Changchun Garden.
The Emperor squinted at the young man standing before him with his head bowed, feeling that the boy's humility was somewhat insincere. He couldn't quite pinpoint what was wrong, so the Emperor was slightly displeased. Perhaps he had been sitting cross-legged on the kang (heated brick bed) for too long, his legs felt sore and numb, so he got up and stretched.
"One hundred and four people died in the Ministry of War, including even some seventh and eighth-rank experts. Do you know how many enemies these people could have killed if they had been used on the battlefield?"
He slowly walked around a few times to restore blood flow to his legs.
"Regardless of the cause of this case, I cannot turn a blind eye. Even if you are the disciple of Prince Zhong, although I care about him, even if he has violated the laws of the country, I will not show favoritism. The Great Sui is my Great Sui, the rules are mine, and I cannot break them."
"Atone for your crimes with meritorious service."
Fang Jie suddenly uttered four words softly.
The Emperor was taken aback, then snorted, "You have quite the audacity! Tell me, what makes you think you can atone for your crimes, what abilities do you possess, and where will you seek such merit?"
Fang Jie took something from his robes and presented it with both hands: "This was originally prepared by this humble subject for the literary examination at the Martial Arts Academy. Now I offer it to Your Majesty. Although it's not of great use, it might be of some help to the students of the Great Sui Dynasty, especially those newly enrolled in village and county schools."
Su Buwei quickly stepped forward, took the item from Fang Jie, bowed, and presented it to the Emperor with both hands.
Emperor Yang Yi took it, glanced at it casually, and then his eyes lit up.
He returned to the earthen bed, took off his boots, sat down, and began to read intently. What Fang Jie had handed him was a book, clearly bound by thread himself. It wasn't thick, appearing to be only four or five pages. But the Emperor read it very carefully, although undeniably, he didn't understand most of it.
"What is this?"
The Emperor looked up and asked Fang Jie, "I can guess its purpose, but perhaps only you understand the meaning of these symbols you drew."
"This humble subject calls this Pinyin."
Fang Jie explained, "It's about marking the pronunciation of every character. With this, students in village and county schools won't need to memorize characters by rote. As long as Pinyin is added to each character when the books are printed, students only need to remember the pronunciation, and even without a teacher's guidance, they'll know how to read the characters."
As he said this, Fang Jie himself felt it was somewhat melodramatic.
Back in Fan Gu, he racked his brains trying to figure out how to pass the martial arts academy's exams. After much thought, he finally realized that two things were still relatively new in the Sui Dynasty. One of them was Pinyin. In the Sui Dynasty, students learned to read and write by being taught character by character by teachers in village, county, or private schools—a very inefficient method. What pleased Fang Jie most was that the Sui Dynasty in this world also used Chinese characters, which essentially provided fertile ground for the development of pinyin.
"Good."
The emperor couldn't help but praise it, beckoning him over and saying, "Come here and tell me how to use these symbols. If this can truly be implemented, it will be a great benefit to the people."
Fang Jie glanced at the eunuch, his eyes asking. Su Buwei smiled and nodded, and Fang Jie then went to stand beside the emperor, pointing to what he had written and explaining it one by one. The emperor listened, nodding slightly, occasionally writing a character and asking Fang Jie how to annotate it.
It must be said that the emperor was an admirably intelligent person.
In just over ten minutes, the emperor had memorized the pronunciation and writing of almost all the syllables.
"When I attend court later, I'll have the Grand Secretaries assess whether this method is feasible. If it is, it will be a considerable achievement."
The Emperor stretched again, his tone generous with praise. His earlier displeasure at Fang Jie's seemingly insincere humility had vanished. His stretch was quite large, and Fang Jie could even faintly hear the soft cracking of his cervical and spinal joints.
"Your Majesty, prolonged sitting is harmful to your health. You should move around more."
He stepped back a few paces and bowed his head, saying, "When I was idle in Fan Gu, I devised a few simple exercises to improve blood circulation. They're not exactly martial arts, but they should be considered medical. Doing these exercises a few times a day will, over time, benefit blood flow."
"You do it once, and I'll see."
The Emperor leaned back, feeling a sore and tightness in his neck. In the past, when he felt uncomfortable from sitting for too long, he would have Consort Cen come and massage him. This Consort Cen didn't come from a particularly good background. Although she was pretty, she wasn't exceptionally outstanding among the many beauties in the harem. It was only through her meticulously learned massage techniques that she managed to keep the Emperor thinking of her from time to time. You have to understand how much envy one must have for someone among so many concubines to be remembered by the Emperor. And how many women, from entering the palace until their death, might never receive even a single favor from the Emperor?
Fang Jie responded and then earnestly performed a set of the eighth set of broadcast gymnastics.
