**Chapter 107: One Hand Against Ten**
Five days later, Qin Mu arrived in Jiangling Commandery. Jiangling was many times more prosperous than any county town he had passed through. The city was built almost entirely upon the water—not the Yong River but the Golden River—hence Jiangling was also called Jinling.
The Golden River ran wide and swift, its waters vast as a sea. Originally, Jiangling Commandery had occupied an island amid the endless current. But as ship traffic increased and prosperity grew, the city became crowded. Expansion was inevitable, and a massive construction project was launched.
The Prefecture Governor at the time was none other than the present State Preceptor of Yankang. Even then, he was a brilliant talent of extraordinary capability. He summoned skilled craftsmen and thousands of cultivators to drive deep stone pilings into the riverbed—each one a hundred zhang long, more than three thousand eight hundred in total. The tops of the pilings stood thirty zhang above the waterline, allowing large ships to pass beneath and floodwaters to flow freely.
The State Preceptor and his engineers paved the new district with great boulders and reinforced the structure with supernatural arts. It was a colossal undertaking—tens of thousands of cultivators labored for ten years before the new city was complete.
The lower levels of the new city featured skylights for illumination, which doubled as drains during heavy rain. Some dry docks were built beneath the city, connected by cable systems.
The waterfront bristled with docks of every size. Ships moored there constantly, loading and unloading cargo.
The city's splendor earned it the nickname "Little Capital," which drew censure from court scholars who accused the Jiangling Prefecture Governor of harboring treasonous ambitions—claiming the new city severed the empire's dragon veins. They urged the emperor to have him executed.
Others alleged the Governor had built a dragon's head atop the Golden River as a declaration of rebellion.
After completing this feat, the State Preceptor was summoned to the imperial capital. Many expected the emperor to order his execution. Instead, Crown Prince Yanfeng was deeply impressed by his abilities. After ascending the throne, Yanfeng repeatedly promoted the State Preceptor, elevating him to the highest position before long.
Qin Mu had heard these stories from the ferryman and couldn't verify their truth, but the State Preceptor's competence and Emperor Yanfeng's discernment left him full of admiration.
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He shared the ferry with scholars from Jiangling Commandery—some from impoverished backgrounds, others from wealthy houses. Qin Mu learned that most were alumni of Jiangling's primary schools and higher schools.
He was curious and asked about the school system, learning that it had been established by the State Preceptor and was now implemented nationwide.
The State Preceptor had told Emperor Yanfeng: "At eight years of age, all children—from princes to commoners—shall enter primary school, where they are taught guidance arts, etiquette, rites, music, archery, horsemanship, calligraphy, mathematics, character cultivation, and foundation-building. Observing their talents, teachers shall instruct according to aptitude. Those who awaken the Spirit Womb and break through the Divine Treasuries may be selected for higher school."
The State Preceptor continued: "At fifteen, the crown prince, princes, and sons of lords, ministers, and officials—as well as the most exceptional commoners—shall enter higher school, where they are taught supernatural arts, swordsmanship, heart-cultivation, self-discipline, governance, and the study of all techniques ancient and modern. Higher school students are all disciples of the Son of Heaven himself, requiring no allegiance to any sect. In time, the threat of sectarianism will be eliminated."
And further: "Upon completing higher school, students may enter the Imperial Academy. There, they are trained in the arts of governance and military command, study the Dao and its applications deeply, and learn to bring order to the realm—so that peace may prevail and the Son of Heaven can rest easy."
Qin Mu was moved. With the State Preceptor governing education this way, how could the state not flourish?
The sectarian schools' living space had been squeezed by the primary and higher schools. No room to survive—no wonder they revolted.
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On the ferry, Qin Mu took out a copy of the Mathematical Classic he had purchased in Jiangling and studied it carefully, jotting down algebraic solutions with a charcoal stick.
A heavyset scholar asked, "Brother Qin, are you heading to the capital for the entrance examinations?"
Qin Mu nodded. "I am. I hope to make my way in the capital. Brother Wei, are you also sitting for the exams?"
The heavyset youth was named Wei Yong. He nodded with a grin. "My lifelong dream is to pass the exams and enter the Imperial Academy, where I can read to my heart's content!"
Another scholar laughed. "Brother Wei, the Imperial Academy isn't so easy to enter. You're only fourteen—you're still a primary school student. You can't qualify!"
Wei Yong scoffed. "Are higher school students so great? They might not be able to beat me or Brother Qin in a fight!"
The scholars burst into laughter.
Qin Mu smiled. Most of those on the ferry were bound for the capital examinations, hoping to enter the Imperial Academy.
Jiangling's higher school taught only basic swordsmanship and spell-casting, covering limited ground. But the Imperial Academy in the capital held a million volumes and encompassed virtually every technique and art from every sect in the State of Yankang—the empire's highest institution of learning.
Entry was fiercely competitive. Higher school students from across the empire fought tooth and nail for a place. Primary school students faced even steeper odds—they could only gain admission through exceptional distinction. Each year, a mere handful made it through.
The ferryman steered the vessel to the far bank. Qin Mu noticed the boat employed a strange alchemical furnace. Burning medicinal stones inside the furnace generated spiritual energy that turned a set of gears above, which in turn drove a great paddle wheel like a waterwheel, propelling the ship forward.
