The world of film and television starts from the flow of money

After a long silence, Zhuo Yuanfan said softly:
"His Majesty... may never have intended to provide fertile ground for any 'new aristocratic clans' to grow. The Five Clans and Seven Noble Families have fallen, and there will be no new Five Clans and Seven Noble Families. The court is His Majesty's court, and officials are His Majesty's tools. What he needs are batches of 'officials' who can be used and discarded afterward, not entangled 'noble families'."

He looked at the crowd, his eyes filled with sorrow:

“We thought that as merchants, we could accumulate wealth for the empire, supply the borders, and serve the expansion. After three generations, we would naturally rise from merchants to officials and become a family of meritorious officials in the new dynasty. But now we know that His Majesty never made such a promise. He just… needed people to do these things. And coincidentally, we were willing to do them, and we did them well. That’s all.”

Wei Zhengrong's voice was hoarse:
"Then what's the point of us gathering here today?"

No one could answer.

Outside the sealed room, the wind and snow intensified. Inside, though the underfloor heating was warm, the hearts of the eight men felt as cold as ice.

They are indeed just "rich".

Without the support of the imperial court, without the mouthpiece of the censorate, and without a foothold in the military, the only wealth he could rely on as capital was, under the strict surveillance of the empire's monetary system, the auditing of the Ministry of Revenue, and the watchful eyes of the Imperial City Guard, nothing more than a string of numbers that could be seized at any time.

Ironically, they don't even have the right to complain publicly.

The empire granted them too much—the Shen family's weaving license, the Wei family's transportation permit, the Liang family's maritime trade route, the Zhuo family's exclusive supply of medicinal herbs… These were tangible sources of wealth, golden opportunities coveted by countless people. If they dared to express the slightest dissatisfaction, dozens of competitors would be vying to take over the business the very next day.

This is the unfathomable art of that emperor: to make you rich, but not noble; to use your money, but to guard against your people; to give you hope, but to forever keep that hope in a place that is visible but intangible.

"so,"

Huo Yuanzheng said slowly, "I just want to know if there is any point in continuing this path that has lasted for thirty years, a path where the whole clan strives for a better future."

Qin Guanghou nodded: "My family has been engaged in construction for three generations. Each generation sent their children to study and practice martial arts, but each generation failed. My great-grandfather said before he died: 'If we endure another generation, the court will eventually see our loyalty.' But my father endured it, and I endured it. Now it's my children and grandchildren's turn... will they have to endure it too?"

Sun Jinghai, the head of the Sun family, whose family had been in the salt-making business for generations, was known for his indifferent nature, yet he revealed a bitter smile at this moment:
“My Sun family has taken it all in stride. Our ancestral precepts do not involve the court, which is not necessarily a bad thing. Look at those five surnames and seven clans, how illustrious they were in the past, but now their bones are buried thousands of miles away. Although we have no official position, at least we are all reunited with our families and have many children and grandchildren. We don’t have to live in fear that one day an imperial decree will come down and the whole clan will be exiled.”

These words left everyone speechless.

Shen Shiyuan slowly stood up, walked to the window, and looked into the courtyard through the gap in the window paper.

The snow fell heavier and heavier, covering the bluestone in the courtyard in a pure white blanket. Several guards from various households were stamping their feet to keep warm under the eaves, talking in hushed tones. Little did they know that inside the house, the eight heads of the family were discussing the future of their clans.

Shen Shiyuan suddenly said:

"Do you all know why I proposed holding the meeting in Taiyuan this winter?"

Everyone looked at him.

"Because the Huo family of Taiyuan secretly sent people to Qingdao Port last year to try to contact... Nan Yinzhou."

Huo Yuanzheng's expression changed drastically.

Ma Yongsheng almost jumped up: "Brother Huo! You want to send your whole clan to join the remnants of the Li Tang dynasty?!"

"Be careful!"

