Chapter 50 – The Heart of the People
“That’s what they say, but who can predict the future, right?”
Jiang Pengji was a warrior at heart, but she wasn’t some arrogant bloodthirsty maniac. As long as no one pushed into her door and openly provoked her, she generally wouldn’t go looking for trouble. As for the old monk’s talk about raising a flag to become an emperor or even reigning as a female emperor, that all depended on the situation.
She didn’t like to stir up trouble, but she wasn’t one to shy away from it either!
Watching the orange sunset slowly droop outside the carriage, Jiang Pengji felt quite calm, while Liu Zhi couldn’t sit still.
Upon returning to the Liu Residence, he told Jiang Pengji to check on the stepmother first, while he headed straight to the main courtyard. Waving to the maidservants trailing behind, he said, “Stay outside the room. Without my permission, no one is allowed in. If Lan Ting arrives, remember to inform me.”
The two maidservants responded softly with “Yes,” and without even glancing at the delicate maidservants, Liu Zhi hurried briskly to the quarters he had shared with Gu Min. According to current customs, the main wife usually lived in the eastern courtyard, but with the deep bond he shared with Gu Min, they had always cohabited.
The room’s decor remained unchanged since his wife’s passing. Liu Zhi looked around, quickly moving to a corner of the chamber.
Gingerly moving aside a trunk, he used the hairpin atop his head to scratch the ground a few times, then he shifted a brick according to the marks he made. To his surprise, the section beneath was hollow, revealing a few copper boxes inlaid with gold and silver, each locked tight, with only one key kept close to him.
Opening one of the copper boxes, he carefully removed the neatly folded silk cloth inside, covered in writing.
His eyes darted across the content, his expression growing dark and inscrutable as he stood frozen in place for a long while. Once notified that Jiang Pengji was coming to pay her respects, he reluctantly folded the silk cloth back to its original state, stowed it away securely, and moved the trunk back into place.
Smoothing out the creases in his clothes, Liu Zhi adjusted his expression before stepping out of the quarters to the main courtyard’s flower hall.
Previously, he had told Jiang Pengji that she no longer needed to attend the clan academy, as Wei Gongcao was ill, so the teaching duties temporarily fell to him.
Taking the bamboo slips and books Jiang Pengji brought, he flipped through them slightly. “Have you been reading these lately?”
One book titled “Strategies of War” and half a scroll of “The Analects.”
Originally, he had used the study, so he was quite familiar with the books there, many of which had his own annotations.
As soon as he opened the bamboo slip, he noticed numerous new notes. His daughter’s interest in “Strategies of War” far surpassed that for “The Analects.” Most of the comments on the former were quite sensible, even containing her own thoughts and hypothetical strategies, while on the latter…
Wow, it seemed he wasn’t the only one who was not fond of “The Analects”—they both found it a headache after too much reading.
“…The sage says, the people are precious, the state next, and the ruler least valued… Wow, but when you’re actually stuck in the cutthroat political world, you realize this is just to fool the naïve… What the sage said is ultimately just words.”
Closing the bamboo slip, Liu Zhi set the half scroll of “The Analects” aside and carefully examined Jiang Pengji’s annotations on “Strategies of War.”
Just from that one line, Jiang Pengji could deduce that Liu Zhi was simply a rare breed of this era, a unique flower blending perfectly among ordinary blooms.
In current times, Confucianism was in vogue, reigning supreme among the hundred schools of thought. Was it really okay for him to say such things?
Even in her past life, despite advanced technology and widespread territories, inequality persisted and was not uncommon, let alone in the exceedingly backward ancient times!
She simply didn’t expect Liu Zhi would say something like this to her.
According to the typical mindset of ancient folks, wouldn’t they just see this as a norm, something to take for granted?
Jiang Pengji couldn’t reveal too much but could only follow his words with a question, “The ruler is like a boat; the common people are the water. The water can carry the boat and also overturn it. This shows that the common people are more important than the ruler. Could it be that the sage’s words are also false?”
Liu Zhi shook his head, correcting her, “No, it’s not that they are false; it’s just that they are too perfect.”
He knew this daughter was extraordinary, yet she still hadn’t seen much of the world. Gu Min often said at twelve, she was still a naive little kid who needed proper guidance instead of unfettered learning.
At twelve, it was the best age for shaping thoughts—after this phase, ideas would solidify, and changing them would become difficult.
His daughter didn’t like “The Analects,” which could be seen from her sparse comments, but not liking it didn’t justify outright denial.
“Half a volume of ‘The Analects’ manages the world,” this wasn’t just a saying.
Learning was essential, but it should be selective.
For rulers, studying “The Analects” could refine their character, help them manage subordinates, win the people’s hearts, and comprehend public sentiment… In short, the benefits were immense.
Though Liu Zhi had been stationed in a remote area over the years, his governance was remarkably effective, and the region thrived comparably to prosperous places.
From rags to riches, the counties he administrated underwent a complete transformation. He had seen the attitudes of the children of newly wealthy families and worried that Jiang Pengji’s curiosity or pride might lead her astray.
“The sage’s words constrict the noble, not the petty. Those vague phrases are for a glance only, not for deep study.”
Jiang Pengji believed that if Liu Zhi were to voice such sentiments publicly, he’d surely be beset by a barrage of criticism from the stern Confucian scholars. It was nothing short of sacrilege!
Liu Zhi smiled again, adding, “Even so, this conveys a truth—those who win the hearts of the people shall conquer the realm!”
Isn’t that the case in today’s Dongqing?
The late emperor’s absurd indulgence led him to murder his father for the throne, and upon ascending, he only indulged in pleasures, neglecting court affairs, promoting cronies and eliminating capable ministers. It didn’t end there; he even seized his uncle’s wife, causing his uncle’s demise. Now, under the current emperor, it had only gotten worse!
Fratricide, seizing a subordinate’s wife, neglecting governance, mooching off pleasure—arrogant, tyrannical, blind to reality, favoring sycophants, and allowing trusted aides to persecute virtuous officials… The court was rife with corruption, nepotism thrived, and the foundation of Dongqing was rotten. Wrongful imprisonments abound… With such an emperor, it was only a matter of time before Dongqing fell apart.
As for the affairs of the northern tribes and the North Town Marquis—you might as well call it the last straw on a camel’s back!
If there wasn’t a peace treaty, Dongqing might hold out for a few more years until the princes grew up, and perhaps a wise ruler would emerge to save the crumbling state. But if a peace treaty happened, it could invite disaster.
The world was on the brink of chaos, which was why he believed Master Liaochen’s words.
Jiang Pengji gazed intently at the smiling Liu Zhi, recognizing that his words were serious without a hint of jest.
“What Father said, I shall certainly remember,” Jiang Pengji secretly rolled her eyes, clearly sensing Liu Zhi’s encouragement veiled as caution.
The gap between the ancient era and her previous age was vast—not just in technology, but in culture and society. Liu Zhi’s words were undoubtedly valuable to her. As for other matters, she would need time and space to understand them thoroughly.
