Song Dynasty: Yuan Dynasty, you didn't expect this, did you? I'm still alive.

In the thirty-ninth year of the Jingyan era (1314 AD), in the Central Plains, Emperor Renzong of Yuan, in an effort to ease the sharp tensions between Mongol nobles and Han Chinese scholar-officials, issued an edict to reinstate the imperial examination system, historically known as the "Yanyou Restoration of the Imperial Examinations." For a time, the scholars of the Central Plains rejoiced, and the tension between Mongol and Han officials eased somewhat. However, the resentment between the court and the common people deepened—exorbitant taxes and levies remained unchanged, corvée labor was still heavy, and popular discontent surged like an undercurrent. However, due to the Yuan Dynasty's strict maritime prohibition, this news from the Central Plains was lost to the Eastern Song Dynasty, thousands of miles away.

At this time, Japan had been under the rule of Luo He, the governor of the Eastern Song Dynasty, for three years. On the Osaka Plain southeast of Kyoto, a massive water conservancy project that took three years to complete was finally finished. The once silted-up Yodo River and Yamato River were dredged and widened, and sturdy dikes stretched along the river channels, firmly restraining the floods of the rainy season; crisscrossing drainage canals spread out like a spider web, transforming the former swampy land into a continuous stretch of fertile land. The fertility of this land was cultivated with the lives of tens of thousands of Japanese prisoners of war—over three years, countless prisoners fell on the construction site, their blood and sweat seeping into the soil, ultimately bringing about the rebirth of the Osaka Plain.

The entire Osaka Plain came under the direct jurisdiction of the Governor-General's Office. Standing on the high slope, Luo He gazed at the boundless fertile fields before him, feeling a great sense of accomplishment. He immediately decided to bestow some of the land upon the Song soldiers stationed in Japan. He had originally intended to grant the land in his own name; these soldiers, armed and rooted in a foreign land, would be more secure if they possessed permanent property, thus strengthening the Governor-General's rule.

Just as Luo He was about to gather the soldiers to announce the good news, a scholar from the governor's mansion suddenly stepped forward, bowed, and stopped him. This man, named Jiang Chang, had lean features and sharp eyes. His tone was calm yet carried a hint of warning: "Governor, Japan is thousands of miles from Australia. If you personally win over the troops and bestow land, it will inevitably lead outsiders to speculate that you intend to establish a separatist regime. This is a path to disaster!"

With a jolt, Luo He's heart skipped a beat, instantly jolting him from his reverie. He suddenly realized that the governor-general held immense military and political power, and being located in a remote, foreign land, he was essentially a feudal lord, a position the court was keenly wary of. As the first governor-general of Japan from the Eastern Song Dynasty, his every move was under the watchful eye of the Australian court; the slightest misstep could bring him disaster. A cold sweat broke out on his back. He quickly stepped forward to help Jiang Chang up, bowing sincerely in thanks: "Sir, your words have awakened me from my dream; I will remember this kindness! Would you be willing to serve as my advisor and offer me strategic counsel?"

Seeing that Luo He readily agreed, Jiang Chang's eyes flashed with approval, and he immediately bowed and agreed: "I am willing to serve the Governor-General with utmost loyalty."

At Jiang Chang's suggestion, Luo He finally issued a decree in the name of the imperial court, granting some land to the stationed soldiers. These soldiers did not need to cultivate the land themselves; they only needed to become estate owners, with local Japanese tenants doing the work for them, and they could simply enjoy the fruits of their labor. The remaining land was partly granted to Eastern Song merchants who had rendered meritorious service in the war against Japan—these merchants, though not lacking in land, highly valued this goodwill from the governor-general's office, as it meant their interests in Japan would be officially protected; the final small portion was distributed to bankrupt Japanese samurai willing to serve the governor-general's office. For them, who ruled Japan was unimportant; obtaining land and stipends was what mattered most.