Huo Yuanzheng interrupted sharply, veins bulging on his forehead: "I only... I only sent someone to investigate. After all, that's my Huo family's homeland and former master... no, it's definitely not about surrendering, it's just..."

"I just want to know, in case... in case there's really no way out here, is it still possible to get on that boat?"

Everyone looked at each other in shock.

This was the first time they had heard of someone daring to cross that invisible red line.

The exile of the five clans and seven prominent families to the Southern Yin Continent was a tacitly approved "exile" by the empire, a prison personally drawn by His Majesty. This was a completely separate path from that of the merchants of the new dynasty.

But Huo Yuanzheng's words brought up the issue they had deliberately avoided for the past thirty years:

If there's no hope of advancement here, is there another path overseas?

"You're crazy."

Wei Zhengrong hissed, “That’s a dead end. What’s over there? A barbaric land, teeming with miasma, where the natives eat raw meat and drink blood. The Li family took five thousand slaves there, and three years have passed; I doubt they’ve even established a foothold yet. My Wei family’s fleet sails to Southeast Asia, and I’ve heard merchant ships mention seeing several ships flying strange flags off the coast of Luzon. I don’t know if they’re them. There are no other clues. Are you going to join them to become Li Erlang’s subject, or to feed mosquitoes in the rainforest?”

Huo Yuanzheng did not refute, but remained silent.

Shen Shiyuan slowly sat back down in his original seat, his voice weary:

"Brother Huo, there's no need to blame yourself. Today's meeting was meant to hear everyone's true thoughts. Are you going to continue enduring this, earning money while swallowing your pride; or..."

He paused, but didn't say the rest of the sentence.

After a long silence, Qin Guanghou suddenly said:
"My family has a tradition of craftsmanship. Over the past few decades, government offices, granaries, and shipyards built by my Qin family are scattered throughout the empire. With each one I build, I think, this house can be lived in for a hundred years, this dock can be used for three hundred years, and this shipyard can repair a thousand ships. But how many generations can the Qin family's wealth last? Three generations? Five generations? His Majesty is in his prime, His Highness the Crown Prince is wise and powerful, and the empire's fortunes are at their zenith. In the eyes of the empire, our little fortune is nothing more than some 'permits' that can be taken back at any time."

He slowly looked around at everyone:
"Therefore, my Qin family does not intend to try again. Our children study not to become officials, but to understand principles; they practice martial arts not to join the army, but for self-defense. The Qin family will continue to earn money and pay taxes to the empire and donate military funds to the border. But we no longer expect the Qin family to have a place in the court."

"In this way, at least the Qin family can last a long time."

The crowd silently pondered these words.

long.

Yes, the Five Clans and Seven Noble Families also wanted to last, but they were too greedy. They wanted land, power, and prestige, and were eventually uprooted by the empire.

If these eight newly rich families give up their ambitions early on and behave themselves, they might truly be able to last.

After all, the empire needs merchants, artisans, transportation, medicinal herbs, maritime trade, and food. As long as these needs exist, they have value.

However, the idea of ​​"entering officialdom and bringing glory to one's ancestors" will probably have to be permanently deleted from the family genealogy.

Outside the window, the wind and snow had stopped sometime earlier.

The night deepened, and all was quiet.

Shen Shiyuan sighed deeply and slowly stood up:

"Let's end today's meeting here. Take care, everyone. From now on... take care of yourselves."

He said nothing more. The others also stood up silently, bowed to each other, and, with their respective guards, disappeared into the deep winter night of Taiyuan.

The bell tower of the ancient city of Jinyang echoed with the deep, mournful tolling of the fourth watch.

On the 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month, in Luoyang, in the secret chamber of the Imperial City Bureau.

A thin file lay silently on Bai Qing'er's desk.

She casually flipped through the book, her gaze sweeping over the title line—"Records of the Secret Meeting in Taiyuan (December 19th, the 30th year of the Dingding Reign)."

