Chapter 912

The reforms a feudal dynasty could think of were taxes and land.

Pan Yun didn't even need her toes to know it would be bloody and violent.

The new emperor had only just ascended the throne; his prestige was insufficient, his methods untried, he simply couldn't pull it off.

And the Emperor, like the general, needed to accomplish something, to win a "victory," to accumulate prestige.

Zhu Qizhen's insistence on the Luchuan campaign also had its reasons in accumulating political prestige.

And Pan Yun clearly didn't want Zhu Qiyu to fight wars—at the very least, she would absolutely never bring up war herself, nor expand any war.

Then she'd start from somewhere else.

For instance, military equipment—if they possessed overwhelming military equipment, then when enemies launched a war, they could win at a small cost; Pan Yun also wanted to set sail and head out into the world;

For instance, farm tools, fertilizer, seeds, and the like—to boost agricultural output and free more labor from the land;

Or again, handicrafts, textiles, even steam—with Great Ming's current industrial technology, it was well worth a try.

"To let the common folk have land to farm, food to eat, clothes to wear, and medical care, we must raise productivity…"

Once productivity had been raised to a certain level, bringing up reforms would be far easier; by then, not only Yu Qian but the Emperor's prestige would also have accumulated.

The Zhu Qiyu of another timeline was no weaker in political ability than Zhu Qizhen; he was merely soft-natured, indecisive, yet also narrow-minded and somewhat hypocritical.

He was too insecure, and therefore afraid.

Pan Yun believed that whether it was the Zhu Qiyu of this timeline or the one of another, neither of them had ever originally intended to replace Zhu Qizhen and become emperor.

They had truly aspired from childhood to be a worthy prince, and only a worthy prince.

But the Tumu Crisis—the emperor captured—pushed by the tide of events, they had no choice but to take that seat.

When a person cannot obtain something, naturally they don't want it; but once they have it, how many would willingly step down from the throne?

Besides, Zhu Qizhen bore such a massive stain that even if Zhu Qiyu had returned the throne to him upon his return to the capital, Zhu Qizhen still wouldn't have survived.

Empress Dowager Zhang's youngest son, Prince Xiang, had twice been recommended as emperor—hadn't he stayed trembling in Xiangyang without budging?

And Zhu Qiyu had truly been emperor.

Therefore, the ministers of Great Ming would never dare propose that Zhu Qiyu return power to Zhu Qizhen.

It's a pity that Yu Qian saw this point clearly, the officials saw it clearly, yet Zhu Qiyu himself could not.

He had actually been afraid of Zhu Qizhen returning to the capital to seize power, so he suppressed and humiliated Zhu Qizhen at every turn, ruining a perfectly good hand of cards.

Of course, that was the Zhu Qiyu of another timeline.

The Zhu Qiyu of this timeline had no such trouble.

Zhu Qizhen had met his misfortune before he ascended the throne; he had taken the throne in a time of peril, and had also protected Great Ming's borders, bearing his brother's grudge. The inferiority and timidity in his bones could be drawn out bit by bit and crushed, developing in the direction Pan Yun hoped for.

Sure enough, after a heartfelt talk, both the Emperor and Empress were greatly encouraged.

The two threw themselves wholeheartedly into national construction.

The National Preceptor said agriculture was important; one of them went to pressure the Chief of Internal Affairs for money, while the other pressed the national treasury to scrape together a little more from the corners, handing it to the Court of the National Granaries to run experiments.

When money ran short, the Emperor put up the Imperial Estates; the experimental fields and labor would come from the Imperial Estates, and as for craftsmen and tools—whatever could be drawn from the Imperial Estates would be drawn from the Imperial Estates.

In the end, the Emperor even found it too troublesome, and simply picked an Imperial Estate in the outskirts of the capital and handed it over to Pan Yun and the Court of the National Granaries, giving them full authority to handle it.

Pan Yun was very satisfied, then told the Emperor: "The Imperial Estates in Jingcheng are only suitable for research on northern crops, not for experiments with southern crops like rice."

The Emperor heard this, thought briefly, and said: "There are also Imperial Estates near Nanjing; I recall there are some around Suzhou, Yangzhou, and Hangzhou as well. Would the National Preceptor like to pick one from these places?"

Pan Yun chose the one outside Nanjing.

Because Nanjing also had a court establishment, and within it a Court of the National Granaries.

The Emperor understood at once, and said immediately: "I will have Nanjing's Ministry of Revenue, Court of the National Granaries, Ministry of War, and Ministry of Works give the National Preceptor their full cooperation."

Pan Yun smiled and nodded, then immediately proposed going to Nanjing: "It's the start of spring, exactly the time for selecting and sowing seeds. Besides, the new water-powered looms, water-powered waterwheels, and wind-powered waterwheels the Ministry of Works has just made all need to be promoted in the south."

The Emperor's heart panicked: "Na-National Preceptor, you're leaving me?"

Pan Yun took out a book of yellow talisman paper and handed it to him, saying: "This book of Thousand-Li Messaging Talismans is a new type of talisman I've just figured out. I've tested it—it's very easy to use. I also have a copy. As long as you write on it, I'll receive it synchronously at the other end. For questions that aren't too urgent, Your Majesty can ask me on the talisman paper. If it's something major and Your Majesty wishes to see me in person, just say so on the talisman paper, and I'll return to the capital immediately to see Your Majesty."

