Liu Bei's will had been tempered through long years of defeat. As the grim truth of the Han's slow collapse settled over the hall, he did not sigh.
Instead, a faint, bitter sense of vindication stirred within him.
In his early years, he had sought the support of powerful clans. He had humbled himself before the renowned scholars of Yingchuan and the great aristocratic clans, only to be met with cold shoulders and quiet disdain. To them, a seller of straw sandals, even one bearing the title of imperial uncle, was not worth their regard.
Even so, Liu Bei thought to himself, whatever flaws the Han possessed, it was still far better than yielding the realm to whatever this so-called 'Jin dynasty' would become.
A trace of amusement flickered across his face, and he broke the silence.
"If Emperor Wu were to learn that later generations call him, with great fondness, 'His Imperial Majesty the Little Pig,' I suspect he would order every one of them executed without hesitation."
Zhang Fei snorted, folding his thick arms across his chest.
"Big Brother, best not mock those future folk. You saw their weapons on that screen. Their armies are no small matter. Even if the Marquis of Guanjun, Huo Qubing, were alive today, I doubt he could last long against those flying iron birds and fire-spitting war carts."
The men in the hall had, by now, grown oddly used to the irreverent nicknames the future gave to the great figures of the past. Strange as it was, they had come to understand the meaning behind it. Only those who truly left their mark upon history would be spoken of so casually by people two thousand years later.
Was not Li Shimin, the supposed 'Emperor of the Ages', casually referred to as 'Erfeng' or simply 'Li Er' by every passing commenter?
Zhang Fei let out a low chuckle as the thought returned to him. A few days earlier, the screen had shown a passing remark that still lingered in his mind. Zhao Yun, that unshakable and upright general, had been fondly called 'Yun Mei'. The absurdity of it still pressed against his ribs, and he had to hold the laughter down by force.
Pang Tong shook his head, drawing the discussion back to its proper course.
"To rely on cool officials to resolve the problem of the local powers is no lasting solution," he said. "Wealth has the power to move human hearts, and land has the power to claim human lives!"
His fingers tapped lightly against the desk.
"The Grand Historian only saw fit to record ten specific cool officials in his biographies. But across the reigns of Emperors Wen, Jing, and Wu? There were hundreds of them, drowning the provinces in blood, and yet the Local strongmen only grew wealthier."
Seeing the tension gathering on Liu Bei's brow, Pang Tong softened his tone.
"Even so, such men are not without use. They can instill fear where it is needed. My lord may consider appointing a capable and resolute official here in Yizhou, one who can oversee the prisons and enforce the laws without hesitation. Boundaries must be drawn, especially for the powerful clans of Shu."
Bagian yang Diedit
Liu Bei sank into deep thought, eventually nodding in slow agreement. The beauty of their current base in Yizhou was its relative isolation.
The territory was manageable, and the local clans here were notoriously weaker than those in the Central Plains. The great clans of Yizhou, the Guo, the Yang, the Liu, the Du, the Zhao, were mere shadows of the northern monsters.
With Liu Bei's current battle-hardened army, he could crush them with one hand if they dared to rebel.
Kongming waved his feather fan, offering a more foundational solution.
"Once the third month passes, the work agricultural and administrative busyness of Chengdu will finally settle down.
My lord, you might consider imitating Emperor Wu in one specific regard: issuing an Exhortation to Study. We should mandate that the common people send any child under the age of sixteen to us for basic literacy."
In Kongming's mind, the pieces were falling into place. With the price of the newly invented paper dropping lower every week, the financial barrier to education was practically vanishing. If they could mass-produce a literate populace, the execution of government decrees would become incredibly smooth.
Kongming recalled a frustrating incident from January, he had traveled near Jiangzhou to reform the local salt production methods.
The region was blessed with natural gas vents, which the locals called fire wells. Yet a stubborn village elder had furiously insisted that the fire wells were possessed by demons, and that any salt boiled over those cursed flames was pure poison meant to harm the people.
Opening the minds of the people, Kongming realized, was going to be a very long, very exhausting road.
Bagian yang Diedit
Liu Bei's eyes lit up at the idea. Before he could speak, Zhang Song stepped out from his desk, bowing deeply.
"My lord, Military Advisor, the plan for the Yizhou Academy is a merit that will benefit a thousand generations,"
Zhang Song declared passionately. "However, both of you are completely overwhelmed with the grand strategy of the empire. I am a native of Shu. I humbly, request to be placed in charge of running it. I swear I will not betray the blood and sweat you have poured into this vision!"
Liu Bei smiled and nodded in approval, Zhang Song's sincerity sometimes made Liu Bei feel almost embarrassed.
Since Zhang Song was a local Chengdu man, having him manage the education of the local children was indeed the most reliable choice.
Sitting nearby, Liu Ba felt an invisible weight crash onto his shoulders. He was also a newly Yizhou official.
