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

Spring, night, in the sixth year of Yuanshuo.

Liu Che did not sleep. He sat at his desk with Dong Zhongshu's strategy from the previous year spread out in front of him. It discussed the interaction between Heaven and man, the idea that the king receives his mandate from Heaven, and the omens of disasters.

"Your Majesty, it's time to rest." The eunuch's voice came cautiously from outside the curtain.

"Step back."

The candlelight flickered as he opened Dong Zhongshu's strategy and pointed to a section with his finger.

"When a nation is about to fall into ruin due to its misconduct, Heaven will first send out calamities to warn it; if it does not reflect on its own actions, Heaven will send out strange phenomena to frighten it; if it still does not change its ways, then destruction and ruin will surely follow."

He had read this passage many times, and each time he read it, he felt that this was Dong Zhongshu's most brilliant point: he described the heavens as an early warning system.

When the emperor does a good job, auspicious omens descend from heaven; when the emperor does a bad job, calamities descend from heaven.

In this way, the sky is not an ethereal entity, but a signal source that can be read and responded to.

But what does the sky count for?

The celestial canopy is neither auspicious nor a calamity; it has no signs, no warnings, and gives no one time to react.

And so it came, using a language that everyone could understand, to lay out the events of hundreds of years in the future one by one before everyone.

The military governors, the An Lushan Rebellion, and the collapse of the Tang Dynasty from within.

This is not the "disaster as a warning" that Dong Zhongshu spoke of, nor is it the three-step warning of first disaster, then strange occurrences, and finally defeat. This is directly throwing the outcome in his face.

"Dong Zhongshu," he read the name aloud.

In the first year of the Jianyuan era, he was sixteen years old and had just ascended the throne. He issued an edict to recommend virtuous and upright officials, and Dong Zhongshu responded with the advice of being virtuous and upright.

That day, Dong Zhongshu said, "Your Majesty, please exclusively honor Confucianism and use the teachings of Confucius to unify the hearts of the people."

He listened, and he dismissed the Hundred Schools of Thought and established the Five Classics Doctors. What he wanted was not just a set of knowledge, but a set of things that could explain everything, explain why the Han Dynasty was the legitimate dynasty, why he was the Son of Heaven, and why every decision he made was correct.

Dong Zhongshu gave him a connection between heaven and man.

Over the years, he has been using this theory: when there is a solar eclipse, he issues an edict to reflect on himself, believing it is a warning from Heaven; when there is a bumper harvest, he offers sacrifices to Heaven and Earth and thanks his ancestors, believing it is a commendation from Heaven.

He could interpret and respond to every signal from the heavens.

He even began to enjoy this dialogue with the heavens, because it was tantamount to acknowledging that he was the most important person under the heavens.

But now the curtain of heaven has fallen.

The "sky curtain" is not the "sky" that Dong Zhongshu spoke of. Dong Zhongshu's "sky" is silent and needs to be hinted at through calamities and anomalies, while the "sky curtain" is direct, concrete, and merciless.

It doesn't talk about the interaction between heaven and humanity; it talks about path dependence, the dialectic of power, and the contradiction between openness and security.

He didn't quite understand these words, but he could sense that in the eyes of those people a thousand years later, the heavens were not some mysterious will, but a set of laws.

This is what makes him most uneasy.

If Heaven is communicable, then he only needs to do the right thing, and Heaven will reward him.

But what if the heavens are just a set of rules? Then he's not talking to the heavens, but playing a game against those rules.

He put down Dong Zhongshu's strategy and picked up another document, "On the Essentials of the Six Schools," which Sima Tan had presented the previous year.

"Taoism enables people to concentrate their spirit, move in harmony with the formless, and nourish all things. Its methods follow the great harmony of Yin and Yang, adopt the best of Confucianism and Mohism, extract the essentials of Legalism, adapt to the times, and respond to changes in things."

