Twenty-Five: The Beneficial Medicine of a Prosperous Nation

Winter faded and spring arrived; each year begins with the awakening of all things. In these days growing ever warmer, Luan Yi found himself distracted, his mind repeatedly conjuring the graceful silhouette departing in the distance, and the tearful face bidding farewell from the carriage window. He wondered what kind of Spring Festival Cai Yan had spent in Chenliu, and when she might return to Yingchuan again.

The intense longing gathered in Luan Yi’s heart, undiminished by the passage of time, yet ultimately forced into a hidden corner by the demands of his busy life. He truly had no time for yearning...

After the Festival of Lanterns, the Han Dynasty's very first true printing workshop officially began operations on the outskirts of Yangzhai County. The workshop covered seven acres, employing twenty-five printers, seven drying workers, ten deliverymen, ten binders, and three warehouse keepers—a total of fifty-five workers. For the printing type, Luan Yi commissioned the county's seal craftsmen to carve each character in the Feibai script.

It took a month to craft the typefaces. Afterward, the printing workshop began production in earnest. Sheets of white silk were saturated with the fragrance of ink as they passed through the rollers, then moved outdoors by the drying workers. Once the ink had dried, the sheets were placed in storage. When a set of books was printed, the binders stitched them into volumes ready for reading. Their form was identical to modern books, though the pages were larger and the medium was silk.

Two months later, the first batch of 1,000 silk-bound copies of "Hongdu Stone Classics" emerged. Released in Le Yi Pavilion within Yangzhai County, Yingchuan Commandery, they were instantly embraced by the scholars of Yingchuan. The new binding style, portable volumes, and the prestige of Cai Yong’s name made these books highly coveted; they sold out within three days. Subsequent shipments continued to arrive in droves, selling out as fast as they came.

Every day before dawn, long lines formed outside Le Yi Pavilion. The taverns and inns of Yangzhai overflowed with book buyers from every corner of the Han. The first batch of ten thousand copies sold out rapidly, and another ten thousand were being printed in haste. The fervor of the book trade surpassed even the expectations of Luan Tao and Luan Yi; the Luan family reaped enormous profits.

Two months later, as people delightedly read their copies of "Hongdu Stone Classics," another news shook the town—Le Yi Pavilion was releasing new books, two at once. Among them was a collection authored by Luan Yi himself: the renowned "Liao Zhai Miscellany." This anthology included twenty-six well-known tales as well as twenty-four new stories penned by Luan Yi. To beautify the book, Luan Yi commissioned Mao Jie to illustrate the cover. He also added the words "Produced by Luan Clan" at the bottom of the cover.

Thus, "Liao Zhai Miscellany" was not only more exquisitely decorated, but also imbued with a brand identity. In no time, silk books bearing the Luan Clan mark became the hottest must-have item in the Han Dynasty. Anyone without a copy of "Hongdu Stone Classics" or "Liao Zhai Miscellany" in their study could hardly claim to be a scholar.

The second book released was "The Origin of Wealth," completed by Luan Yi at the start of the year. This hefty volume spanned 256 pages and five chapters, containing over a hundred essays, yet priced at only five guan coins—a sum affordable to most wealthy households in the Han. As Luan Yi had anticipated, "The Origin of Wealth" did not sell well initially. Its views on human nature and self-interest sparked considerable criticism; many felt it contradicted the orthodox belief in the innate goodness of human nature, and was thus heretical.

Yet, many eminent scholars of the age supported Luan Yi’s ideas. For instance, Cai Yong, master of the Five Offices, openly declared "The Origin of Wealth" to be a profound analysis of human nature, every word sincere and precious. Zheng Xuan, a great master of classical learning whom Luan Yi had never met, also endorsed the book. He told his students: “‘The Origin of Wealth’ asserts that ‘all men are self-interested, but when pursuing self-interest, guided by the mandate of heaven, they inadvertently benefit the entire nation and era!’” (Meaning: people pursue their own gain, but are guided by an invisible force—the mandate of heaven—which drives societal progress. Luan Yi equates the invisible hand with the Dao.) He deemed it a prescription for national prosperity.

Debate about the book in Yingchuan Academy was unceasing. Initially, a few aristocratic classes argued with Luan Yi, but the dispute grew to involve many more, including Guo Jia, Shan Fu, Xi Zhicai, Mao Jie, and the Five Offices. Eventually, Xun Yu and his nephew Xun You, as well as Cheng Yu, joined their ranks, turning it into a heated group debate.

Fearing trouble, the academy arranged for public debates on the sixteenth of each month, setting up a platform where the Five Offices, Xun Yu, Xun You, and Cheng Yu would stand ready to answer any doubts about "The Origin of Wealth." Luan Yi and his companions would respond and defend their positions.

