Love Lock

Chapter 315 This humble one... only offers advice
"Your Excellency, please take a look at this item and tell me what you think?" Han Lei asked respectfully.

Grand Secretary Zhang subconsciously took it. The texture of the paper was tough and smooth, completely different from the Xuan paper he usually used. On the cover were two square characters with a peculiar structure. After careful examination, he realized that they seemed to be some kind of abbreviation of the word "dictionary".

He opened the book with a sense of doubt, reading page by page, his shock growing stronger with each page.

The pages were densely packed yet neatly arranged. Next to each unfamiliar, concisely written character was a familiar traditional Chinese character. The layout was clear, the indexing orderly—it was a writing system unlike anything he had ever seen before!
“This…this is…” His fingers trembled as he stroked the square, simplified Chinese characters, his voice hoarse.

"This is the Xinhua Dictionary," Han Lei explained softly, her eyes constantly observing the reaction on Grand Secretary Zhang's face.

"These simplified characters are called simplified characters. They are easy to write and easy to read. If they can be promoted throughout the country in the future, they will greatly lower the threshold for literacy. This is also one of the cornerstones for education for all. Your Excellency, what you are holding in your hands now is the beginning of enlightenment for thousands of poor students in the future."

As if burned, Grand Secretary Zhang's hand trembled violently, but he quickly gripped the dictionary again, as if he were grasping a scalding, infinitely possible future.

He turned the pages one by one, his gaze fixed on them, muttering to himself, "Easy to write, easy to recognize, easy to write, easy to recognize... If it could really be like that... If it could really be like that..."

He seemed to see countless young hands holding pens, easily writing these words, and he saw a prosperous scene of schools standing tall and the sound of reading aloud filling the air.

This thin booklet felt incredibly heavy in his hands.

"Currently, the teachers in Cangzhou have begun learning the simplified characters in this dictionary in preparation for future teaching," Han Lei added.

Just then, Zhao Zun slowly stood up.

He walked up to Grand Secretary Zhang, straightened his robes, and with a solemn expression, bowed deeply, his waist almost bent at a ninety-degree angle: "Teacher."

Grand Secretary Zhang looked up from the dictionary, his eyes filled with complex emotions as he gazed at him.

Zhao Zun's voice was deep and sincere, carrying a calm strength born from years of experience.

"What others say about me, whether I am loyal or treacherous, king or thief, is no longer important to me. I am here today not to defend myself, but to ask you for a favor."

He raised his head, his gaze burning with unprecedented determination and sincerity.

"I humbly request that you, Master, come out of seclusion and go to Cangzhou. It is not to clear my name as a 'traitor,' nor to ask you for strategic advice. I only wish that you teach the common children of Cangzhou who have just entered school to read and write, to understand principles and be good people. I wish you would impart to those children who would otherwise never have the opportunity to encounter the words of sages what you have learned throughout your life and the 'Dao' you uphold. I wonder if you, Master... would be willing?"

Grand Secretary Zhang was completely stunned.

The request to come out of seclusion was not to serve as a staff member or an imperial tutor, but to... teach children? To realize the dream of "education for all"? This request was completely unexpected, yet it struck him like a heavy hammer, hitting the deepest, most tender ideal in his heart.

His lips trembled, and his face showed extreme struggle and hesitation.

The constraints of loyalty to the emperor, the instinctive aversion to rebellion, and the fear of the unknown future were fiercely battling within him against the immense hope represented by the dictionary before him and the moving picture painted by his disciple's words.

Seeing the teacher's struggle, Zhao Zun spoke again, his tone more sincere.

"I know you have concerns, and this matter is of great importance. I do not wish to force you to make an immediate decision. I humbly suggest that you accompany me on a trip to Cangzhou, simply as a leisurely stroll to relax and see for yourself. If, after witnessing it, you still feel that what I have done is not the right path, and you still do not wish to stay in Cangzhou, I swear to God I will not force you to stay. I will personally escort you back to your hometown and guarantee that what happened today will not be known to any outsiders, and will not cause any damage to your reputation!"

Big Fatty hurriedly stepped forward, grabbing Zhang Grand Secretary's sleeve, his eyes full of pleading: "Grandpa, please go and see! Cangzhou is really different from what people say! I promise you, you won't regret this trip! There... there really is hope there!"

Grand Secretary Zhang looked at his earnest student, then at Han Lei with her clear and determined eyes, then at his anxious grandson, before finally returning his gaze to the heavy dictionary in his hand.

Those square, simplified Chinese characters seemed to come alive, dancing before his eyes, weaving into a dream he had cherished his whole life but never dared to believe could come true.

A long time, a long time.

