During the conflicts with the Western Tribes in the past, Wen Yanran’s approach was to bide her time, amass strength, and strike with overwhelming force like thunder. Once the overall situation was under control, she would methodically manage the aftermath. However, when dealing with the east – a region whose people should, in theory, have been more aligned with the central authority – her attitude showed no signs of moderation.
Wen Yanran spoke unhurriedly, “Grant General of Charlots and Cavalry Tao Jia the authority to command with the imperial insignia, with Shi Zhuhe as his deputy. Inform them that after capturing the city, they must dismantle all fortresses and ensure that no one in the area harbors bandits. Should anyone refuse to comply, they are to be dealt with according to military law.”
The term “anyone” clearly extended beyond the soldiers, encompassing the local populace as well.
As the Emperor’s words fell, Du Daosi seemed to catch a whiff of something metallic and bloody in the air.
However, aside from dismantling the fortresses, Wen Yanran did not devise any specific tactics.
Dealing with the east indeed did not require overly intricate strategies. The previous war against the Western Tribes had primarily been a struggle between the central authority and regional warlords. Leaders like Wang You and her faction were experienced enough in field battles, assaults, and defensive warfare. As for the east, the main disruptive forces were the numerous powerful local families and commoners.
Yet despite the abundance of influential clans, there was no figure of sufficient prestige and capability among them. Hence, even though the rebels were large in number and divided into factions, they ultimately rallied under the leadership of figures like True Master Pingtai.
The world was worn to the bone, its people suffering beyond endurance – it should have erupted into chaos long ago. Yet societal order carries its own inertia. The east had endured for years, holding back until the death of Emperor Li, who embodied imperial authority and order, and the ascent of a new, rootless sovereign to the throne, before finally boiling over in rebellion.
Wen Yanran reflected that the troubles in the east were not merely immediate but would extend far into the future.
Tao Jia, dispatched to suppress the rebellion, was a seasoned general. His subordinates – Ren Feihong, Chen Ming, and Tao Jing – were all capable, and among the high-ranking officers, only Shi Zhuhe, whom she had yet to meet, was a less significant addition. With Tao Jia granted the authority to act independently, he would certainly be able to control his subordinates. As long as they did not encounter formidable opponents like Wang You, they could gradually reclaim the lost territories. Only when they advanced toward the enemy’s stronghold in the later stages would they likely face more challenging situations.
Suppressing the current rebellion would be straightforward. Yet even if figures like True Master Pingtai were eliminated, given the prevalence of fortified strongholds in the east, new uprisings would inevitably emerge sooner or later. Consequently, the central military forces would remain tied down there for a long time.
A prolonged military campaign, however, would inevitably lead to economic collapse.
Had Wen Yanran already concentrated the empire’s power entirely in her own hands, her ultimate goal of being a tyrannical ruler would have rendered her largely indifferent to how many years the military might be tied down in conflict or how much grain and resources would be consumed. However, at this moment, the threat represented by Wen Hong in the north remained unresolved, requiring vigilance against potential unrest. Moreover, the restless Wuliu tribe along the borders was also stirring, leaving no room for endless entanglement with the east. To ensure absolute security, she decisively and forcefully ordered the outright dismantling of those strongholds.
As for this method of suppressing rebellion – which disrupted the original social order -Wen Yanran felt no psychological burden whatsoever. After all, as a ruler on a path to tyranny, maintaining stability for just a few years or a decade was sufficient. Much like Emperor Li, who had shamelessly passed on his mess to his successor, she could simply continue the game of passing the buck, handing down the current problems to those who followed.
After a moment of hesitation, Du Daosi still spoke up, “Even if General Tao dismantles the local fortress manors, once the army withdraws, they will likely be restored to their original state.”
Fortress manors could be demolished, but they could also be rebuilt. Unless the military remained stationed there as a deterrent, their resurgence was inevitable. The Emperor could send inspectors, but locals could just as easily claim threats from roaming bandits and organize militia for self-defense. Even the authorities could not forbid people from resisting, and if resistance was necessary, constructing basic military installations would be seen as entirely reasonable.
