How Could a Scholar's Work Count as Plagiarism?

A scholar's robe, patched in seven or eight places.

Liang Heng looked at Gu Zhengchen's clothes. Seeing his shabby, impoverished appearance, he had already begun to think less of him.

His gaze rose, and he saw a pair of bright, alert phoenix eyes. There was not a trace of servility or panic in them, and the lean, resolute face held a quiet composure and certainty.

"Oh?"

Liang Heng gave a faint murmur of surprise.

In his sixty years, he had witnessed the collapse of the Yuan, the Red Turban armies sweeping across the land, the rebuilding under the Ming, and great armies marching on distant campaigns. Countless faces had been stricken with panic or troubled by unease; people either lived in constant terror or had no idea whether tomorrow would bring fortune, calamity, life, or death. Someone as steady as the man before him, unafraid of wind and rain, was a rare sight indeed.

"You are Candidate Gu?"

Try as he might, Liang Heng could not reconcile the man before him with the rumors of someone "dull-eyed and made foolish by poring over the classics."

Gu Zhengchen was not nervous. In his later life, he had given plenty of speeches onstage; he could handle a little scene like this. He answered calmly, "I am."

Liang Heng glanced at Chen Niang. Seeing her nod slightly, he picked up the few pages of The Legend of the White Snake from the table. "You wrote this?"

Gu Zhengchen shamelessly nodded, comforting himself with the story of Kong Yiji. I haven't plagia-pah, I haven't plagiarized anything.

How could a scholar's work count as plagiarism...

"Would you care to explain how The Legend of the White Snake came about?"

Liang Heng was very interested in the story behind the play.

Gu Zhengchen walked over to a chair and sat down without waiting for an invitation. As Liang Heng's eyebrows twitched upward, he began, "The Li Huang entry in the Tang collection of supernatural tales, Records of the Strange, records a story: 'A beauty clad in white, graceful and lovely beyond compare... When he went to seek her former residence, he found only an empty garden, where a great white snake was often seen beneath the trees.' The Song storytelling text Tale of the Three Pagodas at West Lake gives a detailed account of Immortal Xi's magical battle with the white snake..."

Although later generations disputed the origins of The Legend of the White Snake, there was no dispute over the work that marked the story's definitive form: "The White Lady Imprisoned Forever beneath Leifeng Pagoda," chapter twenty-eight of Stories to Caution the World.

Stories to Caution the World was written by Feng Menglong, who would not be born for another two hundred years. Presumably, the two of them would have no copyright dispute...

Liang Heng liked The Legend of the White Snake very much. The white snake was no longer a snake demon who bewitched people with her beauty, but a kind, devoted woman of the common streets, quick-witted and decisive. She felt more real, and her story was more moving.

"Where is the rest of the story?"

Liang Heng asked eagerly.

Gu Zhengchen pointed at his head and smiled without saying a word.

Liang Heng understood that Gu Zhengchen had brought him a play to appeal to his interests because he wanted something. Lowering his eyes to the script, he pondered for a moment. "Tell me. What do you want?"

"Money," Gu Zhengchen said frankly.

Chen Niang looked at Gu Zhengchen and said softly, "You are a scholar, after all. Isn't speaking so bluntly about money beneath your dignity?"

Gu Zhengchen answered directly, "Compared with losing my dignity, I'm far less willing to lose my family. There's nothing wrong with a gentleman holding fast to his principles in poverty, but surely he should at least make sure there's food to eat. Isn't it idiotic to prattle about the fifth level of needs when your physiological needs haven't even been met?"

"What are physiological needs and the fifth level of needs?"

Liang Heng was somewhat puzzled.

Chen Niang did not understand either, and Liang Fengyang shook his head. He had never heard of such things.

Gu Zhengchen wanted to steer the conversation elsewhere, but Liang Heng was a rigid man: once he fixed on a clay pot, he would smash it to get to the bottom. Left with no choice, Gu Zhengchen said, "According to Ma-in my view, human needs fall into five levels, like a five-story pagoda. At the bottom are physiological needs: having food to eat and clothes to wear. The second level is safety."

"How do you explain safety?"

"Er, it means being able to keep having food to eat and clothes to wear."

"Oh. Go on."

