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

The 10th day of the fourth month in the 23rd year of Yonghe.

The tea in the Censorate's duty room had gone cold three times.

Pei Du sat behind his desk, with Wang Anshi's copy of the imperial examination essay spread out in front of him, and several daily proofreading records transferred from the Hanlin Academy beside him.

He never judged people based on a single article, but rather on what they did and how they did it after entering officialdom.

News came from the Hanlin Academy that Wang Anshi, who had been in the academy for less than a month, had already thoroughly examined all the historical records of land taxes in the academy's collection.

He even drew a sketch of the distribution of farmland in the suburbs of Beijing, marking the corresponding relationships between floods and droughts and tax reductions over the years.

These tasks weren't assigned by anyone; he found them out and did them himself.

Pei Du put down the copy of the policy essay, picked up his cool tea and took a sip.

Outside the window, spring rain pattered softly on the banana leaves.

He recalled his youth in the Hanlin Academy.

He was also unsociable, buried in old books, and was called "eccentric" by others.

He suddenly asked the old servant standing beside him, "Has anyone been visiting the Wang family lately?"

The old servant bowed and replied, "Your Excellency, the people from the Hanlin Academy said that Editor Wang hardly leaves his office except when he goes to the Ministry of Revenue to retrieve files. However, Vice Minister Zhou from the Ministry of Rites sent someone to deliver an inkstone to him a few days ago."

"Zhou Bangyan?" Pei Du's eyebrows twitched slightly.

Zhou Bangyan was a student of Kong Yan. When he sent the inkstone to Wang Anshi, it was most likely to be Kong Yan's way of testing the waters.

Kong Yan has already taken Su Shi under his wing, does he also want to bring Wang Anshi under his control?

Pei Du put down his teacup, tapped his fingers lightly three times on the table, and then stood up.

"Prepare the sedan chair; we're going to the Hanlin Academy."

When Pei Du entered the Hanlin Academy, several young editors were gathered together in the corridor discussing something.

When they looked up and saw him, they were first taken aback, then bowed in unison, their voices filled with disbelief and nervousness.

Pei Du nodded slightly, walked through the corridor without looking to the side, and headed straight for Wang Anshi's duty room.

He walked to the half-open door, raised his hand and knocked. When he pushed the door open and went in, Wang Anshi was bent over his desk, flipping through a stack of yellowed files.

He was writing something down quickly on the paper with his right hand, completely unaware that the water in his teacup had long since gone cold.

Upon hearing footsteps, Wang Anshi looked up, paused for a moment, then quickly put down his pen, stood up, and bowed.

"Minister Pei." His voice carried obvious surprise, but his manners remained impeccable.

Pei Du waved his hand, indicating that he didn't need to be so polite, and glanced at his desk piled high with files.

On the corner of the desk was a hand-drawn map of the distribution of farmland in the suburbs of Beijing, the ink still fresh, with several densely packed data tables pressed down next to it.

He sat down in the chair opposite Wang Anshi and, without beating around the bush, asked directly: "Compiler Wang has been in the Hanlin Academy for less than a month, yet he has already gone through the entire collection of land tax archives."

"In my years in the Censorate, I've read countless memorials impeaching corruption in land taxation, but only one or two out of ten could actually provide specific data. Did you draw that map of the land distribution in the suburbs of Beijing yourself?"

Wang Anshi stood respectfully before the desk, nodded slightly, and said, "Yes, I taught at a private school in Wangjiazhuang, a suburb of the capital, for several years and have some understanding of the land there. After entering the Hanlin Academy, I supplemented the records and finally completed the whole drawing."

"Why are you so obsessed with land taxes?" Pei Du looked into his eyes.

Wang Anshi was silent for a moment, then raised his head and looked directly into Pei Du's eyes.

In his previous life, he had seen countless scrutinizing eyes during the Xining Reforms.

Some were skeptical, some were hostile, and some were waiting to see him make a fool of himself.

Pei Du's gaze was different; it was a scrutinizing gaze, not one of finding fault, but one of seeking answers.

"I dare to speak frankly." His voice was not loud, but every word was steady and clear, "The Great Zhou Dynasty has been established for three hundred years, and the abuses of land tax have penetrated to the bone marrow."

"Land consolidation became increasingly rampant, powerful families hid their land holdings, the tax base shrank, and the poor became even more impoverished."

"This is not a problem confined to one county or prefecture; it is a chronic disease that affects the entire country."

"If this is not addressed soon, and it continues for another twenty years, the country will have no taxes to collect and the army will have no food to feed."

"When I was teaching in the village school, I often told my students that studying was for the purpose of gaining knowledge and understanding, and also for the purpose of being able to do practical things in the future. If I had the opportunity to do practical things and stood idly by, I would not be worthy to stand in this Hanlin Academy."

Pei Du listened quietly, his fingertips unconsciously tapping his knees.

When Wang Anshi said those words, every single one carried weight.

It wasn't because of its passionate rhetoric, but because not a single word was superfluous.

He served as the Censor-in-Chief for twelve years and had seen far too many impeachment memorials.

Those who wrote those memorials were passionate and eloquent, but they became clueless when asked about specific data.

This Wang Anshi is different.

Every one of his arguments is supported by data, and every one of his data can withstand scrutiny.

This way of speaking reminded Pei Du of the memorial submitted by Wang You'an, a famous minister of the previous dynasty, Daqian.

