Chapter 2122: Kangzong Chronicles, Part 8, Continued: The Family's Grand Game

"If this old man remembers correctly, the current Emperor is twenty-three years of age, married for three years, and has taken several consorts since ascending the throne." Zhao Kuangyi suddenly said with profound meaning:

"Three years of sowing, and not a single yield. The line of Emperor Taizong was already thin to begin with—could it be that this curse has fallen upon the current Emperor as well? Your Majesty is young, so it has yet to draw attention, but as the years pass, if it remains so, I fear the hearts of men both within and without will grow restless again."

Even as Zhao Kuangyi spoke these words, his old eyes grew brighter than usual, and Zhao Dechong could sense that his old father's heart was, at this very moment, already stirring with agitation.

Facing Zhao Kuangyi's taboo-laden speculation, Zhao Dechong was in truth somewhat helpless. After a moment's deliberation, he adopted a cautious posture and, cupping his hands, said: "This matter concerns the Son of Heaven and touches upon the inner palace. Your son dare not presume to speculate."

Hearing Zhao Dechong's words, Zhao Kuangyi could not help but raise his head to look at him. Seeing this, Zhao Dechong lowered his head a few degrees further and bowed his waist even deeper.

Zhao Kuangyi smiled, withdrew his gaze, and fell into serious contemplation. After a long while, a violent change swept across that old face covered in wrinkles—now secretly pleased, now gloomy, now bitter—until it finally settled into a trace of wistful regret: "What a pity! What a pity!"

"Ten years of scheming, ruined by the hand of one woman. No! Ruined by the hands of two women."

Hearing these words, Zhao Dechong knew that his old father was once again lamenting the outcome of that year's struggle for the succession—"defeated without losing." That matter still rankled in Zhao Kuangyi's heart to this very day.

"Let us speak of matters within the clan. What movements has the Duke's mansion made recently?" However, Zhao Kuangyi clearly still wished to live a few more years, and quickly extricated himself from that mood of indignation, resentment, and stifled frustration, turning his head to ask.

Zhao Dechong said: "The Duke's mansion has selected another batch of clansmen, retainers, and disciples to be sent to Annam. Elder Brother Dezhao has also sent word, inquiring as to the Marquis's mansion's opinion."

To this, Zhao Kuangyi was silent for only a moment, then sighed lightly: "In the end, we all bear the surname Zhao. Break the bones and the sinews still connect—when all is said and done, we are one family.

You too should select some people from the various branches of the household to go south. Annam is unlike other places—after all, it has been under the court's governance for forty years. Compared to those barbaric wastelands, it is actually not so easy to subdue and integrate. That the King of Annam lacks men is an inevitability.

In a moment, I shall give you a list of names. In those years in Annam, I did leave behind some subordinates and connections.

But so many years have passed—some people are still in contact, while others, I know not whether they still acknowledge this old man. Even if they do, I know not whether they can still be of use.

The hearts of men are fickle indeed."

One should know that when Zhao Kuangyi was young, he had served in Annam for a considerable length of time. Because he excelled in civilizing governance and achieved remarkable accomplishments, he was later transferred away. And though Zhao Kuangyi spoke those words, what could be certain was that this old face of his, once presented in Annam, would surely have its effect.

An elder in the family is a treasure. Even though Liu Wenhuan was already in Annam, far from the capital region, he still had a tremendous need for the support of this "grand-uncle" Zhao Kuangyi.

Zhao Dechong silently listened to his old father's instructions, and only after confirming that he had committed them to memory did he cup his hands and acknowledge.

Zhao Kuangyi raised his eyes to look at his eldest son, and said unhurriedly: "This nephew Dezhao—in the past, I did not think much of him. He lacks his father's talent and bearing, yet seeks to imitate his father's inscrutability.

However, over these twenty-odd years, my view has had to change. I originally held deep expectations for you—perhaps too deep—but thinking on it now, I was overly harsh."

As he spoke, Zhao Kuangyi's voice grew low: "In the future, I do not expect anything more of you. If you can, like Nephew Dezhao, pass on our family and continue our enterprise, that will suffice. As for carrying forward our ambitions and expanding our undertakings—that will depend on whether the descendants can produce another outstanding talent."

As he said this, Zhao Kuangyi's gaze could not help but drift toward his grandson Zhao Yuncheng in the distance. At seventy years of age, Zhao Kuangyi was already a great-grandfather, yet counting down three generations, among the several dozen blood descendants, there was not a single one who could bring him surprise or delight.