The saying “the sky is high and the emperor is far away” was no mere platitude. For these people, many of the central government’s orders only carried authority when enforced by a powerful presence. Since they saw no benefit in aligning with the court, they would continue to pay mere lip service and go through the motions.
If dealing with aristocratic families, the Emperor could still use the threat of barring them from official positions as a means of control. However, the reputation of the powerful clans in the east was already tarnished, and during Emperor Li’s reign, incidents like the Ma family rebellion had erupted. Under normal circumstances, they fell far short of the standards for holding office under the court. For them, the only things worth caring about were population, land, and wealth. If the court attempted to seize these, they were genuinely capable of putting up a desperate fight.
If the court were to physically eliminate all these people, it would lead to economic collapse and the disintegration of order.
This was precisely why Dian Wue’s advisors believed the court would refrain from employing overly harsh measures.
Wen Yanran nodded, seeming to agree with Du Daosi’s perspective. “The chief officials in the eastern commanderies and counties have proven ineffective in protecting their cities. We should select capable individuals to govern and care for the people. Yet I wonder where such talents are to be found?”
At these words, Du Daosi’s gaze suddenly shifted.
Wen Yanran continued unhurriedly, “I intend to establish official schools and hold examinations in that region to appoint officials.”
She had no plans to immediately organize a large-scale examination covering the entire nation. Instead, she aimed to conduct a temporary assessment in the reclaimed areas of the east, selecting chief officials for cities that had lost their administrators.
Wen Yanran added, “Also, inform the laborers working on the Liubo Canal: if they participate in the examination and are appointed to an official position, they and one relative will be exempted from labor service.”
Du Daosi had initially intended to mention that the major clans in the south had been relatively compliant, yet they were now being conscripted for canal construction, while those in the east, who had caused such significant unrest, were being offered opportunities for official appointments. This stark contrast was bound to stir resentment. However, seeing that the Emperor had already considered this without her needing to point it out, she simply bowed silently.
In truth, although Wen Yanran’s diligence in governance was noteworthy, the limitations of an individual’s capacity meant it was impossible for her to manage every detail comprehensively. Du Daosi was unaware that the Emperor’s primary aim in this arrangement was to deploy more personnel to the east. Had Du Daosi reminded her that such an approach might cause dissatisfaction among the southern gentry, Wen Yanran might indeed have reconsidered her strategy.
Under the monopoly of educational resources, even if officials were appointed through a fair examination system, those who managed to secure a share would mostly come from influential families or powerful clans. Yet the mere hint from the central government of an intent to redistribute these resources was enough to stir restlessness among the powerful clans once more.
Wen Yanran stated, “The officials selected this time will serve a term of three years. Several imperial censors will be dispatched to supervise the localities, with annual performance evaluations. The dismantling of fortresses will be included in these assessments. If a chief official proves incompetent or lacks virtue, they will be removed from office.”
The authority to appoint officials rested in her hands, and Wen Yanran planned to use official positions as bait, encouraging local powerful clans to turn against each other. She also intended to assign officials who had previously surrendered from the south to these areas, fostering competition among them.
Though the Great Zhou dynasty was now in its twilight, the legitimacy conferred by official recognition from the court still carried significant weight. In the minds of many, conflicting emotions coexisted – contempt for the central authority and a deep-seated desire for its acknowledgment.
Under the monopoly of educational resources, even if officials were appointed through a fair examination system, those who managed to secure a share would mostly come from influential families or powerful clans. Yet the mere hint from the central government of an intent to redistribute these resources was enough to stir restlessness among the powerful clans once more.
Wen Yanran stated, “The officials selected this time will serve a term of three years. Several imperial censors will be dispatched to supervise the localities, with annual performance evaluations. The dismantling of strongholds will be included in these assessments. If a chief official proves incompetent or lacks virtue, they will be removed from office.”
The authority to appoint officials rested in her hands, and Wen Yanran planned to use official positions as bait, encouraging local powerful clans to turn against each other. She also intended to assign officials who had previously surrendered from the south to these areas, fostering competition among them.
