Who dreams the big dream

Author: Wu Liyang
Publisher:
Publishing Date: 2005-05-01
Features: When I was a child, listening to adults tell myths, I knew about the "" () and "" (), which sparked endless imagination in my young mind. As I grew older and got married, my late wife, Ms. Guo Yuan (1937—1970), who graduated from Fudan University's physics department and researched cutting-edge technologies like infrared, told me that from a modern technological perspective, radio telescopes and long-distance direct dial phones have already made the mythical "" and "" a reality, with their magical functions even surpassing those in the myths. However, the myths did not include a "" (). In historical records and anecdotes, there are occasional accounts of geniuses who predicted the future for centuries or even millennia, but that was just nonsense, not worth a laugh. The "Bakang Song" () by Liu Bowen, which emerged in modern times, was a divination fabricated by the people during times of war and turmoil—it was no more than a dreamer's delusion and had nothing to do with historical perspectives. In the early 1980s, shortly after the "Gang of Four" was overthrown, many people reflected on the decade of chaos that had brought unprecedented disaster to the Chinese nation, seeking the roots of the problem. At that time, I read The Thousand-Year Eye () by Zhang Sui, a Ming Dynasty author from the Wan period. This book was not widely circulated and is not listed in the General Catalogue of the Siku Quanshu, with only Ming Dynasty printed editions and a collection in The Great Collection of Notebooks and Novels, Supplement preserved. The Institute of History at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, where I work, has a Ming Dynasty printed edition, so I borrowed it to read. What caught my attention was the book's title—I guessed the author must be someone with a historical perspective, otherwise why would he call it The Thousand-Year Eye? After reading the entire book, I realized my guess was correct. Zhang Sui was indeed a scholar with a historical perspective, discussing the past and commenting on the present, transcending a millennium and often standing at the height of history to observe the ancients and moderns, occasionally shining with intellectual sparks. For example, in Volume 1 of the book, it states: "Although King Wu of Zhou despised the officials of the Zhou Dynasty, he could not change the long-standing customs. Over time, it became increasingly difficult to reform. Mencius said: 'When a ruler promotes virtuous officials, if he has no choice, he will let the humble hinder the noble, and the distant surpass the close.' In modern terms, what necessity is there? If one abandons farming tools in the morning and joins the official ranks by evening, people would still be content. The three clans of Lu, the seven clans of Zheng, and the three clans of Chu all dominated their respective regions. Even though they were as greedy as wolves, as cruel as sheep, and as foolish as pigs, their rulers still employed them. Meanwhile, talented scholars and common people were suppressed by their clans, and countless of them died in the fields without seeing the light of day." Here, Zhang Sui exposed the harms of the hereditary system of officials. In reality, what he described was not limited to the great clans of ancient Lu, Zheng, and Chu. Connecting it to the Ming Dynasty's reality, the ugly phenomenon of a de facto hereditary system of officials was almost countless. I wonder if Zhang Sui did not live to see the downfall of Wei Zhongxian. During Wei Zhongxian's reign of terror, his nephew, son-in-law, and clan relatives rose to prominence one after another. His nephew Wei Liangqing was particularly typical. Originally, he farmed in his hometown of Suning, unable to read even a large character, yet Wei Zhongxian promoted him to high positions, from a clerk in the Embroidered Uniform Guard to overseeing the Southern Town Pacification Commission, and later enfeoffed as the Marquis of Suning and the Duke of Ning, even granted the title of Grand Tutor (a very high honor in the Ming Dynasty), seemingly soaring to the heavens. However, the higher one climbs, the harder one falls. After Wei Zhongxian's downfall, Wei Liangqing said during his trial, "I grew up in the countryside, content to farm—I had no idea about wealth and status. Today, I am praised for my merits, tomorrow I am lauded for my virtue, and my merits and virtues are so great that I should naturally be enfeoffed. But I never expected to be forced into a position of power as Wei Zhongxian's nephew, wearing robes and insignia. Those who praise me and laud me are the ones who forced me into wealth—I have no!" (From Chou Yin Wen Jian Zhi, Volume 19 of Tian Jue Tang Wen Ji by Xue Gang, a Chongzhen-era printing.) Wei Liangqing's words are truly worth highlighting. "Forced by wealth," how profound! Even in the last century, on the Chinese political stage, were there not farmers, vegetable sellers, weavers, and security guards from factories, etc., who were suddenly "forced" into the highest echelons of power? How long ago were those days? The Chinese people are all very clear. Clearly, because Zhang Sui had profound historical insight, he could offer deep and enlightening insights when discussing the past and the present. Throughout the entire The Thousand-Year Eye, every passage contains genuine wisdom. Connecting it to Sima Qian's "understanding the changes between past and present," whether in governing, studying, or writing, without a historical perspective, one would inevitably be short-sighted. On a grand scale, it could lead to national disaster; on a small scale, it would result in mediocrity and prevent great achievements. Therefore, I named this series of selected historical essays "The Thousand-Year Eye Collection." Although only I, who majored in history and have always made a living as a historian, am the editor of this series, both the literary elder He Manzi and the writers Mu Hui, Chen Siyi, Xiong Zhaozheng, Li Qiao, and Wu Liyang are well-read in history and possess considerable erudition. Their historical essays offer a distant view of history and a close look at the present, always using a thousand-year perspective to pierce through the temporal and spatial boundaries of history, illuminating both the past and the present. Calling them the "Thousand-Year Eye" is well-deserved. Unfortunately, Mu Hui passed away unexpectedly on June 8, 2004. On June 7, he called me and asked about this series, and I replied that I was still planning it. Now that the series is about to be published, he will not see it, and I cannot help but feel sorrow. Li Qiao is a close friend I met shortly after moving to Beijing, with whom I have exchanged thoughts for over twenty years. After he submitted his essay, he fell seriously ill, but thankfully, after major surgery, he survived the ordeal and is now recovering. I hope the publication of this book will be a sincere blessing for my dear friend Li Qiao. On this occasion, I would also like to sincerely wish the elder scholar Wang Yuanhua, who inscribed the title for this series, good health and longevity.