“This old man has brought the entire court’s civil and military officials to Great Qian Academy to demonstrate our sincerity,” He Zi said earnestly. “We are willing to accept the Grand Tutor and her subordinates’ residence in the capital, and provide your people with legal identity, comfortable lodging, exquisite food, and everything needed for daily life. If your side needs protection and trusts us sufficiently, we can also provide you with guards. In short, we will treat your side as honored guests, serving you all with the highest ceremonial protocols of our Celestial Empire.”
Yun Buci raised one eyebrow high and dug at her ear.
“Grand Tutor, let’s not discuss whether you’re certain what we actually need. I’ll just ask you this,” Yun Buci said even more earnestly. “In doing this, does your Emperor agree?”
“This is precisely my Emperor’s intention,” He Zi handed over the letter. “His Majesty left a personal letter for you.”
Yun Buci glanced at the envelope. “It’s poisoned, isn’t it?”
He Zi smiled openly and tore off the first layer of envelope, tossing it away.
The envelope happened to land in Yun Buci’s teacup, and the good tea immediately turned an eerie purple—clearly undrinkable now.
The second layer was another identical envelope, which He Zi handed over without shame.
Yun Buci still didn’t take it. “My hand is paralyzed. Open it for me.”
He Zi then opened the letter. Just as he opened the second envelope, a poisonous insect jumped out, writhing as it scurried away.
All the officials: “…”
He Zi remained completely unfazed, his face full of sincerity. “The Grand Tutor is amused. His Majesty said he couldn’t fool the Grand Tutor, just wanted to play a joke with you. After all, such opportunities will be fewer and fewer from now on.”
Yun Buci slightly lowered her eyes and smiled without answering.
Indeed, Tie Ci’s action was just a joke.
She never expected to actually poison her, nor would she plan to poison her at this time.
But this joke was malicious.
It was telling her: if you are heartless, I will be even more heartless.
From now on, all past kindness is canceled, the master-disciple relationship is severed, and when we meet again, it will be a fight to the death.
The third layer was finally letter paper, but there was a lot written—several thick sheets.
Because the characters were very large, the first sheet was almost entirely taken up by “Letter to Lady Historian Yun Buci,” with the second sentence “Zhen has one matter…” only half complete.
Since the words weren’t finished, naturally she had to look further, but when Yun Buci tried to turn the page, she found the papers were stuck together.
The water in the teacup was already poisoned, so naturally couldn’t be used. Being a casual person, she pinched the paper pages and instinctively reached toward her mouth.
Just before her fingertip touched her lips.
She suddenly stopped.
After a pause, she slowly raised her head to look at He Zi, at this group of Great Qian’s important ministers before her.
This group of people all had calm expressions, some even looking back with slight confusion.
He Zi looked at her with eyes that were sincere with slight puzzlement, as if he truly didn’t know what was in this letter and was waiting for her to finish reading.
Yun Buci felt like laughing a little.
All thousand-year-old foxes pretending to be innocent.
But she truly couldn’t laugh.
The letter writer was a disciple she had raised with her own hands.
The people across from her were colleagues she had worked with for years, usually on good terms.
In her hand was a letter from her good disciple, delivered by colleagues—a letter poisoned again and again and again, poisoned with deep scheming.
Yun Buci looked down at the letter but couldn’t read it for a moment.
Before and after the incident, she had imagined the consequences many times and wasn’t unprepared psychologically.
But when reality truly struck before her eyes, she realized all imagination had been too thin.
Human hearts were like the sea, like an abyss, but twenty years of time, half a lifetime of connection—even if it produced an iron-stone heart, that iron would bear engraved marks, that stone would carry wind and frost.
Perhaps this was the real “letter” Tie Ci wanted her to see.
To see where people’s hearts turned, to see her disciples and colleagues, to see the Great Qian she had also dedicated half her life to.
She had walked here, run here, had laughter and tears, fired at high-ranking people and given porridge to the poor.