Wang Youan never quoted classical texts when writing memorials; he only presented facts and data. No one in the court could argue with him because every word he said was verifiable.

His silence lasted longer than Wang Anshi had expected, and his gaze never left his face.

Then he spoke, his tone not gentle, even somewhat cold, but his question made Wang Anshi's heart skip a beat: "Editor Wang, you come from a humble background and have no connections in the court."

"The number of people you offended with that policy essay could line up all along Chessboard Street. Where do you get the confidence to think you can push through reforms?"

Wang Anshi's Adam's apple bobbed slightly.

This sentence is his Achilles' heel.

In his previous life, the biggest obstacle to his reforms was not the emperor's lack of support, but the frenzied backlash from the vested interests of the entire court.

Those people cursed him as a stubborn prime minister in the court, resisted his Green Sprouts Law in the localities, and overturned the new laws one by one after he was dismissed from his post.

He knew better than anyone the consequences of offending people.

But when he looked up, his eyes showed no sign of backing down; instead, they were even more determined than before.

"Reporting to Vice Minister Pei, this humble official has no roots or foundation, nor any powerful backer."

His voice was calm and frank, "But I said something else to my students at the village school."

"Do the right thing, don't ask whether it will succeed, just ask whether it should be done."

"If I were to never do this job, I would live a peaceful life. But how many more years can the land tax system of the Great Zhou Dynasty last? One day someone will have to take over, and I am willing to be that person."

He paused, his tone suddenly becoming somewhat low, carrying a rare hint of self-deprecation and感慨, "Of course, this humble official also needs someone to lend a hand."

"But the kind of support I seek is not someone who will shield me from harm, but someone who can tell me which blows I shouldn't take and which I should dodge."

"Some say that I am too straightforward and stubborn and need someone to guide me. I don't know if Vice Minister Pei is willing to give me guidance."

Pei Du looked at Wang Anshi.

The spring rain outside the window is getting heavier, and the sound of it hitting the banana leaves is getting louder and louder.

He suddenly remembered his elder brother, Pei Kuan.

When Pei Kuan retired from his position as Minister of the Six Ministries, he patted him on the shoulder and sighed.

Both brothers served as officials in the court for half their lives. His principle as an official was never to use his power to open doors for the Pei family members. But what he feared most was that the Pei family would have no successors after his death. It wasn't that he was afraid of not having any sons to become officials, but that he was afraid of not having any sons who could shoulder the responsibility of the Great Zhou Dynasty.

After he left, Pei Du was the only one in the court who could bring glory to the Pei family.

Pei Kuan said he had been arrogant his whole life, refusing to even take a disciple as his last disciple. Did he really want to take those eyes to his grave?

Pei Du did not answer at the time.

He refocused his gaze on the young man in front of him.

Wang Anshi had a stubborn streak, but this stubbornness was not the arrogance of being obstinate. Rather, it was the kind of stubbornness that knew there was a wall ahead but still wanted to hit it, and after hitting it, would look back and think about whether it was time to change course.

This stubbornness is precisely the quality he admires most.

Pei Du finally spoke again, his voice still serious as always, but his tone was less cold and more warm.

"Do you know how many times I've seen censors impeach others during my twelve years in the Censorate?"

"The impeachment memorials submitted by those people were full of classical allusions and lengthy, vividly depicting the despicable character and wicked intentions of the accused."

"But when I asked them, how much exactly did this person embezzle? Who handled it? When and where did it happen? Half of the censors couldn't answer."

"When I recruit people, I don't look at their background or their lineage. I only look at two words: evidence." He stood up, looked down at Wang Anshi, and said, "You spent two months of your spare time hand-drawing a map of the farmland distribution in the suburbs of Beijing, marking the corresponding relationships between floods and droughts and tax reductions over the years. Every piece of data is verifiable. That is evidence."

"I ask you, are you willing to come to the Censorate and do a few practical things with me?"

Wang Anshi was startled, and then he lifted his robe and knelt down properly.

He didn't utter any of those polite words of gratitude, but simply replied with three words in an extremely respectful yet unobtrusive tone: "This humble official is willing."

Pei Du bent down and helped him up, a rare smile appearing on his chiseled face.

"Very well, from this day forward, you are my disciple. I will not give you an empty title, but only two things."

"The Censorate's case file archive, and my own eyes. The case file archive contains impeachment cases submitted by various prefectures and counties across the country. You need to find evidence, patterns, and loopholes from them. If you want to promote reform, you must first thoroughly understand the ills of the country on paper."

"These eyes are the result of my years of studying memorials to the emperor. I can spot any falsehoods or manipulations at a glance."

"You can learn from me, and how long you learn depends on your own destiny." After Pei Du finished speaking, he turned and walked to the door. He paused slightly, but did not turn back. His voice was low and solemn. "By the way, I also want you to remember one thing: the censors of the Censorate can offend the whole world, but they cannot offend their own conscience."

Wang Anshi stood there watching the slender figure disappear at the end of the corridor.

The rain outside had stopped sometime ago, and a ray of sunlight peeked through the clouds, shining on the few new bamboo stalks in the courtyard that were glistening from the rain.

He glanced down at the map of farmland distribution in the suburbs of Beijing on the table, the ink still wet.

Then I turned my gaze to the few new bamboo shoots outside the window, which were glistening after being washed by the spring rain.

A faint smile, one that only he himself knew, appeared on his angular face.