Daming: Brother, there is no future for monks, let's rebel

Shen Hao raised an eyebrow, pondered for a moment, and replied, "First, investigate the reasons presented by the two counties, the differences in land area, and the advantages and disadvantages of waterways. Then, establish a council among the people, allowing each to send representatives to debate the reasons, while the government listens without interfering. Only when the people argue their case can the people be convinced by reason."

Zhu Qi'an sneered: "That sounds nice. But if the two counties fight and injure people because of the dispute, causing bloodshed, who will be held responsible? If you don't have the courage to judge cases, then you are governing without a leader!"

"That is why the Crown Prince needs us to speak for the people first, and then assist him in making decisions. If we simply order people to act on his behalf from the top down, it will only provoke public anger."

"What a joke." Zhu Qi'an's voice suddenly turned cold. "You're nothing but empty talk and ideals; you're utterly incompetent and incapable of action when faced with a real situation. The court doesn't need dreamers; it only needs those who can make decisions!"

"You're wrong," Shen Hao said coldly. "There are hundreds of people who can make decisions, but those who can win people's hearts are rare. If one makes decisions without virtue, all those decisions will bring disaster."

The two debated fiercely, their words like pearls of wisdom, captivating the audience, even the lecturer nodded in agreement from time to time.

As the sun reached its zenith and the battle drew to a close, Zhu Qi'an finally showed signs of fatigue. Seeing that the limelight had been stolen, he suddenly stood up and coldly shouted:

"I refuse to accept this! If you truly dare to stand before me, then let's have a 'battle of wits'!"

The students in the audience immediately erupted in uproar.

"Wenjian Lunxin" is a secret debate method passed down in the academy. It involves selecting an unreleased essay topic and having both parties answer it on the spot. The winner is immediately judged, and no one else is allowed to answer or delay. It is the highest challenge for scholars.

Shen Hao's gaze sharpened, and he showed no sign of backing down: "Please provide a question."

The elderly presiding official personally wrote a scroll and read it aloud in a deep voice: "The essay topic is—'The Crown Prince teaches, and scholars follow; however, the people's sentiments are varied, and the court's opinions are uncertain. How can we use education to reassure the people?'"

Zhu Qi'an snorted coldly and immediately began to write with lightning speed.

Shen Hao stood before the desk, motionless for a long time. He closed his eyes for a long while, seemingly regulating his breathing, then with a stroke of his brush, he wrote the first line:
"The essence of education lies not in instruction, but in belief. The essence of teaching lies not in books, but in practice. If the Crown Prince's teachings do not resonate with people's hearts, how can he educate the world?"

With swift strokes, he wrote a five-hundred-word essay in a flash.

He put down his pen, looked up at Zhu Qi'an, and said, "Please comment."

During the deliberation, all was silent, and everyone held their breath.

The old gentleman unfurled the two volumes of policy essays, and after only a moment, he picked up Shen Hao's work and said loudly, "This essay takes teaching as its foundation, supplemented by understanding people's hearts, connecting the past and present, and possessing both integrity and truthfulness. It is a superior work. Victory!"

A thunderous applause erupted from the audience, and some students even stood up and shouted:
"I am willing to follow Lord Shen's words and seek the truth!"

"Shen Hao should be the one to take the main seat on the podium!"

Zhu Qi'an's face turned ashen, and his folding fan snapped with a "crack." He tried to stand up, but felt the cold gazes from all around him were like knives, so he could only clasp his hands in a fist and say:

"I have lost."

He turned and left, and there was no more cheering from the audience.

Shen Hao collected the papers, turned around, bowed to the students, and said:
"My defeat is due to the Crown Prince's will; I dare not claim credit, but only wish to share this sentiment, assist the Crown Prince, and bring peace to the world."

Everyone stood up and solemnly clasped their hands in greeting: "We are willing to accompany you, sir."

That night, news of the battle at Yingtian Academy reached the capital.

Zhu Han sat alone in the east corridor of the Prince's Mansion. The night was as dark as ink. He held a book in his hand and gently unfurled it, a smile playing on his lips.