Though the Great Zhou dynasty was now in its twilight, the legitimacy conferred by official recognition from the court still carried significant weight. In the minds of many, conflicting emotions coexisted – contempt for the central authority and a deep-seated desire for its acknowledgment.
After understanding the Emperor’s words, Du Daosi fell silent for a moment.
In her view, the current emperor displayed a remarkably open-minded approach to selecting and appointing capable individuals.
Though Du Daosi hailed from an influential family and held her own biases, she did not believe that the Emperor’s use of examination results to appoint officials amounted to favoring the unworthy while sidelining the virtuous. Instead, she felt she had glimpsed answers to certain long-standing questions.
With a preliminary intent in mind, the decree could not be issued immediately. A proper framework needed to be drafted first. Wen Yanran then summoned Song Wenshu to the palace, hoping he could recommend suitable individuals to teach at the official schools in the east.
Song Wenshu held the position of Imperial Censor, but in this dynasty, the duties of many high-ranking officials overlapped significantly. Since the Emperor sought his counsel, he pondered carefully before offering his response:
“Your Majesty’s proposal is a strategy to stabilize the state and bring order to the people. However, establishing official schools in various regions may inevitably lead to favoritism and backdoor dealings.”
Song Wenshu was somewhat concerned. If schools were set up locally and official examinations were conducted within them, it would essentially delegate the authority to appoint officials entirely to the localities, making it impossible for the central government to exercise oversight.
Wen Yanran nodded. “It is only due to the turmoil in the east that this measure is being temporarily implemented. Once the conflict is resolved in the future, the examination site will naturally be relocated to Jianping.”
Song Wenshu bowed. “In that case, I will carry out the order as commanded.”
Wen Yanran glanced at Song Wenshu and smiled. “Then I shall trouble you with this matter, Minister Song.”
In fact, the Great Zhou dynasty already had a system of appointing officials through examinations, such as the Imperial Academy in the capital. However, relying solely on examinations could not truly break down class barriers – those from humble backgrounds lacked the financial means and connections to pursue education. Long before Emperor Li’s reign, the examination system had gradually become a mere formality.
To genuinely introduce new talent, it was necessary to start with the accessibility of educational resources. Only by lowering the cost of learning could more people participate.
Wen Yanran understood that this approach was the right path toward advancing the dynasty. However, any significant reform could not be achieved overnight; instead, it would inevitably provoke substantial controversy. If she devoted great effort to pushing such changes, those with genuine foresight in the court would view it as “the Emperor striving for the nation’s benefit.” By the time they realized that these measures would bring long-term benefits at the expense of the present generation, it would already be too late.
Wen Yanran thought to herself that, in order to become a truly tyrannical ruler, she must find a way to unite all forces for her own purposes. She needed not only to gather sycophantic ministers to serve her but also to involve loyal officials in her plans.
As she deliberated with her ministers, the long-dormant game interface trembled once more before quickly falling silent again.
Wen Yanran casually opened it and glanced at the screen –
[System:
Player has achieved the accomplishment [▇▇▇▇]. Wishing you a pleasant gaming experience.]
The black frame remained unchanged, but just as Wen Yanran was about to close the message, the panel suddenly glitched. A stream of garbled characters flashed before her eyes, and though she strained to make sense of them, she could barely distinguish the two characters “高” (high) and “远” (far).
“…”
So what did “high” and “far” mean together?
After a moment’s thought, Wen Yanran realized the phrase must be “好高骛远” (aiming high but lacking the means) – an achievement perfectly suited to a tyrannical ruler.
She mused that although the Guide to Becoming a Tyrant panel was usually of little practical use, it always appeared at certain moments to encourage her to continue steadfastly down her current path.
Due to many terms and functions related to the “virtuous ruler” series being blocked, even if the system wished to provide guidance, it was limited in its ability to offer further hints – the four blocked characters were actually “高瞻远瞩” (far-sighted and visionary).
