The low-key prince summons trainees from the Imperial Household Department at the start of the game.

Three days after the Awakening of Insects.

After the morning bell of the Great Bao'en Temple rang three times, the mountain gate had just opened when pilgrims began to climb the steps in twos and threes.

The monks in the temple greeted guests with their palms together, and the scent of incense mingled with the damp air of early spring, lingering in front of the main hall.

At the east end of the Sutra Repository is a small meditation room, bright and clean, with a cup of tea, a copy of the Surangama Sutra, and a well-worn copy of the Zuo Zhuan on the table.

The owner of the meditation room was a monk in his thirties, whose Dharma name was Daoyan. He had been staying at the temple for three years and spent his days either interpreting fortune sticks for worshippers or reading in seclusion.

The monks in the temple all said that this monk was extremely learned, but his personality was somewhat eccentric.

When he wasn't wearing a kasaya, he always liked to wear a faded black old monk's robe, which made him look more like a down-on-his-luck scholar than a monk from a distance.

At this moment, Daoyan was sitting by the window, holding a copy of "Zuo Zhuan" in his hand, but his eyes were not on the book.

He had a dream in the middle of the night last night.

There was no Buddha or Bodhisattva in the dream, only a voice.

The voice was neither hurried nor slow, neither joyful nor sorrowful, as if it had fallen from the highest and farthest heavens, piercing his skull and imprinting itself directly into the depths of his soul.

The voice told him three things.

First, in his previous life he was Yao Guangxiao, the chief architect of the Jingnan Campaign, the black-robed prime minister, and the top strategist under the Yongle Emperor.

Secondly, two other people were summoned here with him: Wang Anshi and Su Shi.

Their past lives' achievements, personalities, and fates were also instilled into his mind.

Third, the object of their loyalty during this lifetime was the ninth prince of the current dynasty, an eight-year-old child.

Daoyan put down his book, picked up his teacup, and took a sip.

The tea had gone cold, and the slightly bitter tea soup slid down his throat, completely waking him from the incredible dream he had just experienced the night before.

He knew, of course, how absurd it sounded to hear about a dream from a deity, but he also knew that the memories in his mind at that moment were absolutely true.

Wang Anshi's reforms aimed at strengthening the country, and Su Shi's magnanimity has been celebrated throughout the ages; these details could not have been fabricated by his own knowledge.

When he planned the Jingnan Campaign in his previous life, he relied on finding the most crucial thread in the chaotic situation.

At this moment, he only had two threads in his hand: First, the immortals existed, and that dream was real.

Secondly, he was to serve the Ninth Prince for the rest of his life.

As for what kind of person the Ninth Prince is, whether he is worthy of loyalty, and how their relationship as ruler and subject should begin.

These are not things we should be thinking about right now.

Right now, there's only one thing to think about: next year's imperial examination.

Daoyan stood up, walked to the window, and pushed open the wooden window.

The chill of early spring was in the air, and the old plum tree in the Zen temple was shedding its blossoms, the petals carpeting the ground, untouched by anyone.

He gazed at the fallen flowers covering the ground, a barely perceptible smile appearing on his lips.

In his previous life, he plotted to conquer the world as a monk. In this life, the immortals have also given him an almost identical identity: a monk staying at the Great Bao'en Temple.

He certainly wouldn't be a monk for life, but this monk's robe was an excellent cover for him.

The Great Bao'en Temple was a royal temple of the Great Zhou Dynasty, and high-ranking officials and nobles often came to offer incense and worship Buddha. Under the guise of interpreting divination slips, he had already made friends with several officials in the court.

Although their ranks were not high, news from official circles kept flowing in.

With this information, he could get a clear picture of the basic structure of the Great Zhou officialdom in advance, so as to make arrangements for his future entry into the court.

As he was lost in thought, light footsteps sounded outside the meditation room, accompanied by a clear voice: "Senior Brother Daoyan! Senior Brother Daoyan! The peach blossoms on the back mountain are in bloom, come on, come on, let's go take a look!"

