Transmigrating to the Chongzhen era, I started by confiscating the Donglin Party.

November 15th, the sixteenth year of the Chongzhen reign.

Snow stopped.

The snow, which had fallen for more than ten days, suddenly stopped at midnight last night. When I opened the window this morning, Nanjing was covered in a blanket of white, and the sky was a clean, cold, bluish-white.

The sunlight shone on the snow, reflecting a blinding light, and the icicles on the eaves began to drip water.

At three-quarters past Chen hour, a fast horseman broke through the thin ice on the official road and galloped in through the Jubao Gate. The courier on horseback had three red feathers stuck in his back—a sign of a great victory in the 600-li urgent dispatch.

"The Great Victory at Hejian—!"

A hoarse shout pierced the chilly air. Shops along the street opened one after another, and the snow-shoveling workers, peddlers carrying loads, and women who had gotten up early to buy vegetables all stopped what they were doing and turned to look at the galloping horse.

The sound of horses' hooves wasn't loud on the snow, but everyone heard it.

"Great Victory at Hejian—General Sun slays 7,000 men, and Hauge retreats a hundred miles!"

The sound faded into the distance, leaving behind a hoofprint mixed with snow and mud, heading straight for the imperial city.

The crowd fell silent for a moment.

Then, a long-suppressed cheer erupted.

"We won! We won!"

"Thank God!"

An old man selling steamed buns suddenly squatted down, covered his face, and his shoulders trembled violently. His son had died in Xuanfu last year, and his body had never been found.

A woman selling vegetables nearby wiped her eyes, grabbed two cabbages from her basket, and handed them to a passing soldier on patrol: "Sir, take these! They're homegrown, worthless!"

The soldier was stunned and wanted to refuse, but the woman had already turned around and walked away quickly, her back slightly unsteady.

More things were crammed in—eggs, dry rations, and even half a piece of cured meat. The soldiers stood there helplessly, their eyes gradually reddening.

This battle lasted for almost three years. From Liaodong to Xuanda, from Henan to Huguang, we heard so many reports of defeats that we were sick of them, and we saw wave after wave of routed soldiers. This was the first truly significant victory.

It wasn't about defending a particular city.

They drove the Tartars back and crippled them.

The news spread like wildfire throughout the city.

Wenhua Hall.

Li Ce stood before the map, his finger resting on the two characters "Hejian". Sun Chuanting's military report lay spread out on the table, the ink still fresh, the words exuding the scent of blood and snow.

"On the fifth day of the eleventh month, at the hour of Si (9-11 AM), the battle commenced. The Qing vanguard numbered approximately eight thousand, and their morale was low due to three days without food. Our army first blunted their advance with artillery fire, while Zuo Liangyu's troops launched an attack from the east to lure the enemy, and Gao Jie led cavalry to encircle them from the west... After two hours of fierce fighting, the Qing army collapsed. Over seven thousand three hundred were killed in battle, one thousand two hundred were captured, and countless horses, armor, and weapons were seized. Hauge was wounded and led his remaining troops northward. Our army suffered two thousand seven hundred casualties."

"Zuo Liangyu's troops fought to the death, suffering nearly half casualties. He himself was wounded by an arrow in the arm, yet he still wielded his sword and directed the battle."

"Among the corpses left by the Qing army, about 30% were Mongol vassals, and many were deserters. According to the confession of a captured Mongol commander, Hauge and Dorgon were already irreconcilable enemies."

After reading it, Li Ce remained silent for a long time.

Inside the hall, the charcoal fire burned brightly. Ni Yuanlu, Shi Kefa, and Li Ruolian stood silently below. From outside the window came distant cheers, faint and indistinct, as if separated by a layer of water.

"Your Majesty," Ni Yuanlu finally spoke, his voice trembling slightly, "this is the greatest victory our nation has achieved in recent years! We should immediately announce it to the world to boost morale!"