Under the unified planning of the Governor-General's Office, the entire Osaka Plain was planted with rice. Once the rice matured, it was continuously transported to the Eastern Song Dynasty for sale, generating substantial profits. Previously, Eastern Song merchants had never traded Japanese rice on a large scale, simply because Japan was mountainous, rice production was scarce, and transportation was inconvenient. Now, with the fertile land of Osaka, rice production surged. More importantly, Japanese rice had a longer growing cycle and a soft, sweet taste, quite different from the Champa rice widely cultivated in the Eastern Song Dynasty—Champa rice, although high-yielding and quick-maturing, had a low sugar content and a coarse texture due to the hot climate, which had long since become tiresome for the people of the Eastern Song.

The booming sales of Japanese rice led to the widespread circulation of Song Dynasty copper coins within Osaka. For Japanese tenant farmers suffering from deflation, the allure of copper coins was irresistible, and large numbers of Japanese people flocked to Osaka to rent land and work for a living. Meanwhile, outside the Governor-General's jurisdiction, the region remained mired in deflation, and the people suffered. Luo He was indifferent to this; his duty was to consolidate the Governor-General's rule, and the Japanese outside his jurisdiction were simply not within his consideration.

Under the Governor-General's administration, life was a paradise of plenty; outside, it was a hell of misery. The Japanese people were not foolish; they naturally knew how to choose. Gradually, Luo He's rule was accepted by more and more Japanese, and the voices of resistance gradually subsided.

During these three years, while suppressing rebellious forces from all sides, Luo He unexpectedly discovered two treasure troves—Mount Aso in Kyushu and the area around Hakone in the Kanto region. These two places contained vast amounts of sulfur, far exceeding the reserves of the South Pacific islands. However, the Japanese were unaware that sulfur could be used to make gunpowder and never mined it, leaving these strategic resources lying dormant underground like unclaimed property.

For the Eastern Song Dynasty, sulfur was a core raw material for gunpowder production, a vital strategic asset. Luo He immediately ordered the two sulfur-producing sites to be transferred to the Governor-General's office, and then publicly sold the mining rights to the highest-paying Eastern Song merchant, on the condition that 50% of the profits be handed over to the Governor-General's office. Even with such a high commission, merchants flocked to purchase the mining rights—it's worth noting that the Eastern Song Dynasty had always prohibited private mining; the potential profits from opening up sulfur mining rights to Japan were unimaginable.

After acquiring mining rights, Eastern Song merchants hired local Japanese to mine the sulfur and taught them basic sulfur refining techniques. The refined sulfur was then transported to Australia by merchant ships. The merchants paid the Japanese workers relatively low wages, but settled accounts using Eastern Song copper coins—which were already a form of hard currency in Japan. With these wages, these Japanese workers quickly rose to a comfortable middle-class status in Japan, not only having enough to eat and wear but also having surplus copper coins to buy Eastern Song silk, porcelain, and other goods, living a very comfortable life.

The generous treatment made these Japanese workers utterly loyal to the Governor-General's Office. Some shrewd workers, after accumulating wealth, bought land from bankrupt plantation owners and became new plantation owners themselves. These new plantation owners, in order to curry favor with the Eastern Song merchants, resorted to various means to establish relationships, such as giving them money or offering them women. Later, they even stopped participating in sulfur mining themselves, instead hiring other Japanese to do the work for them, taking a cut, or even directly deducting wages from their own food—the "outsourcing" model that would later become popular among Eastern Song merchants was thus quietly born in Japan.

The first group of off-the-job minor nobles who pledged allegiance to the Governor-General's Office thus emerged in Japan, becoming a solid pillar of Luo He's rule over Japan.

Besides the sulfur trade, another massive business in Japan was the human trade. Merchants from the Eastern Song Dynasty would buy up bankrupt samurai in Japan and then transport them to plantations in Southeast Asia for sale. The plantation owners in Southeast Asia were extremely fond of these "Japanese slaves"—the natives they had previously employed were too ignorant, not only inefficient in their work but also often lazy and shirking their duties, causing the plantation owners a great deal of trouble.

