Poverty Alleviation in Qin: A Sky-High Review of "I Am the Female Prime Minister of All Time&qu

"Feng Jie".

"Your subject is here."

Where is De'an County located, and to which prefecture does it belong?

The Imperial Censor was in charge of all maps, laws, and household registers of the empire. All records of place names, household numbers, and territories of all prefectures, counties, circuits, townships, and pavilions nationwide were kept by the Imperial Censorate.

Feng Jie rapidly flipped through the government archives maps, county registers, and historical records of territorial surveys in his mind, searching repeatedly, but found no trace of the name "De'an".

"Your Majesty, I have never heard of this county before."

Upon hearing this, Ying Zheng merely glanced at him indifferently. His gaze seemed calm, yet it felt like a heavy weight slowly pressing down on Feng Jie's shoulder, causing his heart to tighten.

Feng Jie quickly added, "Your Majesty, most place names have changed over time. Once the strange celestial phenomena dissipate, I will immediately gather ancient and modern maps and old records of place name evolutions from various regions and compare and investigate them one by one to find this place."

Ying Zheng did not press further, and his gaze returned to the sky.

The bamboo scroll was displayed quietly in the showcase, soft light illuminating its yellowed edges. The voice was calm: "Let's wait until the curtain falls before we talk about it."

The words were left unsaid, but the deeper meaning was already clear.

Feng Jie bowed and returned to his place, his fingers, hidden in his sleeve, suddenly clenched, then slowly relaxed after a moment.

Ying Zheng's gaze returned to the sky, as if his question had never happened.

Li Si, standing to the side, noticed clearly that when His Majesty asked about De'an, his tone contained a rare hint of urgency, a sentiment rarely revealed in court.

The woman named Song Ye had already taken root in the emperor's heart, and her importance was growing day by day.

Above the sky, Sweetie had already walked to a transparent exhibit.

In the camera's view, an ancient bamboo slip in the cabinet is carefully sealed with a transparent film, its edges yellowed and worn.

Under the light, the natural texture of the bamboo slips is clearly visible.

The glass display cases reflected the figures of visitors coming and going; some bent over to read intently, while others took photos frantically with their phones.

This artifact is one of the most crucial written materials unearthed at the Song Dynasty Prime Minister's Mausoleum.

Interestingly, the characters on the bamboo slips were not carved with a knife, but written with a black ink. The characters were originally blurred and illegible, but through archaeological restoration and multispectral scanning, the entire text has been completely deciphered.

The woman leaned slightly forward, her fingertip lightly touching the inscription on the stone tablet beneath the display case: "[This is the first journal entry written by Song Xiang upon assuming office in De'an County, recording her observations and judgments about the local people's livelihood and governance.]"

This journal entry is short, but powerful.

Everyone: "?"

Song Ye, an elderly man on the subway looking at his phone: Is it possible that this is a diary?

How powerful was it? So powerful that when later scholars first read it, they thought it was a mistranslation.

The camera slowly pans down, focusing on the neatly arranged translated text at the bottom of the display case.

Incisive, straightforward, and unvarnished.

It's like someone sitting at a desk, writing without ever thinking that a second person will see it:

[Upon arriving in De'an, I was penniless.]

[The city walls were broken, the roads were in disrepair, and the faces of the people screamed with one word—survival.]

[Officials are in cahoots with the powerful and wealthy; the government granaries are so empty they could run horses across them, while the common people starve like ghosts.]

[The most harsh punishment is the system of collective punishment. If one person is convicted, the entire family is implicated; neighbors who know but fail to report it are also punished. The common people fear the government as if it were a ghost, and even those with grievances dare not petition.]

[This isn't about protecting the people; it's about treating ordinary people like thieves.]

[The common people are terrified of the government like they've seen a ghost; they dare not speak out against injustice or defend themselves. Is this what you call governing a country?]

[The laws are too harsh; ordinary people can't bear them.]

[What if you can't hold on? Either run away or rebel.]

[When things go wrong, they'll say the people are too difficult to deal with. -- Nonsense, if you push someone to the brink, they're bound to fight you to the death.]

