Nobita's Time Heist

As a close attendant of Wang Mang, Da Xiong was also invited. It is worth mentioning that Huang Amao was also able to participate this time.

Having navigated the treacherous waters of officialdom for over thirty years, Wang Mang's eye for talent had been honed to perfection, allowing him to instantly discern that this young man was merely an ordinary commoner. Even so, perhaps to curry favor with Da Xiong, he still included him in the conversation.

The country boy, who had once made a living in the mountains, had never had the chance to attend the emperor's banquet. He was so excited that he could hardly walk and even practiced etiquette with extra care. When the moment actually arrived, he was so frozen that he seemed to be petrified, which made him look somewhat comical.

Of course, no one even glanced at him; compared to the main character of the banquet, he was nothing more than an insignificant nobody.

The emperor himself is the center of everything.

This banquet was primarily hosted by the emperor himself to entertain his aunt, with officials also invited to attend. It was essentially a "private banquet," and therefore lacked strict rules. After the emperor delivered his important speech, he was free to chat casually with those seated nearby.

Amidst the clinking of glasses and the lively atmosphere, Da Xiong felt as if he had stumbled into a massive masquerade ball—everyone wore a heavy mask, under which they exchanged crucial information. The pie of power was finite; the emperor ate the vast majority, leaving the rest for the ministers to divide. Hundreds, even thousands, of eyes were constantly watching each and every one of them. The closer one was to the center of power, the more necessary this became.

Of course, in Da Xiong's eyes, these people were equally unimportant... His gaze remained fixed on Wang Mang himself.

The emperor's robes were far too heavy, their imaginative significance far outweighing their practical value. They weighed heavily on the old man, making him appear both more imposing and frail. Alone on his high seat, he avoided eye contact with anyone, listlessly poking at the food on his plate with his chopsticks. In this setting, the man wielding the greatest power seemed bound to his position, like a magnificently dressed puppet.

"I still have to figure out how to get along with my aunt. It's such a hassle." Asur, sitting next to me, lowered his voice and complained, "Actually, wouldn't it be better to just leave it alone? The power has already been handed over. Now, the old lady really only has a symbolic meaning to him."

“Women…once they get serious about something, they never look back.” Looking at the royal feast spread across the table, she picked up her chopsticks, scooped up some tofu, and said with conviction, “These two will never reconcile before she dies, absolutely not.”

"Asur-chan, you speak with a strange maturity about you, even though you don't look that old." Shizuka turned her head and glanced at the Emperor, who was frowning, and sighed, "But knowing all this, he still held a banquet for the Empress Dowager. At least it shows that in the Emperor's heart, family still holds a little place, right?"

"Even the emperor of a country would make such an expression in order to reconcile with his aunt..."

“No, it’s not entirely because of that.” Nobita’s tone was very firm. “Although that’s part of it, his troubles have other sources.”

At that moment, Wang Mang learned something from the messenger eunuch, and his expression changed rapidly—his eyebrows furrowed deeply, making his already domineering face appear even more uneasy and helpless. Regardless, he was the first to rise from his seat, deliberately making a jarring sound as his body bumped against the table and chairs. The emperor was the example for everyone; when he made his move, the noise in the room immediately ceased, and everyone followed suit, making the previously lively banquet atmosphere seem like a deliberate performance.

Seeing this, Nobita had no choice but to swallow back what he was about to say. Anyway, he would have to eat all night, so he could say it later.

In fact, the bills concerning the well-field system and the abolition of slavery encountered unimaginable resistance during their implementation.

Although Wang Mang never discussed these issues with Da Xiong, and whenever asked, he always appeared confident, as if saying, "We'll win!", Da Xiong still gleaned some clues from the civilian reports collected by the spy robot. This genuine intelligence was likely the real reason for Wang Mang's displeasure.

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.

Approaching eighty years old, an extremely advanced age in ancient times, Empress Wang Zhengjun still insisted on making a public appearance, dressed in her finest attire, to attend a banquet hosted by her nephew. This was the price of being a member of the imperial family; whether you were eighty or a hundred, as long as you were still alive, you were expected to be treated with the same arrogance. Because you represented the authority of the imperial family and enjoyed the privilege of draining the resources of the entire nation, you were naturally expected to live a life of privilege.