As he did so, Fang Jie smiled bitterly to himself. He hadn't used his professional knowledge to make money and rise to prominence in this world; instead, he was relying on the basics he learned in elementary school to maintain appearances. It was somewhat laughable.
"Su Buwei, what do you think?"
The Emperor asked.
Su Buwei looked at Fang Jie, remained silent for a moment, and said, "These movements are all very simple, yet they can activate the whole body, and they do indeed promote blood circulation. However, I think a small part of the movements can be improved for better results."
"Interesting."
The Emperor's lips curled up, and he pointed at Fang Jie, asking, "What other skills do you have? I know you can't cultivate, but to be valued by someone as discerning as Prince Zhong, you must have more than just these skills. If you can demonstrate another skill that impresses me, I'll postpone the matter of dealing with the Ministry of War."
"This sinful subject..."
Fang Jie sighed inwardly, thinking that it seemed none of the things he had prepared for the Martial Arts Academy were going to be saved.
"This sinful subject has some immature insights into mathematics."
"Speak!"
...
...
Fang Jie felt like a very low-level liar, having fooled the great Sui Emperor with pinyin, a basic course he had learned in kindergarten in his previous life. Then, he fooled the Emperor a second time with another basic first-grade mathematics course. These two incidents filled Fang Jie, a transmigrator, with a sense of helplessness and slight inferiority, but not a trace of pride or smugness.
The helplessness and inferiority stemmed from his feeling that he was truly not a qualified transmigrator.
He lacked a high level of education and was not a professional in any particular field. In Fan Gu, he relied on some business acumen accumulated in his previous life, at least utilizing his intelligence. But in the capital, he was increasingly inadequate, relying on kindergarten and elementary school knowledge.
Fortunately, however, both incidents were quite effective.
At least, the emperor didn't intend to kill him now.
His explanation of mathematics to the emperor was simply a reiteration of the advantages of Arabic numerals in calculation, followed by a basic introduction to elementary arithmetic. While the Sui Dynasty's mathematics had reached a considerable level, using uppercase numbers for calculations was inevitably cumbersome.
Therefore, the emperor was very interested in Fang Jie's explanation.
So he decided to keep Fang Jie at Changchun Garden for another day, to thoroughly exploit this young man favored by his seventh brother. For some purpose, Luo Weiran, Hou Wenji, and Mr. Zhuo of the Imperial Guards conspired to fabricate a lie, turning Fang Jie, a young man who had only met the man in blue once, into the man's disciple.
Of course, only Fang Jie himself knew the truth. They might have genuinely believed that the man in blue—the renowned and legendary Prince Zhong, Yang Qi—had truly taken Fang Jie as his last and only disciple. Fang Jie still couldn't comprehend the level of Prince Zhong, Yang Qi, nor did he know just how exceptionally talented this man was. He only vaguely sensed that the Emperor's regard for Prince Zhong, Yang Qi, was unparalleled.
What Yang Qi did after leaving Chang'an, Fang Jie didn't know, but he was certain the Emperor knew. Moreover, this matter, coupled with Yang Qi's previous withdrawal from court, left the Emperor with a deep sense of guilt towards Yang Qi. And it was precisely because of this guilt that Fang Jie was extremely fortunate to have temporarily escaped disaster.
How much affection did the Emperor truly harbor for this younger brother? Prince Yi, Yang Yin, was barred from court for ten years, which speaks volumes.
Even when Hongxiuzhao returned to Chang'an, the Emperor made a special trip to advise Prince Yi, speaking in front of several high-ranking officials. His intentions were far more complex than simply advising Prince Yi. If it weren't for the Emperor's words at the martial arts arena, how could so many high-ranking officials have flocked to Hongxiuzhao's opening? Prince Zhong was gone; eleven years was enough time for people to become indifferent to many things. Without Prince Zhong, why would Hongxiuzhao still attract so many important figures to offer their congratulations?
Those important figures flocked to Hongxiuzhao because of the rumors spread by the Emperor.
The Emperor's words were meant to be disseminated through the mouths of his officials.
In truth, few in the entire court saw clearly that, although the Emperor hadn't made any overt moves, he had been subtly protecting everyone and everything related to Prince Zhong, Yang Qi, over the years.
So, in the room temporarily belonging to him in Changchun Garden, Fang Jie deduced many things.
He was lucky. Back in Fan Gu, he never imagined that Hongxiuzhao would be owned by Prince Zhong, Yang Qi, nor that the man in blue was actually Yang Qi, let alone that he would rely on this legendary figure to survive after arriving in the capital.
This past alone was somewhat legendary.
