The worse you are, the stronger you become: My summoned beast is a photographer.

The host stood on the stage, solemnly raising the microphone, breaking the lingering excitement of the perfect score on the painting, and announced the rules for the third question, instantly drawing everyone's attention back to the competition itself: "The third question is a policy essay! The theme is 'On the Predicament of Winter's Desolation and Seeking a Strategy for the Empire's Peace and Security'—This winter's harsh cold arrived early, snowstorms blocked roads in the north, refugees poured south, granaries were running low, countless livestock froze to death, and a plague was spreading among the refugees. Each contestant must, based on the current situation of the empire, propose a feasible and implementable policy that can solve any one of these problems. The time limit is one and a half hours. The judges will score based on four dimensions: 'feasibility, innovation, comprehensiveness, and humanism,' with a maximum score of 500 points per question. Let's begin!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the staff distributed the policy paper, ink sticks, and inkstones. The entire room fell silent, with only the soft scratching of pens on paper, like countless silkworms munching on mulberry leaves.

Amos gripped his pen tightly, a hint of defeat and dejection flashing in his eyes. Ming Luochen had already scored 2472 points, while he only had 1263, a difference of more than 1200 points.

There's no way we can get first place; we can only secure second.

He immediately began writing, focusing on "nobles donating grain, the army controlling refugees, and building snow walls in the north for warmth." His approach was conventional, consistent with the empire's usual style, containing neither outrageous statements nor innovative highlights. After finishing, he revised it repeatedly, his expression still tense, occasionally glancing in Ming Luochen's direction, silently praying that the other would make a mistake.

Morton, on the other hand, looked extremely anxious. Born into the hyena tribe of the grasslands, he had only a rudimentary understanding of the harshness of winter—winter on the grasslands was simply a matter of enduring it, or dying. After struggling for more than half an hour, he finally managed to write down the harsh measures of "expelling refugees, burning diseased livestock in large numbers, and forcibly conscripting laborers to transport grain," which were full of brute force and completely devoid of human consideration.

After finishing writing, he slammed his fist on the table, the dull thud particularly jarring in the quiet auditorium, drawing the attention of the surrounding contestants. But he still couldn't think of a better way, and could only slump back in his chair, his teeth grinding together.

Ming Luochen, however, has yet to put pen to paper.

He tapped his fingers lightly on the table, his expression grave, his mind racing. He recalled the historical experiences of Earth in dealing with harsh winters during the Middle Ages—food shortages were addressed by storing grain in cellars and crop rotation to reserve winter food; insufficient heating was addressed by fermenting straw and using mud walls for insulation; the problem of displaced people was addressed by exchanging work for food and building temporary warm sheds; and livestock freezing to death was addressed by covering pens with soil and using straw as padding.

These methods do exist in the world. They are like weeds scattered in fields, here and there, fragmented experiences accumulated over generations. They are not novel, and no one has systematically organized them. Ultimately, the core difficulties of all problems boil down to two points: the mobilization of manpower and the allocation of resources.

He glanced at the judges' panel and the audience, and understood immediately.

The core reason the Papacy can stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the Royal Family and the Papacy is its control over the redistribution of resources—they can raise funds to settle refugees and stabilize livelihoods, essentially balancing the interests of nobles and commoners. But most problems in this world, in essence, are games of resource allocation. With money and food, who would worry about refugees? Proper resettlement and ensuring basic needs are met are enough for national peace and prosperity.

The key point is that the nobles neither want to spend money or pay taxes, yet they want to resolve the problem peacefully. There's no such thing as a free lunch.

Warning bells rang loudly in Ming Luochen's mind.

In this medieval-like foreign land, nobles valued power and interests immensely. If he uttered any outrageous remarks that touched upon the core interests of the nobility, his life would likely be in danger.

All the problems boil down to one word – money.

How can we increase national income without making the nobles feel like they are spending money? Where will the money come from?

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that everyone's attention was focused on him. Judges, nobles, and other contestants alike were all curious about what kind of strategy this summoned beast from another world would come up with.

After a moment of silence, Ming Luochen slowly stood up.

He didn't pick up a pen, nor did he look down at the paper. Instead, his gaze was fixed firmly on the audience, his hands resting on the edge of the table, his body leaning slightly forward. His voice was clear and serious, carrying throughout the entire auditorium through the amplification magic circle:

My suggestion is to promote standardization and national standards.

The entire room fell silent for a moment, as everyone's attention was drawn to it.

"To improve our predicament, we must first understand the root of the problem." Ming Luochen's voice was unhurried, as if telling a story. "Solving problems requires evidence and direction, rather than blindly implementing measures and engaging in endless arguments. For example, my wife Aura's uncle, Earl Raven Crest's territory, is currently experiencing desertification, resulting in a significant reduction in food production. The Earl claims it's the work of the Barren Desert Demon, but in my world, we value science. We investigate the causes and principles of everything, and there's no such thing as ghosts or monsters."