Though an otherworldly person, she had been in the world for many years. She had breathed every inch of Great Qian’s air, and every street corner of the capital bore the mark of Gui Qizhai.
Yun Buci’s fingers applied slight force and lifted the second sheet of paper.
As expected, there was no earnest plea, no emotional appeal, no logical argument in a long essay.
Only a few large characters.
“Are you sacred, or are you a beast?”
Many years ago, also in such an autumn with mountains full of red maples, a self-proclaimed nun who had never formally taken vows—a bald woman—held a little girl’s hand, walking on a mountain path dyed with layers of forest colors.
“Humans exist between gods and beasts, sometimes inclining toward one type, sometimes toward another. Some people become increasingly sacred, some become beasts, most maintain the middle way,” the bald woman taught.
The little girl listened quietly, then suddenly asked, “Master, do you want to be sacred, or a beast, or an ordinary person?”
“Being an ordinary person is perhaps a kind of blessing,” the bald woman said. “But with my qualifications, I’m afraid I can’t escape having to be sacred.”
The little girl smiled. “Master, you saved me—you are sacred in my heart. You said you would help the people of Great Qian in the future, help us become a stronger and more civilized country. You will also become sacred in the hearts of all Great Qian’s people.”
The bald woman chuckled.
Through wind and rain and flowing years, those words still echoed.
Today, she came to ask her.
Across from her, He Zi said, “His Majesty asks the Grand Tutor: are the lives of Great Qian’s people lives?”
“His Majesty asks the Grand Tutor: you speak constantly of democracy and equality, but in your heart, do you truly see Great Qian’s people as equals?”
“His Majesty asks the Grand Tutor: do you remember what you said about human life having no distinction of noble and base, freedom being equally precious throughout the world?”
“His Majesty asks the Grand Tutor: do you truly believe your goals and actions are noble and just?”
No, of course not.
So I’ve been working hard, trying to make you and your people peacefully accept us, so that we would also peacefully bring you under our wing and lead you toward civilization.
I just failed.
“His Majesty says, if you cannot answer these questions, then please recall these twenty years—think of who smiled at you after you gave porridge, who placed their own radishes and cabbage at your door, who wanted to acknowledge you as a godmother because you saved their life, who voluntarily became long-term workers for Gui Qizhai because of your kindness. The people of Great Qian and the capital received your grace, but they also supported you. Great Qian’s scholars and students received your education, but they also supported you with their faith. His Majesty says, please, for the sake of this encounter, preserve the innocent and do not massacre.”
Yun Buci flipped through the stack of mostly blank papers in her hand, rocking in her chair without saying a word.
“No!” came a resolute voice as Rui strode out.
He was a pale-faced middle-aged man with prominent brows, and under those brows were narrow eyes flashing with cold light. “Who’s negotiating with you? Who’s cooperating with you? Who needs your offerings? And what qualifications do you have to negotiate with us?”
He turned to Yun Buci. “Yun, you wouldn’t be foolishly soft-hearted, would you!”
He turned back to He Zi, looking him up and down, then sneered. “I think my first proposal was correct.”
He raised his hand.
“Wait,” Yun Buci said. “One of the diplomatic principles the Management Division has held for thousands of years: when two countries are at war, don’t kill the envoys.”
“What kind of envoys are they? And how can Great Qian be considered a country that can dialogue with us as equals…”
“We are the most prosperous country on this continent,” He Zi interrupted him this time, not only not retreating but taking a step forward.
“We have the most wise and powerful ruler. She alone escaped safely from your terrible weapons and shameless sneak attacks, and destroyed many of your weapons.”
“We also have the most loyal ministers. So loyal that the Emperor dares to leave the capital to them and depart alone. We may have factional struggles and internal conflicts, but before national disaster, we always unite as one, with generals and ministers dedicating their lives until death.”
“We also have the most passionate and fearless people. The crowd in the moat like dumplings in boiling water is enough to tell you this.”
