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

Ten days after the Western Regions delegation departed, Fang Zhaoru settled in the residence of the White-Robed National Preceptor.

Fang Fuyao placed the teacup on the table, and the bottom of the cup made a soft sound as it tapped.

"Grandpa, how long do you intend to dredge up that old grudge?"

Fang Zhaoru looked down at the tea in his cup and did not answer immediately.

His fingers paused on the rim of the glass, as if he were considering which sentence to begin.

Fang Fuyao saw it clearly, and felt a tightness in her chest.

This old man endured three years in the Western Regions, and upon returning to the capital, he was still the same. He barely said a few words before presenting himself as an old stone.

"I'm not going through the accounts."

Fang Zhaoru slowly said, "I was thinking, if I hadn't brought the map out back then, would so many people have died on the White Wolf Tribe?"

Fang Fuyao pursed her lips.

"What's the use of saying this now? The map has already been sent back, and His Majesty has already issued the edict. It's a bit late, but it's better than keeping it in our hands forever."

Fang Zhaoru looked up at her, his gaze showing a hint of weariness, but also a touch of indescribable relief.

That pine wasn't a relief, it meant that someone had finally taken over the matter.

"On my way back, what I feared most was that you would treat it like a treasure."

He whispered, "That thing isn't a treasure, it's a path. If you hold onto a path too tightly, the person walking on it will die on the spot."

Fang Fuyao didn't respond for a moment.

She didn't like hearing these words that sounded like both admonition and sigh, but she also knew that her grandfather was right.

What the White Wolf tribe ever wanted was not a map to be worshipped, but a way back.

If Wei Zhao also considers it a rare commodity, then these three hundred years have been wasted.

Fang Zhaoru suddenly added, "Bai Tukui's younger brother won't just send one letter and call it a day."

Fang Fuyao picked up the teapot and refilled his cup.

"It's already on its way."

She said, "There are people watching Yangguan. If Bai Tu Kui really wants to come, he'll have to run into a wall first."

Fang Zhaoru paused for a moment before nodding.

"That's good. It's better to run into a wall than to not even find one."

Fang Fuyao looked at him, and in her heart she knew that the old man wasn't talking about the wall, but about fate.

She wanted to curse, but swallowed the words back.

Forget it.

Everyone's back now, there's no point in continuing to scold them.

Once he's fully recovered, we'll settle the old scores with him slowly.

Meanwhile, the schools in the south of the capital were already so crowded that there was hardly any room left for people to stand.

Wei Zhao stood outside the door, looking at the newly posted enrollment list, still holding a folded roster in his hand.

Two weeks ago, he simply had someone try to open a batch of schools to teach literacy, accounting, military regulations, and local laws. He originally thought that it would be good if a hundred or so people came.

As soon as the list was posted, the number of applicants was so high that it practically burned the threshold.

The unused granary next door was temporarily converted into a lecture hall, with rows of wooden benches crammed inside.

Looking at the scene before him, he felt somewhat at ease.

To win a battle, you need a sword.

But if a dynasty really wants to survive, it can't rely solely on force.

Otherwise, even if we manage to hold onto Yangguan today, we'll still be dragged down by our own people tomorrow.

Fang Zhaoru sat at the very front, leaning slightly forward on one side, like an ordinary old gentleman.

He only went for one hour each day, not to give lectures, but to listen in.

After class, students would gather around to ask him questions, and he would never put on airs. He would answer anyone's questions with more patience than the young people.

Li Huai walked over from behind, lowering his voice.

"Your Majesty, it's a pity to leave the old gentleman's vast knowledge in the school."

Wei Zhao did not turn around.

"He chose it himself, don't force him."

Li Huai was taken aback for a moment, then understood and said no more.

He knew that His Majesty's words were not perfunctory, but rather a return of the choice to Fang Zhaoru himself.

Wei Zhao knew very well that if a person still carried old debts in his heart, the more others advised him to do something, the less willing he would be.

It's better to let him sit there and wait for him to figure it out on his own.

Wei Zhao also had other thoughts in his mind.

What the capital city lacks most right now is not people who can write, but people who can speak clearly and do things clearly.

If Fang Zhaoru is willing to stay in the school, even just sitting there, it would be better than keeping him cooped up in the mansion all day.

At least he can pull those nearly broken wires back up one by one.

He turned to leave, but paused for a moment by the Imperial Garden.