Li Ce turned around, his face showing no joy, but rather a deep weariness.

"Issue the decree," he said calmly. "Sun Chuanting is promoted to Grand Tutor of the Crown Prince, awarded five thousand taels of silver, and bestowed with a bullfighting robe. Zuo Liangyu is promoted to Duke of Chu, officially appointed General Who Conquers the Barbarians, and awarded three thousand taels of silver. The fallen soldiers will receive double the compensation; the wounded will be treated with all their might by the Imperial Medical Bureau."

"Your subject obeys the decree."

"Furthermore," Li Ce paused, "order Sun Chuanting not to pursue Hauge. After clearing the battlefield, the main force should retreat to Hejian to rest. Send small groups of cavalry to harass him—the goal is to ensure Hauge returns alive, alive to see Dorgon."

Li Ruolian's eyes lit up: "Your Majesty wants to..."

"Internal strife within the Qing court is more effective than killing ten thousand soldiers." Li Ce walked to the window, gazing at the dazzling snow outside. "Tell Sun Chuanting that his task this winter is to reorganize the army, train troops, and consolidate the spoils of war. Before spring, I do not want him to fight any more major battles."

"Your subject understands."

"Any news from Wu Sangui's side?"

"Yes." Li Ruolian took out a secret letter from her sleeve. "Written by Wu Sangui on the eighth day of the eleventh month. He said... 'I will definitely return to Nanjing this winter to pay homage to Your Majesty, to fulfill the bond between father and son, and the duty of a subject.'"

Li Ce took the letter. The paper was ordinary, the handwriting neat, even a little stiff. But the last character, "义" (righteousness), was written with exceptionally heavy ink, the force penetrating the back of the paper.

"He's asking for a promise." Li Ce put down the letter. "He wants me to promise that if he comes, he won't be discarded like a dog after the rabbit is caught."

"Then Your Majesty..."

"Give it to him," Li Ce said calmly. "Convey my imperial decree: General Wu is a man of great righteousness, and I am very pleased."

He is now enfeoffed as Duke of Liao, a hereditary title, and retains his position as Commander-in-Chief of Shanhaiguan. His father, Wu Xiang, was the Junior Guardian of the Crown Prince in the Jin Dynasty and was granted a villa by Xuanwu Lake.

"I order General Wu to travel south on a chosen day. I will be in Nanjing, awaiting his arrival to discuss the grand plan for the Northern Expedition."

Ni Yuanlu hesitated: "Your Majesty, such a generous reward, is it...?"

"In extraordinary times, extraordinary measures are needed." Li Ce interrupted him. "Zuo Liangyu needs to be appeased, and Wu Sangui needs to be won over. Only when these two are stabilized can we truly hold the land north of the Yangtze River in our hands."

He walked back to the map and slowly moved his finger from Hejian to Beijing.

"Next spring, we will launch the Northern Expedition. This is a national policy, and we cannot afford to fail."

The excitement brought by the good news lasted for three days.

On November 18th, the prisoner-of-war delegation sent by Sun Chuanting arrived in Nanjing. More than 300 Qing soldiers, strung together with ropes, were escorted through the long street by the Imperial Guards.

The crowds lined the streets to watch, raining down rotten vegetable leaves, rotten eggs, and stones. The prisoners, heads bowed, staggered along, their bodies quickly becoming filthy.

But there were also those who remained calm.

A young man who looked like a scholar stood on the second floor of the teahouse, looking down at the noisy crowd below. He whispered to his companion, "Winning a battle is a good thing. But look at those prisoners, most of them are Mongols, there are only a few dozen real Manchus. Hauge's main force has probably already withdrawn."

His companion sighed, "Winning is already a feat. The imperial court these past few years... sigh."

"It's not easy." The scholar's gaze turned towards the imperial city. "So I'm thinking about what His Majesty should do next. Celebration alone is not enough."

His premonition soon came true.