“We also control all of the capital—food, drinking water, supplies, transportation… everything related to people’s livelihood. Since you’ve come, you must live in the capital and need to eat and drink, right?”
“We have the most advanced technology and supplies,” Rui said coldly. “One small piece of our dry rations can last a week. We can also provide soldiers with nutrient solutions in various flavors. You probably don’t understand such advanced things as nutrient solutions—small tubes, portable, and after drinking, you can go three days without eating, drinking, or sleeping, and they’re not easily contaminated by various bacteria and viruses like your food.”
The ministers listened as if hearing fairy tales, their hearts sinking continuously. They couldn’t quite understand what this person was saying, but they could confirm that the enemy was truly much more powerful than them.
Grand Academician Gu licked his lips, thinking if they could steal one tube of this nutrient solution and research the formula, then there would be no more hunger in the world.
Minister Zhang, who knew his character well, whispered in his ear, “What are you thinking? If these disgusting things really had no worries about anything, would they need to stoop to seizing our Great Qian territory?”
The officials suddenly understood.
He Zi wasn’t moved by Rui’s words at all, squinting and smiling. “Yes, you’re very capable and self-sufficient. But can liquid things, even if made to taste like bird’s nest and bear paw, compare to real, hot, steaming bird’s nest and bear paw? Your soldiers came to Great Qian thinking they could feast or celebrate wildly, but still ended up gnawing dry rations and drinking bland nutrient solutions while watching us eat meat and drink wine. Won’t they feel even a little dissatisfied?”
Rui’s face, flat as a board, suddenly twitched.
These ancient people were really formidable.
Such sharp insight and eloquence.
They called it a low-level civilization, but those who could rise to the top in a low-level civilization were indeed not simple characters.
“Our Great Qian may not be worthy in your eyes, but it’s another kind of prosperity. Your people here, because relations aren’t harmonious, not only can’t see Great Qian’s scenery or eat Great Qian’s delicacies, but must constantly face our hostility and stay alert, unable to enjoy food or sleep peacefully. Are you certain your pampered soldiers can accept such days?”
Rui’s lips moved slightly.
The enemy was very clever, guessing they were pampered. Both right and wrong.
Regarding their civilization, compared to these ancient people who didn’t even have electricity, they were naturally pampered.
But for nearly a hundred years, as humans unrestrictedly plundered and destroyed planetary resources, with extreme climate, resource scarcity, reduced vegetation, ocean pollution… human living environments became increasingly harsh, energy to maintain daily life became increasingly scarce, yet weapons became increasingly advanced, triggering endless wars. Cities became ruins, roads were cut everywhere, green mountains and clear waters became white mountains and black waters. Countless people fired guns over a mouthful of food, population dropped sharply, soldiers gradually withered away, and all former brightness and prosperity was covered in dust amid widespread calamity.
The forward path was cut off—they could only backtrack. The Management Division proposed the “Pure Land Plan.” Countless scientists concentrating humanity’s top wisdom developed machines that could select and backtrack through spacetime, but the selection was random, with the final landing point in Great Qian.
To make this land better suited for future humans, Yun Buci volunteered to come twenty years early to pave the way.
Ideological indoctrination and consciousness control of a land began with raising the emperor.
That spacetime environment was becoming increasingly harsh with fewer and fewer survival opportunities, so they had to tear through space and arrive early before everything was fully prepared.
Even so, people from the future held absolute confidence in victory, since the time span and technological level differences between them were too great—like airplanes and cannons against primitive savages.
So when the soldiers arrived, they didn’t expect to fight—they were prepared to come touring.
Now, however great the hope, that’s how great the disappointment.
Rui wasn’t unaware of the soldiers’ emotions, but hadn’t figured out how to solve it. Perhaps he was also secretly waiting in his heart, thinking your Great Qian’s soft resistance—when my people get impatient and start shooting with a burst of gunfire, you’ll have to cooperate.