The professors on the judging panel leaned forward slightly, their eyes full of curiosity. Many of them subconsciously frowned, then quickly relaxed, feeling that these words had hit the nail on the head, and a sense of "I see" washed over them.

"In my world, there's also the problem of desertification," Ming Luochen continued. "But we never blame it on ghosts or monsters. The root causes are either over-development of the land, vegetation destruction preventing soil stabilization, or excessive consumption of soil nutrients—all of which have clear textbooks and national standards as a basis. Whatever the problem with the land, we can quickly find a solution by referring to the national standards."

He then shifted his focus, aligning with the policy discussion's theme: "The same applies to the current predicament of winter desolation. When a snow disaster strikes, what is the rescue process? What are the specific steps for resettling displaced people? When to cultivate the land, how to raise livestock, and how to prevent epidemics? These can all be recorded, organized, and revised to ultimately form unified standards. Even those of mediocre talent can avoid confusion and disagreements by following national standards when encountering problems, instead of each sticking to their own opinion and arguing endlessly."

On the judging panel, a white-haired owl-orc professor couldn't help but ask a question. His feathers were slightly ruffled, and his tone was filled with confusion and thirst for knowledge: "But the empire's territory is vast, with huge differences between the north and south, and between mountainous and plain areas. The situation is different in every place. How can a unified standard be achieved?"

Ming Luochen had anticipated this question and responded calmly, his tone patient yet firm: "National standards are not singular and unchanging, but rather hierarchical. There are nationally unified basic standards, regional standards adapted to the differences between the north and south, and local standards for different landforms such as mountains, plains, and coastlines. These standards complement each other, ensuring uniformity while taking into account local differences, thus avoiding the problem of a 'one-size-fits-all' approach."

Amos, sitting in the audience, listened intently, his pen unconsciously scribbling notes on a piece of paper. He inwardly praised: This method, though seemingly simple, could fundamentally solve the problem of chaotic policy implementation. If implemented, it would not only resolve the current winter crisis but also greatly benefit the long-term governance of the empire, far superior to his own conventional approach.

Emperor Leonhard Griffith, seated on the throne, tapped his fingers lightly on the armrest, his expression thoughtful. His golden eyes reflected Ming Luochen's figure, a hint of approval flashing in them as he nodded slightly—having handled state affairs for many years, he was acutely aware of the drawbacks of "chaotic policies and inconsistent standards" in the empire's governance. Local lords acted independently, handling the same problem in drastically different ways, leaving the people bewildered and policies largely ineffective. Ming Luochen's suggestion had precisely struck at the heart of the matter.

Benuna smiled slightly, her gaze towards Ming Luochen filled with admiration, her red hair cascading down like a waterfall under the lights.

Just as everyone was immersed in Ming Luochen's thoughts, and many people began to discuss in hushed tones the feasibility of national standardization—

"He plagiarized!"

A sharp sound exploded from the corner, like a knife slicing through cloth.

Austin, who was in the corner, suddenly stood up, his face contorted with madness, his snake tail thrashing violently under the chair. His vertical pupils were bloodshot, and his voice was hoarse, as if squeezed from his throat: "These methods weren't his own idea! They were stolen! Stolen from his original world!"

The entire room fell silent instantly, and all eyes turned to him.

Ming Luochen, however, remained calm.

He slowly turned to face Austin, a faint, mocking smile playing on his lips. There was no anger, no panic in that smile, only a superior composure.

"I admit it." His voice wasn't loud, but it was firm and resolute. "Standardization is the way of my original world."

Austin's eyes lit up; he thought he had caught someone red-handed.

But Ming Luochen didn't give him a chance to speak, and continued, "But my idea is to build upon this empire's foundation by establishing a dedicated National Standards Bureau to collect various experiences and classic texts on agriculture, disaster relief, and people's livelihood across the country, and then, in conjunction with the empire's actual situation, compile exclusive national standards for agronomy and disaster relief. This will transform these scattered experiences into unified standards that can be promoted and implemented."

He paused, looked directly at Austin, and said in a voice like a drawn sword, "On this point, can you provide evidence to prove that I plagiarized?"

Austin was instantly dumbfounded.

He opened his mouth, letting out a muffled "uh," but couldn't utter a single word. He was merely making a desperate, baseless accusation; he had absolutely no evidence whatsoever.

But Ming Luochen's words directly blocked all his escape routes.

Everyone present could see clearly that Austin was simply a sore loser and was deliberately spreading rumors to cause trouble.

On the judging panel, the goat-orc professor frowned and whispered something to the guards beside him. Two guards quickly approached Austin, grabbed his arms on either side, and dragged him out.