The phrase "adapting to the times and changing with circumstances" is completely different from Dong Zhongshu's concept of the interaction between Heaven and Man.

Dong Zhongshu said that if Heaven does not change, the Way will not change either. Sima Tan said that Taoism emphasizes change and adaptation.

He asked himself a question: What was his purpose in exclusively promoting Confucianism?

This is the answer that can be spoken in order to unify thinking, but what about thinking about it more deeply?

He ascended the throne at the age of sixteen. Empress Dowager Dou held real power, believed in Huang-Lao philosophy, and did not allow him to make any moves.

During the first six years of his reign, he was practically incapable of accomplishing anything. The Jianyuan New Policies were barely begun before they were suppressed by the Dou family.

The Imperial Censor Zhao Wan and the Palace Attendant Wang Zang, people he personally promoted, were forced to their deaths in prison by the Dou family.

He sat on the throne, watching his subjects die for following him, yet he could do nothing about it.

He still remembers that feeling of helplessness.

After Dou's death, he was finally able to get things done, but he needed a theory, a theory that could prove all his decisions were correct.

Legalism is no good; the lessons of the Qin Dynasty are all too recent.

The strategists are no good; a unified era doesn't need them.

The Mohist school is too small, and the peasant school is too narrow.

Only Confucianism emphasizes the hierarchical relationship between ruler and subject, the concept of unified rule, and the idea of ​​receiving the Mandate of Heaven.

Dong Zhongshu added the concept of the interaction between Heaven and humanity, essentially putting a theological shell over Confucianism.

This is exactly what Liu Che needed.

He dismissed all schools of thought not because they were all wrong, but because he needed a unified system of interpretation.

The best answer is the interaction between Heaven and man. As long as he can communicate with Heaven, everything he does is in accordance with Heaven and the will of man.

But now the curtain of heaven has arrived, shattering a crack in his painstakingly constructed explanatory system.

The words Tianmu spoke did not belong to Confucianism, Taoism, or any school of thought he was familiar with.

They seem to stand at a higher vantage point, looking down on all dynasties, using a set of logic they only vaguely understand to analyze rise and fall, path dependence, institutional inertia, production relations, and the transformation of contradictions.

He suddenly wondered what those people on the celestial canopy would say if they were asked to talk about the interaction between heaven and man.

They probably wouldn't say "Heaven sends down calamities as a warning," they might say that the so-called interaction between Heaven and humanity is essentially a set of theoretical tools to restrain imperial power.

Disasters and anomalies are not Heaven speaking, but ministers speaking on behalf of Heaven.

Thinking of this, he suddenly chuckled.

Dong Zhongshu probably never thought of this. His original intention in designing the interaction between Heaven and Man was to use Heaven to restrain the emperor. If you do something wrong, Heaven will send down disasters, and you will have to reflect on your actions.

But Liu Che used it for something else. He took the initiative to interpret the will of Heaven, to admit his mistakes, and to issue edicts to reflect on himself, turning the constraints into a performance.

Every time, it's like telling the world: I am the one who speaks with Heaven, and I am qualified to interpret Heaven's signals.

Ultimately, the tools are in the hands of the users; the creator's thoughts are insignificant.

But the sky doesn't need interpretation; it speaks too clearly.

"Destiny." He uttered these two words, feeling a sense of absurdity.

Dong Zhongshu said that a king is ordained by Heaven. When he ascended the throne, everyone said that he was the true Son of Heaven, ordained by Heaven, and he believed it.

But what did Tianmu say? Tianmu said that the Qin Dynasty only lasted two generations, that the Tang Dynasty suffered the An Lushan Rebellion, and that every dynasty would collapse from within.

No dynasty lasts forever, and no emperor is truly ordained by Heaven. If there is a Mandate of Heaven, then that Mandate is the very cycle of rise and fall.

Tianmu has never mentioned the words "destiny".

In the language of those people a thousand years later, the concept of destiny seems to have no meaning at all.

They are talking about laws, inevitability, and contradictions.