The laughter over there was so loud that it was hard to pretend I didn't hear it.

From a distance, Wei Zhao saw Tuoba Yue chasing a little child all over the garden.

Wei Xuan was already over two years old, and he ran like a little colt, clutching a tree branch in his hand as he used it as a whip, shouting as he ran.

"Giddy up—giddy up—"

Tuoba Yue chased after him, panting, laughing and cursing as she went.

"Slow down! If you take another step, I'll break that broken branch of yours!"

Wei Xuan turned around, stuck his tongue out at her, and then turned to crawl towards the flower bed, almost falling headfirst into the pond.

Tuoba Yue was so frightened that her face changed color. She rushed over, picked him up, and patted his back twice.

"You'll work your mother to death before you tear down the roof."

Liu Jingshuang sat beside her, holding Wei Heng, who was only three months old, in her arms.

She was dressed in a simple, fitted outfit, sitting upright. The child in her arms was quiet, with wide, round eyes and babbling bubbles.

After returning to Beijing, she has been spending time with her child.

She glanced down and even managed a rare smile.

"Your two children, one is like a donkey, and the other is like a cat."

Tuoba Yue lifted Wei Xuan into her arms, deliberately teasing him.

"Did you hear that? Your aunt said you look like a donkey."

Wei Xuan, of course, couldn't understand, but instead became more alert, waving the branch at Liu Jingshuang.

"Auntie! Little brother! Look at the horses!"

Liu Jingshuang looked down at Wei Heng in her arms and said, "Your brother is calling you to go see the horses. Wait until you're a little older before you join in his antics."

Wei Zhao stood there for a while, and suddenly felt a little soft-hearted.

He knew that these women were having a hard time these days.

To outsiders, they would only appear to be the ladies and empresses of the Wei family, but it was precisely they who truly held up this mansion.

One manages the formation, one manages the people, one manages the information, one manages the accounts, and one can keep an eye on both children in the garden.

Without these people, the Wei family would have fallen apart long ago.

He didn't go over to disturb them, but turned around and went back to the Imperial Study.

At night, the fast horse from Quanzhou arrived first.

Wei Zhao opened the urgent report sent by Shang Wanqing, glanced at it, and his finger stopped.

"The first fast ship has been launched and is undergoing sea trials. It is 20% faster than the pirate ships. In another three months, we can build ten more."

He stared at the line of words for a moment, a glimmer of light appearing in his eyes.

The sea route has finally met its first hurdle.

If the fast boats could truly be 20% faster than the pirates, the southeastern coast would no longer be left only to be passively attacked.

Once Shang Wanqing is inside the machine, she can really bring the dead back to life.

The second letter was a copy that Liu Jingshuang brought back from Yuezhou.

"Ke Zhenchuan led his remaining troops south to the Qiongzhou Strait, numbering about seven thousand. Before their supplies ran out, they will surely launch another northward attack, likely between summer and autumn."

Wei Zhao read the sentence again, and his brows slowly furrowed.

Seven thousand people is not a lot, but it is by no means a small number either.

Especially someone like Ke Zhenchuan, who has already been crippled but still refuses to give up, shows that he doesn't just want to grab a ticket and leave, but wants to come back and take another bite.

As summer transitions into autumn, the sea breeze shifts, and the waves from the south rise accordingly.

If he had reached the north shore at that time, the southeast coast would have been thrown into chaos again.

He picked up his vermilion brush and drew a heavy circle on the southeastern sea chart.

Then, Wei Zhao pulled out another map of the Western Regions.

The White Wolf Tribe envoy is still on his way, and Yangguan hasn't really had a chance to breathe a sigh of relief yet.

People from the west are coming, and waves from the east are returning. Neither side is at peace, so this emperor won't have a single day of leisure.

Wei Zhao leaned back in his chair, stared at the two pictures for a long time, and finally picked up his pen and wrote the character "守" (shǒu, meaning "guard") on the circle in Quanzhou.

He knew very well that this was not a matter of a single word.

In the Western Regions, we need to keep the envoy calm and keep an eye on Bai Tu Kui.

To the southeast, we need to deploy ships and block the sea routes. We have to keep an eye on both sides.

If one side is missing, the other side will tear open.

Suddenly, the sound of children's laughter drifted in from outside the window, intermittent, and came through the palace walls.

The children's noise and the military reports on the desk seemed to be from two different worlds.