A thunderous voice echoed from the city tower. The chief of the Wuliu tribe felt his ears ringing, and for a moment, he could hardly maintain his composure. He wanted to say something, but when he opened his mouth, no sound came out. His throat was filled with the taste of rust, and blood seeped from his ears.
The people of this world were experiencing the power of gunpowder for the first time. The rebels inside Linyuan City immediately fell into great panic, almost believing they had been struck by divine punishment.
At this moment, most people in the city had already lost their combat effectiveness. However, the city walls on the frontier were plastered with such thick cement that the government troops could not break through just yet.
Zhong Zhiwei stood on the earthen tower, gazing into the distance toward Linyuan City.
After suffering this dimensionality-reducing strike from gunpowder, the rebels’ morale had collapsed utterly. It was only a matter of time before the government forces claimed victory. This had nothing to do with tactics – it was a complete crushing by technological superiority.
Zhong Zhiwei said softly, “The wind is rising.”
A medicine scholar approached Zhong Zhiwei and bowed to her. “General, please deploy the trebuchets.”
With the spread of cement, the sturdiness of city walls had greatly improved, and the use of old-style trebuchets had gradually diminished. Fortunately, Dingyi still had some reserves in stock.
Having witnessed the power of gunpowder, Zhong Zhiwei readily authorized the deployment of the trebuchets, then asked, “What exactly are you planning to do?”
The medicine scholar replied a few sentences, then, noticing Zhong Zhiwei’s apparent doubt, smiled and said, “Talk is cheap. We have studied for years, and only today can we finally put our skills to full use. Please, General, wait and see.”
The stones used by trebuchets could often weigh as much as 50kg. Instead, the medicine scholars placed some clay pots on the launching mechanism. When the mechanism was triggered, those pots arced through the air in a parabola and landed precisely inside the city.
The rebel forces of the Wuliu tribe had been in great panic at first, but after the clay pots burst open, they instead revealed expressions of surprise and delight. “Do not panic! Inside are nothing but chaff and straw!”
The rebel commander here was, after all, a tribal chief. Seeing this, he forced himself to remain calm, drew his saber, and cut down a few of the most flustered junior officers, doing his utmost to maintain order.
The wind over Linyuan was not strong, but the dry chopped straw was so light that as soon as the wind caught it, it immediately scattered and floated up into the air.
Seeing this, the medicine scholars outside the city halted their action of hurling clay pots into the city and switched to firing flaming arrows.
Zhong Zhiwei did not understand what was happening. When she looked toward the medicine scholar, she saw the man take out a charcoal stick and a wooden board and begin writing something continuously.
“My teacher has instructed that we must record all the data in detail.”
Zhong Zhiwei grew somewhat interested and asked, “And may I ask which erudite’s tutelage you are under?”
“Reporting to the General, we are all students of Erudite Ren.”
After Wen Yanran realized that her transmigration path had undergone a fundamental change, she selected a number of intelligent and eager learners to teach some basic principles of physics and chemistry. Ren Feihong was among the most outstanding of them.
Just as Zhong Zhiwei was conversing with the medicine scholar, a tremendous roar suddenly echoed from afar across the camp.
This sound was like the splitting of the earth, like the collapse of a mountain. If the earlier explosions of gunpowder had already drained the color from many soldiers’ faces, this one nearly made their very souls flee in terror – they could hardly believe that such a thing should exist in this world.
In contrast, the seemingly frail medicine masters remained composed. They clapped each other’s hands in praise and delight, rejoicing, “Just as Her Majesty foretold!”
Zhong Zhiwei noticed that several of the medicine scholars were hastily writing something on their wooden boards, and among the words written were “dust explosion.”
“…”
As a typical subject of the Great Zhou, Zhong Zhiwei – even if she wasn’t particularly given to believing in mysticism – was nonetheless quite confident in the Emperor’s possession of the Mandate of Heaven and her omnipotence.
Others could not understand the principles behind the phenomenon and could only conclude that the Sovereign was exceptionally powerful, even capable of commanding thunderbolts at will. Only Wen Yanran herself knew the truth – scattered dry straw was itself a combustible dust. Due to its low mass, it could easily disperse in the air. Once ignited, it caused the fire to spread rapidly, the local pressure to surge dramatically, and ultimately, an explosion to occur.
However, even with combustible dust present, an explosion was not an inevitable occurrence. That it had turned out this way was probably due to the particularly poor luck of the Wuliu tribe…
While the medicine scholars were recording their data, over in Taikang, there was also a debate regarding the Emperor’s return journey.
The court ministers were largely divided into two factions. One faction hoped to simplify everything and have the Emperor return to Jianping as quickly as possible. The other faction insisted that all protocols for the Emperor’s royal tour must be strictly observed.
Neither side would yield to the other, and both had their own reasoning. The first faction argued that in times of war, everything could be adapted to expediency, with quelling the rebellion as the top priority. The other faction maintained that the more critical the situation, the more essential it was to maintain a steady posture – if the Emperor hurried back to Jianzhou in haste, the local gentry would also fall into panic.