"The third level is making friends, the fourth is being respected, and the fifth is-bringing glory to your ancestors."

Worried that Liang Heng would ask further questions, Gu Zhengchen simply changed self-actualization to bringing glory to one's ancestors. For a scholar of the Great Ming, that ought to count as the ultimate goal.

Liang Heng looked intently at Gu Zhengchen. These five categories of needs sounded simple, but without careful reflection on and understanding of human nature, no one could have produced such a concise summary and division into levels!

"What price do you ask for the script of The Legend of the White Snake?"

Gathering his thoughts, Liang Heng asked.

Gu Zhengchen raised his right hand and spread all five fingers.

"Five strings of cash?"

"That's right."

"Get out!"

"Elder Liang, couldn't you at least make a counteroffer?"

"Five hundred cash."

"Farewell!"

"Wait! Well, one string. That's more than enough, isn't it?"

Seeing Gu Zhengchen already stepping through the doorway, Liang Heng hurriedly called after him.

Gu Zhengchen walked outside, turned back, and took a roll of manuscript pages from his sleeve. Refusing to budge, he said, "Two strings. One coin less, and I'll make sure The Legend of the White Snake never sees the light of day. As for how Fahai deals with the white snake, and how he leaves behind the curse, 'When Jinshan is flooded and Leifeng Pagoda falls,' you'll never get to read it..."

Liang Heng's hands trembled slightly. An impoverished scholar was extorting him. But what happened to the White Lady afterward? The suspense was simply unbearable.

"Give him the money!"

Liang Heng looked toward Liang Fengyang, whose lips twitched. Two strings of cash for this little bit of script! What a black-hearted fellow Gu Zhengchen was.

"I want copper coins."

Gu Zhengchen called out, and Liang Fengyang stumbled.

Before long, Liang Fengyang tossed Gu Zhengchen a bulging handkerchief, his face dark. Gu Zhengchen opened it and looked inside. There were strings upon strings of copper coins. He wanted to count them, but seeing the grim faces of Liang Fengyang and Liang Heng, he decided that would be rather inappropriate. Only then did he sheepishly take out the manuscript. "Elder Liang, this is the middle part of the play. You'll have to wait until tomorrow for the ending."

"Couldn't you finish writing the whole thing before coming to haggle with me?"

Liang Heng nearly exploded.

Chuckling, Gu Zhengchen tucked the money into his robe and said to Liang Heng, "Please don't tell anyone that I wrote The Legend of the White Snake."

Liang Heng accepted the manuscript and looked at him in surprise. "Why? The Legend of the White Snake may well take the world by storm. Don't you want your name remembered?"

Gu Zhengchen smiled. "I intend to enter court as an official. Wearing the hat of an entertainer wouldn't be appropriate."

He was neither Old Zhu's son Zhu Quan nor Old Zhu's grandson Zhu Youdun. When they wrote plays, it was an elegant pursuit. If a provincial graduate or an official wrote plays, it might be all right while he remained unknown, but once he became famous, trouble could spring up everywhere.

Liang Heng signaled for Liang Fengyang to escort Gu Zhengchen out, then turned toward Chen Niang. "What do you make of him?"

Chen Niang shook her head, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes deepening. "He understands people and the ways of the world, and knows when to advance or retreat. He's no bookish fool."

When Liang Fengyang returned, Liang Heng was leafing through the script. He said gravely, "Gu Zhengchen stumbled over his words while discussing those needs. He must have meant to say, 'According to Master Ma-something.' Make some inquiries and see whether there's a learned man surnamed Ma."

"Surnamed Ma?"

Liang Fengyang thought for a moment, then said slowly, "Father, I heard the servants mention that Candidate Gu was acting rather mad a few days ago. He jumped into the lake and shouted something about Ma Decao. Could that be the man?"

His expression solemn, Liang Heng fanned himself with the script. "Perhaps Candidate Gu's change has something to do with this mysterious Ma Decao. Have people keep an eye out. If we can befriend him, we should; if we can't, we must not offend him. I heard that Right Chancellor Wang Guangyang has been demoted to assistant administrator of Guangdong Province, leaving Hu Weiyong in sole control of the Central Secretariat's affairs. I keep feeling that the changing skies bode ill. I only hope the storm doesn't sweep up common folk like us..."