But before the soldiers exploded with gunfire, Great Qian’s ministers came knocking.
Rui irritably rubbed his brow.
He Zi continued pressing step by step: “This old man thinks you also don’t want the current state to continue. You don’t want your soldiers to mutiny, do you?”
Yun Buci suddenly said, “I agree.”
“From now on, there won’t be another massacre like at the moat. We can even protect the safety of the capital’s people.”
Rui shouted angrily, “Yun!”
“But we need you to restore normal order, need you to open all venues, including all vital departments like military supplies, granaries, and machinery. We need you to open imperial and Six Ministries secret archives, present all of Great Qian’s materials involving mineral deposits, storage, military distribution, road transportation, relay stations, military rosters, national registers… and so on, including but not limited to all information on economic, military, and livelihood aspects. And wherever we station troops, you may not refuse our people’s joint stationing.”
He Zi answered immediately without thinking, “Impossible. This old man doesn’t have that authority.”
“Then go find someone with that authority to make decisions.”
“The person who can make decisions has already been forced out of the capital by you,” He Zi said mildly. “Grand Tutor, when being human, leave three parts of leeway.”
Yun Buci was silent for a moment, then said, “Then at minimum we must have the capital’s military distribution and related materials. We need you to open all venues in the capital. Restore the capital’s economic order. We need Great Qian’s people to maintain friendly attitudes toward us and not cause trouble in any way.”
She paused. “Otherwise, if soldiers are provoked, we can’t prevent another moat massacre.”
He Zi readily said, “Deal.”
Yun Buci looked deeply at him.
With the matter settled, He Zi seemed in a very good mood and unusually praised Yun Buci: “The Grand Tutor is truly wise and decisive.”
Yun Buci chuckled, looked around, and muttered, “Success should be celebrated with fine wine, but unfortunately there’s no wine now…” After thinking, she casually took two nutrient solutions, handing one to He Zi. “In that case, let’s celebrate with this. A word once spoken cannot be taken back.”
He Zi’s expression moved slightly as he took the nutrient solution, curiously pinching the plastic packaging. Learning from Yun Buci, he tore open the seal and, under Grand Academician Gu’s burning expectant gaze, tilted his head back and drank the nutrient solution.
A moment later.
He Zi spat out the nutrient solution in one gulp, and even the half tube he had originally wanted to hide in his sleeve at Grand Academician Gu’s request fell into the dust.
Yun Buci’s cheerful laughter rang out in the command center.
Another moment later, He Zi walked outside Great Qian Academy with a green face, slapping his thigh. “A loss!”
“If I’d known this stuff tasted so awful, I should have demanded several more conditions from her!”
Beside him, Chi Xue clutched a small box in her hand, thinking of the results of her private chat with Yun Buci after the negotiations.
She thought silently: actually, we got quite a lot.
…
This day, the umbrella-holder on Qingyang Mountain waited for the person he had been waiting for.
This day, Tie Ci lifted the carriage curtain and saw in the distance, on the mountainside of the towering green mountain, the person under the umbrella waving.
Tie Ci couldn’t help but smile.
At the foot of the mountain, Rong Pu watched the carriage approach unhurriedly, and about a li behind the carriage, in mid-air, a swarm of black machines buzzed like locusts, covering the sky.
Further away, dust clouds could be vaguely seen on the road, wrapping around faintly visible shiny objects moving extremely fast, but somehow never catching up.
The driver was a pig-woman dragon, lying on the carriage shaft. Every so often, its tail would lazily swat the horse’s rear, driving the carriage with quite a rhythm.
The academy had built a new road so carriages could drive directly up to the academy’s memorial arch halfway up the mountain.
Yueli Academy was now also deserted, with students arranged elsewhere.
The carriage drove straight in until it stopped before the independent courtyard where Tie Ci had once lived. The curtain lifted to reveal a group of people tumbled about inside.
