A live-streamed Chinese language lesson under the sky—the ancients were taken aback.

The scene slowly shifts, revealing a huge diagram of the Tang Dynasty's institutional framework, including the military governors, the conscription system, and the tributary prefectures and counties.

Failure is the mother of success, but success is also the mother of failure.

All the systems of the Tang Dynasty were designed for its glorious military achievements.

The centralized power of the military governors, the heavy reliance on non-Han generals, and the control over the surrounding areas were all optimal solutions at the time.

But the greatest danger lurks precisely within success.

When a pattern continues to bring glory, the entire empire will develop a path dependency on it.

They treat expedient measures for a specific period as universally applicable and eternal truths.

In his later years, Emperor Xuanzong was not only blind to the risks posed by An Lushan, but he also could not imagine or believe that the perfect system that had brought the Tang Dynasty to its peak would collapse from within.

Success itself creates a fatal cognitive blind spot.

Path dependence—these four words are incredibly accurate.

[This looks familiar. Didn't the Legalists, the founders of the old winning school, also follow this approach?]

If the changes in production relations fail to keep pace with the development of productive forces, it will inevitably explode sooner or later. As Mr. Ma said long ago.

[Those who came before, could Teacher Ma have even predated the Tang Dynasty?]

……

The scene shifts to a sharp Tang sword being forged in a furnace, its blade gleaming coldly.

The camera zooms out, and the hand holding the knife is no longer the Tang general's hand, but a hand wearing a Hu (non-Han) wrist guard.

"Second, the dialectic of power: any weapon will backfire."

This is perhaps the cruelest law of history: the weapons you forge to fight your enemies will one day turn against you.

In order to fight against the Turks and Tibetans, the empire had no choice but to entrust its sharpest sword to its bravest warriors.

But once the sword is forged, it no longer obeys the swordsmith's will.

It has its own weight, its own edge, and its own will.

An Lushan was not an external enemy; he was the sword that the Tang Dynasty had forged to its ultimate form, which ultimately turned against its master.

The essence of power is that it forever seeks expansion, and will inevitably exceed the boundaries that the creator can control.

The scene shifts to the open gates of Chang'an, where caravans of merchants from the Central Asian countries stream in, bringing wealth and bustle.

But the same door also reflects the firelight when An Lushan's rebel army stormed into Chang'an.

"Third, there is a conflict between openness and security; there is no order that is free."

The openness of the Tang Dynasty stemmed from an almost naive self-confidence.

It believes in the unity of Chinese and barbarians, and that civilization can transform everything.

However, while openness brings vitality, it also inevitably brings risks.

You cannot simply accept the wealth of Hu merchants, the beauty of Hu music, and the bravery of Hu generals, while completely rejecting the competition, dissent, and rebellion they might bring.

A completely open system, while bringing about a huge flow of energy, inevitably lowers its own safety threshold.

This is a fundamental contradiction: absolute security requires closure, while absolute vitality requires openness.

The Tang Dynasty chose the latter path, reaching its peak amidst vitality, but ultimately crashing down due to the collapse of its security.

[Opening the window attracts mosquitoes, but closing it prevents drafts]

[Tang Dynasty: I want it all; History: No, you can't]

The combined forces of history mean that every choice comes at a price.

[So later, the Qing Dynasty kept their windows tightly shut, suffocating themselves.]

……

The scene shifts to a huge map showing the Tang Dynasty's territory constantly expanding and its borders pushing outwards.

But with each inch of progress, the map's color deepened, until finally the entire empire's territory turned a somber dark red.

Fourth, the limits of cognition: every civilization has its blind spots.

Those caught in the vortex of history are not omniscient or omnipotent.

The decision-makers of the Tang Dynasty were among the most intelligent and confident people in the world at that time.

However, they also have their own cognitive constraints. They believe in the Confucian ideal of pacifying distant peoples and the universality of the Heavenly Khan system, but they underestimate the explosive power of ethnic identity in times of crisis.

They saw the influx of nations to pay tribute to them through openness, but they did not foresee the potential escalation of rivals due to the diffusion of technology and systems.

This limitation in understanding is not due to ignorance, but rather an inevitable consequence of the times.

Every civilization can only grope its way forward based on its own experience and beliefs, and some costs only seem so shocking in retrospect.

Anyone can be a Monday morning quarterback, but who could have seen things clearly at the time?

We only realize the blind spots of civilization after we've stumbled, but unfortunately, those stumbles hurt terribly.

Historical materialism: Existence determines consciousness; they cannot transcend their own time.

Therefore, we should read more books and newspapers, eat fewer snacks and sleep more. Oh, no, I mean, "learn from history to understand the rise and fall of dynasties."

……

The scene slowly darkens, a firework rises in the night sky, explodes, dazzlingly brilliant, and then the light slowly falls, scattering into the boundless darkness.

"The tragic nature of glory is that it cannot be enjoyed in moderation. Ultimately, the tragedy of the Tang Dynasty may be rooted in the very nature of glory itself."

Glory is a peak experience, which naturally rejects restraint, prudence, and mediocrity.

When a civilization stands at the pinnacle of the world, it cannot help but expand, flaunt its achievements, and believe in its own myths.

Therefore, it must reach the end of its strength, reach the moment when the sunlight is most dazzling, and then it will find that there is already a cliff under its feet.

This is not the fault of any one person, but a tragedy jointly composed of humanity, power, and the instinct for civilizational expansion.

The summit itself is a precipice; it's just that those standing on top cannot see the cracks beneath their feet.

Quantitative change leads to qualitative change, and contradictions drive development, but the direction is not necessarily upward; it could also be a precipitous fall.

Therefore, as Marx said, things always turn to their opposites, and the glory of the Tang Dynasty gradually turned to its opposite as well.

……

He wanted to speak but his voice became softer, yet every word was clear.

Why does honor come at a price? Because light and darkness are two sides of the same coin.

A few lines of text finally appeared on the sky.

The sorrow and the blessing of the blessings, the blessings of the blessings.

Who can know its ultimate limit? It has no fixed form. What is right can become strange, and what is good can become evil. Human beings have been confused for a very long time.

(Who knows the ultimate boundary of the transformation between fortune and misfortune? There is no fixed and unchanging rule. The normal can become abnormal, the kind can become evil, and good and evil can transform into each other. People have been puzzled by this for a long time.)

Several emperors went outside the palace to get a better view of the sky.

Ying Zheng softly recited the next line: "Therefore, the sage is principled but not cutting."

Zhu Yuanzhang's expression was complex. "Is it 'honest but not hurtful'?" (He had a fastidious sense of right and wrong, but didn't want to offend others.)

Liu Che frowned. "Straightforward but not presumptuous?"

Li Shimin stared intently at the last sentence, "Radiant but not dazzling." (He possessed brilliance and talent, but never flaunted or showed off.)

Therefore, the sage is principled but not cutting, honest but not hurtful, straightforward but not unrestrained, and radiant but not dazzling.