It only took half a cup of tea from beginning to end.

She closed the file, her expression unchanged, a faint smile curving her lips. She casually pushed the file into a nearby brazier, watching the flames lick away the ink.

“Go and report to His Majesty: The eight families have understood their own position and should now be content with their lot and have no other thoughts.”

The flames leaped, reflecting off her fair and cool face.

"Also, regarding the South Yinzhou route, we can let some word out. Let them know that that ship... was never used to pick up people."

Ashes fall, returning to nothingness.

The secret room returned to silence.

Outside the window, the snow in Luoyang was heavier, deeper, and more silent than in Taiyuan. The majestic Pagoda of Heaven stood amidst the snow curtain, its massive spherical structure atop emitting a faint glow in the deep twilight, like an eternally silent eye overlooking all living beings.

………………

The Imperial Garden of Ziwei Palace.

Just past Shenshi (3-5 PM), the sky already showed the quiet gray-white color common in winter. The snow began to fall in the early morning, initially just fine sleet, but gradually grew into a downpour around noon, falling silently and covering the entire city of Luoyang in a world of ice and snow.

The Imperial Garden is located in the northwest corner of the Ziwei Palace, facing the majestic Pagoda of Heaven across the palace walls. Its layout differs significantly from the elaborate and intricate gardens of previous dynasties. Instead of winding paths and unusual rocks and trees, it emphasizes openness, spaciousness, and natural charm. Centered on a section of flowing water remaining from the Taiye Pond, the banks are planted with hardy trees such as pines, cypresses, and bamboo. There are no painted railings or carved railings, only bluestone paths and white jade steps, covered with snow, further enhancing its serene and pristine beauty.

The pond water was not frozen; a stream still flowed from the ground, and a thin mist rose from the surface, shrouded in a hazy, veil-like vapor. Several overwintering wild ducks stood with their necks tucked in beside the withered lotus stems, occasionally paddling with their red webbed feet, creating shallow, fan-shaped ripples on the leaden-gray water.

Deep within the Imperial Garden, on the eastern side, stands a warm pavilion constructed of massive logs and translucent glazed tiles. Its roof, covered with deep blue glazed tiles, is studded with a layer of snow. Bronze wind chimes hang from the eaves, emitting a faint, clear, intermittent tinkling sound as the north wind blows. The pavilion's pillars are unpainted, their natural wood grain meticulously polished to reveal its smooth texture, gleaming with a restrained amber luster under the snow's light.

The pavilion is heated by underfloor heating, making it as warm as spring. The floor is covered with a pure white wool felt carpet from Khotan in the Western Regions, and on the carpet sits a low sandalwood couch covered with a thick silver fox fur. On the low table sits a gilded and silver incense burner, burning agarwood from the South China Sea. The thin wisps of smoke rise straight up and disperse into a faint mist in the air.

Yi Huawei stood by the window, his hands behind his back, gazing at the swirling snow outside the pavilion.

She wore a plain, moon-white robe, loosely tied at the waist with a matching silk sash. Her long hair was tied up, with the rest draped casually over her shoulders. The robe was made of an extremely light and soft material, a new type of silk-cotton blend fabric imported from Jiangnan. It draped like flowing water and moved almost silently.

Time seemed to have left no trace on him.

His face still looked like that of someone in their early twenties, with refined and handsome features, showing no signs of aging. On the contrary, with the passage of time, his features had become even more profound and unfathomable. His skin was warm and fair, without a trace of frost at his temples, and without a single fine line at the corner of his eyes. Only his eyes were like an ancient, icy pool, occasionally rippling with a slight movement, but the ripples were fleeting.

He stood there quietly, his aura as deep and solid as a mountain, yet perfectly blending with his surroundings. It wasn't a deliberate restraint, but rather a natural state of being, a state of being that naturally resonated with the universe.

Shan Wanjing sat on the low couch, sipping a freshly brewed cup of tea over a small table.