That afternoon, the Ministry of Rites posted a notice: Tomorrow at noon, His Majesty will hold a grand ceremony to present captured prisoners at the Meridian Gate and host a banquet to reward meritorious soldiers. At that time, a momentous event "concerning the fate of the nation and benefiting future generations" will be announced.

A large crowd had gathered in front of the notice.

"Concerning the fate of the nation? Benefiting future generations? This tone..."

"Could it be that they're about to launch a northern expedition?"

"No. The Northern Expedition was about fighting wars, this refers to 'benefiting future generations'..."

There was a lot of discussion and all sorts of guesses.

The news also reached Longjiang Guangong Workshop.

Liu Rushi was discussing improvements to the water-powered spinning wheel with Song Yingxing and Wang Zheng when Zhao Chenshi rushed in excitedly: "Mr. Liu! Everyone outside is saying that His Majesty is going to announce some incredibly good news tomorrow!"

Liu Rushi put down the blueprints and walked to the window. Inside the workshop, the female workers chatted quietly as they spun yarn, smiles on their faces. These smiles were different from those three months ago—back then they were numb and resigned. Now, there was a glimmer of light.

"Mr. Song," she suddenly asked, "what do you mean by 'benefiting all generations'?"

Song Yingxing stroked his beard and pondered for a moment: "Agriculture and sericulture are the foundation, craftsmanship is the skill, and education is the way. Those who can make lasting contributions in these three areas can be said to benefit generations to come."

Wang Zheng added, "It must be something that can be passed down and benefit future generations."

Liu Rushi nodded and said nothing more.

She remembered the handkerchief embroidered with plum blossoms, Wu Sangui's reply, and Zhao Chenshi's words about "reed catkins" on that snowy night. These subtle things, like water, permeated and changed something.

Perhaps what Your Majesty is about to announce is something that can make these "waters" converge into rivers.

November 19th, noon.

The sun shone brightly after the snowfall. Banners fluttered and armored soldiers stood in rows in the square before the Meridian Gate. Civil and military officials stood solemnly according to their rank, while noble generals wore ceremonial robes; the atmosphere was both solemn and austere.

The ceremony of presenting the captives was conducted according to ancient rites. The official in charge of the ceremony announced the order, and the captives were led to the imperial road and made to kneel on the ground. Ni Yuanlu, the Minister of War, stepped forward and read the victory report aloud, his voice echoing across the empty square.

Li Ce sat upright atop the Meridian Gate tower, dressed in imperial robes, his face expressionless. Sunlight shone on the twelve imperial symbols, making the golden threads glitter.

The ceremony concluded. As is customary, the emperor would offer a few words of encouragement before the court adjourned.

But Li Ce didn't move.

He slowly stood up and walked to the edge of the city wall. The wind was strong, making his sleeves flutter loudly. Below, thousands of eyes were watching him.

"My lords," his voice, though not loud, carried clearly throughout the square, "today's presentation of the captives has greatly pleased me. However, I wish to ask—what is the source of this victory?"

The officials remained silent.

"Was the victory due to Sun Chuanting's brilliant military strategy? Was it due to Zuo Liangyu's relentless fighting? Was it due to the soldiers' valiant efforts?" Li Ce paused, his gaze sweeping across the room. "All of these, and none of these."

He raised his hand and pointed north: "This victory, in the final analysis, is due to the wisdom accumulated by our Chinese nation over thousands of years, and to the classics, skills, military strategies, and tactics passed down by our ancestors with painstaking effort! Without these, even a million soldiers would be nothing more than a tree without roots or water without a source!"

The voice suddenly rose:

"Today, I not only wish to commend the military achievements of my generals, but also to demonstrate the essence of civilization!"

He turned to Wang Chengen beside him and said, "Issue the decree: Move the capital to Wenyuan Pavilion. All officials of the fourth rank and above in the capital, representatives of meritorious soldiers, teachers and students of the Imperial Academy, and... representatives of craftsmen from workshops shall accompany me."

