet, regrettably, Du Chengfeng did not see it that way. His principle was simple: in the face of absolute strength, all scheming and plotting are empty talk.

Thus, Li Shimin’s concerns never troubled Du Chengfeng in the slightest.

Now, the number of cloned soldiers was approaching ten thousand. Such a force could easily sweep aside a minor kingdom; to crush a few aristocratic families in Chang’an was well within reach.

However, Du Chengfeng had no intention of revealing his strength so soon.

He spread his hands and shrugged, a hint of sorrow mingled with indifference in his expression, as he said, “Your Majesty, surely you know as well as I do: ever since Emperor Wu of Han dismissed the Hundred Schools, the great clans have been like man-eating tigers, holding the reins of power for over a millennium.”

“They never cease to flaunt their might before the throne, so better a short pain than a long one. Besides, every path is trodden by the footsteps of men—how do we know what works unless we try?”

Once again, Du Chengfeng’s words struck Li Shimin at his sorest spot.

“Sigh, how could I not know your words are truth?” Li Shimin replied with deep helplessness. “I too wish to rid the nation of this ancient malady in one bold stroke, but I know well it will not be easy. This is a matter that requires careful deliberation.”

“Your Majesty,” Du Chengfeng replied nonchalantly, “there’s an old saying: ‘Hesitation in decisive moments brings chaos upon oneself.’ If you always worry about what lies ahead and behind, fearing both the wolf and the tiger, you’ll never accomplish anything great.”

“Hesitation in decisive moments brings chaos upon oneself?” Li Shimin repeated the phrase over and over, his heart stirred.

Suddenly, he burst out laughing. “Excellent! Du Chengfeng, I must admit, your words have renewed my confidence.”

“As long as Your Majesty understands,” Du Chengfeng replied calmly.

His words seemed to rekindle Li Shimin’s ambition—the sharp glint returned to his eyes, though it soon faded into measured calm. The scales in his heart wavered.

Li Shimin fell silent, digesting Du Chengfeng’s words. Between the lines, he could sense Du Chengfeng’s genuine loyalty to the Tang Dynasty, as well as his disdain and hatred for the great houses.

It was precisely this disdain and hatred that drove Du Chengfeng to challenge the clans so hastily through the vehicle of education.

Such was Li Shimin’s assessment of Du Chengfeng at this moment.

Gazing at the unruffled Du Chengfeng, Li Shimin asked, “Du Chengfeng, what is this new education you speak of?”

“Your Majesty,” Du Chengfeng countered, “before I explain my new education, may I ask: in your view, what is the purpose of reading? What is its use?”

“The purpose of study is, of course, to serve the court and achieve meritorious fame as an official,” Li Shimin answered without hesitation.

In his eyes, the reason the great houses acted with such impunity was that their sons occupied the majority of official posts. If those officials were all his own men, would he not be master of the situation?

“Exactly,” Du Chengfeng said with a cheerful smile. “Even Your Majesty believes the purpose of study is to serve the court, to become an official, to rise above others as a scholar or noble. All the more do the majority of the world’s scholars think likewise.”

“Is there anything wrong with that?” Li Shimin frowned slightly and reflexively asked.

“Of course there is!” Du Chengfeng sprang to his feet, raising his voice in rebuttal. “Your Majesty, this is the so-called erroneous Confucian teaching that has long insisted, ‘All pursuits are inferior, only study is exalted.’”

“It is this very fallacy, repeated for centuries, that has driven generations of scholars to throw themselves into study with unwavering zeal. It is a flawed concept, a mistaken belief,” he declared emphatically.

“But I am not saying that serving the court is wrong, nor that becoming an official is not a scholar’s dream,” Du Chengfeng continued. “Yet, Your Majesty, have you ever considered: in today’s Tang, how many truly attain fame through study? And how many scholars are there in the land?”

“The fortunate may win the favor of fate and achieve renown, but far more are left disappointed by the exams, their hopes dashed.”

“And the fate of these men, Your Majesty—have you thought of it? Most of them spend half their lives poring over books, and in the end, what do they gain? Frustrated talents, lives of unfulfilled ambition—most end their days in misery.” Du Chengfeng’s tone grew heated.

His barrage of questions left Li Shimin speechless; he had no answer and could only fall silent.

He, the exalted emperor, was at a loss before the words of the sixteen-year-old Du Chengfeng.

Li Shimin had always believed he had served his people and officials well, often priding himself on his destiny and wisdom. Yet, at this moment, Du Chengfeng’s words laid bare the bitter fate of scholars throughout the land.

Du Chengfeng sighed and spoke earnestly, “Your Majesty, among the common people there is no lack of talent and ambition, yet these men cannot rise, cannot enter the bureaucracy, cannot serve the people. How bitter must their lives be!”

“There is an old saying: ‘A scholar’s learning is useless.’ What they lack is but an opportunity, a platform. Besides, the court cannot possibly employ all the scholars in the land.”

“So, Your Majesty, given such circumstances, what path is left for them? Proper guidance and propaganda are crucial. Reading should not be the only road to officialdom and fame—there are many possible directions.”

“The true value of study lies in self-improvement and empowerment, in better serving the people, in advancing human society, and in making the nation more civilized.”

“My new education aims to shatter completely that erroneous notion that ‘all pursuits are inferior, only study is exalted.’ To change the method of education, to guide and inform correctly, so that the common people will see hope and usefulness in learning.”