Stray Soul | Chapter 1: A Strange Child (Part 6)

One evening, as Jaal Wenle wrote letters for the illiterate townsfolk, a housewife in her late thirties informed, “Teacher Wenle, a child has been standing in the alley next to your classroom for three weeks now. He comes before you start class and leaves when you end class.”

Jaal Wenle halted his brush. “Oh? Do you know who he is?” The woman shook her head.

A vendor in his early fifties said, “We have seen him wander about town recently. He never bothers anyone. But he has a unique aura about him, so he stands out.”

Another man said, “The boy is handsome, but his clothes are coarse hemp. I think he is from a poor family of the Nulu Clan.”

Jaal Wenle smiled politely and did not inquire further. As a native of Golden Moon Province, his prospects are limited. Local clans are allowed some degree of authority by the Imperial Court, but not much more than other wealthy citizens of Eternal Moon Province. Their influence is kept low. At the provincial government level, the clans only have influence over safety of the urban area and patrolling of the wilderness. Positions of authority are held by the clan chiefs and delegated to trusted family members. The clans are less concerned with talent than they are with maintaining authority within their respective lineages. This child was clearly not chosen to succeed in any position of importance. I shall watch him. Should he demonstrate dedication, I can help him learn the virtues of ancient sages. This way, his life as a commoner could be a little better.

Over the following days, Jaal Wenle taught the same as he always has before. From time to time, he would look out the windows at Vazarl Nulu. Without a seat own, Vazarl Nulu stood for the duration of class. Without books to read from, he silently repeated after Jaal Wenle’s students. Without the text to copy, he would write in dirt with a stick the few words he knew. Inwardly, Jaal Wenle was pleased at the dedication he has observed.

Then came a summer rain. From inside his classroom, Jaal Wenle watched the few people commuting under umbrellas and raincoats. Rainy days are particularly hard on the servants of his students, who have to carry the school boxes containing their young masters’ and young misses’ personal effects as well as carry umbrellas. Many servants walk awkwardly, trying to best cover the well-to-do children without overexposing themselves to the rain.

Amidst the rushed urgency of many people avoiding the rain is a small unassuming figure. Under an umbrella too large for himself, the child walked unhurriedly. The umbrella in his hand swayed slightly with each step. Despite the water splashing on his pants and the mud on his shoes and socks, his face is tranquil. Quietly, child and umbrella bobbed into the alley by the classroom.

Jaal Wenle smiled to himself and turned back to the classroom. One of the servants tried to close the windows. Jaal Wenle said patiently, “The sound of rain is calming, leave the windows.”

The student whose servant was closing the window said, “Teacher, rain is coming in. We will get wet.”

“Readjust the tables and chairs,” Jaal Wenle said pleasantly.

“Teacher Wenle, there is a child standing outside,” the servant who tried to close the windows said. “He has been coming for many days. He has not paid for your lectures. We should send him away lest he bothers the young masters and young misses.” Some echoed similar sentiments.

“I have eleven students, yet there are twenty-two people attending my lessons,” Jaal Wenle said. “Though you stand quietly in the back, sometimes you nod-off or sneeze. Are such actions not distracting to my students?”

“Teacher, our servants are here to attend to us. They listen, but do not learn. Our parents have paid for us to be here,” a young miss said. “The boy outside has not paid. He cannot be here.”

“Beyond the doors and windows are vendors and commuters,” Jaal Wenle said. “Some butlers from your families also heard my lessons and told your parents, who then hired me. People of the world have not paid me, so they are not my students. Your parents have paid me, so you are my students. Your servants listen. People outside can also listen. I am only teaching the eleven of you. ‘From the man bringing his bundle of dried flesh for my teaching upwards, I have never refused instruction to anyone.’” [1]

“Sixth Young Miss Kishmle, we cannot deafen the world,” another young miss said. “Let us go on with our lesson. We are here to learn, after all. Those who are outside can listen. Like our servants, they cannot learn.”

A young master recited, “Let the will be set on the path of duty. Let every attainment in what is good be firmly grasped. Let perfect virtue be accorded with. Let relaxation and enjoyment be found in the polite arts.” [1] The boy smiled with a hint of mocking.

Jaal Wenle frowned slightly. “One should be mild, yet dignified; majestic, yet not fierce; respectful, yet easy.” [1]

Inwardly, Jaal Wenle felt bothered. These eight young masters and three young misses are allowed to be in this classroom because their parents paid him tuition fees. If given an alternative, they would not be present. Outside is someone who wants to learn, but cannot sit inside.

Jaal Wenle cannot accept Vazarl Nulu as a student either. Without proper justification, inviting in Vazarl Nulu would be deemed preferential treatment. Even as a charity case, it is basis for precedent. Ethically, I should close the windows and doors. Morally, I am also justified to do so. ‘Poverty and meanness are what people dislike. If poverty and meanness cannot be avoided, they should not be avoided. If a superior man abandon virtue, how can he fulfill the requirements of that name?’ [1]

After glancing at the umbrella outside the windows, Jaal Wenle turned back to his students and said, “Could I see a man of real talent and virtue, that would satisfy me. Could I see a man possessed of constancy, that would satisfy me.”[1]

[1] From the Analects of Confucius.