The autumn wind of September swept across the campus, and the autumn sun crowned everyone’s head with a faint halo of light.

Tie Ci stood atop the teaching building of Da Qian Academy, looking down at the students happily rushing toward the cafeteria below, remembering the cafeteria she had first seen at Yueli Academy—it felt like a lifetime ago.

Looking toward the direction outside campus, she could see that the area beyond the school was also bustling. Countless vendors had gathered, forming a long street outside the academy with comprehensive functions including dining, sundries, entertainment, and lodging.

The academy had thus provided many employment opportunities for the surrounding people, driving prosperity throughout the entire western part of the city.

This year, Shen Mi became the supervisor of Celu Academy, but since the old dean basically didn’t manage affairs, he was essentially the dean. Under his leadership, Celu Academy also began to align with Da Qian Academy, reforming its academic system, regularly sending teachers and students for exchanges, and signing direct supply agreements with the court for outstanding students.

Mingquan Academy, due to the twin incident that year, had never recovered and recently merged with Yueli Academy. Yueli Academy’s scale expanded twofold, continuously expanding construction and occupying most of Qingyang Mountain.

In July this year, a group of Da Qian Academy students entered various government offices for internships and, with their practical approach, earned widespread praise.

At the same time, Tie Ci also ordered that civil officials below the third rank in the capital take turns serving temporarily at various academies.

On the high building, Tie Ci’s gaze fell on a group of young women walking out of the teaching building with books in their arms.

Among them was a snow-white skinned girl who walked while listening to her companions speak, occasionally smiling faintly.

Tie Ci smiled slightly.

Seeing Dan Shuang adapting well here, she felt relieved.

There was an envy in her eyes that even she hadn’t noticed.

Dan Shuang suddenly seemed to sense something and looked up.

But she only saw an empty balcony.

Tie Ci, who had already stepped aside, returned to the room where Yun Buci, wearing frameless glasses and eating grapes, said without looking up: “Envious? If you’re envious, come to school. Otherwise, be a lecturer and say whatever you want, experience the feeling of university.”

Tie Ci smiled: “How could I have that time?”

Yun Buci said dismissively: “This is what’s bad about you feudal emperors—too much desire for power, wanting to grasp everything in your hands, making all decisions unilaterally. Treating the realm as a family business, seeking imperial rule for ten thousand years. Don’t you think—if a family rules the realm, what if this family produces an idiot? Power is like a fierce tiger, like a blade’s edge. It can’t always be held by one person. It should be returned to the people, to collective wisdom, and be subject to effective supervision—only then will the country be good.”

Tie Ci was silent for a while, then said: “Constitutional monarchy? Democratic republic? Socialist system?”

Yun Buci slapped her thigh: “Wouldn’t that be good?”

Tie Ci frowned: “The time is not right. We cannot encourage growth by pulling up seedlings.”

“At any time, touching the interests of vested interest groups will meet fierce resistance, leading to social unrest,” Yun Buci said. “But revolution should not fear bloodshed and sacrifice.”

Tie Ci said: “It’s not merely because of the interests of the noble class. More importantly, social unrest would affect people’s livelihood. Da Qian has just recovered from a devastating upheaval that severely damaged our national strength. Beyond our borders, foreign enemies still eye us covetously. As Master said, productivity hasn’t developed to the point where reform is urgently needed. Now is not the time.”

Yun Buci was silent for a while, then said something in a low voice that Tie Ci didn’t catch clearly, looking at her questioningly.

Yun Buci paid no attention and pulled out a paper scroll from her chest: “I didn’t say we had to make a big fuss about it. We could start by trying small-scale experiments.”

Tie Ci opened what seemed like a casually written scroll, first noticing the particularly fine and fluid handwriting that no brush could produce.

Then she looked at the content—item by item, more than ten items in total.

After reading just a few items, her brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

Yun Buci had been seemingly casually watching her expression and raised an eyebrow at this sight.

Tie Ci slowly finished reading, took a breath, and said: “Grand Tutor, this is inappropriate.”

She directly used Yun Buci’s official title—this was entering the format of formal court discussion. Yet Yun Buci remained leisurely, sitting cross-legged, eating grapes, not looking up: “What’s inappropriate about it?”

“Nationalizing all land and conducting unified redistribution will inevitably provoke full retaliation from landlords and powerful families. They are wealthy and influential, controlling most of Da Qian’s resources. Once they unite in full retaliation, economic collapse will happen in an instant.”

“That’s why I proposed monetary reform afterward—forcibly reset everyone’s wealth to zero and start over. What would they use to make trouble then?”

“How can monetary policy be reformed at will? Once reformed, the first victims wouldn’t be these powerful nobles, but the common people. After currency reset, the powerful would still have many assets, farmland, and workshops that can continuously produce—many channels to obtain money. But most affected would be those with no assets, only the small change in their hands, waiting to use that money to buy rice for their next meal. When we tell them their money is useless, have you considered how desperate they’ll be?”

“But that would only be temporary. We could help them. We’d abolish the slave system so people wouldn’t be enslaved. I also proposed land distribution to households and increased agricultural and commercial subsidies. The vast majority—common people and merchants—would benefit. They would support us. Their support would be broad support. What would that small handful of powerful nobles matter?”

“You propose confiscating the family assets of landlords who won’t surrender land and slaves, making them slaves themselves—wouldn’t this increase the number of slaves? Distributing land, giving money, increasing subsidies—it sounds very useful and would certainly gain massive and widespread support short-term. But total social wealth hasn’t increased. Short-term massive expenditures would accelerate treasury depletion, ultimately leading to fiscal collapse. Once finances collapse, people’s livelihood and military preparedness would inevitably be affected. What about foreign invasion then? What about common people who tasted sweetness then suddenly fell into the abyss, becoming even more angry and rebellious?”