A’kou’s glasses were crooked, the tiger lay on the cushion snoring, Buqing hugged his head sleeping in a corner with his arm apparently burned—half his tattoos were gone. Jingxu rubbed his old waist with a bitter expression, and Pingzong finally emerged carrying Tie Ci on her back, making Rong Pu’s pupils contract.
“Is His Majesty injured?”
“Minor injury,” Tie Ci answered.
Pingzong said irritably, “It’s a minor injury, but one that won’t heal.”
Rong Pu glanced at Tie Ci and hurriedly ordered several specially selected female students to come serve. The female students had been waiting before the small courtyard, having received orders from the headmaster earlier to wait at the courtyard for what they thought was just a common reception task. Who would have thought the carriage top was hung with snakes, the driver was a crocodile, scorpions and giant geckos hung from the windows, and a yellow-and-black striped frog croaked once and crawled away with eyes straight ahead.
Several female students, all chosen for being bold, careful, and excellent, were still scared weak in the knees, so much so that they didn’t hear Rong Pu’s “Your Majesty.”
Just seeing someone being carried out, they hurried forward to help, only to see their own headmaster taking three steps in two, extending both hands as if to personally carry the person.
The female students’ eyes dropped all over the ground in shock.
Their headmaster usually had a friendly attitude and wasn’t cold, but after all, he was born noble. His gentleness always contained three parts of distance, and toward women especially, he strictly observed propriety and ritual, never getting close, making him admirable from afar but not approachable. Students both loved and respected him without daring any impropriety.
But the headmaster was outstanding in bearing, exceptionally talented and handsome, young yet holding third rank, deeply favored by the Emperor. Such a figure inevitably appeared in many girls’ spring dreams, and dormitory late-night talks couldn’t help but revolve around the young headmaster.
Only everyone knew about that famous unrequited love, so they didn’t dare harbor thoughts, but hearing that His Majesty had refused the headmaster’s marriage proposal, they couldn’t help speculating which noble lady would eventually benefit from such a man.
However, today, the headmaster who always maintained distance from women was personally welcoming and wanting to personally care for someone.
Who was this person?
The female students couldn’t see Tie Ci’s face, but seeing a young woman carrying her with slender fingertips showing, they naturally assumed it was a woman. Though Tie Ci wore men’s clothing, in recent years, due to the Emperor’s male attire fashion, many Great Qian women liked wearing men’s clothes—it had almost become a trend, so much so that many men complained they accidentally thought they were cut-sleeves.
Tie Ci didn’t notice others’ gazes, raising her hand from Pingzong’s back to indicate it wasn’t necessary.
Rong Pu’s gaze fell on her fingers—splinted and slightly deformed, clearly bone injuries.
He lowered his eyes, looking at the weary group, and said softly, “Hot water is prepared, and food is ready. I just didn’t expect the Mo clan’s poisonous beasts were also here. I’ll have people arrange more…” He led the way as he spoke.
Several female students approached, saying gently, “Miss, are you tired? Let us help,” wanting to take over carrying Tie Ci.
Tie Ci raised her head. She had been traveling and fighting continuously, her spirit somewhat scattered. Her hazy vision swept over the women before her who smiled with slight shyness, then suddenly paused.
For that instant, she was slightly confused, then her eyes cleared and she lowered her lashes.
She smiled, “No need to trouble you all.”
The young women looked at her face, somewhat dazed. Though the person before them looked somewhat haggard and disheveled, her temperament was gentle and warm like beautiful jade, constantly radiant. Being looked at by such gentle, calm eyes, each person felt some stirring emotions arise in their hearts, yet didn’t know why they were stirred.
Ahead, Rong Pu looked back at Tie Ci, not missing the darkness that flashed through her eyes.
She was looking at these students and thinking of Jian Xi.
Tie Ci lay on Pingzong’s back, chatting continuously with the female students walking alongside.
“Thank you for asking—our studies aren’t burdensome. We have the same curriculum as the men’s academy, with martial arts as elective subjects. There are also courses in music, chess, calligraphy, painting, and even embroidery, depending on personal choice.”
