Nobita's Time Heist

……

After the explanation, Da Xiong couldn't help but swallow hard, realizing even more the trouble he had gotten himself into.

The problem lies in worldview!

In the American West of 1899, the reason he could launch into such a tirade against Dutch was largely due to his worldview. In that era, the world was becoming increasingly civilized, and Dutch van der Linde, who championed violence, was an anomaly, like a fish swimming against the current, each step fraught with difficulty. However, here, a savage, primitive environment was the norm, and he, with his civilized mindset, became an incongruous outcast.

Forget about empty talk; many of the things he says are simply wild fantasies. This was already proven during his confrontation with Liu Ran of Tongxin Village.

So... what should we do?

How do you start a conversation when everyone's eyes are on you?

“There’s no need for this.” After hesitating for a long time, Nobita sighed and decided to conform to the rules of this era. “Leave her arm… I will compensate you for your loss.”

The man glanced at him with suspicion, then realized he was being watched by so many people, and a surge of anger rose within him. "A mere traveling merchant dares to meddle in the affairs of a powerful family like the Shi clan? Do I look like..."

The moment the gold nugget was pulled out of the bag, words seemed superfluous.

The man's words seemed to be cut off by something, and he was immediately speechless. His eyes were fixed on the gold nugget in Da Xiong's hand, as if his soul had been stolen away. He swallowed hard, and his gaze towards Da Xiong became filled with suspicion and uncertainty.

The purity and shape of this gold ingot are top-grade, something ordinary traveling merchants could never produce. The fact that he could casually pull it out indicates that he is not of ordinary status, and is likely a supplier to a noble family in the capital. With such a background, I might not be able to afford to offend him.

But... if we just give in to his wishes, wouldn't that be a bit...

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"Just do as he says." A rather calm and slightly deep voice rang out from the crowd. "There's no harm in helping others."

Following the sound, the speaker in the silent crowd was an old man. His sideburns were somewhat gray, and his beard was thick, perfectly embodying the image of a carefree immortal from ancient times. He wore a simple linen robe, clean and neat from head to toe. His eyes were slightly narrowed, perhaps due to old age and failing eyesight, almost reduced to slits, making it impossible to see his gaze.

His willingness to stand up when everyone else remained silent and chose to observe set him apart from others.

Attracting everyone's attention, the white-haired old man seemed quite satisfied. He nodded slightly, stepped forward slowly, and advised, "No matter how valuable the inkstone is, it is still an inanimate object; no matter how lowly the servant is, he is still a living being. When the stable burned down, you left court and asked, 'Were any people hurt?' without asking about the horses."

"If this is true of humans compared to animals, how much more so compared to inanimate objects?"

Asur looked at him with some surprise, as if he had seen a ghost in broad daylight.

"What's wrong, Asur-chan? Why are you making such a strange face?" Shizuka seemed to have noticed something was off about her expression and asked, puzzled, "What a kind old man! Did you hear what he said? That's what a normal person thinks! Even a slave, a life, is more important than a piece of ink that can't speak!"

"It's precisely because he's so normal that I find him abnormal..."

The girl's gaze was fixed on the old man, and she asked suspiciously, "The social environment can generate a very powerful force. For example, the workplace culture of seniority and juniority is a kind of unspoken rule that everyone who enters society will unconsciously abide by. Just how strong must one's will be to resist this force?"

……

Being reprimanded like this by an unknown old man made the man grit his teeth in anger. If this were a private setting, perhaps he would have accepted Da Xiong's gold and the matter would have been over. But this was on the street, with so many onlookers, making the situation rather awkward.

However, before he could say anything, a nimble waiter rushed over and whispered something in his ear.

After just a few words, the man's face instantly turned from red to white, draining all color from his skin. His lips trembled, his once thunderous voice now unable to utter a single word. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to his knees with a thud, cold sweat pouring down his forehead like a waterfall. This rapid change left Da Xiong somewhat bewildered, so he could only laugh and try to smooth things over, saying, "Well, no need for that. Just accept the gold, consider it our..."

"No, no, no! You...you're so magnanimous, please don't hold it against me..." He almost kowtowed to the ground, his voice trembling. "The man is yours, but I can't accept the gold. Just take him as your leader. I...I'm a rough man, and if I've offended you in any way, I hope you can forgive me..."

From the man, Da Xiong sensed genuine fear. He was willing to adopt such a subservient posture to quickly sever ties with their group. This overwhelming fear sent chills down Da Xiong's spine—the man's attitude had changed so drastically in such a short time, demonstrating the extent of his terror.