“Biao’er, the flag has been raised and the wind has risen. Now, it’s up to you whether you’re willing to ride it.”

Behind the screen, Zhu Biao slowly emerged, dressed in plain brocade, his expression serene, holding a cup of warm wine in his hand. He said softly:
"Uncle, you went too far. After that battle, no one dared to say that Shen Hao was just a theorist."

Zhu Han smiled, took the glass of wine, and drank it all in one gulp.

"Ruthless? How can you establish your authority without being ruthless? If you truly want to hold onto your position as Crown Prince, how can you rely on the Emperor's favor?"

Zhu Biao looked up, a flicker of light in his eyes, and said in a low voice, "I understand."

"Understand what?"

“I understand that what you are teaching me is not how to secure my position as crown prince, but how to win people’s hearts.”

Zhu Han stood up, hands behind his back, looking towards the distant palace, and said softly:
"That's right. Fate is in your hands; I'm just clearing a path for you."

System notification: [Completed the main storyline branch "Battle of the Scholars," Zhu Han's reputation +300, reward: one Mingxin Token, which can trigger a global motion influence.]

The night was deep and the imperial city was as still as water. Only one corner of the Prince's Mansion was still lit. Zhu Han, wearing a blue fox fur robe, stood in the flower hall, gently turning the "Mind-Clearing Token" between his fingers. The bronze token had dark patterns, and it was warm and steady, like a silent chess piece.

Zhu Biao sat to the side, his expression calm, but his eyes gleaming: "Uncle, can this token really 'initiate the entire situation'?"

Zhu Han's gaze remained fixed as he calmly said, "That's what the system says. In other words, this thing can, at a crucial moment, push the situation in the direction you want."

"It is a clever plan, but also a sharp sword."

When can it be used?

"We must not act unless the situation becomes stalemate or unexpected changes occur."

Zhu Biao paused for a moment, then asked, "Could I have held on then?"

Zhu Han turned his head, his eyes sharp as a blade: "I don't care if you can handle it, I only care if you're willing to shoulder the burden."

"If you don't want to carry it, I'll push away those blocking your way; but if you don't even have the will to carry it—"

Before he finished speaking, his words already carried a sharp edge, but Zhu Biao looked at him steadily and nodded slowly: "I can handle it."

Zhu Han smiled slightly and finally withdrew the Mind-Clearing Token: "That's good."

The fragrance of osmanthus wafts outside the window; tonight, I am destined to be sleepless.

Two days later, Zhu Han did not go to court as usual, nor did he return to the palace. Instead, he stepped into an old alley with blue bricks and gray tiles, vines entwining the walls, and an old bookstore called "Shixi Zhai" quietly sitting at the end of the alley.

The shop does not sell new books, but only rare and old ones. A plaque with three characters hangs on the wall, written in a powerful and vigorous style.

The shopkeeper was a blind old man who sat behind the counter, turning the abacus while smiling: "Your Highness has come today to find that book, 'Xiangwei Lilue'?"

Zhu Han said, "No."

He took out a small, copper nail-shaped object from his sleeve and gently pressed it onto the countertop.

The shopkeeper was taken aback, then his face lit up with a smile. He stood up and slowly pushed open the secret door behind the counter: "Please, Your Highness."

Behind the door is a secret passage leading underground.

Inside the stone chamber, the lights flickered. A man was already waiting, dressed in a crimson robe, his back straight as a spear. He was none other than Chu Shao, the mastermind behind a secret agent known as "Ink Stream" that Zhu Han had planted among the people for many years.

"Your Highness, the matter you ordered has been initially reported," Chu Shao said, kneeling on the ground.

Zhu Han sat down and got straight to the point: "Speak."

"The battle at Yingtian Academy has caused an uproar among scholars. Shen Hao is the vanguard of fame, and the Crown Prince is the flag bearer; the winds have shifted."

"Although Zhu Qi'an was defeated, he did not give up. On his way back to Luoyang, he secretly met with someone at a post station, and his conversation was recorded by an informant."

Zhu Han's brow furrowed: "Who?"

"Lu Song, Secretary of the Imperial Academy."

