My brothers are all warriors capable of taking on ten thousand men; I'll roam freely in the Thr

On the second day of the first month of the second year of Zhongping, the streets and alleys of Zhuojun County were still filled with the aroma of sacrificial incense.

After the snow cleared, the sunlight shone on the swept bluestone path, giving it a cold, sharp glow.

People exchanged New Year's greetings, and children chased and played, truly resembling a peaceful festival.

However, beneath this calm, an undercurrent is brewing.

At dawn, brand-new notices were posted at the city gates and in prominent locations in the markets of each county.

"The Recruitment Hall was established to attract talented individuals from all over the world."

"Anyone with the ability to govern a country and command troops, the talent to manage the world and benefit the people, or the ingenuity and skill of a genius, regardless of their background or past experience, may enter the museum and present their case."

"Once assessed, those with the talent will be recruited, given official positions, and granted salaries."

"Prefect Ji Xuanyuan of Zhuojun has reserved a seat for him."

At the bottom of the signature, a bright red seal reading "Prefect of Zhuojun" is clearly visible.

Next to the notice, the police had already set up a wooden shed and hung up a plaque that read "Hall for Recruiting Talents".

Inside the shed, there was a desk, a brush, and ink, where two clerks sat solemnly.

The news spread like wildfire.

"Regardless of background? Can people from poor families become officials?"

"Ingenious and skillful techniques... They even recruit craftsmen and doctors?"

"General Ji is... about to cause a catastrophe!"

The streets and alleys were abuzz with discussion. An elderly scholar with white hair shook his head and sighed, "The rites and music have collapsed! The rites and music have collapsed!"

Some young scholars, however, had their eyes shining and clutched the scrolls in their sleeves tightly.

By noon, the area in front of the Zhaoxian Hall in Zhuoxian County was already packed with people.

Ji Xuanyuan, dressed in a white fox fur coat and escorted by Dian Wei and Zhao Yun, personally arrived at the gate.

His face was still pale, but his eyes were as clear as the sky after a snowfall.

Servants had already prepared writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones, and spread out a plain silk cloth about ten feet long.

Everyone held their breath.

Ji Xuanyuan picked up his brush, dipped it in ink, pondered for a moment, and then his brush moved like dragons and snakes.

The wine in the East Pavilion is warm, awaiting a wise man; the plum blossoms below the steps are touched by the first snow after the rain.

The servants called for more firewood to roast venison, and the guests' discussions filled the doorway.

Singing loudly to get drunk and console myself, I dance with my sword, holding a lamp that stirs the starlight.

Eager to find worthy men, yet fearing it might be too late, I whipped my horse and traversed the icy path.

The foolish woman of Kuaiji looked down on Maichen, and I too left home to travel west to Qin.

I laughed loudly and went out the door; how could I, a man of such talent, be a mere commoner!

The pen fell silent.

Immediately, a thunderous cheer erupted!

"What a powerful line as 'Laughing loudly, I stride out the door; how can I, a man of such talent, be a mere commoner!'"

"A broad mind and soaring spirit!"

"General Ji's thirst for talent has reached this level!"

The plain silk quilt hung high on the main wall of the Hall of Recruiting Talents, the ink stains gleaming with a dark gold luster in the winter sunlight.

The poem seemed to possess a magical power, igniting a fire in the hearts of every poor scholar who stopped to read it.

Snow reflects in the window of the prefect's study.

Guo Jia gently laid the copied poems on the table, his peach blossom eyes gleaming with a complex light.

Lu Zhi, Tian Feng, and Ju Shou sat around the table, each with a different expression.

"A fine poem." Guo Jia spoke first, lightly pointing to the line "The wine is warm in the East Pavilion to welcome the worthy": "Senior brother, you are comparing the Hall of Recruiting Talents to Gongsun Hong's 'East Pavilion.' The wine is warm, the plum blossoms have just cleared, the cold winter is coming to an end, and the spring is hidden in the air. The opening lines are full of the feeling of warmly welcoming guests and sweeping the bed to welcome them."

