"The entire capital, fully paved?"
Jiang Yuanbao was taken aback, his tone edged with hesitation.
"That might be somewhat difficult."
"It need not cover the entire city," Yun Shu said calmly. "Just ensure the main roads within the capital and the primary thoroughfare from the outer gates are completed."
Understanding the source of his hesitation, Yun Shu offered a reassuring nod.
"This Princess will have the Capital Garrison assist with road closures as needed. In addition, a recruitment notice will be published in the Capital Weekly. You need only oversee the operation."
"Understood."
…
Once the matters of paving and the spinning machine were delegated, Yun Shu returned to her routine under Emperor Xuanwu's watchful eye: assisting in the imperial study after morning court.
The good news? Ever since she had read court memorials aloud to Emperor Xuanwu during the autumn hunt and pointed out how unnecessarily verbose they were, His Majesty had taken her complaints to heart and issued a decree to streamline the language.
Over the course of the past year, officials across Tian Sheng gradually adapted, and now court memorials contained not a word more than necessary.
The bad news? The language had become so concise that each memorial now read like a densely compressed bundle of classical prose.
Simple affairs posed little trouble. But when the matter was complex, Yun Shu found herself struggling to decipher them with her less-than-fluent classical literacy.
When Emperor Xuanwu first discovered that she could not fully comprehend the contents of some memorials, he nearly sent her straight back to the Academy Hall.
Fortunately, Yun Shu quickly adopted a more diligent attitude, and her progress was swift.
Within a month, Li Dehai, standing outside the imperial study, could barely hear the Emperor's exasperated voice echoing through the walls anymore.
Of course, this was not solely due to Yun Shu's improvement. More crucially, her unconventional perspectives often rendered Emperor Xuanwu speechless during their discussions.
For instance—
"General Wei Yuan memorializes that Bei Xiang harbors treacherous ambitions and must not be underestimated. He proposes reinforcing the Great Wall with cement and extending it toward Youzhou. What say you?"
"In Your Daughter's opinion, such efforts are unnecessary."
"And why is that?"
Yun Shu replied without a hint of doubt.
"Is not the national treasury already strained? Reinforcing and expanding the Great Wall would be a tremendous expense.
When funds are plentiful, such a project could be considered. At worst, it may serve as a future tourist attraction.
But to insist on such an endeavor when the coffers are depleted, what if war breaks out and the frontlines shift? What if the wall ends up deep within our borders and becomes an inner ring? At that point, it would serve no defensive purpose. Why expend so much for nothing?"
Emperor Xuanwu: "?"
The Great Wall was built along the frontier. How could it possibly move inward? Did Yun Shu think it would grow legs and walk?
The Emperor nearly retorted on instinct, but in the next moment, he recalled a certain ending from the Simulation Life Selection System.
The one where the world was unified under a single ruler.
Emperor Xuanwu fell into a long silence.
"Could it be that the Tian Sheng Emperor in that unified ending... was none other than this cheeky little rascal?"
He glanced at Yun Shu, who was still struggling to write properly with a brush, producing scratchy characters barely fit for a dog's pawprints.
Just days ago, she had misread characters in a memorial and insisted they were obscure, insisting she was not at fault.
A swirl of conflicting emotions welled up within Emperor Xuanwu.
He was not displeased, not exactly. But the feeling was undeniably complicated. It was difficult not to wonder:
"If even this impudent child could succeed, why could We not?"
And so it was, amid the quiet friction and occasional chaos within the imperial study, that the first merchant caravan carrying Zhibei fruits finally arrived—no more than ten li from the capital.
"Stop the carriage! Stop now!"
A panicked voice rang out from within one of the wagons.
The driver, used to this routine by now, promptly pulled the reins, halted the cart, and jumped down. With practiced ease, he pulled out a small footstool and looked on as his master staggered out of the carriage, clutching his mouth.
The man hunched over and stumbled to a roadside tree, where he proceeded to vomit violently.
"Master has really suffered this time!" the driver muttered with a shake of his head. "Being the head of the Merchants' Association is no easy task."
"Indeed," the attendant nearby sighed as he handed over a cloth and a water flask. After seeing his master somewhat settled, he returned with another long sigh.
"Master has never done well on long journeys. After taking over the family business, he's left all merchant travels to his trusted aides. It's been years since he last took a carriage this far.
But then, Her Highness the Crown Princess issued a direct decree, commanding that each regional Merchants' Association head must attend in person. He's lost a full round of weight on this journey alone."
"How much farther until we reach the city?" asked Ming Pixu, the Association head from Xuzhou, pale-faced and exhausted.
"Not far at all," the driver quickly replied. "Just ten more li. Once we hit the paved stone roads of the capital, the carriage ride will be far smoother. You will feel much better, Master."
"So we still have ten more li to go?"
For someone who suffered severely from motion sickness, none of those comforting words mattered. All Ming Pixu heard was: ten more li of this torment.
The world spun. His knees went weak.
"No. Absolutely not. Let's rest here for the night. We'll enter the city tomorrow."
"We cannot, Master!" the driver protested. "Though the capital is near, this is still wilderness. It won't be as safe as the city at night.
We've endured this long. If something were to happen just outside the capital, all that suffering would be for nothing."
The young attendant added quickly, "Just a little longer, Master. Once we're in the city, you can rest for several days in proper comfort. Would that not be far better than sleeping out here?"
Ming Pixu said nothing, his face twisted in despair.
He truly could take no more.
His brain felt like it had been shaken loose.
Still, faced with his attendant's pleas, he was eventually coaxed back into the carriage.
Resigned, he braced for more torment.
But to his surprise, the rocking only lasted for a short while—less than the time it took an incense stick to burn—before he heard surprised exclamations from outside.
Almost immediately, the carriage's swaying stopped, replaced by an uncanny smoothness.
Smoother than any road they had traveled thus far, even in other cities.
Could it be… that the driver had been mistaken? Was the capital already so close