The hall was silent except for the tense breathing of the crowd and the slight crackling of the burning candles.

Finally, as if he had used up all his strength, Grand Secretary Zhang let out a long, long sigh.

He closed his eyes, then opened them again. Though there was still struggle in his eyes, there was now a hint of determination and an irrepressible curiosity.

His voice was hoarse as he slowly said, "...Very well. This old man...will go with you to see for himself what Cangzhou is really like."

Big Fatty's face immediately lit up with joy, and he almost jumped up: "Grandpa, you agreed! That's wonderful!"

Grand Secretary Zhang waved his hand, his face regaining some of the composure and caution he usually displayed, and said in a low voice, "However... we need to be discreet, under the cover of night..."

"Grandpa!" The chubby man couldn't help but laugh, his tone filled with pride and relief. "You're overthinking it! To put it bluntly, the entire Jingzhou is now under Zhao Zun's control. The King of Jingzhou and Prefect Song are both family members, so the journey will be safe. You can rest assured and go with dignity! We'll set off first thing tomorrow morning!"

"The entire Jingzhou?!" Grand Secretary Zhang was so shocked he almost stood up from his chair. He turned his head sharply, his gaze shooting at Zhao Zun with horror, as if trying to confirm from his face whether this earth-shattering news was true.

How long has it been?

Is Jingzhou also under Zhao Zun's control?

Did he mishear?
Zhao Zun met his gaze and nodded steadily and firmly. There was no boasting, no ostentation, only a calm and confident air of having everything under control.

Grand Secretary Zhang was completely stunned. He slowly sat back in his chair, his back involuntarily straightening up.

He gazed at the student before him, who had become both familiar and unfamiliar, and at Han Lei, who was pretty, sweet, and intelligent, behind him. Then he thought of the magical dictionary, the magnificent text that proclaimed "to bring peace to all generations," the defeated imperial army, the cement roads that covered Jingzhou, the free schools, and the massive paper mills...

Everything, like a tidal wave, crashed against his preconceived notions.

He suddenly realized that he might be standing at a turning point in an era, and that the student he had denounced as a "traitor" might be forging a path he could not have imagined.

He had only heard about this road from others, and now he was looking forward to going to see it for himself with them.

Outside the window, the sky was gradually darkening, but in Zhang Ge Lao's heart, it was as if a lamp was being quietly lit, growing brighter and brighter...

Twenty li outside the East Gate was the temporary military camp of the Eastern Ming army.

A tattered flag lay askew in the sand, the wind whipping up clouds of dust reeking of blood. People hurried about in the tents, their cries and groans filling the air.

The medics moved among the wounds, their gauze soaked in dark red, yet they still bent down to each one, trying to snatch a few lives from the clutches of death.

Inside the central command tent, the atmosphere was even more somber than outside.

Commander-in-Chief Murong Tai sat upright, his knuckles tapping heavily on the table, making the teacup jump.

"What exactly did the Intelligence Division send?!" His voice was deep and resonant, like muffled thunder. "Didn't they say that the Great Jing was in turmoil, the King of Cangzhou had rebelled, the imperial army was in defeat, and the border was vulnerable? But where did these reinforcements that suddenly appeared today come from?! If they hadn't suddenly attacked, the Dongming battle flag would already be flying over Dongguan City!"

Below him, a man leaned back in a chair, dressed in blood-red clothes, which made his skin appear even whiter.

As dawn broke, the Grand Commander of the Eastern Ming Intelligence Bureau, who was ordered to oversee the army, merely raised his eyelids lazily upon hearing this, a half-smile playing on his lips.

"General Murong," his voice was gentle yet sharp as a knife, "I witnessed with my own eyes the 100,000 troops personally dispatched by the Emperor of Dajing to attack the King of Cangzhou, only to suffer a crushing defeat. How could this be false? Even if Dajing is in chaos, it is not at the point of being at the mercy of others. Isn't it only natural that reinforcements have arrived?"

He chuckled softly: "But you, General, saw that the vanguard had already broken through the city gate, but because of a slight disturbance inside the city, you hastily ordered the retreat... You yourself ordered the loss of this city gate that you had just captured. What, now you want to blame me?"

"You!" Murong Tai stood up abruptly, veins throbbing on his forehead. "If your intelligence hadn't been so vague and failed to ascertain the strength of the reinforcements, would I have ordered a retreat? If it's a trap, and our army has ventured deep into enemy territory, who will bear the consequences?!"

"Oh?" Dongfang Jiming slowly straightened up, his red robe trailing on the ground, his gait languid yet imposing. "So, in the General's opinion, it's all my fault for providing the intelligence? And you, the battle-hardened commander, bear absolutely no responsibility?"