Upon receiving the decree, the entire audience was stunned.

Wenyuan Pavilion? What are we going there for?

But no one dared to ask. The procession began, and Li Ce descended from the city wall and ascended the imperial carriage. The officials followed behind, filled with immense doubt.

The procession passed through the imperial city and arrived in front of the Wenyuan Pavilion.

This is a grand palace-style building with a double-eaved hip roof, the yellow glazed tiles gleaming warmly in the post-snow sunlight. Normally, it is quiet and deserted, save for a few old eunuchs who are responsible for sweeping and cleaning. The door is locked year-round, the lock itself rusted.

Li Ce alighted from the imperial carriage and walked to the tightly closed gate.

Wang Chengen presented a huge bronze key. Li Ce took it and inserted it into the keyhole himself.

"Click."

The lock, sealed for many years, was opened.

Li Ce reached out and pushed open the heavy vermilion door.

"Squeak—"

A musty, dusty smell filled the air. The room was dimly lit, with only rows of towering bookshelves visible, standing like silent giants in the shadows.

Li Ce was the first to go in.

The officials followed hesitantly. When their eyes adjusted to the dim light and they could see the contents of the bookshelf, everyone gasped.

book.

It's all books.

The towering bookshelves stretched from the ground to the ceiling, each shelf divided into ten layers, each layer neatly stacked with books covered in blue cloth. The books were almost uniform in thickness and size, with yellow labels on their spines indicating their category and volume.

Looking around, the bookshelves were densely packed, stretching all the way into the depths of the palace, with no end in sight.

"This...this is..." an old scholar's voice trembled.

"The Yongle Encyclopedia." Li Ce's voice echoed in the empty hall. "In the first year of the Yongle reign, Emperor Chengzu ordered its compilation. It collected more than 8,000 kinds of classics from the pre-Qin period to the early Ming dynasty, in 22,877 volumes and 11,095 books. It covers everything from classics, history, philosophy, literature, astronomy, geography, yin and yang, medicine, divination, Buddhism, Taoism, and arts and crafts, encompassing everything without exception."

He walked to the nearest bookshelf and pulled out a book. The blue cloth cover was faded, but it was well-preserved. He opened it and handed it to Ni Yuanlu behind him: "Ni Qing, take a look."

Ni Yuanlu took it with both hands, and after just one glance, her hands began to tremble.

It was a complete copy of the "Complete Essentials of Military Classics." Moreover, it was a color-illustrated edition meticulously drawn by palace painters during the Yongle era, depicting weapon structures and formation changes with lifelike detail. Compared to this, the so-called "secret editions" he had seen at the Ministry of War were nothing more than crude scribbles.

"Your Majesty, this...this is truly..." Ni Yuanlu cried, tears streaming down his face, "I have never seen such exquisite military treatises and diagrams in my entire life!"

Li Ce then walked to another bookshelf and pulled out a few books: "These are illustrated manuals on machinery not included in 'Tiangong Kaiwu'. These are secret methods of cultivating paddy fields in Jiangnan not recorded in 'Nongzheng Quanshu'. These are illustrated manuals of overseas medicinal materials not recorded in 'Bencao Gangmu'."

He walked, smoked, and talked.

With each word spoken, the expressions on the faces of the officials changed.

Officials from the Ministry of Works rushed to the bookshelf of medical instruments, their hands trembling as they flipped through the pages; officials from the Ministry of Revenue surrounded the books on agricultural administration, their eyes shining; the head of the Imperial Medical Academy held a medical book, so excited that he was incoherent.

Liu Rushi and Song Yingxing stood at the back of the crowd. Looking at the vast sea of ​​books before her, Liu Rushi suddenly understood why His Majesty had summoned the representatives of the workshops.