Zhang Song was already volunteering for a massive project, If Liu Ba just sat there sipping tea, the lord would definitely think he was nursing some rebellious laziness.
Peer pressure hit him like a war drum. Liu Ba shot to his feet and blurted, "I... I request to work alongside Zizhong to draft a completely new taxation law for the merchants! I swear on my life, we will absolutely not repeat the disaster of Emperor Wu's Snitch Law!"
In Liu Ba's mind, Emperor Wu's policy of paying neighbors to snitch on each other's hidden wealth was a fundamentally rotten chess move. The government barely collected any extra revenue, and the Emperor torched his own reputation in the process. What was the point?
Mi Zhu, who had been staring blankly at a wall, lost in deep thought about grain logistics. Hearing his name shouted across the room, he jerked his head up and blinked in total confusion.
"Ah....? What?"
Meanwhile, inside the Ganlu Hall of the Tang Dynasty.
They were currently watching their sovereign, the dignified Lord of the Great Tang, draped sideways across his imperial couch, clutching his stomach and howling with uncontrollable laughter.
Was His Imperial Majesty the Little Pig really that funny?
The ministers collectively deployed their greatest political skill: staring straight ahead and pretending the Son of Heaven was not wheezing like a dying goose on the furniture.
After all, the official handbook on imperial admonishment had no chapter covering "Your Majesty, please stop laughing at future slang about dead emperors."
Du Ruhui stroked his beard. "Based on the future generations' perspective, it seems this concept of commercial taxation is of paramount importance to the survival of a state."
Wuji leaned over the sprawling map the light screen had given them.
"Look at this, Keming. The lands beyond the Tang are unfathomably vast. The future is packed with nations, every one of them holding different resources. If we want to survive, we need official markets. Let merchants trade what we have too much of for what we lack."
He dragged a finger across the parchment. "We can plan military campaigns against the immediate borders of the Tang. But look here, at the land of Daqin, the Roman Empire. They are tens of thousands of miles away. How exactly do we march an army there? Trade is the only weapon that reaches that far."
Wuji paused, a frown touching his lips. "However, it does seem the future holds a rather sharp bias against Confucian scholars."
Fang Xuanling, pacing the floor with his hands behind his back, shook his head vigorously.
"The Confucians of Qufu know absolutely nothing about the actual mechanics of economy!
They put on airs, act pedantic, read the ancient classics without understanding how to adapt them to changing times, and spout the words of sages while having zero clue how to actually govern a country!
Calling it a bias is far too kind. It is an objective observation."
As he paced, Fang Xuanling's footsteps suddenly froze. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Yan Liben, the court painter, feverishly sketching on a fresh sheet of paper. Yan Liben was doing a spectacular, highly detailed job of capturing the Great Emperor of Tang rolling on the floor in a fit of giggles.
Fang Xuanling immediately found the ceiling beams absolutely fascinating. He stared at them with the intensity of a man discovering architecture for the first time, then glided to the other side of the room with the speed of a startled crane.
"By the way," he said, voice pitched slightly too high, "does anyone know what the term 'time travel' actually means?"
Du Ruhui recalled the exact phrasing. "Earlier, the screen mentioned that His Majesty time traveled into the body of Liu Shan, allowing the boy to enter the annals of history.
I presume it is some bizarre supernatural ghost story popular in the future."
Compared to the era of 'His Imperial Majesty the Little Pig', the ministers of the early Tang held one massive advantage.
They had the complete, documented histories of the Han, Wei, Jin, and the Northern and Southern Dynasties at their fingertips. So salt monopolies, iron taxes, imperial academies, none of that was new to them.
They had already formed sophisticated opinions on all of it. The only things that truly baffled them were the bizarre future slang terms.
By unspoken agreement, the ministers completely avoided the topic of the local strongmen.
Unless the Emperor himself lit that particular fuse, it was far too dangerous to guess where the political boundaries lay.
[Lightscreen]
[ The Eastern Han Dynasty was the absolute golden age for the clan development.. During this period, the crushing pressure of the imperial throne was completely lifted, allowing these clans to mutate into a spectacular variety of forms.
After Emperor Guangwu, Liu Xiu, completely abolished the localized armed forces of the commanderies, the strong clans who owned massive tracts of land underwent their ultimate evolution. They became the 'Manor Landlords'.
The absolute pinnacle of this evolution was a man named Cui Shi, who lived during the reign of Emperor Huan, he was the premier, highly educated mega-landlord of his time.
He even wrote a literal instruction manual called 'Monthly Instructions for the Four Classes of People' just to teach other landlords how to properly manage a massive estate.
"If you read this book, you realize that a 'qualified' manor was basically an independent country.
It included large-scale agriculture, sericulture, textile weaving, alcohol brewing, pharmaceutical production, and horse breeding.
