Chapter 478: On Governance

With a whoosh, Anna slipped into Gao De’s arm crook.

Having spent several days “babysitting,” Gao De effortlessly lifted the little girl with one hand.

Anna wrapped her arms around Gao De’s neck, beaming with delight—as if thrilled to see him after so long.

But if one looked closely, one could spot a flicker of childish cunning in her utterly pure eyes.

“How are you settling in at Phoenix? The conditions here aren’t like the outside world, and,” Gao De paused, smiling, “they’re also a bit colder.”

More than a bit, thought Elsa, but she quickly replied, “Having such a stable environment where Anna and I don’t have to live in constant fear—I couldn’t be more satisfied.”

She truly wanted to ask clearly what the “King of the North” meant and why Gao De was here.

But first, she felt asking such questions crossed boundaries; second, Su Nai stood right beside them.

This was a “Five-Ring Mage”—no matter how young or beautiful, Elsa held deep reverence for her.

“Aren’t you going to invite us in for a sit?” Gao De smiled.

Elsa snapped back to herself and hurriedly ushered the two inside.

Naturally, there was no tea or any drink to offer.

Gao De sat beside the stone table and let Anna settle onto his lap.

Anna, like a docile kitten, nestled quietly in his arms, yet her eyes darted restlessly.

“What do you think of it here?” he asked directly, ignoring all Elsa’s inner thoughts.

“What do I think of it here?” Gao De’s question clearly caught Elsa off guard; she paused, then hesitated, “It’s nothing like my impression of the North—it’s full of vitality.”

“Do you see any problems with Phoenix right now?” Gao De cut through her pleasantries, bluntly asking, “From a ruler’s perspective.”

Gao De asked plainly; Elsa no longer pretended politeness. She thought carefully, then said cautiously, “In my view, Phoenix’s biggest problem now is that its growth is too fast—its management can’t keep up.”

“As I understand, the Zhenbing Tribe has always operated under a War-Mother system, with elders deliberating collectively. This system is somewhat primitive and lacks anyone with genuine urban management experience.”

“That wasn’t a major issue before, since the city was mostly Zhenbing Tribe members, and its structure still resembled a tribe—this crude management sufficed.”

“But now Phoenix is growing so rapidly, with more and more other tribes integrating—it’s gradually shifting from a tribe to a city, even a small nation. The management demands have risen accordingly.”

After speaking, Elsa cautiously glanced at Su Nai, who remained silent. Seeing no sign of displeasure, she exhaled slightly.

“Then, in your view, what’s a suitable way to make management keep pace with Phoenix’s growth?” Gao De asked again.

Elsa fell into deep thought.

This question wasn’t easy to answer—it required grounding in the North’s reality.

And the reality was: even a skillful housewife can’t cook without rice.

It’s like walking into a brothel and expecting a pure girl—it’s simply unrealistic.

The North is the same.

After centuries of tribal tradition, where could one find people with urban or even national management skills?

“For now, the best solution is to absorb the chieftains of the many new tribes joining Phoenix, bring them into Phoenix’s management system, and have them select suitable people from their own tribes to form a temporary official cadre—just to solve the immediate problems.” After long thought, Elsa spoke.

This method naturally had many flaws, but it was unquestionably the most suitable for Phoenix right now.

At least, in Elsa’s view.

“If each chieftain selects people from their tribe to form the management team, will they obey their own chieftain—or us? And in handling affairs, won’t they favor their own tribes?” Gao De asked calmly.

“These are unavoidable—but there’s no better option,” Elsa knew exactly what Gao De meant.

But as she thought, this was the best choice after weighing pros and cons.

“Suppose,” Gao De paused, then said slowly, “I divide all aspects of city management into separate departments.”

“Then, from all of Phoenix—including the Zhenbing Tribe and the newly joined tribes—I select people to enter the city hall, join these departments, and serve as officials.”

“Hmm, in Phoenix, they’ll be called civil servants. What do you think?”

Elsa froze. After a long moment, her eyes widened. “You mean… open recruitment? Anyone could become an official—a civil servant? Even commoners?”

“If they have the ability, why not?” Gao De countered.

“And in the North, there’s only a distinction between mages and ordinary people—there’s no nobility or commoner divide,” he reminded her. “There has never been nobility in the North.”

“But…” Elsa stammered, but couldn’t think of what to say next.

Her experience told her Gao De’s idea was “unreasonable.”

As a former royal (and excellent one), Elsa had received systematic education in state governance and political systems.

She had thorough knowledge of many nations on the Nolan Continent, including the two strongest: Jin Quehua Dynasty and the Holy Empire.

She even had some understanding of the Mihir Dynasty on another continent.

So, no matter how Gao De planned to manage Phoenix, she shouldn’t have been surprised—and could have offered suggestions.

That’s how it normally was.

But the words coming from Gao De were things she’d never heard, never even imagined.

The management system Gao De described was entirely new—a fundamental overturning.

What did “fundamental” mean?

Like Jin Quehua Dynasty and the Holy Empire—one a monarchy, one a parliamentary state—they seemed completely different systems.

But that’s just the view of outsiders.

In essence, their operating logic was identical:

The monarch or parliament—the highest ruling class—issues decrees, and ministers then implement them.

But the implementation process is left entirely to the ministers’ discretion, with no standardized rules.