Their eyes clashed in the air, and the air inside the tent seemed to freeze, leaving only heavy breathing.

A moment later, Dongfang Jiming suddenly smiled, a smile that was strangely enchanting, which diluted the gunpowder smell in the tent, but added a touch of chill.

"Very well. Since the general has concluded that I am the one who held us back..." He stepped forward, his voice low but each word clear, "then let the soldiers rest for a while, and for the next siege, let me 'give advice.' You will command, and we will fight according to my plan. If we still cannot capture Dongguan City, I will apologize to His Majesty and admit that my intelligence was wrong, causing us to miss the opportunity. What do you say?"

Murong Tai's eyes narrowed: "Grand Commander of the East, do not forget your place. You are merely a military supervisor and have no right to command my army."

“Of course I remember.” Dongfang Jiming had already walked to his side, leaning slightly forward, his breath almost brushing against Murong Tai’s ear. “Therefore, I will not give orders, but only…offer advice. Whether you listen or not is up to you. If you listen to my plan and still lose, the blame will be on me. If you do not follow my plan and still lose, the blame will be on you.”

Murong Tai stared at the almost demonically beautiful face so close to his own, remained silent for a moment, and finally said in a deep voice, "...What's your idea?"

Dongfang Jiming's smile deepened as he slowly moved closer, his lips almost touching Murong Tai's ear, and whispered a few words.

The candlelight flickered inside the tent, casting the two figures' shadows onto the tent wall, overlapping and swaying.

Murong Tai's pupils suddenly contracted, and as Dongfang Jiming continued whispering, his eyes widened, and the color drained from his face.

"...General Murong, what do you think? Do you dare to fight like this?" After Dongfang Jiming finished speaking, he straightened up and leisurely adjusted his crimson cuffs.

Murong Tai turned his head sharply, as if seeing the person in front of him for the first time, his eyes filled with disbelief, fear, and unfamiliarity.

Outside the tent, the cries of wounded soldiers could be faintly heard on the wind; inside, however, all was deathly silent.

Five days later, outside the East Gate city walls, the Eastern Ming Empire's army once again pressed in.

This time, the Dongming army's formation was completely different from usual.

At the very front of the army were two rows of soldiers, their clothes tattered and stained with blood. Their armor was broken and their eyes were filled with fear, forming a stark and tragic contrast with the well-equipped and orderly Eastern Ming army.

These people had no will to fight, only despair and fear in their eyes, like a flock of sheep being driven and forced to stand at the forefront of the killing sequence.

On the city wall, Marshal Li Jianyong and the soldiers guarding the city witnessed this scene and were filled with indignation.

The enemy intended to use prisoners as their vanguard to force them to attack the city, which was an extremely cruel tactic.

This tactic, known in ancient times as "first to scale the walls" or "trapping the enemy camp," is essentially a ruthless strategy of "using prisoners to attack cities," or "using prisoners as soldiers."

These prisoners were used as human shields and were the first wave of expendable resources.

The purpose of this was clear and cruel: to use their own flesh and blood to exhaust the arrows, logs, boiling oil, and flint on the city walls; and to use their lives to test the weaknesses and vulnerabilities in the defenders' defenses.

Even more insidious is the psychological warfare.

The Dongming army wanted to make the Dajing soldiers witness the tragic scene of their compatriots attacking the city and the infighting, thus psychologically tearing apart the will of the defenders.

Those on the city walls dared not fire arrows or throw stones, yet in an instant, they found themselves in a desperate dilemma between loyalty and survival.

The Eastern Ming Empire used this opportunity to conserve its elite troops and preserve its strength. Only when the prisoners were almost wiped out and the defending army was exhausted would their main force be deployed.

If prisoners decide to surrender, it is also a cruel test for the surrendered soldiers. Using the city of their former comrades as a target, they are forced to cut off their retreat and hand over a bloody "pledge of allegiance".

However, such troops were always used only as a temporary measure. They lacked equipment, training, and morale. Once their usefulness was exhausted, what awaited them was often a more tragic end than that on the battlefield.

On the battlefield outside the city walls, war drums sounded and the fighting began.

The Dongming soldiers, wielding long swords, shouted orders and drove the Dajing prisoners toward the city wall.

The prisoners' weapons were broken, with broken swords, broken knives, and even wooden sticks and bamboo poles, making them unusable in battle.

They staggered forward, moving amidst shouts and threats, like flowing embankments of flesh and blood, slowly surging towards the East Gate city wall.

On the city wall, Marshal Li Jianyong, watching this scene, had his hair and beard bristling, and his hand holding the gun trembled slightly.

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