Empress Wang Zhengjun, a veteran of four reigns, though her steps were somewhat slow, were firm and steady, her presence undiminished. Her nephew's usurpation had dealt her a heavy blow, yet even so, her reappearance in public still befitted the title of Empress. Her black robe, like a proudly blooming flower, stood out starkly among the yellow attire of the ministers, like a rare plum blossom braving the cold wind.

"Black?" Shizuka's eyes narrowed slightly. "That's not..."

“It’s the officials from the previous dynasty who are wearing sable coats.” Asur had expected this, and shrugged, saying in a low voice, “See, I told you so? The emperor had already changed the Han dynasty’s system. On this occasion, they should be wearing yellow sable coats, but she insisted on going against Wang Mang.”

"I don't think we'll be able to finish this meal~~~"

Clearly, she wasn't the only one who noticed this detail. Anyone who could appear on the stage of the power game was a shrewd individual, and they naturally realized the Empress Dowager's deliberate provocation. Making such a move meant breaking ties with the reigning emperor—she didn't recognize the Xin dynasty founded by Wang Mang. Even in death, she would die as a former woman of the Han dynasty.

Knowing that no one would respond, her persistence earned Da Xiong's secret admiration, while at the same time, he was also worried for her.

After spending these past few days together, if he had gained any understanding of the special position of emperor, it would be this: once one becomes emperor, one is no longer a person, but the symbol of absolute authority over this land. Past relatives, friends, and all interpersonal relationships would cease to matter. If Wang Mang were an extremely cold-blooded emperor, this single transgression would have been enough to sentence his aunt to the most severe death penalty.

In fact, a shadow did indeed flash across Wang Mang's eyes; he was not one to be indecisive in his actions.

His high eyebrows furrowed even more, then he pondered for a moment before suddenly relaxing them.

He bowed deeply to his aunt, his eyes lowered, filled with the reverence of a junior for an elder. Just as he had done long ago when he had returned to Chang'an with the help of public opinion.

but……

The Duke of Zhou feared rumors, and Wang Mang was humble before his usurpation.

An artistic performance that has already revealed its true nature, no matter how realistic, can no longer make Wang Zhengjun appreciate it as she did at the beginning.

……

"Your Majesty," she said with unusual formality, her tone sarcastic, "This old woman is old and her legs are truly inconvenient..."

"Did I keep you waiting?"

Chapter 206: Heaven Does Not Protect You!

Even amidst the tense atmosphere, the dignity and decorum of the royal family had to be upheld—a point both seasoned veterans of the power struggles understood perfectly well. After exchanging pleasantries, they took their seats, and the banquet officially began. Amidst the clinking of glasses, most of the wine was consumed, while the exquisite dishes remained untouched.

Da Xiong observed that the main character of this banquet, Old Mrs. Wang, hadn't touched a single bite. She simply sat there with a half-smile on her face, staring straight ahead.

Perhaps she was simply too old to chew most of the food on the table; as people age, even the finest delicacies are beyond their reach. Her presence here was purely as a symbol, a representation of the harmony and prosperity within the highest authority of the country.

However, to express her strong opposition to her nephew, she deliberately wore all black, thus thwarting Wang Mang's original intention of inviting her to a banquet. One side took the initiative to mend fences, while the other desperately undermined them. The people below weren't fools; they could naturally see the discord between the aunt and nephew, and the internal rift within the imperial power was perhaps even greater than it appeared on the surface.

A country acquired through usurpation seems to have a more unstable foundation than one might imagine.

"Is my palate too picky?" Shizuka picked up her chopsticks, tasted a bit of the dish in front of her, and couldn't help but frown, revealing a "not so good" smile. "It just feels... like it doesn't have much flavor..."

“That’s normal. In your time, almost all the food you ate after you were born had seasonings, right?” Asur was used to it and explained, “It’s still 9 AD. Most seasonings haven’t been invented yet. These ingredients are indeed very good, but due to the limitations of the era, the processing methods certainly wouldn’t be like those of modern times.”

"However, for people in ancient times, it was quite a feast."

As she spoke, her gaze fell on Huang Amao, who was sitting to the side.