Dao Yan turned around.

Standing at the entrance was a young scholar in his early twenties, dressed in a simple blue robe, holding a folding fan, with a smile that was three parts unrestrained and seven parts carefree. He was none other than Su Shi, a traveling scholar who was staying at the temple.

Accompanying him was another young man, dressed in a gray cloth robe, with a thin face, a solemn expression, and an air of scholarly refinement about studying hard.

Wang Anshi, a private tutor in Wangjiazhuang, a suburb of Beijing.

Dao Yan looked at the two young men at the door and couldn't help but feel a little emotional.

The immortal's decision to gather the three of us together was indeed a brilliant move.

This Great Bao'en Temple was their starting point.

The peach blossoms are indeed in bloom.

The peach orchard on the hillside behind the mountain was in full bloom, its branches laden with pink and white blossoms. A mountain breeze would blow, and the petals would flutter down, landing on the three people's shoulders, sleeves, and hair.

Su Shi walked at the front, reciting poems as he went. When the mood struck him, he would unfold his folding fan and scatter the petals that drifted in front of him.

Wang Anshi walked at the back, his expression still stern, seemingly oblivious to the beautiful peach blossoms in front of him. However, while deep in thought, he almost bumped into a crooked old pine tree.

Dao Yan walked in the middle, unhurriedly, occasionally reaching out to catch a fallen petal, examining it for a moment before gently flicking it away.

Walking into a stone pavilion deep in the peach grove, Su Shi took a big gulp of wine from the gourd at his waist, sighed contentedly, then turned to look at Daoyan and Wang Anshi and suddenly laughed.

He pointed at Daoyan, then at Wang Anshi, and finally at himself, lowering his voice as he said, "We've been given a second chance at life, and the immortals arranged for us to be together—surely not just to admire flowers, are they?"

The atmosphere in the stone pavilion changed immediately upon hearing this.

The peach blossoms were still falling, and the mountain wind was still blowing, but the three of them no longer had the leisurely look they had just had. They now had a hint of the sharpness and composure they had gained from their experiences in the court and on the battlefield in their previous lives.

Wang Anshi spoke first, looking directly at Su Shi: "The immortal appeared to me in a dream and, besides the two of you, mentioned something else: our master is the ninth prince of the current dynasty."

"Eight years old," Dao Yan added unhurriedly, gently placing the flower petals in his hand on the stone table. "The youngest of the seventeen princes in the three hundred years since the founding of the Great Zhou Dynasty."

"No maternal lineage, no teacher, no wife's family—a typical 'three-no' prince."

"He lived in a side hall, and his daily routine consisted of paying his respects to the Empress and reading and writing. It is said that he was timid and would bow his head whenever he saw someone."

He spoke these words in a calm tone, as if reciting a scripture. However, Wang Anshi noticed that when Daoyan said the six words "no maternal clan, no teacher, no wife's clan,"

He tapped his knuckles three times lightly on the stone table, the rhythm firm, not as if he were stating a disadvantage, but as if he were taking stock of a treasure that had been overlooked.

Su Shi put away his folding fan, tapped it in his palm, and the playful and angry expression on his face had largely disappeared.

He pondered for a moment, then suddenly laughed: "Having no maternal clan means there are no relatives to restrain you; having no teacher means there are no powerful clans to carry on your legacy; having no wife means there are no vested interests to bind you."

"Don't you think this is more reassuring than those princes who are surrounded by powerful figures?"

Upon hearing this, Wang Anshi glanced at Su Shi, a hint of approval in his eyes.

In his previous life, when he presided over the Xining Reforms, the greatest resistance did not come from the people or the emperor, but from the deeply entrenched interest groups.

Relatives of the emperor, nobles, large landowners, and big merchants—every force was desperately trying to protect its vested interests, and any reforms that touched their interests would be met with a fierce backlash.

