That night, Lin Zhao couldn't sleep. He sat by the window, watching the snow fall outside, his heart filled with complex emotions.
He had successfully "sold" the constitutional system to the prince. The prince had accepted it, even enthusiastically. But something made him uneasy.
Was it the prince's eyes? That light of a "winner"?
Or was it his own doubt? Doubt about whether this "transplant" would succeed?
Lin Zhao thought of his doctoral dissertation. In it, he had cited numerous successful cases of institutional transplantation: Japan's Meiji Restoration, Germany's post-war reconstruction, South Korea's democratization...
But he had also mentioned failed cases: the Weimar Republic, numerous African countries, Latin American nations...
What was the difference between success and failure?
Culture? History? Economic foundation? Or... luck?
Lin Zhao didn't know. He only knew that he had already embarked on this path and could not turn back.
"I can only hope," he whispered to himself, "that the Great Ming is a suitable soil."
"I can only hope that the system I designed can truly bring freedom and democracy."
"I can only hope... that I am not wrong."
Outside the window, the snow continued to fall, covering everything in white.
In the distance, the lights of the prince's study were still on. Jiajing Chuan was reading the materials Lin Zhao had given him, his eyes shining with an unusual light.
"This system... is really useful," the prince murmured. "As long as I control the rules, I will always win."
"But Lin Zhao... he knows too much. After he finishes building the cage... I'll have to deal with him."
The prince smiled, a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Winning is everything."
"Everything."