Lu Zhi stroked his beard and pondered, his gaze falling on the lines, "Calling the servant to add firewood to roast venison, guests discussing strategies fill the doorway": "Roasting venison to entertain guests, adding firewood to ward off the cold—these two lines depict the sincerity of treating scholars with respect, but then…"

He paused, a worried look appearing on his aged face: "'The hall is filled with the sounds of guests discussing strategies.' If the Hall of Recruiting Talents is truly filled with guests, engaging in lively discussions, and this gets out, it might cause controversy."

"Lord Lu is overthinking it."

Tian Feng pointed to the lines, "Singing loudly, drunk to console himself; wielding sword, lighting lamps, stirring the starlight," his eyes gleaming sharply: "My lord, this couplet ostensibly describes a banquet with singing and dancing, but in reality, it uses drunkenness to conceal ambition and the gleam of the sword to symbolize talent and strategy. 'Stirring the starlight'—this is an attempt to shake the very stars of the world!"

Ju Shou nodded slowly and continued, "'Thinking of worthy men so eagerly that it may be too late, one must spur one's horse and trek across icy paths.' Knowing that his illness is failing him and that time is of the essence, our lord is not afraid of hardship and is determined to recruit talented men even if it means treading on ice and frost. This urgency is genuine."

Guo Jia laughed and said, "Gentlemen, the last four lines are the essence of the entire poem."

He ran his finger across the paper: "'The foolish woman of Kuaiji despises Zhu Maichen' is an allusion to Zhu Maichen. Zhu Maichen was poor, and his wife left him because she disliked his failure to pass the imperial examination. Later, Maichen became the governor of Kuaiji and returned home in glory. My senior brother used this to describe those 'foolish women' who look down on those from poor families. In fact, it is a veiled satire of those powerful families who only look at social status and do not recognize true talent."

Lu Zhi's pupils constricted slightly.

"I also left home and went west to Qin." Guo Jia continued to interpret.

"Senior brother compares himself to a man of ambition who left his hometown to seek official position in Qin. However, Qin is strong because of its Legalist school of thought, and what senior brother wants to implement is not the Qin government."

"The last two sentences..."

Guo Jia's voice suddenly became impassioned: "'Laughing loudly, I stride out the door; how can we be mere commoners!' This is a call to all talented individuals from humble backgrounds! Do not belittle yourselves, do not be discouraged. If you and I have talent, we should step forward and establish great achievements! Commoners? We are not!"

The study fell silent for a moment.

The crackling fire reflected the ever-changing expressions on the four people's faces.

After a long silence, Lu Zhi sighed, "Wenlie's poem... is powerful and ambitious, and his desire to seek out talented people is evident to heaven and earth. However... it is too ostentatious. How could those powerful families not understand the underlying meaning?"

"So what if you can tell?" Tian Feng sneered.

"When our lord composed 'Bring in the Wine' in Yingchuan, he clearly stated that 'bells and drums and delicacies are not worth treasuring.' Now, he is simply putting those words into practice."

Ju Shou pondered for a moment and said, "Although this move is risky, it is necessary. Our lord's foundation is shallow. If we do not recruit talented people from humble backgrounds, how can we compete with those powerful and deeply rooted aristocratic families? However... we must guard against a backlash."

Guo Jia put down his teacup: "Now that my senior brother has made his move, we should plan everything carefully for him. I will personally oversee the recruitment of talents. All those who enter the recruitment hall must be strictly vetted. We must guard against spies from powerful families as well as those who are just pretending to be talented."

He paused for a moment, then said, "As for the criticisms from those powerful families... let them rant. In the end, it's strength that speaks for itself in this world."

Wuji, deep within the Zhen family mansion

Zhen Yi read the poem in his hand three times before slowly putting it down.

He looked at his second son, Zhen Yan, who was standing below the hall, and slowly said, "Yan'er, what do you think of this poem?"

Zhen Yan's expression was complicated. He bowed and said, "Father, Ji Wenlie's poem... is astonishing in its spirit. 'Laughing loudly, I go out the door; how can we be mere commoners?' This is meant to unite the hearts of all the poor scholars in the world."

"Gathering the hearts of the poor?" Zhen Yi chuckled lightly, but his smile was somewhat cold.

