A family of loyal martyrs, starting with nine wives to continue the family line.

In the second year of Xinwu, summer.

The turmoil in Jingzhou was finally quelled with the execution of thirteen heads.

Liu Ruhui, Du Ping, Yan He... these names, which once shook the officialdom with a stomp of their feet in Jingzhou, are now nothing but cold tombstones and their mansions that have been confiscated.

Inside the Imperial Study, Lin Shimao, the newly appointed top scholar, stepped into this place for the second time.

Unlike his previous anxiety, today he wore a brand-new seventh-rank county magistrate's robe. He was still slender, but his back was ramrod straight.

The place he was about to take up his post was Jiangling County, which was under the jurisdiction of Jingzhou—the old stronghold of the Liu family.

"Are you afraid?" Wei Zhao sat behind his desk, not looking up, and asked casually.

Lin Shimao's heart skipped a beat, and he bowed and replied, "Your Majesty, I... am not afraid."

He said he wasn't afraid, but his palms were already sweaty.

He knew very well that his going there was like a lamb entering a tiger's den.

In Jingzhou's officialdom, centuries-old families have deep-rooted connections. Those who were purged were only the ringleaders; the intricate network of power beneath them remains.

They hated the new policies, and they hated him even more for being a poor boy who rose to power through them.

Wei Zhao put down his vermilion brush and looked up at him.

"I know you're afraid."

Lin Shimao's body stiffened for a moment.

Wei Zhao stood up, picked up a pre-prepared imperial edict from the table, and walked to him.

"Reasoning won't work in Jingzhou."

Wei Zhao's voice was calm: "Those people only recognize the sword. If you talk to them about the law, they'll talk to you about ancestral rules. If you talk to them about people's livelihood, they'll talk to you about their former students and officials."

He handed the imperial edict to Lin Shimao.

Lin Shimao looked down and his pupils suddenly froze.

It was a blank imperial edict, with only the jade seal at the top and bottom, leaving a large blank space in the middle.

"This is..." Lin Shimao's voice was a little dry.

"The knife I gave you."

Wei Zhao's tone remained completely calm: "Once we arrive in Jingzhou, if there are any urgent matters that hinder the implementation of the new policies, there is no need to report to the authorities; you can execute them first and report later."

"This imperial edict of yours is my decree."

boom.

It felt like a thunderbolt had exploded in Lin Shimao's mind.

Execute first, then report later!

These four words represent the power that countless high-ranking officials dream of.

Now, His Majesty has so casually appointed him as a seventh-rank county magistrate with no real power or influence.

He understood instantly.

This is both a sign of trust and a test. It is also the sharpest knife His Majesty has plunged into the stagnant waters of Jingzhou.

If he uses this knife well, he can gain a foothold in Jingzhou and implement the new policies.

If used improperly, he himself will be the first to die.

A tremendous fear and an equally tremendous excitement surged within him at the same time.

A scholar will die for one who understands him.

Lin Shimao gripped the blank imperial edict, which weighed as heavily as Mount Tai, and suddenly knelt down, his forehead slamming heavily against the cold gold bricks.

"Your Majesty, I, Lin Shimao, will certainly not fail in your trust! If I cannot cure the deep-seated illness in Jingzhou, I am willing to offer my head as a reward!"

After seeing Lin Shimao off, Su Qingyun walked in from the side hall, carrying a stack of trade route accounts sent from the Northern Border.

"Does Your Majesty trust him that much?"

She placed the account book on the table, a hint of worry in her eyes: "Jingzhou is not like other places. The Liu family has fallen, but their roots remain. He's just a poor scholar..."

"A poor scholar is good."

Wei Zhao sat back down in his chair, picked up his teacup, and blew on the steam: "He has no foundation, so he can only rely on me. If he wants to survive, he must make my laws his foundation in Jingzhou."

Wei Zhao knew very well that Lin Shimao was an arrow he had shot into the past.

Just then, a spy from the Embroidered Uniform Guard silently slipped into the hall and presented a military report from the northern border.

Wei Zhao unfolded it, glanced at it, and a smile appeared on his lips.