Did he suddenly have a change of heart and become a good person? Obviously not.

So……

The crowd seemed to realize that things had changed, and they scattered very quickly, like crows that had caught a whiff of a storm.

Faced with this situation, the only one who could still laugh from the bottom of his heart was the old man with white hair and plain clothes.

He looked at the man who was prostrating himself before him, humbling himself to the lowest possible level, and smiled from the bottom of his heart.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

“Yes, yes, that’s right… As the saying goes, to err is human, to forgive divine.” He bent down and wrapped his arms around the injured girl’s waist. His seemingly thin arms were surprisingly strong as he lifted her up, murmuring, “Actually, everyone is the same.”

"Oh, right, would you like to come visit me at my house?"

The moment he turned his head, his half-closed eyes suddenly opened, shooting out two bright beams of light.

"This city hasn't had such interesting guests in a long time."

Chapter 190: Avant-garde or Retro?

The heavy, vermilion-lacquered gate slowly opened, and stepping inside revealed a completely different world. The gate, with its red beams, had lanterns above and benches below, along with offices and a manager's quarters. Beyond the main gate was a second gate, its four-panel screen painted green with gold flecks. The front read "Solemn and Upright," while the back read "Serious and Tidy." Entering the second gate, the courtyard, paved with square bricks, was incredibly spacious, almost indistinguishable from an open park; it was hard to believe this was a private residence.

The courtyard is filled with pairs of flowerpots, planted with plenty of pomegranate trees, tea-dust-colored fish tanks, and three-pronged, nine-topped oleanders. The main building has five rooms on the north side, with a front porch and a rear porch, east and west wing rooms, east and west auxiliary rooms, and east and west side rooms. The remaining five rooms serve as a reception room, creating a dazzling and colorful scene.

In ancient times, people placed great importance on feng shui, a concept reflected in many aspects of life. For example, when designing houses, they would make the rooms relatively small, rather than believing that the larger the space, the better. Smaller rooms embodied the feng shui principle of "gathering qi," helping to concentrate spiritual energy from all directions. However, the white-haired elder did not lead them into any of the rooms; for them, who had only known each other for less than half an hour, it was still too early to consider such a place.

Upon entering the main hall, a dark red, eighteen-foot-long table greets the eye. On it sits a Zun kiln vase, a Lang kiln jar, a tourmaline wine vessel, a coral bonsai, a bronze bell with a windmill, and a jade chime. At the center stands a large, two-foot-tall clock. Before the table is a rosewood altar table inlaid with stone and adorned with mother-of-pearl, and a pair of rosewood armchairs. On the table are the Four Treasures of the Study: a Duan inkstone, a Huzhou brush, Xuan paper, and Huizhou ink—all exquisitely crafted items, priceless treasures.

If you still can't guess who the other party is at this point, you'd be too slow-witted.

Several well-dressed young women carried in hot tea. As they crossed the threshold, they didn't even look up, simply setting down the tea with practiced ease and carrying the girl with the bleeding forehead out. Only then did Huang Amao realize that they were servants of this mansion, even though their clothes were better than those of most ordinary people!

"You are..."

"They've all come into my house, so who else could I be?" He smiled and nodded to Da Xiong and the others, then said in a deep voice, "I am not very talented, but before Your Majesty is old enough to distinguish right from wrong and has come of age, I will temporarily take over the affairs of state and act as regent. People call me the fake emperor."

"..." Huang Amao trembled, this was the deep-seated awe of officialdom ingrained in the people's genes.

Once a person becomes an official, they are no longer seen as a human being, but as a supreme god, whose every word and action has the power to influence the lives of ordinary people. Wang Mang's current position has reached, and even surpassed, the theoretically highest point that an "official" can achieve. Although he has not yet displayed much of the aura of power, his words and smiles still make people feel intimidated.

"You're not from this country, are you?" His gaze swept across the spacious table, a hint of displeasure flashing in his eyes. He stretched out his arm and rotated a jade square cup about fifteen degrees to the right until it was aligned with the other companions. Only then did the displeasure in his eyes fade. "I suppose... you're princes from some small kingdom in the Western Regions?"

"??"

Da Xiong didn't know how he came to this conclusion, but he caught the slight look of confusion on his face and explained with a smile, "If you want to play the role of a merchant from the Western Regions, you shouldn't bring out gold of such high quality. Ordinary people don't have the ability to make that kind of thing."