Militarily, they were terrifying. A proper manor required horn bows, heavy crossbows, training in the five primary weapons, and regular drills in combat archery.
Armories and heavily armored supply carts were considered standard household appliances.
The walled, fortified castles known as Wubao, which only existed as military outposts under Emperor Wu, became the standard housing design for these manors.
"For a massive clan like Cui Shi's, their estate successfully combined agriculture, forestry, fishing, and animal husbandry.
They could literally lock their massive iron gates and produce everything they needed to survive independently forever. This total economic security provided the main branch of the family with endless resources, allowing them to comfortably focus entirely on seizing political power in the capital.
"Let us look at Cui Shi's pedigree. Grandfather: Cui Yin. A legendary scholar. People spoke his name in the same breath as Ban Gu, the great historian who compiled the Book of Han.
Father: Cui Yuan. Another towering scholar. Best friends with the Confucian masters Ma Rong and Zhang Heng, the man who invented the world's first seismograph.
This was not a family that dabbled in learning. This was a family that was learning."
His older cousin was Cui Lie, who clawed his way to the rank of Grand Commandant, the highest military office in the land.
His nephew was Cui Jun, styled Zhouping, a famous scholar of the Three Kingdoms era. And Cui Jun just so happened to be the absolute best friend of Zhuge Liang.
The Cui family originally built their base in Zhuo Commandery.
Later, they strategically relocated to Boling Commandery. Yes, they became the legendary, terrifying 'Boling Cui Clan'.
The very same clan that became so disgustingly powerful that Li Shimin, deeply feared them.
Even though Li Shimin personally spent his reign trying to suppress them, by the Late Tang Dynasty, the Boling Cui clan was universally acknowledged as the 'Crown of the Aristocratic Families'.
Throughout the entirety of the Tang Dynasty, this single family produced an astonishing sixteen Chancellors.
Their voices only faded after the Tang fell, it took the apocalyptic chaos of the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period to finally inflict heavy damage upon them.
By the time of the Southern Song Dynasty, the Boling Cui clan had completely faded into the dust of history.
The other type of strong clan took a different evolutionary path, riding the massive wave of academic worship generated by the founding of the Eastern Han.
They followed a specific formula: turn classical studies into hereditary government posts.
The blueprint was simple.
First, use the family's massive wealth to study the classics.
Second, use those studies to artificially cultivate a flawless moral reputation.
Third, use that flawless reputation to officially enter the government and seize absolute power.
Because the great Confucian masters of the time were allowed to recruit their own private disciples, a strong clan with a bit of cash didn't even need to send his son to the Imperial Academy in Luoyang.
He could just drop off a cart of gold at the local great scholar's house, buy an education, and instantly network with the sons of all the other local strong clan, forming powerful political cliques.
The family that executed this route most flawlessly was the Hongnong Yang clan.
Now, they absolutely deny this origin story, but everyone knows the truth. Their entire fortune started with Yang Xi, the Marquis of Chiquan, the man who got a title by literally hacking a piece off of Xiang Yu's dead body.
"His great-grandson, Yang Chang, became the Chancellor under Emperor Zhao and managed to marry the daughter of Sima Qian.
Yang Chang's great-great-grandson was Yang Zhen, who became the Grand Commandant of the Eastern Han and was famously dubbed the 'Confucius of Guanxi'.
Yang Zhen's son Yang Bing, his grandson Yang Ci, and his great-grandson Yang Biao all sequentially achieved the rank of Grand Commandant.
They proudly wore the terrifying title of 'Four Generations of Grand Commandants, the Famous Clan of the Eastern Capital'.
"However, their luck eventually ran out. Spectacularly. And very, very bloodily."
"During the Three Kingdoms era, Yang Xiu and Yang Biao were killed.
During the Western Jin Dynasty, Yang Jun and his faction tried to monopolize power as maternal relatives. The result? All three branches of the family were exterminated.
During the Eastern Jin Dynasty, the clan leader Yang Liang and his entire branch were slaughtered in rapid succession by Huan Xuan and Liu Yu.
And just like that, the mighty Hongnong Yang clan was violently severed from history.
Looking at these two paths of evolution, the endgame becomes painfully clear.
Famous scholars, powerful nobles, hereditary officials, and mega-landlords continuously fed off each other. They intermarried. They traded favors.
And over generations, their combined, horrifying weight formed the Great Aristocratic Clans of the late Han era. The Chen. The Xun. The Yuan. The Ma. The Cao. The Zhong. The Du.
By the end of the Han, the power of the throne had completely evaporated, the Emperor had zero binding force over the provinces.
The concept of Commandery Prestige took over the minds of the people, the local peasants only knew the names of the local strongman families. They had no idea who was sitting on the throne."
