Nobita's Time Heist

The last brake pad for reshaping the world has been removed. Now, nothing can stop him from stepping on the gas and starting a two-thousand-year-long reverse.

"Farewell, cage!"

Chapter 186: Three Years of Regent Reign, Within Chang'an City

"It's completely different from what I imagined..."

The simplicity and dilapidation of Tongxin Village gave Da Xiong and his friends a very direct understanding of the productivity of this era; even the city where the emperor lived probably wouldn't be much better. However, their actual arrival still opened their eyes to a whole new world.

First of all, this place is completely different from the "city" you might imagine. Within the city walls, the palace occupies two-thirds of the area, and the remaining third contains the residences of various administrative organs and the royal family and officials, leaving very little living space for ordinary people.

Rather, the vast majority of the people living within the city walls were engaged in work related to the current government, and there were virtually no ordinary people from humble backgrounds. On the other hand, outside the city walls, there were many houses scattered around, densely packed in the suburbs. Even so, the quality and appearance of these houses were a step above those of the villagers in Tongxin Village.

A winding city wall, forming an irregular square, firmly encloses the heart of the country. To avoid the palace, the wall itself is missing its northwest corner, and the southern part of the west wall and the western part of the south wall bend outwards. Da Xiong couldn't imagine how much manpower and resources it would have taken to complete such a massive project two thousand years ago, when there was no mechanical power and everything had to be done by man.

Dust rose and fell, yet the place did not appear rigid; it revealed the profound heritage of a dynasty in every aspect.

"Wow, that's amazing. The entire city is designed to serve the political center." Nobita swallowed hard, looking at the densely packed buildings all around him, and exclaimed, "Xiaoshan recommended a book to me called 'Foundation Empire.' Shizuka, have you read it?"

Since becoming addicted to "Fifteen Boys Adrift," Dekisugi was also very happy and would recommend books to Nobita from time to time. After a few times, he had basically figured out Nobita's favorite genres—novelty, fun, and adventure. Of course, perhaps influenced by Doraemon, his taste leaned towards science fiction, but not too complicated. Thus, the famous space opera, "Foundation," naturally came into his view.

"Ah, Trantor?" Shizuka's reading volume was clearly more than Nobita's. Although she wasn't very interested in the Galactic Empire, she had still finished reading the first book. "The capital of the Galactic Empire, the entire planet supports 45 billion people, and is responsible for assisting the Empire in handling administrative affairs throughout the entire galaxy."

"When I read it, I found it incredible. I never imagined that this concept was already a reality two thousand years ago."

"To be honest... isn't this a bit too open?" Asur couldn't help but complain. "How can so many people flood in when it's an administratively managed city?!"

Just as she said, Chang'an Avenue was packed with people. At first, Da Xiong was a little worried that someone might notice something strange about their clothes and accents, thus giving them away. But now it seemed there was no need for that at all, because there were just too many people! Walking on the street, it was shoulder to shoulder, and there was hardly any room to stand. You had to be on your guard to avoid being separated by the crowd.

Most remarkably, the people on the street dressed in vastly different social classes: there were commoners of low status, elegantly dressed scholars, and high-ranking officials with an air of authority. Whether on horseback, in a sedan chair, or on foot, they all seemed to share the same goal, their faces bearing a strange sense of mission. They had all spontaneously taken to the streets to do something of great benefit to all humanity.

"This must be what they call 'synchronicity,' the purity is just too high..." Asur couldn't help but complain.

Huang Amao's face was full of worry. Back when he lived in the village, he'd see no more than twenty people a day at most. Now, just walking around the street, his field of vision was filled with over a hundred people—there was no comparison. In such a surging crowd, how easy was it to find his parents?

For a moment, he was somewhat unsure of what he was there for.

"Should I step through that magical pink wooden door and go back to the village?"—he thought to himself.

……

"Excuse me, I'm sorry to have taken up your time!"

Da Xiong randomly pulled someone over; his intuition was always excellent, and he carefully selected someone who seemed patient and relatively clean-cut. The man's fingers had no calluses, and his complexion was fair, leading Da Xiong to deduce he was a scholar. Even so, the moment he was pulled over, the man's brows furrowed tightly. His good manners allowed him to suppress his impatience, not showing it outwardly, and he simply said, "You're merchants from another region, aren't you? What brings you here?!"