What Fang Jie didn't know or anticipate was that Prince Zhong, Yang Qi's influence on him went far beyond that…
Leaning back on the bed, Fang Jie carefully considered the things he needed to prepare. Then he borrowed paper and pen from a eunuch outside and wrote down the most basic arithmetic in detail, taking two full hours to finish. Looking at the rather thick stack of paper, Fang Jie felt a real sense of accomplishment.
Not long after he finished writing, a eunuch knocked on the door and said, "Mr. Fang, His Majesty summons you."
Mr. Fang?
Fang Jie murmured, repeating it, then smiled. He pulled a hundred-tael silver note from his sleeve and, as he left, slipped it to the young eunuch, saying, "Thank you for the paper and pen, and thank you for calling me Mr. Fang."
The young eunuch was startled, glancing down at the note and his hand trembled slightly. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes fixed on the words "hundred taels." Finally, after checking that no one was around, he quickly slipped the note into his sleeve.
Fang Jie couldn't help but feel a pang of emotion. One hundred taels of silver could evoke gratitude in a mere eunuch. Five hundred taels wouldn't even earn a glance from Su Buwei—that was the difference in status.
He confidently entered the Imperial Study, carrying what he had spent two hours writing. But the moment he stepped inside, he was stunned… Inside sat six or seven elderly ministers, their hair completely white. The one closest to the emperor even had a white beard.
A room full of Grand Secretaries—it was truly frightening.
...
...
Until dusk, Fang Jie patiently answered the questions of the Grand Scholars. He also frequently worked out calculations on paper with a charcoal pencil. He hadn't drunk a drop of water or sat down to rest for such a long time, and his throat felt like it was on fire, and his legs were aching. Fortunately, he didn't show any weakness and basically managed to keep the Grand Scholars, whose combined age was roughly five hundred years old, completely at ease.
"If this young man can enter the Imperial Academy, I guarantee that in two or three years, the Academy will have one more Grand Scholar—the youngest Grand Scholar in the hundred-year history of the Sui Dynasty! Unprecedented, and perhaps never to be repeated!"
An elderly minister with a wrinkled face bowed to the Emperor and said, "Your Majesty, please grant Fang Jie permission to enter the Imperial Academy. This old minister has many mathematical matters that I need to verify and deduce with Fang Jie; I humbly request Your Majesty's assistance."
"The Wenyuan Pavilion plans to compile the pinyin into a book and distribute it to county and township schools… Your Majesty, Fang Jie should first work at the Wenyuan Pavilion."
Grand Scholar Niu Huilun of the Wenyuan Pavilion bowed and said.
"Stop."
The Emperor smiled and waved his hand, saying, "His ambition lies in military affairs; he'll be taking the martial arts academy's assessment in a few days."
"Ah?"
Grand Secretary Song Zhuangzhen, Professor of the Imperial Academy, said regretfully, "What a waste of talent..."
Grand Secretary Niu Huilun of the Wenyuan Pavilion sighed, "A pearl hidden in dust..."
"If Dean Zhou hears you saying this, be careful he doesn't beat you with his shoe!"
Minister of Rites Huai Qiugong said with a smile. The Emperor laughed, "After all, he comes from a military background; it's perfectly reasonable for him to enter the Martial Arts Academy. If he fails the exam, you can take him away then."
Grand Secretary Song Zhuangzhen hurriedly grabbed Fang Jie's hand, saying, "Don't you dare get in!"
"Submit a blank paper!"
Grand Secretary Niu Huilun directly instructed Fang Jie, "Besides martial arts, you must submit blank papers for all other subjects!"
"Why don't you pretend to be sick?"
An old man tempted him, "I have hundreds of rare books in my home!"
Hundreds of books weren't very tempting for Fang Jie; their power was far less than hundreds of taels of silver, so he politely declined them all. Looking at the eager gazes of these Grand Secretaries, he could only sigh inwardly… What a group of upright old men…
"Mingxu, you just said you have hundreds of rare books in your collection?"
The Emperor was intrigued by this remark, pointing to the Grand Secretary who had spoken earlier, "Bring them over for me to see tomorrow. Don't worry, I won't keep them. I'll return them to you after I've read them."
The Minister of Rites, Huai Qiugong, couldn't help but laugh, finding the amusing expression on Mingxu's face particularly delightful. Return them? When has His Majesty ever returned books he borrowed? His Majesty's borrowed books are never returned.
"Wealth should not be flaunted."
The Emperor said with a smile, then opened a book on his desk, crossed out one of the names with vermilion ink, turned the page, and rewrote the name.
Fang Jie glanced at it and saw the words "Record of Talented Men" written on the book.
He didn't know what this "Record of Talented Men" was, nor did he understand why the name had been moved to the previous page.
Huai Qiugong, who was closest to the emperor, not only knew what the Record of Talented Men was, but also what it meant to move a name up one page. So he glanced at Fang Jie thoughtfully.