Factually speaking, the Eastern Han had already been carved up and dismembered by the aristocratic clans long before the Yellow Turbans ever picked up a weapon.]
Inside the Chengdu government office, every single man felt like a country bumpkin who had just stumbled into a palace of solid gold.
"Damn... this Boling Cui clan." Liu Bei stared at the ceiling, his voice caught somewhere between awe and horror.
"How is that even possible? From the Han all the way to the Late Tang... five centuries of continuous wealth and power?"
The number shattered something in his mind. Four hundred years, five hundred years. How much wealth could one family hoard in that span of time?
How many millions of acres of land had they swallowed?
They had survived endless wars, watched dynasties rise and crumble into ash, and still casually produced sixteen Chancellors for the Tang.
Are they even human?
Zhang Fei spat on the floor, his face twisted in pure disgust. "Look at what the screen just said! Five hundred years of hoarding wealth, and not a single one of them ever made the list of great military generals!"
"They lived through the apocalyptic chaos of the Five Barbarians rampaging across the Central Plains, and what did they do? Hid behind their high walls like cowards! A world in flames, and they never once thought of serving the country with their blood. The future had them dead to rights. Parasites. Bloodsuckers. Every last one of them!"
Zhang Fei puffed out his chest. "Honestly, it is a good thing they packed up and moved to Boling. If they were still calling themselves the Zhuo Commandery Cui clan, I, Old Zhang, would die of shame sharing a hometown with those people!"
Pang Tong let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Careful, Yide. If they were still living in Zhuo Commandery, with that pedigree of theirs, they would probably look down on you as a dirty butcher."
"Do I look like I care if they look down on me?" Zhang Fei sneered, slamming his fist into his palm.
"The future knows my name! They sing songs about my loyalty! Meanwhile, does anyone in this room know which way the graves of the Boling Cui clan even face?
My second brother put it best. The body dies, but a real name gets carved into the bamboo of history for eternity!"
Pang Tong clasped his hands together in a respectful bow. He had to admit, ever since Zhang Fei started reading, his temper had not softened one bit, but his arguments had become remarkably structured and devastatingly logical.
"You are not wrong," Pang Tong agreed smoothly. "Take Cui Jun, for example. Cui Zhouping. The only reason anyone remembers his name at all is because he had the good sense to be friends with Kongming. Who envies the hollow title of famous scholar when history only remembers you as an accessory to someone else's greatness?"
Kongming threw his head back and laughed heartily, waving his fan to cool his flushed face. Today had been an incredibly eye-opening experience. "I always knew the local strongmen were a political plague. But I never imagined these leeches could survive for centuries and actively compete with the Imperial families for prestige."
His eyes narrowed slightly. "That survival was only possible because the early Tang must have been far too lenient. The local strongmen are experts at hiding their crimes and shielding each other. If it were up to me..."
Pang Tong's mouth curled into a dark, cynical arc. He shook his head slowly. "This Boling Cui clan certainly knew how to bow their heads and swallow their pride to survive the chaotic shifts in power. A terrible pity they were not born down south in Jiangdong. Sun Quan would have absolutely adored them."
Liu Bei, fell into a profound silence. His hands gripped the edges of his desk until his knuckles turned white.
"If everything this screen says is true," he whispered, "then the Han should have perished long ago."
He looked around the room, his eyes burning with a newly ignited fire. "These strongmen built their fortunes on the broken backs of Han citizens. Their homes overflowed with abundance, and yet they hid in the shadows, constantly plotting to overthrow the very throne that protected them."
"They are the true architects of this disaster!" Liu Bei's voice rose to a furious shout. "It is only right that their bodies be destroyed and their clans utterly wiped from the earth!"
For a long moment, no one dared to breathe. The raw, unfiltered hatred of the usually benevolent Lord Liu was terrifying to behold.
Finally, Kongming raised his hands in a deep, solemn bow. "Since you have seen the truth, my lord, I beg you. Never forget the suffering the common people endured to build those manors."
Zhang Fei did not hesitate for a second. He leaped to his feet, his massive frame casting a shadow across the room.
"I, Old Zhang, have hated those high-born, arrogant aristocrats since the day I could walk!" he roared. "They sit in their towers, scheming to steal the titles of the Three Excellencies and the Nine Ministers, and they even dare to covet the Emperor's throne! Yet when the borders burn, they send the common dirt-farmers to die in their place! Where under the heavens is the justice in that?!"
---
The Ganlu Hall remained deathly quiet, the tension thick and suffocating.
The silence was only broken when Li Shimin, finally recovered from his laughing fit, sat up straight. His eyes, cold and sharp as a drawn blade, swept across his silent ministers.
He let out a short, terrifying bark of laughter.
"These rebellious aristocratic factions. The source of the Tang's partisan disasters. Truly..." His voice dropped to a whisper.
"They all deserve to be slaughtered."