Chapter 51 – Gaining the World
Liu Zhi sat upright, not moving a muscle, and slowly said, “The people’s hearts naturally align with the general will. Looking back through history, which emperor who lost the people’s trust could remain unfallen for long? Let’s not even mention the current Official Master; just consider the late emperor, he was quite the ‘exemplar’…”
He sneered slightly, summarizing the late emperor’s “great deeds,” providing detailed examples to deepen the impression, dissecting and reasoning, avoiding dryness while ensuring he wasn’t just speaking empty words.
“The ruler must rely on the power of the noble families, but the greatest foundation still lies with the ‘people.'”
Though Liu Zhi hailed from a prestigious family, he was not optimistic about the future of these lineages, even sensing that they may not endure for long.
Of course, amidst the current backdrop, the influence of the noble families on the court was tremendously significant, capable of casting a huge shadow.
“The late emperor’s downfall was partly due to offending various aristocratic families, but the core reason remains losing the people’s trust. If not, how could King Wuma Jin of Hejian have swept through unchecked, storming Yang City, putting a knife to the late emperor’s throat?”
King Wuma Jin, after all, was the current emperor seated on the dragon throne.
He was the late emperor’s full-blooded brother, yet when these brothers clashed, there was zero kinship to be found.
After ascending the throne, in order to quell public grievance, King Wuma Jin even disregarded the pleas of all officials, issuing a decree to execute the late emperor, seeking rain from the heavens.
Jiang Pengji vaguely understood, sensing an odd similarity between the ancient backdrop and her own time.
In her era, there were also noble families, some wielding enough power to sway the fate of the Federation.
Yet, no matter the chaos, the true masters of the Federation were still the countless commoners. Whether noble or aristocrat, they could not escape those people. In this era, it remained the same: no matter how powerful the noble families, they could not defy the voice of the world!
Of course, some noble families were too arrogant, believing they could manipulate the world’s affairs at their whim… such fools were mere jesters.
While contemplating this, Liu Zhi gazed at her with gentle eyes, as if his dark and bright pupils held a spring of clear water.
“You are the only child beneath your father’s knee; the family has been lenient with you, inevitably blinding you to the greater picture. You see only the splendor, yet fail to perceive the deeper decay… ‘people’s hearts’ may seem easy to write, yet to truly inscribe them beautifully is exceedingly challenging.”
With fingers as white as scallions, he held the brush steadily, writing two large characters on a piece of bamboo paper: “People’s Hearts…”
“Words without substance are merely empty talk; if they lack form, others will see their foundation at a glance… It’s easy to write but hard to actualize.”
Liu Zhi smiled indifferently, and upon hearing this, Jiang Pengji’s expression changed.
“What does father mean?”
Liu Zhi tossed aside the bamboo slips, “Use your own eyes to see, experience things firsthand; only then will you truly grasp the content of the texts. Do you know the prices outside? What do the people need? For what reason do those who leave home sell their children and daughters…”
Without understanding the needs of the people, how could one genuinely consider their welfare?
If one cannot even achieve this, don’t even think about winning their hearts.
Should betrayal arise for this reason, resulting in a knife in your back, that would be far too frustrating.
However, Jiang Pengji had another question in her heart—he said… Liu Lanting was his only child?
Then what about those two bastards and daughters in the backyard?
Liu Zhi’s clear voice, amidst the flickering candlelight in the study, felt especially heavy, as if it concealed a lethal poison.
Jiang Pengji sensed the… precariousness of today’s “father-son topic.”
“Shall Lanting hear some interesting tales from when father was in office?”
Liu Zhi cleverly shifted the conversation, allowing Jiang Pengji to think for herself. What he spoke of was not only related to the path of ruling but also pertinent to the path of governance; how could an official who doesn’t understand the people’s needs truly consider them?
As for where his daughter’s thoughts wandered, he didn’t care—a difference merely denoted the size of her ambitions.
Oh, and there’s a bedtime story to hear too.
Jiang Pengji perked up, “Of course, I want to hear.”
So, Liu Zhi began sharing his experiences while in those positions, covering a broad array of topics, from the minutiae of daily affairs to the vicious struggles of backhouses, to the countless personalities of the market, the intrigues of the officialdom, all initially appearing frequent, yet truly breathtaking.
Even in the poorest regions, there were always local power players; for a governor coming from afar, properly managing a region required some means. During the toughest times, he was nearly turned into a puppet by a coalition of local lesser aristocrats.
Policies from above met counter-measures below; just as Lady Die suggested, beneath Liu Zhi’s pleasant facade, there lurked a belly full of dark water.
When the light approach failed, he opted for the side route, regardless of whether the means were bright or not; as long as it worked, that was all that mattered. Who doesn’t have skeletons in their closet? Who’s hands are completely clean? How many matriarchs can be truly magnanimous amidst a houseful of concubines, bastard sons, and daughters? He waited like a hunting snake, coldly biding his time until the prey relaxed its guard.
After months of lurking, he dealt with those arrogant lesser aristocrats one by one.
His storytelling style was not stiff; there was a certain humor to it, although it starkly contrasted with his otherworldly demeanor.
Jiang Pengji listened, unable to deny, that she had grown curiously intrigued by the outside world, her mind filling with vivid impressions, rather than merely categorizing everything in this era as “the antiquated products of ignorance.”
Even though Liu Zhi worried that Jiang Pengji might become an innocent sheltered child of nobility, his intentions inadvertently hit the mark.
She seriously said, “I understand father’s meaning.”
“That’s good to hear.” He gave her a head pat, having recently taken a liking to that gesture, then took out a small box from beside him, opened it, and retrieved a booklet inside. “You’re twelve this year; two more years, and you’ll be of age to start a family…”
Jiang Pengji’s facial nerves twitched uncontrollably; twelve years old… in two years, she would be fourteen, and it would be time to start a family?
Suddenly, she found herself viewing those thirty-somethings still diligently studying in higher education as oversized infants.
“What’s this?” She took the small booklet Liu Zhi handed over, opened it cautiously, and after scanning nearly couldn’t comprehend.
“Your mother’s dowry list, the top one is hers, and the one below is what your father has gradually added over the years.” Liu Zhi said with a smile, “Of course, regarding your marriage, I have other plans; this list… hardly counts as a dowry.”
He had never intended to marry off his daughter; had it been the case, there’d have been no need to keep the death of the legitimate second son a secret all those years ago.
Jiang Pengji truly had no grasp of the prices in this era, but upon looking at the densely packed items, she felt it was a significant amount!
Her gaze fell to the last items, seeing real estate, rice, and horse trade making her frown inwardly.