"His Majesty."

A deep voice came from behind him. Liu Che turned around and saw Wei Qing.

"The news of Qu Bing's victory has reached the Northern Army camp, and the entire army is in high spirits. I request Your Majesty to decide whether to discuss the matter of rewards and honors at tomorrow's court assembly."

Liu Che did not answer immediately, but asked a completely unrelated question.

"Wei Qing, do you believe in the interaction between Heaven and humanity?"

Wei Qing was stunned. He was a general, not a Confucian scholar, and he didn't understand these things.

"Your subject... Your subject is a rough man and does not understand Master Dong's teachings."

"I'm not testing you," Liu Che's voice was calm. "I'm genuinely asking you: when you're fighting, do you feel like Heaven is watching?"

Wei Qing thought for a long time. He recalled the winter of the Battle of Longcheng when he led 10,000 cavalrymen out of the pass. The snow was so heavy that even the guides got lost.

In the wind and snow, he saw a blurry shadow in the distance, which looked like a mountain or a cloud.

He led his army in that direction, and after two days, he indeed found the royal court of the Xiongnu.

Later, someone told him that it was Heaven guiding him.

"At the time, I thought that perhaps Heaven was watching," Wei Qing said slowly. "But now I think, perhaps it wasn't Heaven, perhaps I was just lucky, or perhaps the guide got lost but just happened to be on the right track. Your Majesty, to be honest, on the battlefield, I have more faith in the sword in my hand than in Heaven."

Liu Che looked at him, this man who rose from a stable boy in Jianzhang Palace to a great general, who never minced words.

"You're right." Liu Che calmly analyzed himself, "Over the years, I have been communicating with Heaven, which makes me feel that I am special. But Heaven tells me that I am not special. I am just a link in the chain of historical laws."

He walked back to the desk and picked up Dong Zhongshu's countermeasures.

"But I will not abolish Confucianism now. This system is useful for governing the country. I need it to unify thinking, to select talents, and to maintain order."

He looked up at Wei Qing.

"But I will wait."

"Wait?" Wei Qing was taken aback.

"We'll make a decision once Tianmu mentions the Great Han Dynasty."

Liu Che sat down again, picked up the pen, but did not write anything; he simply held the pen in his hand.

"But there are some things that I can do right now."

He unfolded a blank bamboo slip and slowly wrote a few lines.

"Three new subjects, namely agriculture, mathematics, and law, will be added. These subjects will not be part of the regular curriculum taught by the officials. Separate schools will be set up for each subject, with one doctor and ten disciples, under the jurisdiction of the Grand Historian, in order to preserve these lost arts for future use."

He wrote slowly, stroke by stroke, and after finishing, he pushed the bamboo slips aside and picked up the report of victory.

"I will issue an edict tomorrow regarding Qubing's rewards. He fought a brilliant battle and deserves his due reward, but I will not grant him any additional power." He paused. "I want him to be a sharp knife, but I cannot let him think that this knife can decide where to cut on its own."

Wei Qing kowtowed, "Your Majesty is wise."

"I am not wise." Liu Che shook his head. "I was just frightened. Tianmu said that the greatest danger lurks in success. I have been too successful these years, so successful that I thought I was omnipotent."

He stood up and walked to the terrace outside the hall, where the first rays of pale light were already appearing in the east.

As the morning breeze blew, the iron saddles on the eaves of Weiyang Palace jingled.

Liu Che stood in the increasingly bright daylight, gazing at the slowly awakening outline of Chang'an.

Huo Qubing's victory news is spreading throughout the city, and soon there will be cheers and clamor in the taverns. This is a victory for the Han Dynasty, and a victory for him.

But for the first time, he felt that victory itself was also a danger.

When the sky brightens again, before he hears the fate of the Han Dynasty, he can reflect, adjust, and make some minor changes that won't cause serious damage, but he will not make any major decisions.

He needs an answer.

An answer that only the sky can provide.