He seemed to have forgotten about maintaining his composure, holding his chopsticks with a less-than-perfect posture, eating with gusto, his mouth greasy and his eyes shining, like a starving ghost reincarnated, as if he were taking revenge on the daily hunger that had plagued him for the past ten years by eating it all up in one go. In fact, no one cared about his eating manners at all—without knowing his background, even a slightly aggressive eating style would be interpreted as "having personality."

……

A somewhat sinister gaze came from the side, causing Da Xiong to shiver inexplicably.

Turning around, they saw a tall, thin man in a yellow robe and crown standing in a corner of the banquet. His unconventional attire was clearly out of place with the extravagance and high society characteristic of royal banquets. The officials naturally noticed him, but no one questioned it. Faced with this unusual situation, everyone adopted the same attitude: better to avoid trouble.

"Such deep eye bags... Doesn't this guy sleep at night?"

To be honest, this was the first thought that popped into Da Xiong's head as if he couldn't control himself after seeing the yellow-robed Taoist.

Before he could even get a good look at the strange fellow who was staring intently at him, a loud "bang" came from not far away, completely interrupting the atmosphere of the banquet.

The old lady no longer had the strength to rise and smash the glass; her anger only drove her to stand up and violently knock the wine glass in front of her to the ground. It seemed that along with it fell the royal authority that should have been supreme.

Unlike the composed and steady old woman I had in mind, anger filled every wrinkle on this woman's face, and her small body trembled slightly beneath her large black coat. As people age, their eyes become less able to open, but at this moment she still tried her best to widen her eyes, as if she were using her gaze to poke dozens of holes in this newly crowned emperor.

Wang Mang remained seated, watching her coldly, his gaze devoid of any emotion, showing no intention whatsoever of responding to her anger. It was as if he were gazing at a tree, a stone.

Like a low-pressure system impending a storm, the scene fell silent, as if a silencer had cast a spell from afar.

In a secluded corner unnoticed by anyone, the yellow-robed sorcerer quietly disappeared into the crowd.

"You demolished the Yuan Emperor Temple?" Wang Zhengjun practically spat out the words through her remaining teeth, glaring at her nephew. "Who? Who told you to demolish it?!"

“The Han Dynasty is gone, Aunt, you are no longer the ‘Grand Empress Dowager’ of the Han Dynasty.” Wang Mang did not rise with him, but chose to remain seated in the hall, responding in as indifferent a tone as possible, “The state has its own system of government. You are now the ‘Grand Empress Dowager Wenmu of the Xin Dynasty,’ and you are no longer allowed to serve Emperor Yuan!”

"Since you are no longer serving, there is no need for the Yuan Emperor Temple to exist. I have ordered it to be renovated into the 'Wenmu Tuo Dining Hall'. While you are still alive, it is inconvenient to call it a temple, so it will be renamed the 'Longevity Palace'. On your 80th birthday, I will definitely invite you to celebrate and hold a banquet there."

……

Shizuka quickly realized what was happening, and was quite surprised. She covered her mouth and gasped.

"My God, isn't Emperor Yuan...?"

"Who is it?" Da Xiong had never been good at remembering the complicated names of historical figures. Seeing the old lady suddenly become hostile, he guessed that it must be a key character, but he was still completely clueless. With his disastrous memory, if he didn't have a prop to protect him, he would probably be dead within the first ten minutes of a palace intrigue drama.

As if completely unconcerned about the situation, Asur casually explained, "Emperor Yuan is a posthumous title, referring to an emperor named Liu Shi (pronounced with a fourth tone). A long time ago, the old lady was his empress."

"Eh?"

Da Xiong then realized what was going on, and his understanding of the argument was completely different. His inner stance had shifted from Wang Mang to Wang Zhengjun.

He couldn't imagine what it would feel like if he died one day and Shizuka wasn't even allowed to mourn him.

(In fact, this royal couple was not as loving as Wang Zhengjun, which is the reality of most royal marriages. Wang Zhengjun largely proved the saying "a mother's status rises with her son," securing her position in the harem only through the birth of the crown prince.)

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.

"Hahaha!" Wang Zhengjun laughed angrily, and asked coldly, "Do you think I would be happy to have such a title pinned on my head?"