Song Yingxing was already in tears. He had devoted his life to writing "Tiangong Kaiwu" (The Exploitation of the Works of Nature), and prided himself on his extensive reading. But here, he realized that his knowledge was but a drop in the ocean. He rushed to a shelf of books, opened one on metallurgy, and after reading only a few lines, he was shocked—the steelmaking method described there was 30% more efficient than the best method he had ever tested!

"Your Majesty!" Song Yingxing suddenly turned around and knelt down in Li Ce's direction. "Your Majesty, I beg you to grant me permission to study in this pavilion! I wish to dedicate the rest of my life to recording all the ingenious techniques within, so as to benefit the world!"

As soon as he knelt down, several officials from the Ministry of Works followed suit.

Immediately afterwards, doctors from the Imperial Medical Bureau, the Imperial Observatory, and even the Imperial Academy all knelt down.

"We humbly beg Your Majesty to grant us permission to enter the cabinet for further study!"

The sound echoed within the hall.

Li Ce stood in the center of the sea of ​​books, looking at the kneeling officials, and finally a faint smile appeared on his face.

This is exactly what he wants.

"Rise, all of you," he said. "I brought you here today not just so you could see me."

He walked to the center of the main hall, where there was a huge long table made of rosewood. Wang Chengen had already prepared writing materials.

Li Ce picked up his brush and wrote the first line on a blank edict:

"By the grace of Heaven, the Emperor decrees: From this day forward, the complete Yongle Encyclopedia in the Wenyuan Pavilion will be open to all scholars and common people throughout the land."

I paused, then continued writing:

"A Grand Hall was established to oversee all affairs. It was divided into four departments: the Department of Natural Sciences, which studied crafts and skills; the Department of Military Affairs, which compiled military classics; the Department of Economics, which studied agriculture, commerce, and governance; and the Department of Literature and Education, which taught etiquette and literature."

"All citizens of the Great Ming Dynasty, regardless of their background, can enter the cabinet as 'scholars' as long as they pass the examination, and study the corresponding classics. The results of their research, after being reviewed by the cabinet, can be published throughout the world to benefit all people."

"The first batch of bachelor's degree positions: two hundred. Starting today, the Ministry of Rites will be in charge of the examination and selection."

After writing, he put down his pen, picked up the imperial seal, and stamped it down heavily.

"boom--"

Just then, a clap of thunder sounded outside the hall.

Dull, lingering, as if it came from the depths of the earth.

Everyone was startled and looked up outside the hall. The sky was clear and blue; where did the thunder come from?

Only Li Ce knew that this was not a bolt from the blue.

This is a thunderclap in people's hearts.

He turned around to face the officials, to those excited, confused, and shocked faces.

"My lords," his voice was calm, yet it drowned out the distant thunder, "In the past few months, I have implemented new policies and strengthened the military. Many people have doubts, misunderstandings, and even criticisms in secret, saying that I act arbitrarily and do not follow ancestral rules."

He paused, his gaze sharp as lightning:

"Today, I tell you. Everything I have done—the improvement of flintlock muskets, the regulations of workshops, the drill manuals of the new army, and even the treatment of the gentry in Jiangnan and the strategies for dealing with Zuo Liangyu and Wu Sangui—did not come from nowhere."

He raised his hand and pointed to the endless bookshelves around him:

"The answers lie within this treasure trove."

"I am simply finding them, wiping away the dust, and letting those who should use them use them where they should be used."

The hall was deathly silent.

The only sounds were heavy breathing and the occasional soft rustling of pages turning.

"Where is Zuo Liangyu's messenger?" Li Ce suddenly asked.

A middle-aged man dressed in military robes hurriedly stepped forward and knelt down: "Your subject... Your subject is here."

"Go back and tell the Duke of Chu," Li Ce said, looking at him. "If he truly wants to be a general of the Ming Dynasty, rather than a warlord who controls his own territory, have him send someone to the Military Equipment Department of the Grand Hall. There are things he should learn here."

"I... obey your order!"

"Liu Rushi".

Liu Rucong stepped out from the crowd, curtsied, and said, "Your subject is here."

