“…however common folk speak of it is one category, and however scholars speak of it in their mouths is another category. Grand Preceptor Cai has served as chancellor for over a decade—there have been good things, there have been bad things—but it’s not something that can be judged so simply. As for the current court, the foremost military official is naturally Grand Marshal Tong, but when it comes to civil officials, the one who commands the respect of the whole realm isn’t this old man, nor is it Chancellor Li—it’s that old Grand Preceptor writing calligraphy at home. Honestly, if this northern campaign runs into real trouble, and Chancellor Li and I can’t hold things together, the only one who could truly steady the situation is that old gentleman.”

After dinner, Qin Siyuan spoke with Ning Yi, leading him toward the garden behind the chancellor’s residence, and casually brought up Cai Jing. This old man, who had served as chancellor for over a decade, did not have a good reputation among the common folk at this time, and opinions among scholars were mixed—but among court officials, most understood his standing well enough. Qin Siyuan, himself in his sixties, still referred to the man as “the old gentleman” when speaking of him. It seemed that if Li Gang or Qin Siyuan were ever removed from office, this man would likely be the first to be recalled to stabilize the situation.

Fortunately, this time, Li Gang’s rise to chancellor had come at precisely the best moment for the northern campaign. Qin Siyuan’s own depth ran as deep as the sea—though he lacked the accumulated years Cai Jing had built up as chancellor, he was by no means a lightweight either, fully capable of standing shoulder to shoulder with him. Under these circumstances, such a situation shouldn’t arise anytime soon.

Qin Siyuan brought this up casually, without any deeper implication. With a few guards accompanying them, the two strolled to the garden in back, where Qin Siyuan had someone bring out a Go board, preparing to play a match with Ning Yi just as they had in Jiangning. After a bit of idle chat, the old man asked, “Liheng, what are your thoughts on governing a state?”

The question was rather too formal, and Ning Yi was a bit taken aback. He hesitated for a moment, then laughed. “Right Chancellor, sir… isn’t that rather like asking the blind for directions?”

The way he said “Right Chancellor, sir” carried an odd note, and Qin Siyuan laughed. Just as they were speaking, someone accompanied by a servant approached—it was Cheng Zhouhai, come to pay a visit to the chancellor’s residence. After paying respects to his teacher, Qin Siyuan waved a hand, gesturing for him to sit off to the side.

“This northern campaign has had many difficulties, but right now Grand Marshal Tong has already stationed troops at the Liao border, in standoff with Xiao Gan, and the Ever-Victorious Army has defected to us. Under the Jin’s assault, the Liao are being defeated at every turn. If all goes smoothly, ending the war within this year and reclaiming Yanyun is entirely possible. Once the fighting is done, next comes the matter of settlement…” the old man said, setting down a stone. “So Liheng, feel free to speak your mind.”

“Speak freely?” Ning Yi laughed involuntarily.

The old man nodded with a smile. “Mm, speak freely.”

“Alright then, I’ll speak freely.” Ning Yi looked at the board, thought for a moment, set down a stone, then waved his hand. “Chancellor Qin, every day you’re here, looking out over this city—what do you see?”

The pavilion where the two men sat was on a small artificial hill in the garden behind the chancellor’s residence. The elevation was slightly higher, and though one couldn’t possibly see all of Bian Liang from there, the glow of the city’s lights gathering in the night, that bustling atmosphere, could still be felt. Cheng Zhouhai glanced around. Qin Siyuan laughed. “Isn’t that question a bit too broad? Liheng, feel free to just say it plainly.”

“Do you see resentment?”

“Hm?” Qin Siyuan frowned slightly. “What makes you say that?”

“If we’re talking about governance, then we ought to see the resentment first.” Ning Yi held a Go stone between his fingers, rubbing it. “In this world, every person born into it inevitably has dealings with those around them, and dealings inevitably bring friction and collision. Grievances big and small accumulate from this.”

“Today, quarreling with a neighbor is resentment. Getting into a fight with someone is resentment. Being cheated while buying something is resentment. Being slashed with a knife for no reason at all is also resentment. Reporting it to the authorities, only to find officials protecting each other—that’s resentment. An unfair trial—that’s resentment too… these grievances, big and small, get recorded in the heart. Some can be dissolved, some cannot. At death, it’s all wiped clean in one stroke. Chancellor Qin, what you call governance—put in practical terms, I think it’s about governing this resentment.”