When the Sovereign learned of this matter, she made a special point of finding time amidst her countless duties to check in on the debate between the two sides. She kindly reminded them to move a bit faster – ideally, to reach a conclusion before the fighting was over.
The reason she could act this way was, naturally, that Wen Yanran was full of confidence, believing that Zhong Zhiwei had the ability to quickly resolve the “Dingyi problem” – and this was without even factoring in that young General Shi, the one in the northern frontier who “doesn’t know how to fight.”
But this time, Wen Yanran rarely failed to guess correctly – although the Wuliu tribe was quickly dealt with, Zhong Zhiwei took this opportunity to march north and confront the kingdom of Luojia head-on.
In early May, news of the great victory at the Battle of Linyuan reached Taikang. Before the court officials could even finish debating the implications, they received word in early July that Luojia had been defeated and had submitted to the Great Zhou as a vassal state.
Luojia was not so easily conquered under normal circumstances, but from the moment they chose to oppose the Great Zhou, their defeat had already been sealed.
The memorial submitted by Zhong Zhiwei was quickly delivered to the Central Secretariat. Its content made people suspect that Shi Zhuhe had ghostwritten it, as the phrasing was exceptionally humble. The central idea was only this: she herself had actually rendered little merit, and the victory had been achieved solely due to the Sovereign’s enlightened leadership and the soldiers’ fearless devotion to duty.
In truth, as the commander of this campaign, Zhong Zhiwei spoke entirely from the heart. In her memorial, she expressed profound gratitude for the medicine scholars the Emperor had assigned to reinforce her, as well as for the white sugar, waterproof rubber, new-style supply wagons, telescopes, improved compass devices, field assembly signal flares, and so on, which had been transported to the northern frontier over the years.
While fully expressing the writer’s heartfelt sentiments, this memorial also contributed a wealth of important examination points spanning various disciplines for students of later generations.
Ever since the current Sovereign ascended the throne, there had been continuous wars both large and small, yet the people’s livelihoods had not been crippled as a result. A crucial reason for this was that no matter who they fought, they won very quickly, and as time went on, the victories became increasingly one-sided. By comparison, those chieftains of the Tai Province tribes who had died early on could rest easy in their graves – at least when dealing with them, Wen Yanran had personally commanded the campaign in Dan Province, showing a degree of earnest attention.
After the war was settled, the Dingyi border camps relocated large numbers of prisoners of war inland. These people were also easy to settle. The Sovereign issued a special imperial edict: Since the canal from Jianzhou to the southern territories had been dug so successfully, it was now time to open up the canal section from the Central Plains to the northern frontier. The laborers for digging were already available, so the Ministry of Works should transfer some experienced veterans to oversee the matter.
Arriving together with the decree to commence the excavation of the northern section of the canal were imperial edicts bestowing marquisates upon Xin Bian and Zhao Qushu, Vice Ministers of the Ministry of Works. Additionally, the Emperor specially selected outstanding talents from each of their clans to be admitted to the Imperial Academy. If they passed their assessments, they would be sent to serve as subordinate officials under the Marquis of Fengsu and the Marquis of Dujiang. Although these two people had no military achievements to their names, they had labored tirelessly for many years on the canal construction, exerting every effort. The merits they had earned were fully worthy of the rank of marquis.
On the canal front, not only did the principal officials receive commendations, but subordinate members were also rewarded according to their contributions. In terms of silver coins alone, the court bestowed sixty million coins, the majority of which came from the Imperial Household Department.
Wen Yanran’s actions also opened up another path to marquisate – marquisates granted for technical proficiency – beyond the conventional Great Zhou precedents of military merit-based marquisates and consort kin marquisates.
The Great Zhou’s current emphasis on technological development far surpassed that of any previous era. A key reason for this was that the Sovereign herself personally participated in the research and development of new technologies.
While recording data, Wen Yanran heard footsteps behind her. Without turning around, she asked with a smile, “Care to guess, State Preceptor, which side will win the argument?”
“Your Majesty has already reached a conclusion in your heart.”
The speaker was Wen Jingmei. In fact, as early as the ninth year of Zhaoming, those ministers who devoted themselves wholeheartedly to relieving the sovereign’s concerns had found the memorial that Grand Tutor Wen had previously submitted requesting to be removed from the clan – the one that had ultimately been set aside without response. They took it to the Central Secretariat to go through the formalities again, reassigning Wen Jingmei to his mother’s family line. The Tianfu Palace also selected a new heir to the State Preceptor position, but as that person was still young, Wen Jingmei would continue to act as regent for the Great Zhou’s sacrificial and ceremonial affairs in the meantime.
Hearing this reply, Wen Yanran turned her head slightly to glance at the newcomer. The two exchanged a knowing smile.
They had long shared an unspoken understanding; without need for many words, Wen Jingmei knew that the Emperor was asking about the matter of returning to Jianping. The two factions of ministers had been unable to reach an agreement earlier due to concerns over the northern war. But now, not only had the Wuliu surrendered, even Luojia had submitted and declared vassalage. Naturally, Taikang would now put on a full display of grandeur, escorting the Emperor in a stately procession back to Jianping, letting the whole world know that the Great Zhou had won its victory.
