He stood in the depths of mist, wandering aimlessly for who knows how long, until an extremely familiar voice came through.

“Bizhi, how do you interpret this passage?” With these words, the surrounding scenery became clear. He saw that person, dressed in noble dark robes, holding a bamboo scroll, standing on the platform of a pavilion. Sunlight bathed this person’s entire body, so dazzling that he could barely keep his eyes open and couldn’t see the person’s face clearly.

“What passage?” He heard himself ask slowly, lowering his eyes. Because even though he couldn’t see the other’s face, he could determine who this person was.

Apart from Fu Su, no one else would call him Bizhi so intimately.

Was he dreaming? In those distant years, he had often accompanied Fu Su, discussing scholarship together.

“The Master said: The people may be made to follow a path of action, but they may not be made to understand it.” The person looked at the bamboo scroll in his hands, reciting slowly.

“From the Analects, Tai Bo.” He wasn’t rushed to answer but asked in return, “How does Master interpret this passage?”

“Master’s interpretation is that this passage means people can be made to follow the path guided by superior intentions, without needing to let them know why.” After Fu Su finished speaking, he sighed lightly, “But I feel this interpretation is inappropriate.”

The Master that Fu Su spoke of was the great scholar Chunyu Yue. He stepped forward a few paces and saw the text on the bamboo scroll, written in elegant Qin seal script. However, the text of that time had no punctuation, and he couldn’t remember how he had responded then. Based only on his own thoughts, he said: “The punctuation should be wrong. I think this passage should be: The people may be made to follow; let them. They may not be made to understand; teach them.”

Fu Su’s eyes brightened, and he clapped his hands with the bamboo scroll, calling out: “Excellent! Regarding the people, if they can do something, let them do it. If they cannot handle it, teach them how to do it!”

He didn’t agree, only because such speculation wasn’t necessarily accurate. How to punctuate had become a field of study – either of the above interpretations could make sense, depending on how those in power chose to decide.

Back then, he was probably just as fortunate to have chosen to follow Fu Su. He just hadn’t expected that before the dream could be realized, it would already be shattered.

“Bizhi, you are truly my trusted minister. When I rule the realm, this position of Chancellor belongs to none but you…”

The vows of the past echoed in his ears like background music in a film, slowly fading away until they became inaudible.

The Boss opened his eyes and found he had actually fallen asleep lying on the Silent House counter.

This was truly a rare occurrence for him, because his current body rarely experienced the need for sleep.

Looking at the rabbit doll in front of him that he had used as a pillow, the Boss couldn’t help but poke it. The latter showed no reaction and was probably also sleeping. Feeling the air was slightly cool, the Boss looked up with a sense of something and saw heavy snow falling outside the window like goose feathers. For this southern city, this was something that happened once in decades. The Boss stared for a while longer, feeling disoriented in time and space, almost feeling he was still in a dream. After a long time, he remembered to add a few pieces of charcoal to the small red clay stove nearby and got up to move his somewhat stiff body.

Why had he dreamed of such distant events? It seemed he really had become obsessed with imperial antiques recently…

With a faint self-mocking smile on his lips, the Boss walked around the jade screen into the inner room.

The somewhat flattened rabbit doll struggled to get up, hopped and shook itself on the counter. The Doctor was satisfied to find he had returned to his round, plump appearance. Oh wait, his original body wasn’t that fat! The Doctor’s rabbit ears drooped as he looked at the flying snow outside, and his cute face actually showed a worried expression.

It was already near the end of the month, but the Boss hadn’t taken out any imperial antique to suppress the Heaven and Earth Formation.

Actually, saying there were none wasn’t accurate. The Doctor had seen the Boss take out that Wordless Stele, but perhaps because it had cracked in half, there was no reaction after burying it in the formation point. There was also that Four Seasons Painting – that painter who came daily to copy it had threatened with his life and wouldn’t let the Boss take it away. Damn it! That Four Seasons Painting wasn’t even his property! What right did he have to make such a fuss!

Using his stubby fingers that weren’t separated, the Doctor calculated repeatedly and found that nine imperial antiques had been used so far, meaning three more were still needed. Though the Silent House had many antiques, to produce twelve imperial-level antiques all at once was indeed stretching resources thin.

The Doctor, worried for the Boss, was getting increasingly agitated. Though the Boss appeared carefree on the surface, the Doctor had sensitively noticed something was wrong. Today the Boss had been absent-minded all along, actually falling asleep while daydreaming. Though he hadn’t slept long, such a thing happening to the Boss was very strange.

The rabbit doll rolled back and forth on the counter. When the Boss emerged from the inner room, he saw this cute scene and couldn’t help softening his expression.

“Eh? You’re going out?” The Doctor looked up and found the Boss had put on a gray wool coat over his red dragon robe, and was startled. This outfit was quite fashionable – not like the Boss’s usual taste!

“Mm, watch the house.” The Boss gave a simple instruction, but just as he was about to leave, he suddenly felt a slight weight on his shoulder. Turning his head, he saw the rabbit doll had jumped onto his shoulder, and due to using too much force, hadn’t stood steady and slid down his arm. Just as it was about to fall to the ground, the Boss’s finger barely caught the cotton coat, avoiding intimate contact between the latter and the floor.

“I want to go too!” The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief, letting himself dangle in midair.

The Boss sighed. From experience, if he refused the Doctor’s request, when he returned, he would be nagged to death by this chatterbox. It seemed his plan to leave while the Doctor was sleeping was completely ruined. The Boss stuffed the rabbit doll into his coat pocket and helplessly instructed: “Remember not to move or make noise.”

“I know, do you need to tell me that?” The Doctor grinned smugly and pulled his exposed long ears back inside, carefully hiding them behind his head.

Lu Zigang shivered immediately after getting out of the taxi and quickly tightened his down jacket. Logically, having lived in the north, he should be used to such heavy snowfall, but southern winters were truly unbearable – this snow was no lighter than in the north!

“Little Lu, over here.” The middle-aged man who got out of the taxi with him wasn’t as disheveled, but smiled and called him to come this way.

“Coming!” Lu Zigang hurried to catch up. This time he was on a business trip to Hangzhou with Professor Tang. Apparently, a big collector in Hangzhou had died a few days ago, leaving countless antiques and paintings. His descendants couldn’t preserve them, so they publicly sent out invitations for a private auction. After all, collecting antiques nowadays wasn’t just something money could buy – porcelain would become worthless if chipped or broken, and paintings were even more troublesome, requiring humidity and temperature control plus protection from insects. People without patience and interest simply couldn’t devote such passion to antiques.

So when the invitations were sent out, the antique world flocked here, even alarming the National Museum. Now museums also provided subsidies for donations, along with benefits and good reputation, so Professor Tang had come to negotiate.

Professor Tang’s full name was Tang Anshi, a visiting professor at the National Museum specializing in calligraphy and painting, known as “Tang Half-Ruler.” This meant that Professor Tang could distinguish authenticity from just unrolling half a ruler of any scroll painting. This title was somewhat exaggerated but demonstrated Professor Tang’s status in the antique world. This time, the deceased collector was said to have many paintings, so Professor Tang had come upon hearing the news. As for Lu Zigang, he had been studying restoration of ancient calligraphy and paintings for over a year. The leadership above saw his diligence and felt he was worthy of important tasks, so they sent him as Professor Tang’s assistant.