Pan Yun smiled and said: "Even if I go to the easternmost or northernmost edge of the Land of Wa, returning to the capital is no more than a two-day journey."

For her, so easy!

The Empress, who had been pricking up her ears listening from the side, whipped her head around with a swish, her gaze fixed intently on the yellow talisman book in the Emperor's hand, her eyes full of envy and… determination to have one!

Empress Wang stared hard at Pan Yun.

Pan Yun understood instantly, hesitated a moment, then said: "Please forgive me, Your Highness. This poor Daoist only made two copies—the yellow talisman book must come as a primary and a secondary pair. I can't make a second set right now. How about you share one with His Majesty?"

The Emperor clutched the yellow talisman book to his chest with a whoosh.

Empress Wang instantly looked aggrieved, her eyes brimming with tears, puffing her cheeks as she glared at Zhu Qiyu.

This imperial couple's feelings for each other were still all right at this point; she didn't know whether, without that thunderbolt of deposing the Crown Prince, they would still part ways midway.

But harmony between Emperor and Empress was beneficial to the country's development.

Especially since Empress Wang was an empress with strong opinions, kindness, and a sense of morality—she could assist and also counsel Zhu Qiyu.

So Pan Yun was happy to see the imperial couple's affection improve a little, and immediately advised Zhu Qiyu: "Why must Your Majesty be so stingy? Once I'm gone I'll begin making the second set of yellow talisman books. When this one is used up, I'll send another back."

Only then did Zhu Qiyu stop being so possessive of his food. He smiled at Empress Wang and coaxed her in a low voice: "We'll write on it together then."

After soothing the Emperor and Empress, Pan Yun went to take a turn around her beloved Ministry of War's Armaments Bureau, the Ministry of Revenue's Court of the National Granaries, and the Ministry of Works, giving out countless opinions, and after sweeping up quite a number of blueprints, returned to the Imperial Observatory.

Pan Yun handed all the Imperial Observatory's affairs to the four Directors, ordering them to manage things jointly, then she announced a closed-door retreat. That very night she squatted outside Zhang Zijin's door to say goodbye.

Zhang Zijin felt that the amount he'd talked and shown his face this past year was more than the previous five years combined.

He sighed helplessly, raised his hand, and threw open the door with a bang.

Pan Yun trotted in happily, sitting down opposite him without any ceremony: "Senior, this junior has come to say farewell. After I leave, the palace will still need to rely on you."

Zhang Zijin: "If you don't come, the palace is perfectly safe."

"You can't put it that way either…" Pan Yun hurriedly said: "This time I'm returning to Long Hushan. Is there anything or any message you'd like me to bring back for you?"

After a moment of silence, Zhang Zijin said: "No objects, but there is one message."

Pan Yun stared at him intently, assuming an attitude of eager attention.

Zhang Zijin looked at her expressionlessly and said: "Tell them not to go too far. When I leave the palace, I hope the Zhang family still exists."

Pan Yun blinked.

Zhang Zijin looked at her expressionlessly: "The message is delivered. Aren't you leaving yet?"

Pan Yun scratched her head, sized him up, then glanced nervously left and right, leaned in, and asked: "Senior, given your current cultivation, when you leave the palace, won't that be the moment the Great Ming collapses?"

Zhang Zijin: "Collapses?"

Pan Yun swept her hand across her neck.

Zhang Zijin raised an eyebrow, a flicker of interest in his eyes: "That's a vivid description."

He nodded without hesitation: "Correct. Unless something unexpected happens."

Pan Yun asked humbly: "What kind of unexpected thing?"

"For instance, a cultivator stronger than you suddenly decides to pay the palace a visit, or like you, wants to become Imperial Preceptor—that's when I might not die peacefully in my bed."

Pan Yun blinked frantically: "If I become Imperial Preceptor, why don't you just kick me out?"

Zhang Zijin glanced at the merit still swirling around her body and said calmly: "You are the Imperial Preceptor recognized by all under heaven."

Not recognized by the Emperor. Not recognized by the court ministers. But recognized by all under heaven.

Pan Yun froze, then found her voice after a long pause: "I—I'm recognized by all under heaven?"

Zhang Zijin: "When you returned, your merit nearly solidified into a golden seal, carrying the aura of weapons and war—meaning the three armies honored you. Afterward, your merit and aura grew even stronger, proving you've gained the recognition of all under heaven."

He looked down at Pan Yun with a meaningful gaze: "Fortunately, you have no interest in the throne. Otherwise, if you raised your arm and called out, the Great Ming would be in peril."

Pan Yun snorted unceremoniously: "This is flattery—pure flattery! Go ahead and flatter me. The Great Ming has problems, yes, but to say rebellion could succeed right now? Impossible. But if we'd lost the borders or Jingcheng back then, we might have faced the same plight as the Northern and Southern Song dynasties."

Zhang Zijin asked her: "If you had the chance, would you take the throne?"