“Lu Song…” Zhu Han said slowly, “This man comes from the old Hanlin Academy faction. Judging from his actions, he wants to use Zhu Qi’an to start another scheme. Is he using the remaining flames of the literati to ignite the Crown Prince’s enemy?”

"Exactly. Lu Song is cunning and treacherous, and he always keeps a low profile. Behind him, there may be more than one school of thought."

Zhu Han pondered for a moment and said, "This man should not be acted upon hastily. Let him make his plans. I want to see what tricks he can come up with."

He paused, then said, "Also, I need you to investigate someone."

"Who?"

"Sun Zhongyan".

Chu Shao's expression shifted slightly: "The second son of the Sun family from the Left Army Commandery?"

“Yes.” Zhu Han said slowly, “His father, Sun Xingzhong, is the son of a military meritorious official, but he has not been given important positions for many years. Recently, he was suddenly ordered to be transferred to the Dongzhimen Guard Division. It’s too much of a coincidence.”

"You think he's one of Zhu Qi'an's men?"

“Not necessarily.” A hint of sarcasm flashed in Zhu Han’s eyes. “But he might be someone’s weapon.” “The key is who the weapon is used on.”

Chu Shao bowed his head: "Your subordinate understands."

"Go."

Zhu Han stood with his hands behind his back in the room, and only after Chu Shao had gone far away did he slowly look up at the oil lamp in the stone chamber above his head.

“The game between scholars is just the opening act,” he murmured. “The real game lies with those silent ‘swords’.”

In the capital, in an inconspicuous mansion, Sun Zhongyan was practicing his swordsmanship.

He was only twenty-six years old, with a sharp sword and a figure like an eagle.

Five rows of wooden stakes stand in the courtyard, with cups placed on the stakes, plum branches inserted into the cups, and silk threads wrapped around the plum branches, as fine as silkworm silk.

With a swift stroke of the longsword, all ten branches were severed.

He sheathed his sword, his expression cold and solemn.

A man emerged from the house, dressed in a scholar's robe, with a refined and slender face; it was none other than Lu Song.

"Not bad swordsmanship." Lu Song stood with his hands behind his back.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Sun Zhongyan said in a low voice, bowing. “If my father finds out…”

“No matter how old Sun Xingzhong is, he won’t understand what we’re talking about,” Lu Song said with a faint smile. “If your father wants to regain his military power, he has to rely on you. If you want to get ahead, you also have to rely on me.”

Sun Zhongyan coldly asked, "What do you want me to do?"

"Keep an eye on one person."

"Who?"

"Shen Hao."

“Just a scholar,” Sun Zhongyan said coldly.

“He is not a scholar.” Lu Song’s gaze turned slightly cold. “He is a flag. The Crown Prince’s flag. Once he is firmly established, there will be endless troubles.”

Sun Zhongyan remained silent.

Lu Song walked slowly forward and said in a low voice, "Just give me the order, and all it takes is a small 'dispute.' When you make a move, you'll be displaying the power of a military general and slapping the Crown Prince across the face."

"If things don't go well, I'll guarantee your safety."

"If you succeed—you will gain not only military power, but also the future position of general."

A glint flashed in Sun Zhongyan's eyes, and he nodded, "I understand."

At this moment, Shen Hao had also entered the palace and was standing in the side hall of the Crown Prince's East Palace, facing Zhu Biao.

"Your Highness, the Prince instructed me to convey that the Crown Prince may accompany him to Mount Yang in three days."

Zhu Biao's brow twitched slightly: "Yangshan?"

“Yes.” Shen Hao nodded. “His Highness said that only by climbing high and looking far can one know where the wind comes from.”

Three days later, Zhu Biao, dressed in plain clothes, rode a fast horse with Zhu Han to the top of Yangshan Mountain, where they looked out over the capital. The mountain wind howled, and their robes billowed.

Zhu Han suddenly asked, "Biao'er, the officials, soldiers, and students in the capital are all like boiling water. Do you know which side this situation is going to tip in?"

Zhu Biao thought for a moment and replied, "The wind direction is uncertain, and public opinion is fluctuating."