[If you work hard, you'll be burdened with heavy taxes; if you sit idly, you'll starve to death. Both paths lead to certain death; who would be willing to exert themselves to make a living?]

[If this continues, man-made disasters will inevitably arise, even before natural calamities occur.]

[At that time, many people with nowhere else to turn will rise up in rebellion.]

The translated text was displayed quietly under the light. The sentences were short and sharp, without a single twist or embellishment, as if they were written without any intention of being understood, or as if the writer himself hadn't even considered whether he really wanted others to see them.

Song watched the translation with a completely expressionless face throughout.

This is a diary entry she wrote when she first arrived in Pei County.

At the time, I didn't know that this was the Qin Dynasty, so my comment was just a little bit sharp.

Yeah, just a little bit.

...

Meanwhile, the area in front of Xianyang Palace was as quiet as a stagnant pool.

"..."

They criticized the Qin laws, the system of collective punishment, and the collusion between officials and powerful families.

When they get ruthless, they even curse themselves.

The civil and military officials present were completely stunned, their minds buzzing, and they stood there dumbfounded for a long time, unable to react.

[How about that? Pretty awesome, right?]

This journal entry was later included in "The Collected Works of Song Xiang," and Song himself annotated it in his later years: "The words spoken at the time were harsh, but not a single one was wrong."

So arrogant, so cocky.

Qin Shi Huang, Ying Zheng: "..."

Behind him, all the civil and military officials gasped in shock, thinking: "Does he have to be so disrespectful?"

The common people of the world were dumbfounded: Is this something that can be said?

...

Similarly, the reactions of the former nobles of the six states varied.

"His insults were quite accurate."

"It seems that this Prime Minister Song is reasonable and does not agree with the tyrannical rule of the Qin Dynasty."

"How long can a court that can't even keep its own people loyal last?"

This statement did not elicit any further agreement.

These former nobles of the six kingdoms wanted to laugh, and indeed they did.

But the laughter was blown away by the wind halfway through the air, making it sound rather strained.

Song also criticized the Qin Dynasty, his criticisms incisive and sharp.

But when it came to saving the Qin Dynasty, they were more ruthless than anyone else.

It's impossible to be happy when both of these things happen to the same person.

At this moment, everyone realized that Song was standing right in the middle, on the side of the people.

On the other side, inside a courtyard in Wuzhong.

Thirteen-year-old Xiang Yu squatted on the stone steps, clutching a dry twig in his hand, idly poking at the ants in the cracks in the ground.

Once the inscription had frozen in time, the young boy suddenly threw aside the withered branch and turned to look at Xiang Liang, who had remained silent all along: "Uncle, there is something I cannot understand."

Xiang Liang turned his head to look at the boy.

The boy's brows were furrowed with confusion, and a hint of resentment lingered beneath. He asked in a low voice, "Since she saw things so clearly, knew so much about the harshness of Qin law, and foresaw the inevitable collapse of Qin, why didn't she just overthrow the tyrannical Qin directly? Instead, she devoted all her efforts to prolonging Qin's life by a thousand years?"

He became increasingly self-righteous as he spoke: "She clearly saw through the root of Qin's problems, knew it was doomed sooner or later, yet she still tried to save it. Isn't this a contradiction?"

Xiang Liang stood still without answering.

But what he was really thinking was: What about the State of Chu?

If their former homeland was not even as good as the Qin Dynasty, shouldn't it have been even less worthy of existing?

"......"

"Uncle, why aren't you saying anything?" Xiang Yu pressed, his tone carrying the stubbornness typical of a young man.

He had no idea that his casual remark had pierced his uncle's fragile heart like a sharp blade.

Xiang Liang looked down at him, then raised his hand to press on the boy's shoulder, his voice hoarse: "What you just said has made your uncle think about some other things."

"What is it?"

"Some things... things that even Uncle himself hasn't figured out yet." Xiang Liang released his grip, turned to look at the sky, and spoke in a calm tone as if he were stating something that had nothing to do with him.

"You ask me why she didn't overthrow the tyrannical Qin Dynasty, but I, your uncle, will not answer that for her."

"But there's one thing you must remember, Ji'er—"

"It's easy to overthrow something; the hard part is how to rebuild it."