"He's trying to dig up the roots of the aristocratic families."

He stood up and walked to the window.

The snow in the courtyard had not yet melted, and several old plum trees were just beginning to bloom with red buds.

"Since ancient times, the selection of officials and the recommendation and recruitment have been controlled by aristocratic families. Even if a poor family has extraordinary talent, it is difficult to get ahead if there is no way to do so. Ji Wenlie's decree and poem for recruiting talents are going to break this centuries-old rule."

Zhen Yan hesitated and asked, "Then... how should my Zhen family conduct itself?"

Zhen Yi remained silent for a long time.

Zhen Yan suddenly recalled the question he had asked Zhen Mi upon returning from Zhuojun that day: "What kind of person do you think Ji Xuanyuan is?"

At that moment, Zhen Mi gazed quietly at the snow falling outside the carriage window. After a long while, she softly replied:

"He is like snow."

"Snow?" Zhen Yan asked, puzzled.

"Um."

Zhen Mi turned her head, and in her overly calm eyes were emotions that Zhen Yan could not understand: "She looks cold and pale, as if she would melt at the slightest touch, but if she accumulates enough... she can cover mountains and rivers, bury ravines, and turn the world into her color."

She paused, her voice even softer: "And, snow may look lifeless, but actually... every single flake is falling. Millions upon millions of flakes, falling together."

Zhen Yan was unaware of the reason at the time.

Looking back now, I suddenly break out in a cold sweat.

Thousands upon thousands of snowflakes fall together; that is momentum.

What Ji Xuanyuan wanted to gather was the "momentum" of these millions of people from humble backgrounds!

"Yan'er," Zhen Yi suddenly spoke.

"The child is here."

"Pass on a message to our people in Zhuojun: keep a close eye on any talented but poor individuals who wish to serve us. If any are truly gifted... the Zhen family can secretly provide financial assistance to help them pass the examinations."

Zhen Yan looked up in astonishment: "Father, what is this...?"

"Investment." Zhen Yi's gaze was profound.

"If Ji Wenlie succeeds, some of these newly rich from humble backgrounds may become future forces in the court. My Zhen family is offering timely help, and in the future... it will be a matter of goodwill."

"Yes." Zhen Yan accepted the order, but secretly clicked his tongue in amazement.

Is Father going to stake the entire future of the Zhen family on Ji Xuanyuan?

Yingchuan, Xun Family Academy

Xun Yu sat opposite his father Xun Kun, with the same poem, "Inscribed on the Wall of the Recruiting Talents Hall in Zhuo County," spread out on the table.

The charcoal fire burned quietly, filling the study with warmth, yet the atmosphere was somewhat stagnant.

Xun Kun stared at him for a long time before slowly saying, "Wenruo, your senior brother... is too bold."

Xun Yu lowered his eyes and remained silent.

"Regardless of background, only talent matters." Xun Kun sneered.

"It's easy to say, but to do it... it means making enemies of all the powerful families in the world. My Xun, Chen, and Zhong families of Yingchuan, the Yuan family of Runan, the Yang family of Hongnong... which of us hasn't survived for hundreds of years by relying on our family background and mutual recommendations?"

He pointed to the line in the poem, "The foolish woman of Kuaiji lightly bought Chen," and said, "This is an insult to all the noble families in the world, calling them 'foolish women.'"

Xun Yu finally raised his head, his handsome face calm: "Father, while it is certainly secure for aristocratic families to control the selection of officials, can they truly select those capable of governing the country and bringing peace to the land? During the Yellow Turban Rebellion, the world was in turmoil, and among all the officials in the court, was there even one who could turn the tide?"

Xun Gun paused.

"Senior brother's poem, though sharp, is full of sincerity," Xun Yu said softly.

"He was truly anxious. Although the Yellow Turban Rebellion had been quelled, chaos had already broken out across the land. If he did not quickly gather talented people and restore order to the country, he feared..."

He didn't continue.

Xun Kun remained silent for a long time before letting out a long sigh: "How could I not know? But... if the Xun family were to pledge allegiance to Ji Wenlie now, it would be tantamount to standing against all the noble families."