Among ministers, apart from private agreements or interest relationships, there is no official connection.

This happens because ministers are appointed by monarch or parliament, but their own staff are chosen by the ministers themselves.

Ministers have extremely high autonomy in this.

Of course, to prevent abuse, appointments to some key positions require monarchal approval.

But most positions—especially those directly serving ministers or lower-level posts—are directly appointed by ministers.

Unsurprisingly, these ministers heavily promote relatives, family members, and vassal clans, forming vast “political” interest groups centered on themselves.

The cost of these staff’s “salaries” is borne entirely by the nobles themselves, not the state.

Of course, compared to the enormous benefits these parties gain, these “salaries” are trivial.

Power and wealth—these two are inseparable. Where there’s power, wealth rushes in like bees drawn to nectar.

But this also means to become a minister and wield power, one must first be born noble—or already a high-ring mage with wealth and prestige to attract followers.

And under this system, the longer a nation endures, the more rigid its class structure becomes.

Key national positions—the so-called “minister” posts—are firmly held by nobles; commoners have virtually no chance of breaking through this institutional barrier.

This foundational political logic has persisted since the founding of the first human dynasty, Jin Quehua.

No matter how times change, no matter how many problems this system causes, it has never changed.

—It couldn’t be changed, and no one ever thought to change it.

It had become an accepted truth.

But now, Gao De was clearly aiming to build a political system unlike any other in the world.

According to Gao De, in Phoenix, not only would “ministers” be appointed by city hall, but even their “staff” would be recruited and paid by city hall.

Under this system, they could no longer be called ministers’ staff—they all belonged to Gao De and Su Nai’s staff, differing only in power level.

That is, if a minister performed poorly, Gao De could directly replace him—or promote someone from below.

This was unimaginable before.

Under the old system, removing a minister wasn’t just replacing one person—it meant completely dismantling and rebuilding the entire “staff.”

Moreover, ministerial changes often triggered drastic policy shifts, and staff turnover was the core of power transition.

This clearly shattered the restriction that only nobles or high-ring mages could become ministers and hold power.

Undoubtedly, such a system could never be smoothly implemented in any other nation.

Because nobles and high-ring mages are a nation’s “foundation,” and this system is the foundation of the nobles themselves.

If you threaten their root, they might unite and overthrow you outright.

But after deeper thought, Elsa realized Gao De’s idea wasn’t fantasy—it was precisely the kind that could take root only in the North.

Because the North has no nobility, and both the War-Mother and Gao De are revered with near-personal worship.

Under these conditions, whether Su Nai or Gao De introduced any system or policy, there would be no opposition.

Another point: paying all civil servants would be a heavy financial burden on rulers.

But for Phoenix—at least current Phoenix—it wasn’t a problem: the North still has no currency system, let alone salaries.

Still, problems weren’t absent.

“Under North’s conditions, there simply aren’t enough suitable people to serve as civil servants,” Elsa, now fully in “deliberation mode,” forgot her status and discussed earnestly with Gao De.

“So Phoenix has currently formed three departments: the Nongye Force for food, the Public Order Bureau, and the Education Bureau.”

“Education Bureau?”

“It handles education. I intend to implement universal education in Phoenix—not everyone will become talented, but at least everyone must learn reading, writing, and arithmetic as basic skills. The more capable can then advance further.”

“As long as everyone can read and write, no matter how many civil servants I need, I can always find plenty of qualified candidates. Then, it won’t be city hall lacking talent—it’ll be talent lacking positions.”

“And this system will, in turn, drive the spread of universal education.”

“Because currently, most Northlanders don’t truly understand education’s importance—they only send their children to school out of reverence and trust in me and Su Nai.”

“Explaining principles to them is difficult—they struggle to understand or accept them. But if they realize that education and hard study can give them a chance to join the city hall as civil servants, elevate their status, and even, once currency is established, earn great wealth, then—”

“Then they’ll take education seriously, even actively tell their children how vital it is,” Elsa finished.

What a terrifying “scheme.” Anna, sitting on Gao De’s lap and not particularly fond of studying, listened to her sister and “Gao De brother” talk, blinking her eyes, feeling her hair stand on end.

“Do you think it’s feasible?” Gao De stared intently at Elsa.

“Feasible!” Aisha nodded firmly.

This system may sound shocking at first, but upon careful thought, one can see the immense advantages it would bring if truly implemented.

Both the quality and speed of policy execution would see a leap forward.

With everyone having the chance to become a “civil servant,” the entire “nation” would radiate an uplifting, vibrant energy.

Under the condition that any official could be appointed or dismissed at any time, corruption, oppression of civilians, and lawbreaking would drastically decline.

The monarch’s ruling authority would reach its peak.

In short, just thinking casually, Aisha could list a host of advantages.

“As you said, Phoenix currently suffers from a severe shortage of administrative talent. And as far as I know, you, as Princess of the Duchy of Sidian, possessed extensive governing experience before the Duchy of Sidian fell to the Duchy of Ofuji, and were widely recognized by its people.” Gao De finally revealed the purpose of his visit:

“You are precisely the talent Phoenix needs most right now. Therefore, I wish to appoint you as head of the new office department to be established by the City Hall—the Office Director—and also as Deputy Minister of Education. Will you accept?”

(End of Chapter)