"Huh?" Shizuka was surprised at first. "How could you have started trading with the outside world so soon?"

"Since Emperor Xiaowu opened up the trade routes, merchants from foreign lands have often come to Chang'an to transport silk. You must have come from there as well."

"Emperor Xiaowu...silk...ah!"

Shizuka suddenly realized, leaned close to Nobita's ear, and whispered, "Nobita, Nobita, he's talking about the Silk Road!"

For the whole of East Asia, the Silk Road was a momentous event of extraordinary significance. Although Da Xiong didn't know the specifics, he knew that an ancient trade route existed, specifically for transporting precious handicrafts like silk. Coincidentally, the Han Dynasty, in which he lived, was the origin of the Silk Road. Da Xiong had a sudden inspiration, quickly nodded, and continued the conversation.

"Ah, that's true, but there are still some things we don't understand." Da Xiong gestured to the surging crowds on the street. "Last time we came, Chang'an wasn't this... tense?"

"Why is everyone in such a hurry? Where are you going?"

The scholar's expression changed slightly, as if he suddenly realized something. With a snap, he grabbed Da Xiong's hands tightly, looking exactly like someone genuinely recommending something to someone. "In that case, would you like to come with us?"

"what?"

“There was no coercion; everyone did it voluntarily. ‘The false emperor should be taken as the real one!’ Heaven has warned us three times already. If this prophecy is not fulfilled, misfortune will surely befall the world, and then all the people under heaven will suffer!”

"Wait, I'm a little confused." Although he understood every word, Nobita was still puzzled. "What are you talking about?"

The Confucian scholar mistook them for foreign merchants, which was understandable. Just as he was about to explain, Asur beat him to it.

"So-called prophecies are a kind of prediction circulating among the people. Their origin and source are unknown, but they have an extraordinary power in the hearts of the people," the girl explained. "The fake emperor should become the real one... Literally, it should mean that the 'fake emperor' should replace the real emperor, right?"

"Isn't this a rebellion?" Da Xiong exclaimed in surprise.

“If everyone demands this, then it might not be the case,” Asur asked. “So, who is this fake emperor?”

“You… really don’t know anything at all.” The scholar sighed, looking at the bustling crowd, and had to explain again what was almost common knowledge to the locals.

"Now, it is the third year of [Jushe] (the reign title of Emperor Ruzi Ying of the Han Dynasty)."

"The fake emperor is Wang Mang, Lord Wang!"

Chapter 187: The Fake Emperor Taken for the Real One

Tongxin Village was an isolated mountain village, so its access to information was naturally slow. What Huang Amao heard was that this good man named Wang Mang was currently being ostracized by the court and was in a state of retirement, his political life almost over. And this was actually information from two or three years ago.

After using a spy satellite and a spy robot to circulate around the city, Da Xiong and his friends pieced together a rough picture of the current situation: Comrade Lao Wang, a well-known good man, enjoyed unimaginable public approval, while the imperial family was vying for power among their relatives, and the emperor himself had an inexplicable quirk (rumored to be homosexual; the idiom "cut sleeve" originated from this emperor). The chaos had reached its peak. Public resentment was growing, and warnings from heaven were coming one after another. In this environment, everyone was hoping for a true saint to turn the tide and save everything.

More and more petitions poured into Chang'an like snowflakes. Under immense public pressure, the emperor finally granted the request and respectfully invited Wang Mang back to Chang'an to serve as an official. Moreover, this man, upon assuming office, displayed an unusual and refreshing attitude—"Don't mention officialdom to me. I have only one request: to serve my aunt." (Wang Mang's aunt was the then-Grand Empress Dowager Wang Zhengjun.)

In such chaos, he regarded the immense power he had gained as worthless, and wholeheartedly guarded his principles. Could there be anyone in the world more noble than him?

Even more tragically, Emperor Liu Xin, who had a penchant for homosexuality, died of illness at the young age of twenty-five. His premature demise was seen as one of the warnings of impending disaster.