Wen Yanran beckoned to the State Preceptor, who was dressed in a deep robe adorned with crane patterns, and motioned for him to sit beside her.
After Wen Jingmei sat down as the Emperor had indicated, a gentle breeze passed over the palace wall, lightly brushing their sleeves together.
In truth, the piece of fabric pressing against the Great Zhou State Preceptor’s sleeve was imperially tailored – by any standard, light and soft. Yet in his perception, it seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, impossible to brush aside.
The early summer breeze carried the gentle, tender quality unique to the southern lands, and Wen Yanran’s voice drifted along with that gentle wind:
“Look ahead.”
Whenever it was, Wen Jingmei always followed the Sovereign’s will. He followed the Emperor’s line of sight and saw a pale greenish-blue firework lighting up the sky.
It was the middle of the shen hour (around 4:00 PM). Wen Jingmei had been informed earlier that the Emperor had ascended the palace wall today to observe the brightness of fireworks in broad daylight.
It was said that the firework being launched was named “Field-Use Positioning Signal Flare No. 2.” For this very reason, some civil officials, their expressions crumbling, had begged Wen Jingmei to go and offer a few words of persuasion – wasn’t a beautiful firework like that better called “Flowering Flying Flame” or “Silver River Star Bridge”?
The lingering flames in the sky slowly descended, trailing beautiful ribbons of light one after another.
“What do you think?”
Wen Jingmei pondered for a moment, then made his judgment in accordance with the Emperor’s way of thinking. “The brightness is still somewhat lacking.”
Wen Yanran seemed to smile slightly and told him, “Indeed it’s lacking. This was originally meant for nighttime appreciation.”
Chi Yi, who had been standing at attention to one side, seized the perfect moment and offered a friendly clarification. “Your Grace is mistaken. The fireworks being launched today are not the Field-Use Positioning Signal Flare No. 2.”
Wen Jingmei was briefly taken aback. He turned his head again to look at the sky, and upon careful observation, he noticed that the fireworks did indeed roughly split into five petals.
It wasn’t just the inner court officials who excelled at choosing the right moment to speak – the sovereign was equally skilled. Noticing the subtle change in her companion’s expression, Wen Yanran immediately said in a leisurely tone, “As for what it should be called, I believe you already have a conclusion in mind.”
“I am not, in fact, skilled at coming up with names.”
Wen Yanran smiled. “Then I can come up with it as well.”
Wen Jingmei said, “…That being said, I am still willing to give it my best effort.”
The Sovereign had been on the throne for many years, and the various secretaries around her had been replaced several times over. The Palace Attendant serving alongside her that day was from the Gao clan of Jianzhou. Although he gradually could no longer make out the specific content of their conversation, judging from the expressions of those involved, he could tell that Wen Jingmei would probably not have time to speak on behalf of the civil officials that day…
Fireworks, in the end, always have their moment of conclusion. The Sovereign slowly rose to her feet and had just signaled for the State Preceptor to descend the palace tower with her when she heard Wen Jingmei instruct the attendants nearby, “The evening wind is cold. Fetch a cloak for Her Majesty.”
Wen Yanran reminded him, “It’s already summer.”
On other matters he might yield, but when it came to the Emperor’s health, Wen Jingmei would not concede an inch. “The last time Your Majesty fell ill, the weather was not cold either.”
An enlightened sovereign could be moved by reason. Wen Yanran, who was in most cases an easygoing emperor, smiled and said, “Then bring two cloaks. I will share the warmth and the cold with the State Preceptor.” She suddenly paused, then shook her head with a completely serious expression. “No, the State Preceptor’s consideration is more thorough. My cloak is wide – just bring one.”
“…”
Given the composure of people like Chi Yi, they had long since reached a state of perfect equanimity regarding such matters. Nevertheless, they still lowered their heads, eyes observing their noses, noses observing their hearts, pretending not to notice the State Preceptor’s expression at that moment.
Some court officials were even more considerate, deliberately slowing their pace and walking as far away as possible from where they might overhear the sovereign’s words, lest they encounter the awkward dilemma of whether or not to record the Emperor’s remarks in the daily records of activity and repose.
Wen Jingmei gazed at the Sovereign beside him.
This was not the first time Wen Yanran had done such a thing. As early as the time she first ascended the throne, she had deliberately misled others, allowing certain regional powers to believe that the central government’s decrees were actually manipulated behind the scenes by the Tianfu Palace or Grand Tutor Yuan. Given Wen Yanran’s current prestige and authority, she could do whatever she wished without needing to hide from anyone, yet she still, from time to time, gave those around her the opportunity to recall scenes from the past.
Standing beside her, Wen Jingmei could always feel a vibrant, life-giving warmth.
It had been this way since the end of the eleventh year of Changxing, and it remained so to this day.
In truth, by the final years of Emperor Li, any discerning person could see that the Great Zhou’s dynastic mandate was nearly exhausted. At that time, Wen Jingmei had already made a quiet resolution in his heart: to spend his remaining days guarding the young emperor with undivided devotion, never leaving her side until death. Though the circumstances that followed were unexpected, they could still be considered… not straying from his original intention.