Qin Siyuan paused, taken aback, then set down a stone. “Liheng, these words of yours are rather original.”

“Those who talk a good game don’t necessarily know how to act—I’m just theorizing on paper.” Ning Yi smiled and continued. “Governing resentment really comes down to two aspects: moral education and law. Moral education means ethics, culture, custom. Confucius spoke of Heaven, Earth, Sovereign, Parents, Teacher, ranking their order of importance. Guan Zhong spoke of scholars, farmers, artisans, merchants, ranking what matters more and what matters less. Think about it—if someone is a farmer who’s never read a book, who wants little out of life, whose entire world spans one village or town, then even if such a person gets bullied, he considers it ordinary, forgets about it by nightfall, and doesn’t build up much resentment. Someone like me, who’s read some books, traveled to more places, thinks rather highly of himself—I have more friction and collision with others too. Whoever looks down on me, I get angry about it in my heart. In this life, I’ll probably accumulate plenty of resentment too…”

Hearing this, both Qin Siyuan and Cheng Zhouhai, who was listening nearby, laughed. Ning Yi went on with a smile. “In a world with better moral standards, where people treat each other with courtesy, where everyone understands what can be done and what shouldn’t be done, friction lessens, and so does the chance of generating resentment. Because people differ in the education they’ve received, they differ in how much they understand reason, and because people position themselves differently, when the same thing happens to different people, the likelihood of resentment arising differs too. A scholar will grow angry over being disrespected by others, but an old farmer won’t.”

“Culture and custom tell each person what position they hold here, what respect they should receive. Morality is what lubricates this society—when you go home, and your neighbors get along, brothers are affectionate, your wife is gentle and kind, all these things help ease resentment. And law is the final means of resolution.”

Ning Yi set down another stone. “Say Brother Cheng and I have friction, generating resentment that can’t be resolved, and it’s uncomfortable no matter what—then the only option is to report it to the authorities. If the law is trusted, if officials handle matters according to regulation, fairly and strictly, and the judgment above satisfies both him and me, then the resentment gets dissolved. But if the law can’t be fair, if everyone in the world feels officials just protect each other, that law is useless—then when he and I go to report it, the first thing on our minds is to scramble around looking for connections. In the end, his connections might outweigh mine, and even if I submit for the moment to avoid trouble, the resentment in my heart still isn’t resolved. And since he has money and power, even if I submit for now, he’ll still feel that I dared to provoke him, and he’ll be determined to make me regret it—even the resentment in his own heart won’t be resolved. Then the law becomes a joke.”

He shook his head. “This resentment doesn’t cause problems right away, but over a person’s whole life, everything that happens gets remembered. Resentment slowly builds up, and if there’s too much of it before death… people turn to killing, to rebellion. Some don’t dare to, but they’re more easily incited by others, more likely to become instruments of harm. People’s temperaments turn strange, and there’s no more trust or human warmth between them. For a society, the most important thing is always to dissolve this resentment, to make it… milder in symptom, fewer in number, and the world will be better for it.”

When he finished speaking, Qin Siyuan and Cheng Zhouhai fell silent for a moment. Cheng Zhouhai laughed. “By that logic, wouldn’t a world without moral education be best? If everyone were farmers, with no scholars, there’d be no resentment at all…”

“But human nature seeks something better.” Ning Yi smiled. “You seek to eat your fill, then seek to dress well, and once fed and clothed well, you want a woman, and once you have a woman you want to pass down your line, and in between you want to do something meaningful too. Some things are self-evident—as society develops, to dissolve resentment so it doesn’t reach collapse, dissolving resentment is also meant to help society move forward more steadily. It’s just that in terms of governance, the central principle should be dissolving resentment, with treatment and development proceeding in parallel. Development is something that can’t be held back, just like reform…”

He paused. “Throughout history, every reform wasn’t the result of some clever person thinking up a good solution that then drove society forward. Rather, society develops, and when it hits a bottleneck, someone emerges to carry out change, because everyone sees that change has become necessary. Since Shang Yang’s reforms began promoting education, the number of scholars gradually increased, and more and more people wanted to rise upward. If they couldn’t rise, their resentment increased, and once it built up to a certain degree, a new method had to be implemented to give everyone something to hope for. Nearly every reform, every adjustment to the court and social structure, has largely been like this—some people are dissatisfied, so you make them satisfied, that’s all. The laws of the world have always emerged because people found use for them, not the other way around, with people following along just because the law appeared…”

Having said all this, Cheng Zhouhai thought for a moment. “In this world today, there really are more and more scholars—it looks like before long there’ll need to be another change?”