The plantation owners who purchased the Japanese slaves, however, enjoyed a life of luxury. These Japanese, though from a small country, were civilized and communicated with far more easily than the natives. The plantation owners then had the Japanese guard the native slaves. While the Japanese were docile and obedient to the Song people, they displayed their cruel nature towards the natives, taking pleasure in mistreating them. If a native was found slacking off, they would be brutally beaten. Under the oppressive supervision of the Japanese, the natives' work efficiency increased dramatically.

More importantly, the escalating conflict between the natives and the Song people was transformed by the arrival of the Japanese. The hatred in the hearts of the natives gradually shifted from the Song people to these domineering Japanese, and the conflict between the Song and the natives decreased significantly. The Japanese, however, were indifferent to this; in their eyes, the natives were all barbarians and unworthy of sympathy. Moreover, the plantation owners of the Eastern Song Dynasty treated them better than they had when they served the Shogunate before Japan's bankruptcy, so they naturally had to repay them with utmost loyalty.

The plantation owners of the Eastern Song Dynasty, having taken a break from their jobs, were able to devote all their energy to pleasure. Others, taking advantage of their leisure time and interests, began to study miscellaneous subjects, represented by "heavenly books." At this time in the Eastern Song Dynasty, miscellaneous studies were flourishing. Scholars, literati, and wealthy merchants would gather and invariably discuss "universal gravitation." Anyone who knew nothing about it would be scorned by others: "So he's just an ignorant nouveau riche."

The source of this trend of eclectic learning was none other than Zhao Shi. Now forty-three years old, Zhao Shi was no longer the decadent monarch he once was, but instead devoted himself to Taoist cultivation and longevity, determined to live until the day the Taoists invented sildenafil. Perhaps in order to better control his future life, he was more involved in politics than ever before.

Emperor Zhao Shi was extremely eager for the advancement of science and technology. Every time he met with his children, he would test their knowledge of the "heavenly book." Any prince who achieved something in miscellaneous studies would receive his favor and generous rewards. Among them, the second prince, Zhao Wen, was exceptionally gifted in miscellaneous studies and was deeply favored by Emperor Zhao Shi. He was even allowed to participate in government affairs alongside Crown Prince Zhao Jing.

This decision was like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, making Crown Prince Zhao Jing feel deeply threatened. In order to consolidate his position, Zhao Jing began to recruit scholars skilled in various fields from among the common people, having them specialize in research. Once they achieved results, the credit would be attributed to him. It was through this tactic that Zhao Jing barely managed to maintain his footing under the Second Prince's aggressive pressure.

Seeing this, the other princes followed suit, recruiting scholars of various kinds and secretly accumulating power. Historically, there have been many instances where a third party ultimately benefited from the power struggle between the crown prince and the second prince, and no one wanted to miss this opportunity.

For scholars in the Eastern Song Dynasty who couldn't pass the single-plank bridge of the imperial examinations, studying miscellaneous subjects became another path to advancement. They flocked to the tutelage of various princes, immersing themselves in the study of miscellaneous subjects, hoping that one day they could use their knowledge to "serve the emperor" and rise to prominence.

Meanwhile, officials in the court also joined this craze for miscellaneous studies. With Chancellor Ye Li aging and the position soon to become vacant, countless officials coveted this high post. In the early years, when Emperor Zhao Shi first assumed power, his foundation was not yet stable, and he had to listen to the opinions of his ministers when choosing a chancellor; now that Zhao Shi held great power, the next chancellor selection would inevitably be based on his own preferences. Therefore, officials either personally studied various subjects or imitated the princes by recruiting scholars of diverse learning, trying every means to win the emperor's favor.

From then on, the trend of diverse learning flourished in the Eastern Song Dynasty, and technological development entered a fast track.