I humbly observe that as the Yin (feminine) waxes and the Yang (masculine) wanes, the heroism of women becomes formidable; while men grow weak and women grow strong, the plight of husbands becomes pitiable. When the earthly principle of Kun overrides the heavenly principle of Qian, the authority of the husband falls; when the wife governs the inner quarters and controls external affairs, her influence is at its peak! The social order has indeed declined; is it because the world is filled with the fierce beauties of Yan and Zhao, or because there are too few upright and stout-hearted men in this land? This has been a lamentable truth since ancient times, and it is even more pronounced today.
I was originally a Confucian scholar from a family of high standing, confident in my own grace and beauty. How could I have expected to be matched with a "lioness from the east river"? She is the Great General of our inner chambers, radiating her own glory; while I, the Grand Marshal of those who fear their wives, have no rival in this regard. This is not because southern men are inherently soft, but rather because the winds of the north are exceptionally fierce. Like a fierce deity perched upon a white lotus throne, or a "lipstick tiger" reclining among red brocades.
A single word of provocation brings the weight of the stars crashing down; a momentary frown of hers is as terrifying as a mountain demon. I tremble even while sharing the bed-covers, and I am filled with trepidation when serving her meals. I follow her orders as if they were imperial decrees, listening and obeying her every word. I strictly adhere to the teaching of "the wife sings and the husband follows." When she breaks into a scolding, the best strategy is to act dumb; when she flies into a rage, one might as well accompany it with a forced smile. I must report my departure like a mourning ape wailing at the moon and show my face upon return like an angry horse rushing to its trough.
How shocking it is that I, who usually possess a voice like a booming bell, cannot make a sound in front of my wife. How pathetic it is that even if I were in a state of grand fury, my expression would instantly change upon entering the bedroom. What is truly in my heart? There are indeed reasons for this. Furthermore, my lady often suffers from the "sorrow of gathering firewood" (illness), while I, her official, constantly dream of the "joy of succession" (bearing heirs).
The Intellectual Proletariat: From Late Ming Tutors to the AI Era
In the Late Ming Dynasty, a growing class of scholar-officials found themselves in a state of professional precariousness. Often failing to secure government positions, they turned to "private tutoring" (shushi) as a means of survival. This existence was defined by "finding a post" (miguan), a process reliant on fragile social credit and short-term contracts that rarely exceeded a single year. For these men, teaching was not a realization of their lofty Confucian ideals but a desperate strategy for "supporting one's studies through teaching" (jiduzisheng).
Today’s PhD graduates face a strikingly similar landscape. Much like the late Ming tutors, modern doctoral holders often find themselves in an "academic gig economy," moving between short-term post-doctoral fellowships and adjunct positions with little hope of tenure. The social credit once required to find a post has been replaced by hyper-competitive grant applications and publication metrics, yet the fundamental instability remains.
However, a new set of pressures complicates the modern intellectual's plight. While Ming tutors struggled with an oversupply of scholars, today’s educators face a shrinking demand due to plummeting birthrates in Western nations. With fewer students entering the pipeline, the traditional institutional roles for high-level intellectuals are evaporating. Simultaneously, the rise of Artificial Intelligence and advanced self-learning platforms is challenging the very necessity of a human mentor. Just as the late Ming tutor was forced to "flatter the student and the parent" to secure a post, modern academics find themselves competing not just with each other, but with algorithms that offer personalized, immediate, and infinitely scalable knowledge. The "Way of the Teacher" (shidao), already perceived to be in decline during the Ming, now faces a structural obsolescence in a world where the seeker of knowledge can bypass the master entirely