Chapter 199 — The First Lesson
Blade of Dawn · Page 1 of 4
"Keeping to time" had once been a noble prerogative and hallmark, for only nobles possessed the instruments and methods to calculate time with precision—be they magic timepieces or the mechanical clocks that came from the dwarven kingdoms, no commoner could ever hope to own one. Thus the nobility came to regard punctuality as part of high society itself, elevating it into a matter of etiquette and propriety, while common folk simply judged the hours roughly by sun and stars and arranged their labor accordingly. Such was the norm on every noble domain outside the Cecil Territory.
In the Cecil Territory, however, everyone's life ran in strict accordance with "time": the hour to begin work, the hour to stop, the hour the mess hall opened, the hour night school began—everything was marked by a precise scale of hours. From the territory's officials down to the lowliest commoners, all alike.
This was the change Gao Yang had brought, a change made to overturn that chaotic, primitive, and inefficient mode of production. Only a precise timetable could keep the factories running smoothly; only a precise timetable could make people understand the importance of efficiency. At first, many commoners had been baffled by these demands, obeying the new rules only in a daze out of sheer reverence for their lord. But by now, "on time" had become a familiar enough phrase across the territory—even children understood its necessity.
For they had to arrive at school on time, earlier than the adults, study longer, and meet stricter demands.
Gao Yang had not yet introduced full-day schooling, so for the time being the children of the Cecil Territory spent half of each day at home helping their parents with chores, and after the noon meal they were required to report to the "Cecil General Academy" in the southern part of the territory.
It was a brand-new school built of brick, tile, and cement. Its main building was the most imposing and largest structure in the territory after the various factories, and the flag of the Cecil Territory flew over its plaza, while the walls bore the vast, majestic emblems of Cecil and Ansu. Gao Yang firmly believed that a sense of honor and belonging must be cultivated from childhood; compared with adults whose worldviews were already fixed, it was all the more important for children to acquire such awareness early. And the striking, dignified school insignia would also help increase the populace's enthusiasm for "enrollment": to receive an education arranged by the lord in such an imposing facility would, in many people's minds, become a matter of great honor.
And even if they did not feel the honor, Gao Yang meant to instill in them the idea that it was honorable.
The adults' night school began after the day's work was done, while the children came to the school from the afternoon onward. They studied here until sundown, then ate a free dinner with the teachers (this dinner was one of the incentives that made many adults willing to send their children to school), and after dinner they continued to study until the adults' night classes ended, whereupon they went home from school alongside their parents.
Adults' minds were set in their ways, and taking in new knowledge had become quite difficult for them, so Gao Yang's requirement for most of the territory's adult workers was merely that they be able to read and count—at the very least, to make out the operating instructions on the machines in the factories. But children were precious "blank paper"; they had not yet been worn numb by life, and could still absorb flexible new ideas and new knowledge. Hence Gao Yang placed great importance on the education of children.