He handed the secret report to Su Qingyun.

Su Qingyun took the letter and read it aloud in a low voice: "The Prince of Kaoshan has secretly reported that Liu Suan's personal letter has reached the seven tribes of the Snow Plains. All seven leaders have abandoned their plans to go south and have dispatched envoys with 10,000 head of cattle and sheep and 3,000 horses to request the formal opening of trade with our dynasty and the establishment of a permanent alliance..."

After Su Qingyun finished reading, she looked up, her beautiful eyes filled with astonishment.

A massive upheaval that could have devastated the North was averted with a single letter?

Wei Zhao smiled at her surprised expression, tossed the secret report into the brazier beside him, and watched it turn to ashes.

"You see, sometimes words are more effective than swords."

Looking at Wei Zhao's smiling face illuminated by the firelight, Su Qingyun felt a chill run down her spine.

Yes.

Swords kill people, but they also destroy their spirits and exterminate their clans.

His Majesty's move not only deterred the grassland tribes from rebelling again, but also made them willingly offer cattle, sheep, and horses, begging to do business with him.

More importantly, Liu Suan, that most unstable piece, has now become an invisible knife in His Majesty's hand.

This method is far more terrifying than simple killing.

A few days later, Liu Jingshuang was nearly eight months pregnant.

She had gained a lot of weight, and her once upright posture had become softer.

Tuoba Yue accompanied her every day, taking leisurely walks in the Imperial Garden.

"Xuan'er is almost able to walk, you can't be worse than him when you grow up."

Tuoba Yue, supporting Liu Jingshuang, looked at Wei Xuan, who was being led by his wet nurse and taking his first unsteady steps, and teased him with a smile.

Liu Jingshuang stroked her high, protruding belly, and a rare, gentle smile appeared on her usually icy face.

"He dares."

In a pavilion not far away, Xie Daoning and Shang Wanqing were huddled together, discussing in hushed tones over a pile of blueprints and manuscripts.

"Rice breeding should be divided into two methods, one for the north and one for the south. The north is cold, so cold-resistant varieties need to be bred, while the south is waterlogged, so flood prevention is necessary..." Xie Daoning's voice was gentle, yet his reasoning was clear.

"I've revised the blueprints for the new plow again."

Shang Wanqing pointed at the blueprints, her eyes focused and obsessive: "The plowshare is made of refined steel, which reduces the weight by 30% and increases the depth of penetration by one inch. A strong laborer can plow at least half an acre more per day."

They are working together to compile an agricultural book whose title was personally chosen by Emperor Wei Zhao – the New Agricultural Book.

Wei Zhao said that all farmers in the world should know that farming is not just about physical strength, but also about using one's brain and having access to books.

This was unimaginable in the past.

But now, it's happening.

That night, all was quiet.

After reviewing the last memorial, Wei Zhao rubbed his slightly swollen temples and left the imperial study.

He did not return to the inner palace, but stood alone on the steps in front of the palace, gazing at the starry sky.

Behind him, the door to the Imperial Study was open. The lights were on, illuminating the huge map of the entire new martial world on the wall.

On the map, mountains, rivers, prefectures, and military towns are densely packed and interlocked.

The rebellion in Jingzhou has been quelled, the threat in the north has been temporarily eliminated, and new blood selected through the imperial examinations is being injected into every part of this vast empire.

Everything was progressing according to his plan, step by step, and getting back on track.

Wei Zhao's gaze slowly swept across the map, across the Central Plains, across the grasslands, and across those familiar territories.

Finally, his gaze settled on the westernmost part of the map, on a vast, unmarked blank area.

That place is the Western Regions.

It is a place recorded in historical books, but which has been cut off from the Central Plains for hundreds of years.

What about beyond the Western Regions?

What lies further away?

Wei Zhao stared at that deep blank space for a very long time.

He didn't look away until the oil lamp behind him flickered and popped open with a soft sound.

The world is not yet unified.

The war is not over yet.

He turned around and walked back into the lights, his eyes calm, yet deeper than the darkness behind him.