When it came to elemental power, even monarchs had to proceed with utmost caution. After much consideration, she still felt there was room for maneuver in this matter. As the saying goes, “All the world’s hustle and bustle is for profit.” The common people were always the most pragmatic group; only by appealing to their interests could this matter be accomplished.

People only remain aloof from matters that don’t concern them. She had to make everyone feel that Wei Kingdom’s sixty million taels of compensation affected them personally, rather than being distant and unattainable.

To amplify this feeling, the most direct and effective method was, of course, for the nation to raise taxes. Conveniently, the war at the southwestern border provided a legitimate reason for tax increases. This way, the people would have to consider, from their practical perspective, the balance and trade-offs between hatred and benefit.

After all, living people need to eat, marry, and raise children; they cannot survive on hatred alone. Moreover, Wei Kingdom’s tens of millions of taels had a pleasing title—”compensation”—implying “money that rightfully belongs to you.” Furthermore, New Xia ultimately did not ally with the Wei Kingdom, but merely signed an agreement establishing diplomatic relations, with mutual recognition but non-interference and non-aggression.

The signing of this agreement was within the people’s tolerance threshold, so everyone immediately breathed a sigh of relief, feeling that this arrangement wasn’t so bad after all. Elemental power even surged significantly as a result.

But if there hadn’t been all these preparations beforehand, had the royal court dared to present the agreement and accept the compensation right from the start, the people would have denounced the Queen and Fu Lingchuan for three lifetimes, accusing them of surrendering sovereignty and national dignity, of forgetting their ancestors. Instead of the current situation, where elemental power continued to rise steadily.

So, methods were important, and a step-by-step approach was crucial.

When the dust had settled and Fu Lingchuan and Feng Miaojun sat down to share a pot of celebratory wine, he couldn’t help but remark: “This matter went smoothly, thanks to your idea.”

Feng Miaojun gently swirled the wine in her cup, smiling without speaking.

Today they were drinking the fine wine newly offered as tribute by the Puling Kingdom—fragrant upon entry with a lingering aftertaste. Feng Miaojun made no special effort to suppress the effects of the alcohol; her face flushed becomingly, her phoenix eyes half-closed, her gaze flowing with a captivating softness.

Such breathtaking beauty was refreshing even just to admire; Fu Lingchuan couldn’t count how many times his heart had skipped a beat. But despite having drunk quite a bit himself, he remembered that almost all the recent turmoil had been instigated by the beauty before him.

She truly wasn’t afraid of making waves. Take the tax reform—throughout history, rulers had always been cautious, repeatedly testing the waters, fearing political upheaval. Yet she had deliberately done the opposite, seeking precisely that effect!

Changle was right. In New Xia, a nation bound by outdated conventions yet in need of comprehensive renewal, destruction must precede construction.

“Changle, you’re truly bold,” he couldn’t help but sigh. “Weren’t you afraid of unexpected changes, the situation taking a sharp turn for the worse?” The two of them had defied convention; the path was fraught with pitfalls, and one misstep could have left them mired in disgrace.

Major policies were often like this, frequently not going according to plan and leading to uncontrollable consequences.

Thinking back now, he had always been steady and cautious—how had he agreed to join her in stirring up such trouble?

Feng Miaojun giggled: “At the founding of New Xia, how much worse could things get? At worst, we’d dissolve into scattered fragments again, and then it would be up to cousin to rebuild the nation once more.”

Fu Lingchuan shook his head helplessly: “You’re being reckless! Do you know I received several confidential reports stating that a few generals in the northwest and southwest were extremely dissatisfied, and there was a possibility they might take the opportunity to rebel?”

“Rebel?” Feng Miaojun’s smile faded as she picked up a piece of lotus-wrapped crab with her chopsticks. “Where would they turn? Kingdom and Jin have allied with New Xia, and the Wei Kingdom has shown goodwill. Who could support them? They lack the conditions for rebellion.”

With power, troops, and territory, declaring independence wouldn’t be difficult. The problem was that New Xia possessed the Ji instrument. These generals who wanted independence would need one too; otherwise, they would be swallowed up in an instant.

So while implementing the new policy seemed risky, both Feng Miaojun and Yun, who had proposed the alliance, believed it wouldn’t provoke rebellion. She also understood Fu Lingchuan’s concerns—the new policy affected too many people, creating too many variables, and potentially triggering unpredictable results.

After all, many disastrous outcomes often originate from good and pure intentions.

Fu Lingchuan smiled as well, a complex expression in his eyes. Was she just bold and willful, acting on wishful thinking, or had she truly calculated everything, anticipating all consequences?

Summer ended, and Fu Lingchuan quietly proceeded with the next step of his plan.

The agreement between New Xia and Wei Kingdom took effect, followed by a massive influx of money into the treasury. Combined with the tribute silver returned by Zhao Yun and the war reparations paid by the defeated Puling Kingdom, the royal court suddenly found itself with abundant resources and silver.

The royal troops and Fu Lingchuan’s private army immediately began to expand, recruiting soldiers and updating weaponry, their strength rapidly increasing. Several warlords in the eastern and northeastern regions, including General Hong, who was close to the royal court and the Queen, also received many benefits.

The royal court had been “transplanted” to Wuseier City for almost half a year now, adapting well and stimulating the city’s prosperity. Now all industries were flourishing, and the population had exploded to over five hundred thousand people, beginning to take on the appearance of a national capital.

Except for the coronation ceremony, Wuseier City had witnessed almost all major events since the establishment of New Xia. The city’s scale had repeatedly expanded, and apart from comprehensive replanning, the outer walls had been rebuilt under the pretext of renovation—this time with a full sixteen gates!

Anyone with discerning eyes could see that it was being built to the standards of a capital. Within New Xia’s borders, the only other city with sixteen gates was Lubo City.

After less than two months of peace, the royal court began to stir again, with many senior ministers once more proposing a return to Lubo City. Their foundations were all in the west; even if they relocated part of their businesses to Wuseier, it wasn’t as comfortable as being on home ground.

The Queen of New Xia, who had always maintained a gentle smile, was unusually firm this time as she announced in court:

The capital would be relocated!

When she spoke, Fu Lingchuan stood beside her with his hands behind his back, making it clear to everyone that this was also Fu Lingchuan’s decision.

The current political situation is entirely different from half a year ago.

After receiving compensation from the Wei Kingdom and Puling Kingdom, the central treasury and the Queen became particularly wealthy. The royal army and the northeastern noble families had expanded, becoming important military pillars supporting Feng Miaojun and Fu Lingchuan.

At this point, Fu Lingchuan was no longer the State Preceptor of earlier days who had to maneuver among the royal court ministers and appease the Western nobility.

With money and an army, one naturally speaks with confidence and stands tall.

So the royal house firmly overruled all opposition and resolutely moved the capital to Wuseier, officially transforming the former An Xia’s auxiliary capital into New Xia’s capital. In reality, it was just a ceremony and formality, as the entire administration had already been operating in Wuseier City.