After his death, Wang Mang swiftly consolidated power among all the maternal relatives both inside and outside the palace, and installed an infant as crown prince. Wang Mang affectionately called him "Ruzi" (meaning "child"), and ascended the throne himself, changing the dynasty name to "Jushe" (meaning "Regent"), and declaring himself the "Acting Emperor." He would temporarily manage state affairs on the child's behalf until the child was old enough to handle them.

The term "fake emperor" did not originate from anyone else, but was coined by Wang Mang himself. He repeatedly emphasized in public that he was only temporarily managing affairs on behalf of Liu Ying for a period of time, and that he would properly return the throne to Liu Ying once he came of age.

Of course, judging from the massive crowds of petitioners on the street... his solemn declaration did not have the desired effect.

On the contrary, they fueled the flames.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Fortunately, in such a large city, there are always some places for outsiders to stay. They found an inn and the four of them settled down temporarily.

Because they arrived in such a hurry and hadn't prepared any currency for this era, Nobita simply took out the satchel Arthur had given him and pulled out a few gold nuggets. Even two thousand years ago, gold still held its value, and these small gold nuggets were quite valuable. Nobita and his companions received excellent hospitality and were settled comfortably into a room. The waiter warmly served them tea, and after a quick sip, the four sat down together to gather information and discuss their next move.

“I will ask the spy robot to keep an eye on your parents’ information, but…” After hesitating for a while, Nobita decided to make things clear to him first, “I suggest that you don’t have too high hopes. Otherwise, it might be hard to accept in the end.”

Huang Amao naturally didn't know what he planned to do, but what he had seen and heard in Tongxin Village had made him regard Daxiong and his group as saviors of suffering.

Since even the gods have made a promise, it must be true. He alone would have to search for it for ages. The boy was immediately moved to tears, thanking them profusely. If Shizuka hadn't firmly refused, he would have knelt down and kowtowed to them.

"Speaking of which, it's unbelievable that something like this could happen..." Setting down her teacup, Shizuka glanced at the crowd outside the inn and exclaimed in amazement, "People from different classes and circumstances, without any prior arrangement, just spontaneously came to volunteer. Just how charismatic is that Wang Mang?"

"So many people agree with him, he must be a very, very good person."

"..."

Will it be so?

Are people who are recognized by the public necessarily good people?

Da Xiong was still unclear about the matter, but he always felt a chilling fear about this sage named Wang Mang.

"What a scary guy," Nobita muttered. "Even Kosuke, back in elementary school, was disliked by the classmate who got second place. That guy would call and harass him every night... Shizuka, do you remember that?"

Shizuka recalled the events in less than a second, then remembered something shocking. Her pretty face flushed red, and she said coquettishly, "Why did you have to bring up that sore subject?!" (The original work of this episode can be described as explosive; if you're interested, you can check it out. The original work is "Resolving the Dekisugi Case.")

"Well, what I mean is, even someone as outstanding as Xiaoshan has people who think he's not good enough. Does such a perfect person really exist in this world?"

Da Xiong's tone was somewhat heavy, "This is an era without telephones or televisions. Most of the people who pleaded for Wang Mang probably never even saw what he looked like in their entire lives. Was Wang Mang really that good? So good that even just hearsay could make so many people speak for him so wholeheartedly?"

"Does Nobita mean he wanted to usurp the throne from the very beginning?" Shizuka asked, puzzled. "But he also emphasized that he was a fake emperor, didn't he? It was only because so many people were willing to cheer for him and spread prophecies that things escalated..."

“Records show that Wang Mang previously established the Imperial Academy in Chang’an, set up academies, and displayed ritual objects and musical instruments, increasing the number of students admitted to the Imperial Academy to three thousand.” Asur said while flipping through the intelligence collected by the spy satellite, “In any era, it is a great thing for the central government to focus its efforts on basic education, which can win the praise of all social classes.”

"Ordinary people will be happy, at least they will see a little bit of upward mobility; intellectuals will be happy, because the emphasis on the cultural class means that their own status and identity will rise accordingly; officials and gentry will also be happy, because their children will have more jobs and opportunities to be placed in government positions. With just this one move, he can win the favor of all social classes. More importantly, the money for running the school is paid by the state, and it has nothing to do with him."