"Let me go! You can't do this to me! I'm a student at the Royal Academy of Noble Families! I'm a member of the Carter family!" Austin struggled, his snake tail thrashing wildly on the ground, but he couldn't break free from the guards' iron clamps.

No one looked at him, and no one spoke up for him.

Amos kept his head down, his knuckles white from gripping the pen so tightly, and never looked up. Morton grinned, scoffed, and muttered, "Serves him right."

Austin was dragged out of the hall, his screams fading into the distance until they disappeared outside the auditorium doors.

The turmoil subsided.

Ming Luochen didn't look in that direction again, turned around and went back to his seat, picking up his pen.

Write with ease.

He wrote down the specific implementation plan for national standardization on a policy paper: the composition of the National Standardization Administration – experts in agronomy, economics, and sociology were drawn from major universities, supplemented by experienced local officials; the scope of experience collection – covering agricultural books, medical classics, disaster relief records, and folk remedies from all provinces in the country; the hierarchical compilation method of national standards – first compiling basic national standards, then regional supplements, and finally local detailed rules.

In response to the current harsh winter, he proposed three national standards to be prioritized: disaster relief process standards—when to report, when to allocate grain, and when to provide relief after a snow disaster, with timelines for each step; grain storage technology standards—the depth of cellars, moisture-proof measures, and storage periods for different grain varieties; and epidemic prevention operation standards—the procedures for handling infected livestock, isolation measures in epidemic areas, and methods for purifying drinking water.

It is well-organized and highly practical.

An hour and a half passed quickly.

The three submitted their policy proposals in turn.

The five professors on the judging panel took turns flipping through the papers, exchanging hushed conversations. After reading Ming Luochen's answer sheet, the goat-beastman professor took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and let out a long sigh: "This... this is not just an essay, this is a complete strategy for governing the country."

The owl judge nodded, its feathers slightly ruffled: "Every point hits the nail on the head, and they can all be implemented immediately."

"Amos's strategy, while sound, lacks innovation and fails to address the core issue," another judge commented. "It cannot resolve the chaos of large-scale implementation."

"Morton's strategy is too harsh, ignores the human rights of homeless people, and may even exacerbate the conflict," a female judge shook her head, her tone clearly critical.

Finally, the goat-orc professor cleared his throat and announced: "Ming Luochen's strategy is grounded in the realities of the empire, and proposes an innovative, standardized solution that balances feasibility, humanism, and comprehensiveness. 500 points."

The host took the score sheet, his voice trembling with excitement: "Scoring for the third question, the policy essay, is complete—Amos, 420 points; Morton, 350 points; Ming Luochen, a perfect score of 500 points!"

"Final total score—Ming Luochen and Aola's duo, 3472 points! Far surpassing second place Amos's 1683 points, they become the overall champions of this year's liberal arts competition!"

The host's voice was still echoing in the auditorium when applause surged up like a tide, wave after wave, almost lifting the dome off.

There was no doubt, no jealousy, only heartfelt admiration. Those who had once mocked the "F-rank summoned beast" now clapped their hands until they were red; those who had once doubted "Pudi Yale Academy" now stood up and paid their respects to the short human.

His Majesty Leonhardt rose to his feet, his golden mane gleaming like flames under the lamplight. His voice, steady and powerful, resonated throughout the hall:

"Mr. Ming Luochen's proposal for national standardization is extremely visionary. I hereby announce—it will be piloted immediately in the capital! The Senate will then discuss the matter and formulate guidelines for the establishment and implementation of the National Standardization Administration!"

He paused, his gaze falling on Ming Luochen, a slight smile playing on his lips: "I bestow upon him one hundred taels of gold and ten S-grade crystals. Furthermore, I invite Mr. Luochen Ming to the palace to discuss strategies for governing the empire and implementing national standards!"

Ming Luochen didn't want to waste his time going to the palace, but he also didn't want to embarrass His Majesty in public.

"Thank you for your reward, Your Majesty." Ming Luochen bowed respectfully, neither humble nor arrogant, but the corners of his mouth couldn't help but turn up in a smile.

One hundred taels of gold. Ten S-grade crystals.

He quickly did the mental calculations—one S-grade crystal was worth two hundred gold coins, ten crystals would be worth two thousand gold coins. Add to that one hundred taels of gold, and it would be another large sum of money.

We're one step closer to our goal of 3,125 S-grade crystals.

He turned his head to look at Aura, who was looking at him with red eyes but a smile on her lips.

She whispered something in her heart that only he could hear:

Honey, we won.

"Yes." Ming Luochen squeezed her hand. "We won."

He didn't say "I won," he said "We won."

From beginning to end, he never forgot that this match was played by two people together.

The applause continued.