Inside the Study Room.
Feng Yuan changed into a clean set of black clothes.
Across from him, Han Anmeng’s expression was complex.
If Zhou Wu was shocked by the transformation of Feng Yuan’s body, Han Anmeng was alarmed by the growth of his intellect.
Spread out on the table was a massive Military Map of the Great Wu Dynasty, covered in dense markings made with the Vermilion Brush and ink.
“In the early years, the Retired Emperor loved grand achievements and military glory. His three campaigns into Liaodong, while seemingly expanding territory, actually depleted the National Treasury and shook the morale of the Northern Border armies,” Han Anmeng’s finger tapped the northeast corner of the Military Map.
“Now that the New Emperor has Ascended the Throne, his foundation is unstable. Internally, he is constrained by the Retired Emperor’s Former Officials, and externally, he is surrounded by powerful enemies. Currently, we can neither pacify the interior nor repel the outsiders.”
Feng Yuan’s gaze, however, fell upon the northwest section of the Military Map.
“The battle against the Khitan Tribes in the northern desert years ago saw them crush ten thousand of our dynasty’s troops. Having tasted success, they repeatedly raid the Northern Border.”
“The Turkic peoples to the north are like jackals whose alliance is merely skin deep. Today they may ally with our dynasty, tomorrow they could stab us in the back.”
Feng Yuan looked up at Han Anmeng.
“Teacher, the Military Garrison Posts in the Northern Border are short on personnel, lacking funds and provisions, and morale is scattered. Sooner or later, a major battle is inevitable. And I fear it will be lost even more disastrously than the last time. We must not repeat the calamity of Jingkang.”
Han Anmeng fell silent.
He looked at the young man before him.
In just half a year, he was no longer the Student who needed his guidance and instruction.
From the information provided, he could see things deeper and further ahead.
The scholarly air about him was fading, replaced by the strategic aura of a commanding general, and a kind of indifference that treated human lives as mere weeds.
Han Anmeng suddenly felt a chill.
He did not know if his wholehearted teaching had cultivated a capable minister for governing the world, or if he had unleashed a vicious wolf.
“You… want to go north?” Han Anmeng asked tentatively.
Feng Yuan did not answer.
He merely extended his hand and lightly traced the long route on the Military Map that ran from Luoyang to the Northern Border.
His Ambition was clearly no longer focused on this small Jinling City.
The heavy atmosphere in the Study Room quietly shifted because of a single sentence from Feng Yuan.
“Teacher,” Feng Yuan’s voice broke the dead silence regarding the Northern Border military affairs, “test me on my Classics Exegesis.”
Han Anmeng looked up from the Military Map, a hint of astonishment in his eyes.
Han Anmeng composed himself, reached out, and pulled a copy of *Mencius* from the bookshelf; his knuckles, calloused from years of holding a brush, were distinctly prominent.
“‘The people are the most important element in a nation; the spirits of the land and grain are the next; the sovereign is the least important.’ How do you interpret this passage?” He casually quoted a line, intending to first probe Feng Yuan’s foundation.
This was essential reading for an initiating Confucian scholar, and he expected Feng Yuan to offer a standard explanation.
Feng Yuan did not even lift his eyelids, his voice as straight as a taut lute string.
“The will of the people is like water; water can carry a boat, but it can also capsize it. The state is the boat, and the sovereign is the helmsman. If the boat is destroyed, the people perish; this is the natural order.”
Han Anmeng’s motion of stroking his beard paused.
This explanation stripped away all the veneer of benevolence and morality, leaving only naked self-interest.
Without showing emotion, he continued his questioning: “*Great Learning* states, ‘Those in antiquity who wished to illustrate illustrious virtue throughout the world first ordered well their own states.’ What does governing a state entail?”
“Secure the foundation of the people, strengthen the military, refine the tools, and ensure sufficient food supplies.” Feng Yuan’s answer was almost instantaneous, requiring no thought. “The foundation of a nation lies in its people and its soldiers. If the people are prosperous, the nation is secure; if the military is strong, the nation’s prestige is high. Everything else is secondary.”
Han Anmeng’s breath hitched slightly.
He had asked about the Confucian principles of self-cultivation, managing the family, governing the state, and bringing peace to the world; Feng Yuan was answering with the ruthless techniques of Legalism for enriching the state and strengthening the military.
Every word was precise, yet every word carried a chill.
Han Anmeng silently closed the book, the pages meeting with a soft sound.
He looked at the young man before him. On that still youthful face, there was none of the deference or thirst for knowledge expected of a youth, only a profound, bottomless calm.
“No need for further testing,” Han Anmeng’s voice was somewhat dry.
He slowly returned the book to its place, his fingertip touching the cool spine.
“For the upcoming County Examination,” Han Anmeng spoke word by word, as if confirming a fact he could barely believe himself, “you may participate.”