"..."

Wang Mang remained silent, simply staring intently at her, as if to say with his expression that her thoughts were utterly irrelevant; she was merely a symbol representing the imperial family. Unfortunately, this symbol, who should have been high above them all, had no intention of allowing himself to be manipulated at will.

She cried and said, “This is the ancestral temple of the Han dynasty, where gods reside. What crime have you committed to destroy it! Even if the gods are ignorant, what is the point of building and destroying a temple? If they are aware, how can I, who was originally a concubine, disgrace the temple of the late emperor and use it as my place of worship?!”

The simple dialectical materialism left Wang Mang speechless. His actions were, of course, politically motivated. Beneath the surface of the court, many harbored hopes for the restoration of the Han dynasty. As the founder of the new dynasty, he had to do something to dampen these ambitions.

However, he never expected that his own blood relatives would be the first to betray him.

Wang Zhengjun gritted her few remaining teeth, turned her head, stared at him, and said without any politeness, "How can you expect to receive Heaven's blessing for long when you act so disrespectfully towards the gods!"

Chapter 207: The broadsword slashes down on the heads of the powerful clans

Having reached this point, it seemed there was no other choice but to part on bad terms. Wang Zhengjun's attendants finally felt a temporary sense of relief—the emperor was this old lady's nephew, and they had no blood relation whatsoever. In this situation, even if he couldn't easily harm his own aunt to maintain his image, wouldn't killing a few servants to vent his anger be a piece of cake?

The old woman herself didn't think much of it at the time; perhaps her legs were simply too weak to support her, and she didn't want to see her nephew's face. Supported by those around her, she left the banquet table specially set up for her. She seemed determined to use her remaining life to die for the Han Dynasty.

The protagonist patted his behind and left, leaving behind a tense atmosphere that even a god couldn't salvage, making the originally delicious food unpalatable.

All the ministers huddled together in a tight-knit mass, having reached this stage, they were naturally well aware of the situation: the emperor was the most powerful person in the land, and serving a ruler had always been like walking on thin ice. It wasn't hard to understand why, if he was in a bad mood, he might kill a couple of people to vent his anger. Especially for founding emperors like Wang Mang, tolerance for offenders was practically zero!

If things go wrong, it could mean losing your head.

……

"Alas... all my painstaking efforts have gone unrecognized..."

However, Wang Mang decided to maintain his image as a benevolent figure, making things difficult for no one. He listlessly reclined in his chair and waved his hand. The ministers, as if granted a pardon, filed out amidst shouts of "Your Majesty, I take my leave!" and disappeared into the night.

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.

Under the dense darkness, the only glimmer of light would naturally stand out.

Pushing open the wooden door again, Da Xiong saw a somewhat disheveled Wang Mang—although still dressed casually, his clothes were no longer as neat as before, and his beard and hair were messy. The books in the room were scattered and overturned, as if a bear had broken into this orderly little house.

The most alarming thing was that the yellow-robed Taoist priest who had given him a strange look during the banquet also appeared in the wooden house. When Da Xiong entered, the priest was kneeling on the ground, bowing deeply to Wang Mang. Then, as if intentionally avoiding Da Xiong's gaze, he turned to the side and left with graceful little steps, leaving only the faint whistling of the wind, which sent chills down one's spine.

……

"I thought you weren't coming today."

Wang Mang sighed dejectedly, picked up the cup, and a rich fruity aroma wafted from it. Clearly, he wasn't drinking tea tonight, but rather the fine wine displayed in the room. Perhaps he was already slightly tipsy, or perhaps he still had a grudge to swallow, because his movements were very exaggerated. He poured most of the full cup of wine onto his beard.

However, this waste of time, where he didn't care what anyone thought, gave him immense pleasure. He simply stopped drinking and instead picked up his glass and threw it violently to the ground.

Realizing that Da Xiong's attention was still on the departing Taoist in yellow robes, he said, "He is a Taoist priest from the common people, just like you. Interestingly, he was unwilling to reveal his name, and I still don't know what his name is."

"However, thanks to him, I've come to understand some things..."