He looked at his son: "Wenruo, you are known as having the talent of a king's advisor. I will only ask you one question: do you really think Ji Xuanyuan can succeed?"

Xun Yu did not answer directly.

He looked out the window at the snow scene in Yingchuan and said softly, "When I was at Shuijing Manor, my senior brother taught me astronomy and geography. He said that the moon revolves around the earth and the earth revolves around the sun... At the time, I thought it was just a fantasy."

"Later, after reading historical records and observing celestial phenomena, I gradually realized that what they said... might be true."

"Would someone who can see the movement of stars and the truths of the universe... have a vision limited to social status and birth?"

Xun Kun was stunned.

"Father."

Xun Yu turned back, his gaze resolute: "Let's observe for a while longer. If Senior Brother can truly establish a firm foothold in Zhuojun and attract talented individuals without collapsing... then perhaps it's... worth risking the Xun family's century-old reputation for him."

Insults and praise fluttered like snowflakes.

In the following days, the entire Han Dynasty seemed to have been hit by a huge boulder.

"Ji Xuanyuan? A nobody from a poor family who managed to achieve some merit by sheer luck dares to talk about recruiting talented people?"

"Regardless of background? What a joke! Do peasants even deserve to be invited into this place?"

"He's digging his own grave! Let's see how long he can keep this up!"

"You think you're Guan Zhong or Yue Yi just because you wrote a couple of bad poems? What a fool!"

The powerful families of Jizhou, Yanzhou, Yuzhou, and other prefectures either openly condemned or privately ridiculed them.

Letters were sent to neighboring prefectures and counties of Zhuojun, urging local officials to "be wary of any disloyal acts by their subordinates."

However, the louder the criticism, the faster the poem spread.

"Laughing loudly, I stride out the door; how can I, a man of such talent, be a mere commoner!"

This line of poetry, like a thunderclap, resounded in the hearts of countless scholars from humble backgrounds.

Within Youzhou, young scholars have already set off with their packs, braving the snow to head to Zhuoxian.

Students from impoverished families in Qingzhou and Xuzhou made a pact with their friends: "Once the snow melts in spring, we'll head north together to see Ji Wenlie!"

"The person who can write such verses must be extraordinary!"

Even if I don't get an official position, just meeting him and hearing his words is worthwhile!

The recruitment halls in various counties of Zhuojun gradually became bustling with people, instead of being deserted.

Scholars in plain clothes came to discuss strategies, down-on-their-luck warriors came to demonstrate their skills, and even an old farmer, trembling, asked with blueprints for improved farming tools, "This... wouldn't you consider it a 'miraculous idea'?"

The clerk in charge of registration was initially somewhat arrogant, but seeing that the prefect sent people to inquire about the progress every day and even personally reviewed some of the policy proposals, his attitude gradually became more upright.

The snow is still falling.

Inside the Zhuojun Prefectural Governor's residence, Ji Xuanyuan, wrapped in a thick fur coat, sat by the charcoal fire, reviewing the documents sent from the Recruitment Hall that day.

He coughed a few times, and a faint blush rose on his pale face.

Outside the window, another group of young scholars arrived through the snow and formed a long queue in front of the Hall of Recruitment.

Dian Wei brought over a medicine cup and said in a deep voice, "General, this is the seventh batch today. Can this Recruitment Hall really attract talented people?"

Ji Xuanyuan took the medicine and drank it all in one gulp, the bitter taste spreading in his mouth.

He looked out the window at the young faces waiting in the wind and snow, and said softly:

"Whether or not we can attract talent is not important."

"The important thing is..."

"We must let the whole world know—"

"There's a door here, it's open."

He paused, his gaze deep and thoughtful:

"Keep it open, and people will come."

"Where there are people, there is hope."

The snow falls silently, covering the mountains and rivers.

But that cry of "Laughing loudly, I go out the door; how can we, a man of such talent, be mere commoners?" spread like wildfire across this ancient land.

The curtain of chaos is being slowly drawn back by a pale hand.

Behind the curtain are countless eyes ignited by this poem.

They came from all directions, trudging through the snow.

In this chaotic world, I must find... a path that belongs to me.