“You’re wrong.” Zhu Han pointed to the distant palace walls of the capital. “The wind direction has already begun to shift. It’s just that you’re not standing high enough to see it.”

"Climbing to a high place is not to see the wind, but to wait for the wind."

"What wind are we waiting for?"

"Waiting for a 'coup'."

Zhu Biao was shocked: "A coup? Imperial Uncle, you—"

Zhu Han waved his hand: "Don't panic. It's not about the Emperor, but about forcing that group of old officials, scholars, and military men to choose sides."

"All you need to do is stand firm when the wind blows."

At the mountaintop, the wind howls like a song, and the clouds roll and unroll.

As the mountain wind howled, a thousand thoughts surged within Zhu Biao's heart.

His gaze was fixed on the imperial city, and he asked in a deep voice, "Uncle, what if the wind blows too fiercely, making it hard for me to stand?"

Zhu Han smiled slightly, his voice calm: "If the wind is strong, it's a good thing. It blows away the loose sand and dispels pretense. If you can't stand firm, it's not the wind's fault, it's that your roots aren't deep enough."

"Your current 'roots' lie in those scholars who are willing to speak up for you. In the future, there will be people in the military, popular supporters, and even important officials in the court. Your 'roots' must be planted in the hearts of everyone."

Zhu Biao listened and nodded slowly. After a long while, he said, "Then how will Lu Song, Zhu Qi'an, and those people we can't see respond to this storm?"

Zhu Han sighed and looked up at the clouds: "When the wind rises, everything moves. They will unite, they will rebel, they will take advantage of the chaos. But that's precisely why you must stand straight in the wind. That way, no matter which way the wind blows, you will be the unmoving flag."

“I understand,” Zhu Biao said in a deep voice. “If I can stand firm, the world will naturally come to me.”

Zhu Han glanced at him, a look of satisfaction appearing in his eyes.

He gently patted Zhu Biao on the shoulder: "You're right. I can pave the way for you every step from now on, but whether you can walk through it steadily depends on yourself."

At that moment, an eagle soared down from the distant mountains, its cry clear and sharp, seemingly foreshadowing some hidden destiny.

Within the capital, the storm has not yet subsided, and the situation remains unresolved.

Lu Song returned to Hongwen Hall, strolled into the room, closed the door and windows, and took out a pre-written memorial from a secret compartment.

He picked up a pen and added a few words, then sealed it with sealing wax and handed it to a messenger dressed in blue with a stern face.

"Send him to Yanjing to see that 'Old Marquis'."

Lu Song said coldly, "Just say it, the flag of the Crown Prince has been raised. If we hesitate any longer, there will be no chance to turn back."

The messenger remained silent, bowed deeply, and then disappeared into the night.

Meanwhile, Sun Zhongyan was also taking action.

Under the guise of "military inspections," he began to enter and leave the Left Army camp outside the imperial city, where he held secret talks with several mid- to low-ranking military officers.

Those men were all former subordinates of Sun Xingzhong, who had followed him in his campaigns in western Liaoning. They were later demoted to military commanders due to political strife. Now, seeing their former master's son again, they were naturally overwhelmed with excitement.

“Zhongyan, we followed your father in his early years, fighting on the frontier and sharing countless battles, risking our lives together. Now we are just guarding grain in this desolate camp, and we have been feeling frustrated for many years,” one of them said in a low voice.

“Yes,” another person chimed in. “I only hope that one day I will be given an important position again, even if it means dying for it.”

Sun Zhongyan frowned, remained silent for a moment, and then suddenly said, "If I give you the chance, would you dare to go up?"

"dare!"

"Dare to die!"

The group responded almost in unison.

Sun Zhongyan clenched his fist and said in a low voice, "Alright. Then wait for my order."

That night, he returned to his room alone, sat at his desk, and gazed at the cold blade in its sheath with a complex expression.

At Yingtian Academy, Shen Hao has become a trendsetter for the new generation of scholars.

He lectured every day without ceasing, and what he taught was no longer empty classics like "The Great Learning" and "The Doctrine of the Mean," but practical matters and real discussions.

"Governing the people is like controlling water; if you block it, it will overflow; if you divert it, it will flow freely." (End of Chapter)