She wore a lotus-colored palace gown woven with silver threads and subtle patterns, over which she wore a semi-transparent cloud-patterned shawl of the same color. The style of the palace gown was not as elaborate and cumbersome as that of the previous dynasty; its lines were simple and smooth, with only a palm-width mutton-fat jade belt at the waist outlining her slender figure. The collar and cuffs were embroidered with lotus scrolls in extremely fine silver thread, the stitches dense, the flowers and leaves gracefully unfolding, shimmering with a soft luster under the snow's light.

Her long hair was styled into an elegant updo, adorned with a jade phoenix-head hairpin, its beak holding a perfectly round pearl that swayed gently with her movements. Her earrings were a pair of tiny rubies, cherished possessions from her youth, unchanged for thirty years.

Shan Wanjing is forty-three years old this year. But she had already reached the level of a grandmaster since she was a girl, and she had mastered the art of preserving her youth. Now she looks no more than twenty-eight or twenty-nine. Her skin is still fair and delicate, and her eyebrows and eyes are as beautiful as ever. However, her eyes have lost the sharpness of her youth and settled into the clarity of a queen who has ruled the world for more than twenty years.

Shan Wanjing gently set down her teacup, raised her eyes, and looked at the pale figure by the window.

"You've been standing here for so long, have you had enough of the snow?"

His voice carried a touch of casual intimacy, unlike the solemn and dignified tone he adopted in the imperial court.

Yi Huawei turned around, a slight smile curving his lips. He walked back to the low couch, sat down beside her, and picked up the cup of tea she had set aside, taking a small sip.

"The snow in Luoyang gets heavier every year. I remember when the construction of the Sacrifice Tower was first started, there was a heavy snowfall in the twelfth lunar month. The old craftsmen in the Ministry of Works were worried that the foundation of the tower would not be stable on the frozen ground. Now, more than ten years have passed, the tower stands there, and the snow falls every year."

Shan Wanjing chuckled softly: "Is Your Majesty lamenting the passage of time, or is he reminiscing about that tower?"

"All."

Yi Huawei placed the teacup back on the table: "I am also moved by Junze's kindness."

Shan Wanjing's eyes flickered slightly, but her tone remained calm: "What happened to Junze? Didn't the Imperial City Guard report last month say that he had arrived in Suiye City and also dealt with that Ancient Sect matter along the way?"

"Hmm. Well handled."

It was rare for Yi Huawei to praise the Crown Prince, but his tone remained calm: "He handled things appropriately, neither betraying his old friend's trust nor overstepping the imperial laws. However..."

He paused.

"It's just that this child is sometimes too much like me."

Shan Wanjing didn't respond; she knew her husband hadn't finished speaking.

"Too heavy, too quiet, the secrets are hidden too deep."

Yi Huawei gazed at the vast snow-covered landscape outside the pavilion: "A sixteen-year-old, yet he treats people with the deference of a sixty-year-old minister. He learned the art of rulership from me, the art of restraint from you, and the art of human relationships from his concubines... But he never easily reveals his own heart, his own thoughts, his own joys and sorrows to others."

Shan Wanjing listened quietly, a slight ripple stirring in her heart.

"He is the crown prince, and he knew from a young age what he was to inherit. He is too smart and too precocious, which is something that can't be helped."

"Hmm." Yi Huawei nodded, no longer continuing the topic.

After a moment of silence, Shan Wanjing suddenly said, "Wanwan came to pay her respects a few days ago and mentioned Chengping."

Yi Huawei looked up: "What happened to Chengping?"

Shan Wanjing's tone carried a faint smile: "That child is fourteen this year, already quite beautiful, but her temperament is much more composed than her mother's. Wanwan complains that her daughter spends all day engrossed in those 'mathematical enlightenment' books sent by the Gewu Tiangong Academy, and doesn't even bother to properly practice the Heavenly Demon Secret Manual she was taught." (End of Chapter)