He picked up the cup, lifted the lid, and first used the rising steam to moisten his eyes. Perhaps it was due to his advanced age, but his eyes were a little dry.

"Actually, it doesn't matter where you're from. Let's get straight to the point. I just want to ask you a question..."

He took a sip of tea, and his eyes, which had been half-closed, opened at that moment, scanning Da Xiong's face, not wanting to miss a single micro-expression.

“That girl is probably not related to you. In our country, every family has its own rules. She broke the master's inkstone. If the rules are strict, the punishment of having both hands cut off is inevitable. In fact, before you spoke up, no one would have stopped that servant.”

"Did you choose to save her because you had too much gold and couldn't possibly spend it all?"

……

"Gudu..."

Da Xiong quickly swallowed the tea in his mouth, but because he swallowed too fast, it burned his throat. However, he couldn't appear to be in pain in this situation, so he took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down, while quickly organizing his thoughts to answer the question.

how to say?

It's hard to imagine that someone from two thousand years ago would ask such a profound question. It seems like an inquiry, but in reality, it's an examination of the underlying logic of one's own thought process. Facing this extremely shrewd old man, Da Xiong took a deep breath and said as calmly as possible, "You might not believe it, but at the time... I wasn't thinking about anything."

Wang Mang raised his white eyebrows, remaining silent and gesturing for him to continue.

"She did do something wrong, but according to her, she was knocked down by a horse, which caused her to lose her grip on the ink. If that's true, then it can't be said to be her fault—how could a small, thin girl withstand the impact of a horse? Let alone her, what would happen if you or I were suddenly knocked down by a horse?"

Wang Mang suddenly smiled like a kind old man you could see anywhere, and replied, "Then my old bones will probably fall apart too."

"Of course, it's also possible that she said that on purpose to shirk responsibility... That's why the next step should be to verify whether what she said is true. There's a good chance that it won't be verified, but even so, her arm shouldn't be cut off as compensation! Putting aside what would happen after excessive blood loss, even if she barely survived, how would a person without arms survive in the future?!"

"To be honest, I was quite mischievous when I was a kid. I often played pranks, causing chaos throughout the whole town..."

At this point, Nobita scratched his head sheepishly, “Every time I get into trouble, I always end up being punished. Sometimes it’s my mom, sometimes it’s my teacher, sometimes… but no matter what, the purpose of the punishment is to prevent me from making the same mistake again, and to help me become a better person.”

“Cutting off her arms is not a ‘punishment’ at all; it’s just an irresponsible act of venting anger! People are not objects…Everyone has their own thoughts and should not be treated as ‘objects’ and disposed of at will. That is wrong.”

"Whether they are slaves or nobles, their original origin is nothing more than their mother's womb. I think that before birth, there is no distinction between noble and lowly."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Wang Mang gave him a deep look, pondered for a moment, and asked, "Young man, what is your name?"

"Well...Nobita, Nobi Nobita."

It seems that Wang Mang arbitrarily added the "Western Regions people" label to them. He did not object to the name, as there were many other strange and unusual names in the Western Regions.

"Nobita, I have a question for you. What do you think..."

His eyes slowly opened, and what lay behind his gaze was something profound and unfathomable.

Should 'slaves' really exist?

Chapter 191: The Ideal State

"..."

The question came too suddenly, and the four of them looked at each other in bewilderment. Even Asur, who was usually the calmest, showed a brief look of confusion.

There is a saying that goes, "There are only individuals who betray their class, not classes that betray their class."

Wang Mang's sudden remark left them utterly bewildered. For a moment, Da Xiong even wondered if he, like himself, was a time traveler from the future.

Only time travelers would passionately advocate for the abolition of slavery, because in their world, the concept of "slaves" simply doesn't exist. The idea of ​​equality for all, a modern concept, is deeply ingrained in their minds, serving as one of the fundamental principles guiding their actions.

but……

As someone born and raised in ancient times, and born into a powerful family, how could you possibly have such a question that seems so out of place in the world? There are countless slaves and slave owners in this world, and neither side has ever considered whether "slaves" should exist. Why is it that you, of all people, have thought of this?

Nobita couldn't understand.

The old man before him became even more unfathomable in his eyes.

"You, you mean..."

Huang Amao, however, was so excited that he couldn't contain himself, as if he had met an idol. He mustered up his courage and joined their conversation, "Do you also think that the issue of slavery is unreasonable?"

Wang Mang squinted and took a serious look at the excited young man for the first time. After a long while, he nodded slightly.