"In this era, most people were uneducated, so the power of public opinion was actually in the hands of intellectuals. What they wrote determined what the people thought. And all the students collectively received Wang Mang's olive branch. With them cheering for Wang Mang among the people, the final outcome was predictable."

"and……"

She closed the thick, fresh intelligence booklet. "Shizuka, do you really think that someone without any ambition would choose a reign title like 'Jusei'? The meaning of those two characters is basically the epitome of a powerful minister abusing his power. Being in a high position, he couldn't possibly not understand this."

"In fact, his food, clothing, housing, and transportation as the acting emperor were all exactly the same as those of the emperor."

“Aside from insisting that he doesn’t call himself emperor, he is now the de facto ruler of this country.”

Chapter 188: The Savage Era

To fit the character of "merchants who came to Chang'an to do business via trade routes," Da Xiong used the "Clothes Changing Camera" to change the group's outfits again.

Gaining access to the royal court under these circumstances might be difficult, so they decided to at least gather intelligence within Chang'an first. Intelligence gathered through spy satellites is ultimately limited; no matter how pervasive they are, they can't interact with people. Truly valuable information is often gleaned through communication with others.

Once on the street, the bustling crowd propelled them forward, never stopping for a moment. Da Xiong couldn't help but wonder where all these people were going. Following the flow of people, he stumbled forward until a grand mansion, surrounded by palace walls and considered luxurious for its time, stood prominently at the edge of his vision. Red tiles covered its roof, its imposing presence evident. The plaque above the main gate bore the neatly written characters "Wangfu" (Prince's Mansion), leaving no doubt about its location. People from all over the country had gathered here, like a view from a spy satellite, a dense, swarming mass of people, like ants surrounding a fallen piece of sweets.

"Wow, this is incredible!" Shizuka exclaimed upon seeing the actual scene. "It's like an idol concert!"

“His appeal to all levels of society is just the tip of the iceberg,” Asur exclaimed. “Judging from the situation in the court, after the death of the previous emperor, Wang Mang quickly consolidated all the power scattered among the imperial relatives. What we see here is merely a spontaneous propaganda campaign among the people, but his influence at the center of power… is the most terrifying thing.”

"At this rate, it's only a matter of time before he becomes emperor."

If a person gains the unconditional support of the entire social class, hoping he can replace the current leader, can his ascension to the throne be seen as a matter of course and a natural progression? Even if he has the ability to forcibly prevent the birth of a new dynasty, would doing so truly align with the course of history?

"Around this time, many 'auspicious omens' have been discovered in various places, flying into the palace like snowflakes." Asur shrugged. "Where are there so many auspicious omens? They are basically all man-made, part of Wang Mang's propaganda campaign. It's impossible to say there's no one behind it."

“But I never thought there would be a rebellion like this…” Looking at the crowded people around her, Shizuka exclaimed sincerely, “Everyone is gathered together to express their opinions, as if they are holding a large-scale social event. It’s hard to imagine that this could happen in a monarchical feudal autocracy. I thought that a usurpation would definitely end with assassination, bloodshed and war.”

“There are many reasons,” Asur said calmly, glancing around. “Although the royal family seems to be on the verge of collapse, in reality, the people are still able to make ends meet. The national treasury is full, the granaries are plentiful, and the government system is far from coming to a standstill. Compared to the end of other dynasties, the situation is much, much better.”

"This relatively calm environment gave him ample room to maneuver and engage in this kind of performance art. Think about it: if every household couldn't even afford to eat, thieves roamed the streets, and all sorts of exorbitant taxes were squeezing every last drop of blood from people, would so many people still flock from all directions to plead for him?"

"It's not that bad, yet it feels like the collapse of a dynasty at its end..." Da Xiong couldn't help but sigh, "It's really strange."

“It has been 200 years since the founding of the Han Dynasty,” Shizuka said, counting on her fingers. “Even by the standards of a feudal dynasty, that is a very long time.”