"The technical challenges of the workshop, the improvement of the spinning wheel, the substitution of cotton, and even the future management regulations—all these can be found on the shelves of the Science of Natural Sciences. Bring your people and come to learn."

"Your subject obeys the decree." Liu Rushi's voice was steady, but her fingertips trembled slightly.

Li Ce looked at everyone one last time:

"From this day forward, the Ming Dynasty will take a different path."

"We rely not only on swords, but also on this place—"

He tapped his temple:

"And here."

His hand pointed to the vast sea of ​​books.

"Step down. The Grand Ceremony Pavilion will hold its first assessment in three days, which I will personally preside over."

The officials left the Wenyuan Pavilion in a daze.

The sunlight was blinding, and the snow reflected the light, causing many people to walk a long way before turning back to look.

The palace, silent for many years, seemed to be infused with new life under the clear sky after the snow. It was no longer just a warehouse storing piles of old paper.

It is the spark.

It was Li Ce who lit the first fire to illuminate the way forward.

Liu Rushi walked at the very back. When she turned around, she saw His Majesty still standing at the entrance of the main hall, his hands behind his back gazing at the sky.

His back was straight, yet there was an indescribable loneliness about him.

She suddenly remembered something His Majesty had once said:

"In this life, I do not seek to be remembered in history, but only to leave a path for future generations to walk on."

She didn't understand then.

Now, I understand a little better.

She quickened her pace and headed out of the palace. There was still much to do in the workshop.

With the assessment imminent, she needed to let Zhao Chenshi and the others give it a try as well.

What if?

Night fell.

Li Ce sat alone in the Wenhua Hall, with the general catalog of the Yongle Encyclopedia spread out in front of him.

The candlelight flickered, illuminating his gaunt profile.

Wang Chengen quietly entered: "Your Majesty, it's time for your meal."

"Leave it there." Li Ce didn't look up. "Any new news from Wu Sangui's side?"

"A secret report has just arrived. After receiving the imperial decree, Wu Sangui secluded himself for half a day. Upon emerging, he ordered all the generals of the Guan-Ning Army to thoroughly study the 'Summary of Military Preparedness' bestowed by His Majesty. He also said... that before the beginning of spring, he would personally go to Nanjing to 'pay homage' at the Grand Hall of Ceremonies."

Li Ce smiled.

"Pilgrimage...that's a good word."

He closed his eyes and looked out the window.

The snow has started falling again, fine and delicate, dancing in the glow of the lanterns.

"Send an order to Sun Chuanting," he said softly. "Have him select one hundred literate and quick-witted junior officers and send them to Nanjing immediately. The Military Equipment Department of the Imperial Palace needs fresh blood."

"As you command."

The hall returned to silence.

Li Ce leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

Many images flashed through my mind—modern memories, omens of civilization being tarnished.

In the cold, damp warehouse, insects and mold rotted; I saw countless wisdoms tampered with, extracted, and castrated beyond recognition under the guise of "orthodoxy."

He "heard" the sighs of later generations of students holding incomplete books, struggling to find their true meaning but failing to grasp it; he felt the chilling coldness of a glorious and splendid civilization being forcibly distorted, suppressed, or even interrupted.

"Cultural break..." Li Ce chewed on these two cold words in his mind. A cultural break is more terrifying than the collapse of a dynasty. A dynasty may rise again after its fall; but once the lifeblood of civilization is severed or polluted, it is as difficult as climbing to heaven to reconnect.

He picked up his brush, soaked it in thick ink, and wrote eight characters heavily on a blank sheet of rice paper. Each stroke was powerful, penetrating the paper, as if to etch this vow into the very marrow of history:

"Civilization continues, and this is where it begins."

Chinese civilization cannot afford to lose! To lose a battle would mean a global systemic erosion of our civilization, completely erasing all its memories!

We will be Xiangling!!! Not Zhen Yinglian...