Nobita's Time Heist

"Power, money, and powerful backers—although we are all descendants of the prestigious Wang family, I have almost never enjoyed these things since I was born. I cannot choose who stands on my side; I can only rely on constantly winning them over and using their strength to get to where I am today."

"But you are different."

He finally raised his head, and a fervent and clear emotion flashed in his hawk-like eyes.

“You… were my own choice. Despite your lowly status, despite knowing there would be no reward for saving her, you still stepped forward. I saw you standing there, so out of place in this ailing era, and in that one glance I knew… you were exactly the person I needed!”

……

Whenever I learn that I have been chosen, a strange sense of mission arises within me.

Although before this, he had always been chosen as a "savior," and no one had ever invited him to build an ideal country together like Wang Mang. This recognition of his character gave him a strange feeling, and Da Xiong unconsciously began to replay the situation in his mind: if he hadn't come to this era, wouldn't it have been a natural thing for Wang Mang to seize the throne with his current power?

This is the emperor's throne, not a lollipop in a child's hand. Do they really expect this two-year-old emperor, who can't even speak properly, to govern such a vast country?

This is undoubtedly unrealistic. In other words, Wang Mang's usurpation of power was already a historical "destiny," and it would happen regardless of whether one intervened or not. Looking across the court and the country, there was no one more suitable than him to do this.

Do you want to create a better world...?

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.

"That being said, even now that we've come this far, there will still be people who oppose me..."

"Huh? Really?" Nobita was a little surprised. "So many people are petitioning for you right now?"

“My aunt, the current Empress Dowager.” Wang Mang rubbed his knees, and like a true old man, he rose, supporting himself on the edge of the table, and sighed, “But, there’s nothing we can do about it. My aunt has been in the palace for too long, and she’s lost her senses. She always feels that the world rightfully belongs to the Liu family, and compared to the Wang family, she seems more like someone from the royal family… cough… cough cough cough…”

He suddenly clutched his chest and began to cough violently.

By now, Nobita had encountered quite a few cases of tuberculosis, and he instinctively tensed up. In this era, even a minor illness could lead to death. Due to the widespread lack of medical resources, this was the only aspect in which emperors and commoners were no different.

"Are you OK?"

"Ugh...cough cough...no, it's nothing...after all, I'm getting old, I don't have the strength to sit for too long."

He sighed deeply and said with a wry smile, "Don't worry about me."

"I will absolutely, positively not die until I have finished what I need to do!"

Chapter 195: Death's Invitation

The scene before her reminded Shizuka of an old movie, "The Last Emperor," which was shown in a film appreciation class. The Empress Dowager's grim, dying face at the beginning of the film left a deep impression on her. Especially the moment when a bead was stuffed into her mouth with a click, an indescribably eerie sound, which frightened some of the timid girls in the class to tears.

Not far away, the old woman lying on the large bed looked almost exactly like the one in the movie. The room was lit with the finest incense, just to mask the putrid smell emanating from her—Death's favorite perfume. Even though she enjoyed the highest level of respect for women in this country, when Death came knocking, she was nothing more than an old woman.

"This is the Empress Dowager... In this era, she must be considered extremely old, right?"

Asur hid behind Shizuka, watching from afar as a large group of maids helped the old lady up from the bed, supporting her by the back. An unpleasant odor wafted from the bedding. The maids began, as usual, to change her clothes and blankets, revealing her seemingly withered body, which sent a chill down Shizuka's spine.

To become Empress Dowager means that she was chosen by the emperor in her youth, right? Her appearance and figure were definitely up to par. But now, from a distance, all that can be seen is a hunched, thin body and long, gray-white hair that is no longer smooth and silky, like withered grass. She doesn't seem to be lucid most of the time, more like a puppet being manipulated by others.

"I heard she's over eighty years old this year. When the last emperor died, it was thanks to her quick stepping forward to take charge and cooperate with Wang Mang from within that they were able to successfully reclaim all power." Asur whispered in Jingxiang's ear, filling in the gaps in her historical knowledge. "She was so decisive back then, but in just a few years, her health has rapidly declined, and she's become like this now, needing others to take care of her even for basic needs like food, clothing, and shelter..."

"It is said that when Wang Mang returned here from a state of resignation, his first request was not to have his official position and power restored, but to serve his aunt. This became a popular story, and people believed that his emphasis on etiquette and morality far exceeded his desire for power."

"You mean..." Shizuka was secretly startled by her words.

“No, no, this is the only thing that shouldn’t have anything to do with him.” Asur guessed what Shizuka was thinking and shook his head. “The old lady is already seventy-nine years old. Even in Japan, a society with an aging population, that’s considered quite old, isn’t it? Ancient medicine wasn’t advanced, so it’s only natural that she’s getting senile. Besides, her identity has always been that of an ‘Empress Dowager,’ someone who manages the inner palace. She has too many things to worry about, so it was only a matter of time before she became like this.”

"Time..." Shizuka murmured, looking at the old woman lying on the bed not far away, her mouth being forcibly pried open by a maid as she was fed porridge spoonful by spoonful.

