Ming Dynasty and New Rome and Infinite Magic Machine

Chapter 1633 Old Father

Victoria was on tenterhooks; this was the biggest test she had ever faced in her life.

Because the person sitting opposite him was not his father, not Shangluo's father, but the father of the person who was going on a blind date in Shangluo.

Moreover, she had met this person before.

The retired emperor, who once used the reign title Taihe, has not been seen by the public for an unknown period of time.

The emperor's name must be avoided, a practice that still exists today. However, the Ming Dynasty adopted the principle of not avoiding either of the two characters in the name. For example, Zhu Xianxi's name did not avoid either the character "Xian" or "Xi," unless the two characters were used together. If these two characters were avoided individually, it would be a serious matter, because without the character "Xi," organic chemistry classes would be impossible.

Emperor Taihe's name actually contains a common character with the radical for "wood" (木). If his name had to be avoided, then a large portion of the textbooks across the country would have to be changed.

Victoria didn't even know his name, because that was something from the previous generation. She wouldn't have known the emperor's name at all unless she specifically inquired.

"Hello." She stood up and bowed. At this moment, she didn't know what etiquette to use to greet Emperor Taihe, so she could only use the safe phrase "Hello."

"Hello. Actually, you've misunderstood it. We don't usually pronounce it like this. The correct pronunciation of this character is '恁'. In Mandarin, it doesn't mean a first-person singular honorific but rather a first-person plural honorific or a first-person genitive."

"Huh?" Victoria was stunned.

Victoria's shock also made Emperor Taihe hesitate slightly: "Oh, I'm sorry, I teach Mandarin, so I pay more attention to this. Logically speaking, we shouldn't be so strict with foreigners."

Every emperor of the Zhu family held a teaching position at the Imperial Academy (Guozijian). This was a strict rule and one of the few mandatory requirements for being an emperor. It was an ancient custom for the emperor to lecture at the Imperial Academy, and in principle, the emperor was to deliver the first lesson of each academic year.

After all, the emperor is the role model for everyone. If one cannot possess exceptional scholarship, then the concept of "wisdom" is meaningless. This is also the foundation of the imperial examination system, which requires that governance from top to bottom be conducted by scholars with specialized expertise.

Of course, as Shangluo had already learned, the purpose of this reform was not for long-term interests; its initial intention was actually quite malicious: to foster academic cliques and factional strife. The fact that it ultimately succeeded was mainly because the empire's boundless prosperity rendered factional strife based on personal interests unnecessary, instead promoting full competition within the court. Ultimately, things were done well.

Can human desires be satisfied? Theoretically, human desires are indeed endless. But if one had the power to govern the entire world undisputedly, and to wield the authority of a superior nation over the mundane world, coupled with the relative satisfaction of individual needs, then we would have the current cabinet and council of state:
There are simply too many things to do; governing the entire planet is an extremely demanding task. Just figuring out who you are, where you stand, and what you're supposed to do is already incredibly difficult for everyone. There's simply no time to exercise your moral compass, whether high or low, to be loyal to the country or to engage in petty self-interest. Things won't turn out exceptionally well, nor will they turn out exceptionally badly. Individual willpower alone can hardly make a visible impact on this colossal system, for both good and bad reasons. The most typical example is Grand Secretary Wen.

Did Grand Secretary Wen really not want to be greedy? Perhaps not. His household was small, consisting of only three people, including himself. Both he and his wife had jobs, and Wen Yuan was still in school. Even if he were to become completely greedy after indulging in sesame paste, he would only eat three meals a day and sleep on a small bed. He could certainly eat lavishly, but he actually had little time to enjoy food. He was too busy; a boxed lunch in the cabinet was usually enough. Given his limited free time and the court's resources, even if he spent all his free time indulging in gluttony, he wouldn't create a significant financial deficit.

Could he have more free time? Theoretically, yes. But if he freed up his time, who would take it would be beyond his control. Because if he didn't grasp certain information, someone else would immediately. He dared not rest for even a day. Under these circumstances, the fact that he specifically set aside time to guide Shangluo was already a huge sacrifice.

In this situation, the emperor himself naturally couldn't remain idle. Because, in principle, the emperor governs the realm through emptiness and stillness—but he cannot truly be empty and still. If he were truly both empty and still, the court would run wild like a husky. Even taking a few days off would require him to expend considerable effort to catch up with the current agenda.

In order to demonstrate their professionalism, just as the old ministers had to be skilled in music, chess, calligraphy and painting to make friends, they are now so busy that they don't even have time to eat and drink, but they also have to find time to do research.

Of course, while most of the research results are produced by the ambitious young researchers in the lab, they are still responsible for determining the research direction and publication. They should at least know what their lab is supposed to be doing.

Zhu Xianxi was no exception. Moreover, his work was particularly demanding because the teaching position at the Imperial Academy involved many ceremonial tasks, including the opening speech.

If the emperor was unable to speak, he would entrust the Grand Master of the Imperial Academy to do so on his behalf. This year, Zhu Xianxi was busy with spiritual work at the time, so the Grand Master Wen delivered the opening speech on his behalf, but he still frequently attended the classes afterwards.

However, Zhu Xianxi did not speak at the Imperial College very often, because his teaching position was in the Chemistry Department of the Imperial College, and he didn't really have much to say.

But Emperor Taihe was different. He studied at the Imperial Academy's Department of Literature, and after graduation, he stayed on as a teacher at the Imperial Academy until his retirement.

Throughout Wen Ge Lao's entire career, only during the final period was Zhu Xianxi in power; the rest of the time, it was all under Emperor Taihe's control. At that time, Wen Ge Lao's work was not very busy because Emperor Taihe was practically half the Chancellor of the Imperial Academy. He could attend almost all the meetings of the Imperial Academy, large and small, and governed the Imperial Academy as a second court. This was his unique way of governing. In contrast, Zhu Xianxi mainly influenced the court indirectly through his research.

Victoria realized that what stood before her was a weighty history. This was a far more conventional Chinese emperor than Zhu Xianxi, an emperor who was not so "empty-minded" as she thought.

But it was precisely this emperor, who had never been particularly serene, who ultimately chose true serene tranquility at the end of his career.

(End of this chapter)