I'll steal Gao Qiu's life and lead the Song Dynasty to prosperity.

When Zhao Tingzhi received the invitation from the Zeng family, he was checking a draft of an imperial edict in the back room of his house.

The post was politely worded, stating that "there are matters concerning the joint autumn rewards and the regulations for the compensation of those killed in action, which need to be discussed in person," and requested that Zhao Tingzhi "take the time to come to the residence for a discussion."

Autumn rewards and pensions were indeed matters of cross-departmental administration between the Ministry of Rites and the Privy Council, and there had been such exchanges in the past.

But at this critical juncture, Zeng Bu was fined and placed on probation.

Zhao Tingzhi had only been "penalized but retained" for a few days when Zeng Bu sent a letter inviting him to the government office for a meeting.

Zhao Tingzhi held the invitation card, his palms slightly sweaty.

Being timid and afraid of trouble was Zhao Tingzhi's old problem. His first thought was to decline, either by claiming illness or being busy.

Say whatever you want, just stay as far away from the people at the center of these controversies as possible.

But then I thought about it again and didn't dare to do it.

Zeng Bu was still the Privy Councilor, a high-ranking official of the first rank, and the Emperor did not actually dismiss him from his post.

The post was sent under the guise of official business. What reason could a mere secretary in the Imperial Secretariat, who had just been placed on "probation," possibly have to decline it?

If he really refuses, and this gets out, will it mean that Zhao Tingzhi is disrespecting the Privy Councilor, or that he has something to hide?

The old butler carefully observed Zhao Tingzhi's expression and asked in a low voice.

"My lord, shall we reply?"

Zhao Tingzhi stared at the post for a long time before finally letting out a sigh of relief.

"Yes, tell them... Your humble servant obeys and will pay a visit to the residence tomorrow afternoon."

"Yes."

The old butler withdrew.

Zhao Tingzhi picked up his pen again to write the draft, but his hand became unsteady, and the more he wrote, the worse it got. Frustrated, he threw down his pen and stared blankly at the bookshelf.

He had a vague premonition that this meeting with Zeng Bu was definitely not just about the Qiu Shang program.

……

The following afternoon, Zhao Tingzhi arrived at Zeng Bu's residence on time.

The gatekeeper respectfully led him inside, through two courtyards, to the inner study, not the outer living room.

This made Zhao Tingzhi's heart tighten again.

Zeng Bu was reading in his study when he saw Zhao Tingzhi enter. He put down his book, stood up, and smiled.

"Thank you for making this trip, Mr. Zhao. Please have a seat."

"This humble official dares not. If Lord Zeng summons me, this humble official shall obey." Zhao Tingzhi bowed and sat down on the chair below, only daring to sit on half of his buttocks.

The study was elegantly furnished, with bookshelves on all four walls, and neatly arranged writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones on the desk. Several pieces of porcelain were displayed on the antique shelf, which looked unassuming, but those in the know would recognize that each piece was a masterpiece.

There was a faint scent of sandalwood mixed with the smell of ink in the air.

Zeng Bu had his servants serve tea and began by discussing the autumn rewards and pensions.

Which reward categories need adjustment? Which regulations regarding the compensation of the surviving families of fallen soldiers are ambiguous? How should the Ministry of Rites issue its document? How should the Privy Council review it?

His explanation was clear and logical; these were all genuine official duties of Zhao Tingzhi.

Zhao Tingzhi was initially worried, but gradually relaxed and agreed with everything, raising some of the Ministry of Rites' practices and difficulties.

The two talked for about 15 minutes, and then they finished discussing most of their business.

Zeng Bu picked up his teacup, blew away the foam, and casually remarked.

"By the way, Zhao Sheren, I heard that your son Mingcheng won first place in the Imperial Academy's private examination last month? And recently he has been summoned by His Majesty twice. He is truly a young talent, worthy of our admiration."

Zhao Tingzhi's heart skipped a beat, but he quickly put on a smile and bowed.

"My son is young and has only read a few books by rote. He was lucky enough to catch the eye of the examiner. As for the emperor's summons to the audience, that is a great favor from the emperor, giving a young man a chance to speak. It is nothing special. It is all thanks to the emperor and the court for their cultivation. I am not worthy of such praise from you, sir."

"Oh, Lord Zhao, you're too modest."

Zeng Bu waved his hand, put down his teacup, and looked at Zhao Tingzhi with a sincere expression.

"This is not an exaggeration. I have also read your son's policy essay, which refutes the argument that border wars deplete the nation's resources. It is truly well-written. The data is detailed, the reasoning is thorough, and what is even more commendable is the insight. Your son does not indulge in empty talk; every sentence is grounded in reality. At such a young age, to have such insight, his future is limitless."

Zeng Bu sighed softly.

"To be honest, Lord Zhao, I have many thoughts on this whole affair. Now that I have witnessed it firsthand, I understand many things much better."

"The court is ever-changing; we never know what tomorrow will bring. Only when we see a constant stream of promising young talents emerging in the court can we feel that the future of this nation is promising. It is truly a blessing for Zhao Sheren to have such a son, a fortune for his family and a boon for the court."

These words were spoken from the bottom of his heart.

He not only praised Zhao Mingcheng, but also subtly pointed out his own current situation (to observe and then follow), and revealed a hope for the future.

Especially the last line, "A blessing for the family and a boon for the court," elevates Zhao Mingcheng to a respectable level.

Zhao Tingzhi felt a surge of warmth in his heart, but also a sense of panic; Zeng Bu's words were too harsh.

He repeatedly cupped his hands in greeting.

"My lord, you flatter me. I am not worthy of such praise."

Zeng Bu didn't reply. Suddenly remembering something, he got up and walked to the bookshelf. After searching briefly, he pulled out an old book with a blue cloth cover and walked back.