This arena had hosted five debates over five months, each ending in victory for Luan Yi’s side. Of course, this was not merely a matter of superior learning; rather, as "The Origin of Wealth" was the modern bible of economics, its truths were beyond the comprehension of the Eastern Han era. Furthermore, the eight debaters each possessed their own strengths: Luan Yi mastered the teachings of Guan Zi; Guo Jia, a master of strategy; Mao Jie, versed in the Yellow Emperor’s philosophy; Shan Fu, expert in military theory; Xun Yu, familiar with Confucius and Mencius; Xun You, adept in legal codes; plus the encyclopedic Cheng Yu and the sharp-tongued Xi Zhicai—a veritable Han Dynasty encyclopedia. No scholar in the land could out-debate such a team.

It was once again mid-month. The summer sun scorched the earth, the trees in the courtyard drooping listlessly. Townsfolk hid indoors, loath to venture outside, while Luan Yi and his companions stood atop the high platform outside the academy, awaiting questions from their fellow students below.

After five months of debate, those with doubts about "The Origin of Wealth" had either been convinced or, knowing they could not best Luan Yi and his brothers, chose not to embarrass themselves further. Few dared to challenge them; most came simply for the spectacle.

With no opponents, Luan Yi and Guo Jia lounged on the platform, sipping tea under the punishing sun. Cup after cup was drained, and after the time of three incense sticks, no one spoke. Luan Yi, fearing he would soon be roasted black, signaled to his companions to end the event early.

They rose, preparing to leave, but as they descended the steps, they saw Master Zheng, the academy’s libationer, Elder Cen, and Zheng Shuang of the Xun family escorting an elderly gentleman from outside. Their respectful demeanor revealed the visitor’s distinguished status.

Examining the old man, they saw white hair crowning a youthful face, his skin supple and smooth, free of wrinkles. His lively eyes gleamed with wisdom. His sleeves fluttered as he walked, giving him an ethereal, almost immortal air.

Behind him came a small boy, about five or six years old, short in stature, with small eyes and a large nose, a tiny mouth beneath the prominent nose—distinctive, much like Dian Wei, and rather ugly. Upon entering, the child glanced timidly at the platform, then lowered his head.

Led by the academy’s leaders, the old man brought the boy to stand before the platform, smiling as he clasped his hands in greeting to Luan Yi and his companions. “I have a question and hope you young friends will enlighten me.”

The eight promptly bowed deeply. “We would not dare presume to instruct! If you have questions, please speak freely.”

The old man asked in a resonant voice, “Does ‘The Origin of Wealth’ claim that all people are self-interested?”

“Indeed,” Luan Yi replied, nodding.

“Then, how can a gentleman be self-interested?” the old man pressed.

“May I ask, is a gentleman without desires?” Guo Jia countered, striking to the heart of the matter.

“A gentleman stands proudly above the world, disdainful of the masses!” Xun Yu answered, head held high.

“Not so,” Xi Zhicai offered from another angle. “A true gentleman acts for the nation and its people, seeks happiness for all, harmony for every household, strength for the country, and prosperity for the state. The very pursuit of becoming a gentleman proves he has ambitions. It is an incisive point.”

The old man nodded in agreement, then asked, “Valid point. But if a gentleman’s character is so noble, how can he be self-interested?”

Luan Yi crossed his hands over his chest. “To pursue something is to have desires; desires lead to effort. Just as a gentleman makes the prosperity of the nation his ideal and strives toward it. If the nation thrives, the people are abundant, and as one of the people, the gentleman himself becomes wealthier. Thus, I call it indirect self-interest.”

The old man pondered this for a long time, wanting to refute but unable to find a better argument. He laughed heartily. “Indirect self-interest? Your explanation is quite thorough and makes sense. Still, I have another question I must ask.”

Luan Yi responded courteously, “Please ask, sir. I am all ears.”

“If everyone is self-interested, would they not compete and fight, plunging the world into chaos?”

“You ask a fine question!” Luan Yi said. “I too have often pondered this—if all are self-interested, why is there no chaos? The answer lies in an invisible force that guides self-interest in a positive direction.” Seeing the old man’s perplexed expression, he continued, “For example, a farmer tills the fields, earning food for himself and selling the surplus for profit—a self-interested act. Yet, by selling grain, he provides for the daily needs of scholars, artisans, and merchants. Or take Xun Yu’s wealthy family—everyone in the academy knows, but no one has ever tried to steal from him out of greed. There are countless such examples. After much reflection, I concluded that this invisible thing, which I call the ‘invisible hand,’ might more aptly be named ‘the Dao.’ And the Dao can be divided into the Mandate of Heaven and the Mandate of Man…”

On hearing this, Water Mirror was enlightened and pressed, “Oh? Please explain further!”

“The Mandate of Heaven is the natural order endowed to people, irresistible by human effort. Much of it remains to be explored, though some has been understood—such as the alternation of day and night, the waxing and waning of the moon, and, more deeply, the wisdom of ancient sages. The Mandate of Man refers to the rules created by human intelligence—such as criminal law. Nature did not teach people to repay murder with death or debts with payment. It also includes morality: loyalty, righteousness, benevolence, filial piety. Thus, I believe it is the Dao that guides self-interested people to uphold order and avoid chaos.”

Hearing this, the old man was delighted. “The Dao! Order! Well said—your words reveal profound truths. ‘The Origin of Wealth’ indeed deserves its reputation as a prescription for national prosperity!”