"Perhaps it's just that its cyclical pattern has come to an end."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"What did you say? The Songshan Inkstone is shattered?! You piece of trash!"

"Snapped!"

A resounding slap landed squarely on the face of the girl not far away. It was the dead of winter, yet she was only wearing a simple linen garment. Already unsteady on her feet, the slap made her even more unsteady, and she collapsed to the ground. Another man, more properly dressed, with a goatee, burly shoulders, and glaring eyes, chased after her without mercy and kicked her in the lower back.

"Woo..."

The girl couldn't help but cry out, but she didn't show any physical resistance. She just curled up and silently swallowed the pain.

"Do you think that's the kind of stuff you find in the market? This is Songshan ink! From refining the soot and mixing the ingredients to drying and gilding... every step is done by specialists. It's only one grade lower than the ink used by the imperial court! Do you know how much silver the master spent on this?!"

The man, growing increasingly enraged, raised his foot and stomped hard on the girl's right hand, which was already cracked from the cold. A crunching sound followed; the pain, so intense it was almost unbearable, finally became unbearable, and she let out a pitiful cry. But because she lacked strength, even her voice was hoarse and unpleasant, unlike the powerful, resonant voice of a tortured heroine in a TV drama.

"No...no..." the girl stammered, making a futile attempt at explanation, "It was a horse...a person riding a horse, who bumped into me..."

"Shut up! This piece of Songshan ink is worth more than ten of your worthless lives! Even if you were trampled to death by a horse, let alone being hit by it, you shouldn't have let go!" the man shouted angrily. "Now that the precious ink is broken, can you afford to suffer the consequences when the master blames you?"

"..." The girl remained silent.

The man slowly drew a short knife from his waist and said coldly, "Only by cutting off your hands and expelling you from the family can we have an explanation!"

He grabbed the girl by the collar, yanked her up from the ground, and slammed her against a roadside stone. The movement was so rough that the girl's head hit the edge of the stone, blood gushing from her scalp, staining most of her face red. Even so, no one in the crowd on the street said anything; they simply made way for them to handle this "family matter" amongst themselves.

"No...please, don't send me away..." Even though her forehead was covered in blood, the girl still pleaded in a weak voice, "I can do any dirty or hard work, I can do anything..."

“You can’t even be a good servant, yet you keep someone at home. Isn’t that a waste of food?” The man twisted the girl’s arm around his shoulder and raised his dagger. “I’ll take your arm back to the master to apologize. As for you, go back to where you came from!”

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"when!"

With a clang of metal on metal, the man felt a numbness in his wrist as the short knife flew out of his hand and into the distance.

……

"What are you doing...?"

In the instant he fired, a thought suddenly crossed Nobita's mind, and he felt a deep sadness. Even if Nobita's history was terrible, he knew very well that human history progressed from barbarism to civilization. Perhaps, in this era, what he was about to do was something perfectly normal in everyone's eyes. Just as stone tools came before iron tools, humanity also progressed from barbarism to civilization, everything proceeding step by step, just as Doraemon had told him.

If that's the case, why shoot?

Are we, with our modern moral values, truly more noble than those who lived two thousand years ago?

Chapter 189: The Outsider

"Ah... Nobita, you're such a... person..."

Asur sighed helplessly, her opinion written all over her face. Clearly, she didn't think Nobita had done anything particularly remarkable; quite the opposite.

“I must remind you that we live in a country where civilization is still very primitive. Even in the 22nd century, contracts similar to those for the sale of slaves still exist in some dark corners of the world, not to mention two thousand years ago. In a sense, everything that just happened here is reasonable. Slaves who do wrong, especially those who damage their master’s property, will be punished quite severely.”

"But...you don't have to cut off her arm, do you?" Shizuka couldn't help but mutter. "How will she live if you cut off her arm?"

“Shizuka, don’t you understand yet?” Asur had no choice but to continue explaining, “You’re worried about her fate after she loses her arm because you treat her as a ‘person’ like yourself. But in the eyes of most people here, that girl isn’t even a person. She’s no different from livestock kept at home, just the property of the lords.”

"How they dispose of their property is their own business."