Chapter 911: The Rules Must Change

Gardeners cannot grow two identical flowers, and even gods cannot make two people grow exactly as desired—how much less can humans?

Especially when there are so many people in the world.

Desires cannot be erased, but they can be regulated.

It's not that Old Zhu's rules were bad, but that all rules have expiration dates; for civilization to advance, it must continually replace its rules to adapt to a constantly changing world.

Rules are not merely cages—they are steering wheels, guiding the direction of civilization's progress, not merely trapping it in place.

When rules no longer suit current development, the forces trapped in place will devour and rot, eventually either breaking through the rules into chaos or decaying right where they stand.

On the way back to the palace, Pan Yun told Zhu Qiyu: "Everyone wants to govern the state and bring peace to the world, yet they forget that the Eight Goals follow a sequence—without understanding the essence of things, without comprehending the laws by which this world operates, how can one cultivate oneself and harmonize one's family, let alone govern the state and bring peace to the world?"

At this moment, eunuchs, female officials, and the Embroidered Uniform Guard followed far behind; only the Emperor and Empress walked beside Pan Yun, and only they heard.

Zhu Qiyu hadn't yet grasped how heavy these words were, and smiled: "Aren't you a Daoist Priest? Why are you quoting Confucian classics?"

Pan Yun lowered her head and let out a soft laugh: "Only the vulgar bind themselves to represent one school alone."

Pan Yun looked up at the towering palace eaves, her expression calm: "Hearing all sides brings clarity—there are many paths to success in this world. Why doesn't Your Majesty listen to more of them?"

Zhu Qiyu paused, then asked: "You don't refine elixirs, nor teach me the art of immortality—you devote yourself entirely to the Ministry of Works and the Military Equipment Bureau. Do you believe success lies there?"

Pan Yun's gaze settled on him, clear and piercing: "Your Majesty, Emperor Taizong of Tang once told Crown Prince Li Zhi: 'Water can carry a boat, but it can also capsize it.'"

Zhu Qiyu nodded: "I've heard this saying—it teaches emperors to cherish the people; the people are water, the ruler is the boat; the people can carry the boat, but also overturn it."

"There is another layer to this saying," Pan Yun said without expression: "The world belongs to the people of the world. Only a ruler whom the people recognize is truly a ruler. Hence, he who wins the people's hearts wins the world."

This wasn't wrong, and Zhu Qiyu nodded.

Pan Yun: "So, Your Majesty, do you think the people of Great Ming are happy?"

Zhu Qiyu froze, momentarily speechless.

He was not his elder brother—he was Prince Cheng, a prince who had long left the palace to establish his own residence; his nature was soft, yet he had the playful curiosity of a youth, so he had explored every corner of Jingcheng, including its slums, which he had once curiously entered.

Having had prolonged contact with common folk, he knew ordinary people's lives were far from easy.

Even some low-ranking officials in Jingcheng struggled—he had seen officials entering and leaving pawnshops more than once: mortgaging household goods one month, redeeming them the next upon receiving their salary, then mortgaging them again when funds ran low.

Oh, when he was Prince Cheng, he owned a pawnshop—his elder brother had allocated it to him from among the imperial assets.

He owned few shops, and as a youth, he had once taken great interest in its management.

And during his time as a minister, whether attending court or wandering outside, he always overheard discussions among officials, scholars, and commoners.

Thus, when Zhu Qiyu became Emperor, he became even more cautious, even more willing to heed his ministers' advice.

He feared—he feared that one day, like his elder brother, he too would be secretly whispered about, privately cursed as a favorite of corrupt flatterers, neglecting state affairs.

Appointing Pan Yun as State Preceptor and trusting her was the boldest, most unorthodox act Zhu Qiyu had taken since ascending the throne.

He had never told anyone: he did this not only because Pan Yun understood astronomy and geography, and could foretell the future;

But because he could feel her deep love and compassion for the people.

He could not forget the expression on her face when she volunteered to face the nation's crisis.

So, as long as he stood beside the people, he and Pan Yun were on the same side—she would never betray him.

It was this simple belief that made the Emperor trust Pan Yun so completely.

And Pan Yun, in truth, was earnestly teaching him, hoping he would become a good emperor.

Among the entire court, only Yu Qian and she were truly teaching him with sincerity.

The rest either feared imperial authority or pursued their own interests, speaking evasively; they didn't even treat him as openly as they had treated his elder brother.

Zhu Qiyu had never received imperial education; though soft-natured, he possessed a straightforwardness absent in the late Emperor, and after a moment's pause, he answered: "Not many are happy."

He paused, then continued: "And as Great Ming endures, the unhappy grow ever more numerous."

Empress Wang couldn't help reminding him: "Your Majesty…"

This statement was grossly disrespectful—was he implying his predecessors had failed as rulers?

Zhu Qiyu realized his mistake, his face flushing: "I—I didn't mean it that way. It's just… when my grandfather ruled, things were better. Lately, I've reviewed the Ministry of Revenue's records and noticed that since my father ascended the throne, the total household count hasn't changed much. In two reigns—twenty years—one generation has grown up—how could there be no population growth? Not to mention the state treasury's tax revenue and the nation's cultivated land, which have barely changed."

Pan Yun said without expression: "Because so many conceal land and hidden households."

Zhu Qiyu: "This isn't the Yuan dynasty—when the state was peaceful, land and households were concealed, yet refugees poured in from all regions, and peasant rebellions occurred regularly—doesn't this show their lives are miserable?"

Pan Yun's lips curled slightly: "Yes, their lives are miserable. The old system has collapsed and can no longer maintain order. In places unseen by Your Majesty, many circumstances have already changed."

"The disaster of your personal campaign arose from this—on the surface, the water is calm, but beneath, the currents rage, silt rolls, the riverbed shifts silently, and you know nothing, still believing the world is at peace."

Pan Yun said: "You are stronger than the late Emperor because you know the people suffer, because you place the people first."

"I hope Your Majesty remembers today's words: 'Water can carry a boat, but it can also capsize it,'" Pan Yun said. "To keep Great Ming's boat sailing steadily on the water, you must feel out the currents beneath, restore order, redirect chaos, and make the waters flow in one direction."

Empress Wang asked, puzzled: "Are the devices Master Pan studies the way to restore order?"

Pan Yun said: "Since the people are the foundation, we must first understand what they truly want."

Empress Wang: "They naturally desire ample food and clothing, care for the elderly, education for the young, and medical care for the sick."

Pan Yun: "That requires money. It requires vast productive resources."

The Emperor and Empress: "Ah?"

Pan Yun: "I know every political reform brings bloodshed and death—I don't want you to overreach and harm yourselves—so I'm starting with devices, forcing the world to reform whether it wants to or not."