As for Zhao Dechong, whom he had raised since childhood as his successor, Zhao Kuangyi still trusted this eldest son to this day, but he knew in his heart that this son could only be one who preserves what is inherited—not the exceptional talent who would revive the Zhao family's fortunes.

Hearing his old father's moving words, the pressure that had accumulated in Zhao Dechong's heart for decades dissolved entirely into emotion at this moment, and he bowed solemnly to Zhao Kuangyi. "Those brothers, sons, and nephews of yours who hold no office—ask their intentions as well. If they are willing, let them go to Annam together!" Zhao Kuangyi continued his instructions: "The Great Han is vast, but there are too many people fighting for scraps and snatching food; Annam is small, yet it can become a blessed land where the Zhao clan passes down generation after generation, enduring for a thousand years."

"Yes!"

Today was likely the most Zhao Kuangyi had spoken of family matters in the past two years. After only a brief moment of thought, he spoke again: "Has not the Prince of Linzi established a Loujiang Academy in Kunshan? I am quite interested in this academy. Over these past few years I have studied it carefully—it has great potential. The Prince of Linzi is extraordinary indeed.

To be fair, in both talent and virtue, the Prince of Linzi is the imperial prince most resembling Emperor Taizong. What a pity—"

At this point, Zhao Kuangyi fell silent. For a moment, his old eyes grew somewhat distant and hazy, causing Zhao Dechong great concern.

After a long while, Zhao Kuangyi steadied his emotions and continued the previous topic: "The Great Han has no shortage of schools for enlightenment, transmitting the Way, and imparting knowledge—there are even military academies specifically for training officers. But an academy specifically for cultivating administrative talent—to this day there is only this one, and its results are extraordinary. In the three prefectures of Su, Xiu, and Shang, the governance of officials may not be entirely in the hands of the Prince of Linzi, but it is certainly greatly influenced by him."

Zhao Dechong noticed that his old father's eyes grew brighter and brighter as he spoke: "You should also study it carefully. You may even personally visit that Loujiang Academy to exchange ideas on scholarship and teaching.

Then return to Zhuozhou and reform the family school, following the Loujiang Academy's methods. Recruit students from the Yan and Liao regions to cultivate administrative talent.

This matter, you must take seriously. You must handle it personally. It concerns the future of the Zhao clan. If it succeeds, all Zhao descendants will greatly benefit from it."

Unlike other meritorious nobles, Zhao Kuangyi—at his core a literatus—was very actively supportive of scholarship and talent cultivation, and had invested considerable effort and heart into it.

In the Zhao ancestral home of Zhuozhou, Zhao Kuangyi had personally established an academy, locally called the "Zhao School," primarily for transmitting the family's learning and instructing the Zhao clan's younger members and disciples. Of course, local students with background or talent were also qualified to enroll.

Having been established for over thirty years, the "Zhao School" had never been large in scale and had always been "confined" by the limitations of family learning. But in fact, it had cultivated no small number of achievements. The mere banner of "Zhao" was enough to draw followers, and the higher the threshold, the more aspirants there were.

Bringing up the "Zhao School reform" to Zhao Dechong today, Zhao Kuangyi was clearly plotting a grand game of chess. If he could combine "meritorious nobility" with "scholarly faction" and directly wedge them into the empire's ruling foundation, given time, the power that could be unleashed—even Zhao Kuangyi, already in his twilight years, could not help but grow excited at the thought.

Of course, had Shizu or Taizong still been on the throne, Zhao Kuangyi would absolutely not have dared to entertain such a notion.

Zhao Dechong was not stupid. Setting aside his old father's emphasis on the matter, he himself could also sense that this was no ordinary affair.

He did not rashly agree. After pondering for a moment, he said: "Your son shall first resign from his court post and devote himself entirely to this endeavor!"

"Excellent!" It was rare to see Zhao Dechong so decisive. Zhao Kuangyi's old eyes widened slightly as he praised: "A mere Vice Minister of the Court of Judicial Review is not worth mentioning—you may act as you see fit. With this old man in the household, as long as I draw breath, nothing will go awry.

As for the court, find a way to transfer your second brother back. He has served as a local official for over twenty years now—even if he is not fit for great responsibility, he can still provide some assistance."