“I hope there will be change.” Ning Yi answered casually. “Actually, merchants are increasing too. They have money, and ambitions to climb higher. Aren’t many high officials today already being influenced by merchants? Right now they can slowly exert influence, and once it builds up to a certain point, it’s bound to push for change… heh, I suppose I’m speaking as a merchant would here too…”

Cheng Zhouhai furrowed his brow, and after a moment, nodded in agreement. “A great many people will die.”

Ning Yi was still looking at the board. “A social trend, once it shifts, lasts twenty or thirty years, even a hundred. I’ll just keep out of the way when it comes.”

There was actually something else he didn’t say—that the Wu Dynasty, seemingly indulgent in both letters and arms now, all peace and prosperity on the surface, might not even have the chance for such change at all. After this remark, Qin Siyuan, who had been listening silently while playing, finally spoke up.

“Liheng… those things you implemented at Overlord Blade Manor—were they meant as preparation for this?”

Ning Yi frowned. Since arriving in the capital, he’d more or less known that Qin Siyuan was quite interested in this, known that he’d ask about it eventually—he just hadn’t expected this particular question.

“That was a stopgap measure.” He said, after thinking for a moment. “It has nothing to do with governing the realm. And… it’s too early to say now. If there’s ever a chance to see results, it could be worth discussing further down the line.”

He glanced at Qin Siyuan.

That truly had been just a stopgap—it treated weakness, not the world itself. In modern Chinese history, that one revolution most worth commending was the one that mobilized every single participant down to the grassroots level. Before that, every uprising, every rebellion, every large-scale armed struggle had confined its mobilization to the level of the scholar-officials and the generals—the true lower classes had always simply followed the tide, with no value in being mobilized. And that value of mobilization could only manifest in combat strength; it had little bearing on anything else.

Qin Siyuan nodded with a smile. “With thoughts like these, Liheng, and the ability to match them—once you’re back from Shandong, why not go study at the Imperial Academy, try for an official rank?”

Ning Yi laughed too. “I was just talking nonsense. As for those things… I have no ability for them, and honestly no interest either.”

Ning Yi’s competence was already plain to see, and Qin Siyuan certainly wasn’t questioning his ability—only, at this point, he could just laugh and shake his head. “Well, well, we’ll talk about this again when you’re back… I have matters to attend to today. Zhouhai, keep him company on my behalf, and see him off later when he leaves. Oh, Liheng, the day after tomorrow, when you head out, I’ll come see you off myself.”

Having kept Ning Yi behind mainly to discuss this matter of “governing the state,” now that it was finished, he hurried off to deal with his own affairs. As the old man’s figure disappeared, Ning Yi turned to look at Cheng Zhouhai beside him.

“Brother Cheng, could it be you came specifically looking for me?”

This time Cheng Zhouhai hadn’t mentioned anything to Qin Siyuan at all, and judging by his expression, it seemed there was something he wanted to say to Ning Yi directly. Ning Yi felt a faint sense of puzzlement. Over there, Cheng Zhouhai looked up at the sky, then smiled and cupped his hands.

“There’s still time—shall we talk as we walk?”

“Alright.”

Just as the two of them were leaving the Qin residence together, elsewhere in Bian Liang, Zhou Pei tucked a dagger into her robe and, with a resolute expression, was in the process of climbing into a large sack. After the sack had been closed around her, it was opened again, and Zhou Pei poked her head out to look around before climbing back in, saying to those beside her, “Go easy.”

The moonlight was gentle. Two days before Ning Yi was set to leave Bian Liang, on the night before he would actually leave, certain things were already beginning to unfold…