"In the imperial court, it has long been common for officials to keep their own servants. These servants are called maids, servants, or concubines. There are also markets for slaves, who are kept in the same pen as cattle and horses. What you see today is actually happening every moment in the corners you cannot see."

He sighed, “Our dynasty has its own laws that prohibit the private killing of slaves, but… looking at the entire empire, the number of government-owned and private slaves has probably already exceeded one million (in fact, the number of slaves during the Han Dynasty should be between two and five million, while the population at its peak during the Han Dynasty was only over fifty million, so such a number of slaves is indeed very large). Even if there are laws, where can we find so many people to supervise them?”

"Just like today, even in a busy city, if a girl makes a mistake, she can just cut off her hand without anyone stopping her."

"He has no conscience..." Shizuka couldn't help but mutter under her breath.

“It has nothing to do with conscience, Shizuka.” Asur sighed helplessly. Ever since her disguise was half exposed, she no longer hid her talents and occasionally expressed some very sharp opinions. “Most of the people who have the means to wander around the gate of the Prince’s Mansion are not wealthy young men or officials. They must also keep slaves at home. In other words, they are actually on the same side as the person who made the move.”

"But you must despise this, right?! I know... people in the village have talked about it too. Some people were forcibly abducted. If a family's children were even slightly attractive, they would be bought and sold at will to become servants in other people's homes. They don't treat us like human beings at all!" Huang Amao's eyes flashed with undisguised admiration and longing. "Can you... really abolish slavery?"

The young boy, still so young, had no idea what his plea meant.

He simply believed that the old man before him was a once-in-a-millennium good person. And to make matters worse, the old man held a high position and wielded unimaginable power. For a commoner like himself to have the opportunity to meet such a person face-to-face… such an opportunity probably only comes once in a lifetime, and he had to cherish it!

All he wanted was a world where his younger sister wouldn't have to work like a slave for others.

……

“Not yet.” Wang Mang smiled kindly at him and said calmly, “If I were the real emperor…”

"That's fine."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Upon hearing this, Huang Amao was instinctively stunned, then shivered and immediately shut his mouth, remaining silent.

Even if he were naive, he realized that this was definitely not a topic for ordinary people like himself to discuss. For him, the Han Dynasty had lasted for 200 years, and the last dynastic change was practically a story. Even if Wang Mang was currently at the height of his power and indeed showed signs of this, he dared not say anything.

However, Da Xiong and the others, being outsiders, were not subject to this restriction. He simply felt that all of the old man's previous motives now seemed to have an answer.

"You want to be the emperor?"

……

“You should know that no matter what my answer is, once this question is asked, you won’t be able to leave the Prince’s residence for a period of time, right?” Wang Mang said with a smile.

"Will you kill us?" Asur asked without changing his expression, "to prevent the news from leaking out?"

"Of course not. I will treat you well and regard you as honored guests."

Wang Mang's smile deepened. Facing four outsiders, he displayed a side of himself that he would never show in front of his ministers and officials.

"I think."

He turned around, and his seemingly frail body cast a huge shadow on the wall, like a ferocious monster.

"The Han dynasty has lasted for two hundred years... During this time, many things have happened, and many problems have become so deeply entrenched that they are difficult to reverse. Even if I wanted to change it, I could only change one or two tenths of it if I devoted my entire life to it. To make sweeping changes, one must have power... enough power to overturn everything and start anew. I make no attempt to hide my desire for this power from you."

"When I was young, my father and brothers passed away one after another, and I had to live with my uncles. Ah... If you count on your fingers, the Wang family can be considered a powerful maternal relatives family that held sway over the court. Nine members of the family were ennobled, and five of them served as Grand Marshals."

"Many members of the clan are generals and marquises, living extravagantly, indulging in sensual pleasures, competing with each other, and keeping countless servants!"

"But, being from a side branch of the family, I naturally wouldn't receive such treatment. From a young age, I knew that I couldn't rely on anyone. To seize opportunities, I could only truly depend on myself. I served my mother and widowed sister-in-law, raised my brother's orphaned child, and did everything I could to appear perfect in the eyes of outsiders. Even as I rose through the ranks and held a high position, I remained constantly vigilant. I distributed most of the salary I earned in my early years to my retainers and servants."

“Young man, do you think... how did I acquire my good reputation? It was built up little by little, year after year. That's why when I was in trouble, so many people flocked to the capital to petition for my innocence. When the momentum reached a certain level, even the emperor could not ignore this force and had to ask me to return.”