His gaze gradually turned cold, and Da Xiong suddenly realized that this emperor was even more astute than he had thought. He had already discerned that the real enemy was not within the palace, and the trouble his aunt had caused was nothing more than a minor disturbance in the face of such a vast country.

"The implementation of the well-field system and the abolition of slavery did not go smoothly at all."

"Today... since you're here too, I might as well be frank. I have my own selfish motives behind these two decrees."

Perhaps emboldened by the alcohol, or perhaps seeing in Da Xiong a quality he cherished, Wang Mang, having shed his imperial robes, no longer concealed his true feelings and spoke to him for the first time, "Da Xiong, do you remember how I came to be king?"

"Huh?" Da Xiong scratched his head, racking his brains for a somewhat acceptable word. "According to you, this kind of transition should be called... abdication?"

"The Han dynasty replaced the Qin dynasty after a war that nearly tore the Central Plains to pieces. The King of Han and the King of Chu vied for supremacy, and the entire world became their chessboard. Countless lives were burned to ashes in the flames of war... In the end, people will only remember that the King of Han won the world. Who will care about those who were caught up in the chaos?"

Wang Mang squinted, his eyes sharp and fierce, a stark contrast to his usual mild-mannered and easygoing demeanor, like those of a wild beast.

"The Han dynasty has lasted for two hundred years, yet I have overthrown it in one fell swoop. Soon, people will realize that anyone can usurp the throne if the time is right. While I am alive, nothing will happen, but... what about after I die? Fifty years, a hundred years, two hundred years later, will another Wang Mang emerge and usurp my Xin dynasty?"

Da Xiong was taken aback at first, surprised by the other person's far-sighted thinking. He then realized that a qualified leader would definitely think about the future of the team after he was gone.

Then, as if by magic, he understood what the other person meant and showed a look of surprise.

For a magician, the greatest prize is the look of amazement on the audience's face when they are stunned by the magic trick. Wang Mang, at this moment, seemed to have the same experience. He was quite pleased with Da Xiong's expression and continued to explain, "The future Wang Mang is hiding in the place I once lived..."

"Among the powerful and wealthy families."

He didn't need to explain the rest clearly; Nobita could deduce it himself.

In an era when productivity was underdeveloped and social wealth had few forms of expression, the reason why wealthy families could be called wealthy families was precisely because they owned land and people. As long as they monopolized these two things, everything else would naturally grow from the land. They would take away the very land that ordinary people had to stand on, and then force them to sell themselves into slavery. The children of slaves would naturally be slaves from birth, and this exploitation would continue generation after generation, firmly consolidating their wealth and status.

Having seen through the trickery, Wang Mang swung his sword at the two thighs of the powerful clans.

"By implementing the well-field system, the land monopolized by powerful clans can be returned to the state and then distributed to farmers according to the number of males in each household!"

"Abolishing slavery will eliminate the population advantage of powerful clans and allow enslaved people to regain their freedom!"

(In 9 AD, Wang Mang issued an edict stating: "The land under heaven shall now be renamed Wang Tian (royal land), and slaves and servants shall be renamed Si Shu (private property). Neither shall be allowed to be sold. If a man has less than eight sons and owns more than one well (a unit of land measurement), the remaining land shall be distributed among his nine clans and fellow villagers.")

This imperial edict is one of the reasons why Wang Haoren is jokingly called a time traveler; it seems strangely familiar no matter how you look at it. However, setting aside these coincidental coincidences, it's not hard to see that his initial goal was actually to weaken the power of the powerful clans by cutting off their resources. Without land and population, even the largest families can only decline. In the entire world, it would be enough if only his Wang family remained as a powerful clan.

With these powerful clans weakened, the lives of ordinary people were relatively better... At least, in this selfish motive, he was genuinely considering the common people's welfare. Even if the people of the world didn't sing his praises, they would surely be grateful for his great kindness, wouldn't they?

However, not long afterward, reality gave him a devastating slap in the face.

Chapter 208: I will uproot the memories of the old Han Dynasty!

Whether the "well-field system" actually existed in ancient times remains an open question. Some scholars believe it may have been merely a system of fantasy, similar to a utopian legend, or perhaps it existed briefly in history but was quickly replaced by other systems due to the development of productive forces.