“In last year’s academy exams, two of the top three were women.”
“Maybe next year’s spring examinations will produce a female top scholar and second place. In the second year of Zhiming, His Majesty issued an edict allowing women to participate in imperial examinations and serve as officials alongside men. For women from poor families who study, the government provides assistance and subsidies. Our academy suddenly gained many female students. We’re not boasting, but our achievements are no worse than the men’s—excellent female students might even outnumber the men.”
“The headmaster and professors treat us very well. One or two professors who weren’t fair were quickly dismissed.”
“Suddenly we got autumn break—the headmaster said there were urgent drills and everyone went to the back mountain.”
“We volunteered to come. The headmaster said there would be danger, but we’re not afraid.”
“Our role model is Third-Rank Female Official Jian Xi from Chongming Palace. If I could one day serve beside His Majesty, that would be wonderful.”
Pingzong stopped walking.
Ahead, Rong Pu turned back again, about to say something, but was stopped by Tie Ci’s gaze.
He heard her say lightly, “But beside His Majesty is the most dangerous place.”
“We’re not afraid,” the female students laughed happily. “When His Majesty was Crown Prince, she went through so many life-and-death difficulties. Though we’re not worthy to compare with His Majesty, we hope to follow in that courageous spirit.”
The small courtyard’s door stood open, with a table of steaming hot dishes waiting. Pingzong cheered and quickened her pace.
Before entering, Tie Ci reached out to pat the shoulder of the nearest student.
“Zhen believes you will be as brave and fearless as Jian Xi.”
In the courtyard, Rong Pu personally ladled a bowl of soup. “Your Majesty, your favorite mushroom and three-delicacy soup.”
The small courtyard’s door slowly closed, blocking the students’ dumbstruck faces.
Then came suppressed cheers and irrepressible excited voices from outside.
Pingzong pursed her lips, set Tie Ci down, and touched her face, thinking: I’m also a princess and a grandmaster, radiating royal and martial aura too. How is it that when I’m with the Emperor, everyone can’t see me?
But this philosophical question instantly vanished when she saw the food on the table. She cheered and pounced forward, tearing off a bright red duck leg to gnaw on, while A’kou had long since sat at the table, silently burying his head in eating.
Jingxu seized the best position, pulling all three plates of famous local specialties to himself, his beard soaking in the soup without noticing.
Buqing grabbed a leg of lamb and went to sit on the roof—archers all liked sitting in high places.
Tie Ci sat down last, appearing steady but actually glancing at the pot of fragrant, thick glutinous rice porridge.
Each person had their own way of showing hunger, making Rong Pu’s heart tighten. He said nothing and sat down to ladle porridge for Tie Ci.
Suddenly the door banged open as someone swept in like wind.
Rong Pu’s pupils contracted. Though his small courtyard seemed unguarded, it was actually protected by the most elite guards at the perimeter. Besides the few students waiting outside to serve, even the vice-headmaster couldn’t casually enter.
The person standing at the door wore full armor, travel-worn, and seeing a group of people in the small courtyard holding duck legs, gnawing meat, and carrying porridge bowls all looking at him, his anxious expression turned to embarrassment.
But Tie Ci recognized him and smiled, “Deputy General Huang? Long time no see. How did you come? Has your Yannan Navy also sent people? Come, come in and have a bowl of porridge first, then we’ll talk.”
Her warm invitation made Deputy General Huang’s expression gradually strange. He suddenly bowed, “Greetings to Your Majesty. Your Majesty is well. I came leading the Yannan Navy to protect Your Majesty. But I wasn’t intentionally rude just now—I was kicked in here…”
As he spoke, he stepped back, retreating while calling out, “Grand Marshal, confirmed—His Majesty is here. You told me not to say you came personally, but I can’t deceive the Emperor. Whatever you want to say, say it to His Majesty yourself!”