Pan Yun immediately shook her head: "What's the point of being Emperor? To make a new Emperor, I've been stuck in the palace for one, two, three, four…"

Pan Yun counted on her fingers, sadly: "Over four months. I've only ever been this still in one place during school days. Every day is trivial nonsense—I can't even cultivate peacefully."

Pan Yun listed the palace's flaws: "Cold in winter, hot in summer, stifling, dusty, and the Qi is thin…"

"There's dragon aura here," Zhang Zijin cut her off directly. "In these four months, hasn't your cultivation advanced?"

"It has, but I'm not happy!" Pan Yun said. "I love looking at green mountains. I love listening to clear springs. I love the breeze on my face, Qi swirling around me. Dragon aura…"

Pan Yun shook her head.

Couldn't I achieve this speed just by cultivating normal Qi?

Zhang Zijin: "That's why I didn't stop you. You're a cultivator, but you harbor no ill will toward the Zhu family. You haven't broken my pact with the founding Emperor."

Pan Yun's eyes darted: "Then…"

"If one day you change your mind and use cultivator arts to harm others in this palace, I will send you straight to Mount Sanqing."

Pan Yun: "Thank you very much."

Pan Yun slapped her buttocks and stood up, stepped out the door, and immediately summoned the Three Treasures Cauldron. She grabbed Pan Xiaohei and leapt onto it, flying straight toward Long Hushan.

Pan Xiaohei clung to her shoulders with both paws, sharing the faint wind leaking through the formation, and asked: "Aren't we going back to Mount Sanqing first?"

Pan Yun: "Big Brother is probably hiding in some cave, cultivating. The Sanqing Temple is surely empty. What would I go back for? I need to find my senior brothers and sisters at Long Hushan."

She knew Zhang Liuzhen had become the new Zhang Zhang Tian Shi, but she didn't know what had happened at Long Hushan.

During this time, she'd tried contacting Long Hushan, but received no news at all.

Even the imperial court couldn't reach Long Hushan.

The Emperor had been suppressing the edict to elevate Zhang Liuzhen to True Person.

When the Lord of the Long Hushan Zhang Zhang Tian Shi Mansion changes, the imperial court must be petitioned for approval.

Just like the succession of feudal lords or noble titles.

The difference is, succession of feudal lords and noble titles involves more political elements, so the Emperor holds greater authority;

The succession of the Zhang Zhang Tian Shi Mansion is usually decided by the Zhang family. Once they choose a candidate, they submit the petition, and the Emperor and court merely stamp and issue the edict.

Master Zhang has been transcended for a long time. The Emperor has been on the throne for four months—why hasn't the Zhang family submitted their petition for succession?

Pan Yun, filled with confusion, shot forward with a whoosh and neared the Hushan Realm.

As soon as she reached the edge, the Three Treasures Cauldron slammed into an invisible wall with a bang. Flying too fast and with too much force, the cauldron was flung backward, spinning three hundred sixty degrees in midair. Pan Yun inside rolled like a helpless garment in a washing machine, tumbling countless times before crashing through branches and leaves, striking a tree trunk, then thudding hard onto the ground.

After a long while, Pan Xiaohei jumped out of the cauldron, staggered three catlike steps, then collapsed face-first with a thud, limbs splayed, motionless.

After another long while, a hand reached out from the cauldron. Pan Yun crawled out with her eyes shut.

She was smart: she lay still for a long time, then cautiously opened her eyes, and only then rolled onto her back.

She stared at the swaying sky and leaves, raised a hand to her forehead, and murmured: "I feel like I died once."

Pan Xiaohei: "Why did Long Hushan activate its formation barrier?"

"Something huge must have happened!"

Thinking this, Pan Yun dared not rest. She stood up, shrank the Three Treasures Cauldron, and hung it back at her waist. Then she rose unsteadily, barely identified the direction, and staggered toward Long Hushan.

They'd crashed a long distance. Had she not been so dizzy, she could've flown to the edge and stopped there.

Fighting nausea, Pan Yun walked from dawn until the sun rose high, finally entering the Hushan Realm.

The second day of the second month had passed; people were working in the fields.

Pan Yun stood at the edge of the field for a while, when an old man asked her: "Reverend, are you heading to Long Hushan?"

Pan Yun nodded. Her Daoist robe made her unmistakably a Daoist Priest.

The old man didn't care, pointed ahead, and said: "Long Hushan is that way. Walk another hour and you'll reach Shangqing Town."

Pan Yun asked: "Old man, has anything happened in Shangqing Town lately?"

"Something? What could happen?"

"I heard Master Zhang has transcended."

"Everyone must die; True Person Zhang has been dead for over four months—that was before the New Year, surely not recent?"

Pan Yun: "Is the new True Person his son?"

"Yes, the new True Person has already ascended; the succession ceremony was quite grand."

Pan Yun's lips curled slightly: "Then, was the ceremony on the second day of the second month presided over by the new True Person?"

"Huh?" The old man suddenly remembered, scratching his head: "The Zhang family didn't hold a ritual on the second day of the second month this year."

Pan Yun's smile faded slightly: "I see~~"

How could the second day of the second month pass without a ritual?