The ferryman had only to manage the rudder.
Qin Mu marveled. In the Great Ruins, where would you ever see such ingenious devices?
Before long, the ferry reached the shore. He disembarked with the other scholars and, not far from the dock, arrived at the vehicle market.
Qin Mu looked around with fresh amazement. For hire were land-boats, flying carriages, immortal cranes, and earth-dragons, along with several tower-ships being prepared for departure, trailing steam and fire.
"Brother Qin—over here!"
Wei Yong stood beneath a towering ship and waved him over. A gangplank had been lowered, and scholars were boarding.
Qin Mu walked over and looked up at the tower-ship in surprise. Wei Yong, naturally gregarious, laughed. "Land-boats are too bumpy. Flying carriages are expensive. Cranes and earth-dragons leave you exposed to the elements. A tower-ship is the most comfortable, even if it's a bit slower. The Academy exams aren't for a while yet, so we might as well travel by ship."
Qin Mu agreed. "How much?"
Wei Yong produced a jug of wine. "You're dressed better than I am—why worry about the price? Little Fox, I bought you some wine."
Little Fox was delighted. She stood on her hind legs and bowed to him with genuine formality before accepting the jug.
Qin Mu paid the captain at the pier. The fare from Jiangling to the capital was ten large Feng coins—not particularly expensive. Over the past five days Qin Mu had spent freely and had developed no real sense of the coins' value; he only knew that whenever he handed one over for food or lodging, the recipient beamed.
Man, fox, and scholar boarded. The ship filled quickly. An alchemist and his apprentices ignited the tower-ship's furnace. Medicinal energy was converted into spell-power that flowed to a bronze beast sculpture at the stern. The beast's gaping mouth erupted with fierce flame. The tower-ship rose slowly, adjusted its heading in midair, unfurled its sails, and glided northward away from Jiangling.
The ship's passengers each had their own cabins, and meals were provided. The next few days would pass entirely aboard.
Qin Mu stood at the rail, watching the city shrink below. Tower-ships rose higher and their speed increased. From Jiangling, flying carriages, bird-mounts, and airships periodically departed for other cities, while the river bustled with boat traffic.
"The State of Yankang is truly wondrous," he murmured.
Ling Yuxiu had told him that Yankang's techniques advanced daily—seeing it firsthand confirmed the claim. He could tell that Yankang was weaving supernatural arts into every corner of daily life, slowly transforming how ordinary people lived, ate, traveled. It closely mirrored the Holy Path described in the Great Nurturing Heavenly Demon Sutra—the Way of the Sages, manifest in the common people's everyday needs.
A strange thought crossed his mind: Could the State Preceptor of Yankang also be a member of my Heavenly Demon Cult?
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Some scholars aboard were practicing martial techniques. Their cultivation was impressive, but what puzzled Qin Mu was that they all practiced the same fighting styles, the same spells, the same sword forms.
Qin Mu didn't understand. Practicing identical techniques—wouldn't that make them easy to counter?
In his view, the warrior realm was still a foundation stage, and breadth of knowledge was part of that foundation. If most students trained in the same art, the same spell, the same sword style, an opponent could exploit those patterns with ease.
"I could take ten of these warriors with one hand," he thought, shaking his head internally. He returned to the Mathematical Classic—Yankang's printed edition came in ten volumes, which he had already finished, and he had filled many pages with algebraic solutions.
At night, he went out onto the deck to study the stars, applying his mathematical formulas and recording his calculations.
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The tower-ship sailed for four days. As the capital drew closer, the scholars—most making their first trip—could barely contain their excitement. They crowded the rails, craning for their first glimpse.
Then a violent jolt shook the ship. Several scholars who hadn't gripped in time tumbled overboard. They hadn't cultivated flight techniques. Their screams stretched on and on—the ship was flying too high, and they would fall for some time before hitting the ground.
Qin Mu frowned. He braced himself like two spears driven into the deck, one hand clutching the tipsy Little Fox, the other gripping the equally tipsy Wei Yong to keep them from being flung off.
A roar of laughter echoed from beyond the ship. An immense serpent—unimaginably massive—had clamped its hooked jaws around the stern and was tearing with all its strength.
Panic erupted. The stern snapped off. Scholars near the back fell into the void. Several were swallowed whole by the giant snake.
The serpent's flattened head bore a figure: a man in flowered robes, painted and powdered, strikingly beautiful—a languidly graceful male, watching the ship's chaos with undisguised glee.
*Note: The passage about primary and higher schools references the educational reforms of Zhu Xi in the Song Dynasty, adapted by the author. Primary and higher schools are ancient Chinese institutions, first formally named around the 1st century BCE in the Western Han Dynasty. The Great Record of Rites records: "At eight, boys went out to study minor arts and observe minor rites. At fifteen, they bound their hair and entered higher school to study major arts and observe major rites." The Book of Rites states: "Primary school was located to the south of the palace; higher school was in the suburbs." The Eastern Han text Baihu Tong says: "At eight, enter primary school; at fifteen, enter higher school."*