If a prince is surrounded by such forces from the very beginning, he will inevitably be held hostage after ascending the throne, unable to touch anyone he wants to touch, and unable to change anything he wants to change.

The fact that the Ninth Prince is surrounded by such clean and tidy people is indeed an excellent starting point.

"The immortal's meaning is very clear," Dao Yan spoke again, pushing the teacup towards the center of the stone table, as if placing a piece on a chessboard. "Next year's spring imperial examination is our gateway to the court."

"It would be best if all three were on the same list. If they cannot be on the same list, at least one of them should be in the top rank."

"Only after entering the court and establishing a firm foothold can one begin to plan for His Highness."

"But one thing needs to be made clear first: the relationship between the three of us and His Highness must be established naturally."

"There must be no trace of deliberate arrangement; it must withstand scrutiny and investigation by anyone."

Su Shi nodded in agreement: "Making friends through poetry and prose, through shared political views, and through compatible interests—this is the safest path."

Wang Anshi did not respond, but instead looked up at Daoyan with a calm and composed gaze. His tone was even more solemn than before: "You know my temperament. I am not good at being tactful and I disdain worldly affairs. I cannot handle the undercurrents and interpersonal relationships in the court."

He spoke frankly and openly, making no attempt to hide his shortcomings, then turned to Su Shi with a hint of a smile in his eyes, "For this matter, I can only rely on Brother Su."

When Su Shi was called out by name, he was first stunned, then he threw his head back and laughed loudly, which made the peach petals fall down in a flurry.

After he finished laughing, he pointed at Wang Anshi with the handle of his fan and said, "Alright, I'll be the bad guy, and you can be the good guy, okay?"

After saying that, he turned to look at Dao Yan, his eyes filled with a mischievous glint. "As for those worse, darker, and more shameful things, Senior Brother Dao Yan, you mustn't refuse."

Dao Yan smiled slightly, picked up a slightly wilted petal from the stone table, examined it in his palm for a moment, and then slowly closed his five fingers to gather the petal in his palm.

He didn't speak, but the other two knew what his gesture meant: he would take full responsibility for the hidden plans and schemes that couldn't be made public.

Wang Anshi was like a bulldozer, responsible for forcefully pushing down the old, outdated walls in the court, using irrefutable reasoning and iron-fisted methods to break the old order and allow the new policies to be implemented.

Su Shi was a star in the spotlight, responsible for influencing public opinion, winning over centrists, and shaping a positive image for their camp through his poetry, prose, and personal charisma.

Yao Guangxiao, on the other hand, was the hand hidden behind the scenes, responsible for setting up the game and manipulating the hidden threads in a corner where no one could see him.

Make decisions at critical moments that require someone to make but cannot be known to anyone else.

Outside the stone pavilion, the wind gradually stopped.

From deep within the peach grove came the deep, resonant tolling of the temple bells, signaling the start of evening prayers. One bell after another drew the three from their reverie.

Smoke was already rising from the temple at the foot of the mountain, and dusk was slowly creeping into the peach grove.

Su Shi was the first to stand up, straightened his blue robe which was covered with flower petals, and smiled at Wang Anshi and Daoyan, saying, "We'll see who comes out on the same list next spring. It would be best if we could be on the same list, but if not, we should at least make sure His Majesty remembers our names in the palace examination."

Dao Yan returned the greeting with his palms together. A peach blossom petal clung to the cuff of his monk's robe. He didn't flick it away; he simply looked at it and then tucked the petal into his sleeve.

With a hint of something only he knew, he intended to send this petal, exactly as it was, to the Ninth Prince's side hall after the results of the imperial examinations were announced next year.

Wang Anshi left neither flower petals nor poems behind. He simply took out a thin booklet from his sleeve, which was the outline of his policy essays that he had been compiling over the past few months, and handed it to Daoyan: "Take a look at it for me. If there's anything wrong, criticize it directly without holding back."

Dao Yan took the booklet, flipped through it, and nodded in agreement.