“What you’re predicting are extreme phenomena that won’t necessarily occur.”

“Can you guarantee such phenomena definitely won’t occur? Can you guarantee that when the new policies are implemented, those lower-level officials executing them won’t muddy the waters, line their own pockets, and take advantage of the opportunity to exploit and oppress the people, completely ruining some originally decent policies and causing people’s lives to become unbearable? Your new policies would inevitably delegate much power downward and, due to complete unfamiliarity, would inevitably create many new problems during implementation due to incompatibility, and we have no experience…”

“Who has experience from the start? Experience comes from lessons learned.”

“But can Da Qian afford the lessons? The throne beneath me is not merely a dragon-and-phoenix carved imperial seat, but the vast territory under my rule and the millions of people on that territory. I received this throne from the late emperor not to use our Da Qian’s territory and people for experiments that aren’t yet timely!”

Yun Buci suddenly looked up at Tie Ci.

Tie Ci closed her eyes, and after a long moment bowed: “Forgive me, Grand Tutor. I was too agitated.”

Yun Buci squinted, looking her up and down: “I haven’t seen you this agitated in a long time. You’re a child raised under my modern education. I thought you would actively support my ideas, but I didn’t expect you to be so resistant. Can’t all I taught you before compare to the attraction of power?”

Tie Ci was silent for a while, then said softly: “Master, you also taught me to take responsibility for everything that belongs to me. This Da Qian, this realm, these people—they are currently all I have.”

“Moreover, current social problems in Da Qian aren’t that severe. Since I ascended the throne, I’ve strictly managed officials and don’t allow arbitrary buying and selling of people. I’ve reduced commercial taxes and abolished many miscellaneous taxes. Land annexation has been continuously curbed. I’ve been working hard to establish a stable, harmonious society where everyone has support. Of course, injustice will still exist and won’t disappear short-term, but can you guarantee that the reformed society you envision will definitely eliminate all injustice and definitely not breed other injustices?”

“Treating serious illness requires strong medicine—we can’t be hesitant!”

“Reform should always start from people’s livelihood and reality, should proceed gradually and carefully, one thing at a time, one matter at a time, prescribing appropriate medicine according to time and place. We can’t kill ourselves with wild punches before we succeed!”

…

The room fell silent. After a moment, Yun Buci sighed, threw the grape skins along with unfinished grapes into the trash bin with a clatter, patted her sticky hands, and smiled.

Tie Ci stood to one side. After a moment of silence, she said: “Master, I once said something that I want to repeat for you now. I agree with your advanced concepts, but I believe this thinking hasn’t reached the point where it should be deliberately promoted. Because under the imperial power cultural system, emphasizing and spreading such thinking is meaningless. Da Qian has its own regulatory systems inherited from antiquity—that is the soil where Da Qian takes root and grows. Millennial culture, Confucian ethics, ruler-subject relationships, aristocratic politics—specific thinking needs mature times and productive forces to nurture it. The era hasn’t developed to that point yet. The people and entire society still lack an adaptation period. Such thinking would be a tree without roots, water without source, only causing confusion and social disorder…”

Yun Buci listened quietly, then suddenly interrupted: “You couldn’t have brought this up for no reason. Who have you discussed such topics with?”

Tie Ci paused. After a long moment, she said: “Your focus is rather strange.”

Yun Buci fell silent, picking the grapes back out of the trash bin while remaining silent, kneading and squeezing them in her hands, no longer acknowledging Tie Ci, and walked away as if no one else existed.

Tie Ci bowed slightly to see her off, not straightening up until she left the room.

Only after Yun Buci’s shuffling footsteps disappeared did she straighten her back. Her expression remained calm as she pulled out the tea leaves she had brought for her master today from her chest, gently placed them on the table, turned, and walked out.

The inner room curtain moved, and Yun Buci emerged, followed by Senior Brother.

Yun Buci watched Tie Ci’s figure descending the stairs with hands behind her back—slender and tall, robe corners slightly moving, like a blooming black, graceful flower.

Having experienced an unprecedented dispute, she still appeared calm.

An emperor is like an abyss.

Behind her, Senior Brother sighed: “Junior Sister has grown up.”

Yun Buci shrugged.

“Everyone thinks she has such insight because you raised and taught her. But we know that when she was young, you gave her various modern education, but some books you never let her touch. For example, discussions on politics, philosophy, economics—some relationships between reform and development, discussions of drawbacks, famous failed reform examples in history and events they triggered.” Senior Brother shook his head with some admiration. “You opened her wisdom but also left her limitations. Yet she still relied on her own clear mind and far-sighted insight to see the enormous hidden risks behind reform and the natural incompatibility that exists when transplanting to ancient times, even predicting possible situations with eight or nine parts accuracy… For an ancient person, that’s truly remarkable.”

Yun Buci pushed her glasses, remaining noncommittal.

“Those who don’t know might think she traveled back from Wang Mang’s era.”

“Unexpected yet within expectations.” Yun Buci pulled out a small black box from her chest. Green numbers flashed and jumped on it—the numbers looked large, but each jump decreased them. Yun Buci stared at the numbers, frowning.

“Little Ci was essentially raised by me. I understand her and am reluctant to part with her.” She sighed. “If not for this… who would be willing to do such foolish things?”

…