"It is quite a coincidence that in my early years, when I had some free time, I enjoyed reading the 'Strategies of the Warring States' and I once collated and annotated a niche commentary. This was written by a disgruntled scholar from the previous dynasty, and it has some unique insights into the intricacies of political maneuvering and the subtleties of human nature, which are different from ordinary commentaries."

Zeng Bu handed the book to Zhao Tingzhi.

"It's just gathering dust now. I think the young man might be interested in this. If you don't mind, Zhao Sheren, take it back for your son to see. If he finds it somewhat interesting, he can take a look; if he thinks it's useless, he can discard it. There's no need to be so formal."

Zhao Tingzhi quickly accepted it with both hands.

The book is not thick, and the blue cloth cover is somewhat worn, but it is well preserved.

He opened the title page, which contained neat, small-script annotations, densely packed with powerful strokes—the handwriting of Zeng Bu.

This is hardly a book that can be "discarded."

This is a reader personally annotated by Zeng Bu, a testament to his scholarly dedication.

Zeng Bu gifted this book; the meaning couldn't be clearer.

"This...how can this be?" Zhao Tingzhi was somewhat at a loss. "This is your husband's life's work, and my son is too young to..."

"It's just a book," Zeng Bu said with a friendly smile.

"The essence of learning lies in exchange. Your son has insightful views on practical economics, and perhaps he can learn some ways of observing trends and people from this book. It would be a good thing if they complemented each other. Therefore, Zhao Sheren, you need not refuse."

Having said all that, to push it any further would be ungrateful.

Zhao Tingzhi held the book as if it were a hot piece of charcoal, or a life-saving straw.

He stood up and bowed deeply.

"On behalf of my son, I thank you for your generous gift, sir."

"You're too kind." Zeng Bu offered a slight gesture of support and sat down again.

"Let's stop here for today. As for the autumn reward and pension, we can proceed with the formalities as we just discussed."

"Yes, Your Excellency obeys."

Zhao Tingzhi bowed again, picked up the book, and left the study.

In the carriage on his way back home, Zhao Tingzhi stared at the blue-covered book "Annotations on the Strategies of the Warring States" on his lap for a long time without moving.

Zeng Bu understood what he meant. The excuses that "young people may like this" and "let it gather dust" were just that—excuses.

This is an olive branch being extended, a gesture of goodwill, an attempt to win them over.

Moreover, it seems that they weren't targeting Zhao Tingzhi, but rather his son.

Zeng Bu saw Zhao Mingcheng's potential, his connection to the emperor through Jian Juan (whom he had met twice), and his special relationship with Prince Duan.

He wanted to establish a connection with Mingcheng through Zhao Tingzhi, a seemingly straightforward connection that "encourages those who are behind."

Do you want to accept it?

Zhao Tingzhi was actually in a state of great turmoil.

Zeng Bu was a Privy Councilor, a powerful and influential figure with many protégés and former officials throughout the court and the country.

Although it was given a warning this time, even a weakened camel is bigger than a horse, and it still has enormous influence in the military and the court.

If we can get their protection, at least next time there's trouble, we'll have someone to speak up for us.

Moreover, the animosity between Zeng Bu and Cai Jing was almost an open secret.

The enemy of my enemy may become my friend. Cai Jing almost crushed the Zhao family this time, and this enmity has been formed. Moreover, who knows what new trouble Cai Jing will cause in the future.

If the Zhao family could get close to Zeng Bu, wouldn't that be a way to check Cai Jing?

However, there are also risks. Zeng Bu himself is still "observing before acting," and the emperor is clearly already suspicious of him.

If we approach them now, they might be seen as part of Zeng Bu's faction by the authorities, and Cai Jing might use this as an excuse to further persecute the Zhao family.

Neither left nor right is suitable.

Zhao Tingzhi felt a splitting headache.

When the carriage arrived at the Zhao residence, Zhao Ting got out, his steps a little unsteady. He went straight to his study and closed the door.

He placed Zeng Bu's "Annotations on the Strategies of the Warring States" on his desk, looked at it for a while, then spread out paper, ground ink, and picked up his brush.

He planned to tell his son everything that had happened that day.

This includes every word Zeng Bu spoke, every expression he made, and even the act of giving him the book.

Zhao Tingzhi did not consider himself a decisive father, especially in such a major matter. He feared that his choice would harm his son and the entire Zhao family.

Although his son is young, the temperament, methods, and insight he has shown recently are things that his father can no longer keep up with.

The Prince Duan's family handled the situation with ease during the two audiences at the Chuigong Hall, and calmly responded to the family upheaval, even managing to persuade the Prince Duan and the Empress Dowager to pass on a message...

His son knows better than his father how to survive and move forward.

Let our son make this decision himself.

Zhao Tingzhi wrote with lightning speed, detailing what he had seen and heard that day. At the end, he paused and added a sentence:

"Your intentions are good, and your heart is clear. However, I cannot fully understand the advantages and disadvantages involved. You can decide for yourself whether to accept or not. It is up to you. I only wish you peace and prosperity, and that the Zhao family will not fall. Whatever decision you make, I will share the burden with you."

After writing it down, he sealed it and summoned Afu.

"Send it to the Imperial Academy and personally hand it to your son, instructing him to burn it immediately after reading it, leaving no written record."

"Yes, sir."

Afu left in a hurry.

Zhao Tingzhi sat alone in his study, watching the sun gradually setting outside the window.

He suddenly felt very tired, a kind of weariness that seeped from the very marrow of his bones. Being an official was truly like walking on thin ice, always trembling with fear.

But he had no choice. For the sake of the Zhao family and his son, he could only continue walking forward on the ice.