As if she had made up her mind, she silently encouraged herself, took a step forward, and transcended the heavy atmosphere that pervaded the room. Amidst the astonished gazes of the maids, she walked to the old lady's bedside and, without saying a word, snatched the jade pendant from their hands.

A foul, bloody smell wafted out.

"what is this?"

Shocked, Shizuka even forgot her anger and looked at the copper pot full of blood, demanding, "What did you feed her?!"

"You, you mere maid, how dare you do such a thing..."

The matter was of great importance. When Shizuka wasn't smiling, her eyes were frightening enough. A young maid, thinking she had done something wrong, said in a trembling voice, "It's...it's deer blood. The Empress Dowager is weak, and she needs...she needs extra nourishment to prolong her life."

“She’s already so weak, and you still give her the blood of this animal…” Shizuka reached out and checked Wang Zhengjun’s breath—the most noble mother of the nation, in this situation, was just an ordinary old woman.

"go out."

"Everyone, get out!"

The fact that the two women were maids personally arranged by Wang Mang had already spread throughout the palace. Those with a quick mind didn't hesitate to push open the door and leave—whatever happened next was now an internal matter for the Wang family.

At times like these, the farther away from the center of the incident, the better. Even if something really happens in the end, it's a matter between the aunt and nephew. To put it bluntly, servants like them have lives as fragile as paper in the deep palace. Why would they have the mind to get involved in a struggle of this level?

Once quiet settled in, the room felt unsettlingly empty. The enormous bed, contrasted sharply with the hunched figure, created a somber atmosphere. Shizuka first extinguished the ubiquitous incense with water, then deliberately opened the window to ventilate the stuffy room. The moment she opened the window, the dust accumulated on the windowsill billowed up, making her cough repeatedly.

"Honestly, it's been so long since we've had any ventilation. No wonder the air is so stuffy. This won't do!"

After muttering a few words, Shizuka supported the old lady's head, propped her up with pillows, and took out a stethoscope from the medical kit, placing it on the old lady's wrinkled and age-spotted forehead.

She felt like a terrifying old woman from an urban legend... Asur thought to herself, without actually saying it aloud.

"Diagnosis: Natural organ failure due to aging, with mild metal poisoning detected. At this stage, it is not advisable to feed the elderly with foods that are too rich in nutrients. It is recommended to eat a light diet, with small, frequent meals to regulate the body, supplemented by appropriate exercise. The nutritious porridge prepared by this machine can be used, which contains all the nutrients the human body needs."

Ding dong!

A steaming bowl of porridge popped out of the medical kit; it was hard to believe that it was actually a legitimate medicine.

"I see, so it's about dietary supplements?" Asur seemed to recall something. "Indeed, this method will be very popular in the future."

Shizuka asked, puzzled, "Then, what is this metal poisoning...?"

"It's about elixirs. One of the ancient Eastern mystical arts is the refining of elixirs. If the raw materials contain mercury or similar substances, it can easily lead to mercury poisoning. Many emperors, seeking the path to immortality, took elixirs refined by alchemists, and ultimately died from metal poisoning."

As they chatted, Shizuka gently blew on the edge of the hot porridge until it was cool enough to drink. She then scooped up a little and lightly touched the old woman's lips. Strangely enough, the faint herbal fragrance caused the lips, which had previously needed to be pried open, to open willingly, and the old woman drank some. Seeing that the nutritious porridge was indeed so effective, Shizuka was overjoyed and quickly fed her more. When the old woman had drunk half of the porridge, she was able to sit up on her own and hold the bowl in her hands.

He slowly opened his tightly closed eyes and saw Shizuka and Asur.

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.

"An unfamiliar face... I've never seen one like this before..."

She craned her neck with some difficulty and asked in a hoarse voice, "Did my 'good' nephew send the two of you?"

"Ha...he probably thinks I haven't died fast enough."

Chapter 196: It's easy to talk when you're not the one suffering.

It's not fair to blame the old lady; when she opened her eyes, she found all the maids had been sent away, and she only saw two strangers in her room. Having spent her whole life in the deep palace, she had seen everything, and her way of thinking, like the air here, had become murky and dark. However, from this sentence, Shizuka and Asur keenly grasped an important piece of information.

"You and your nephew, could it be that you don't get along?" Shizuka asked softly. "But the first thing he asked for when he returned to the palace after stepping down was to serve you."

"..."

The old lady seemed somewhat surprised by the two who raised the question. She raised her eyelids again and quickly glanced at them. Their posture, stance, and manner of speaking were nothing like those of palace maids in the imperial city. After all, as one of the representatives of the feudal era, the profession of "palace maid" required a fairly rigorous selection process.

Without inside connections, those who rise through the ranks from ordinary people to the level of serving the Empress Dowager would have been thoroughly trained by then. Their eyes would be lifeless, and their tongues extremely tight—a means of self-protection in this intricate compound. They would never be as outspoken as Shizuka and Asur, who even dared to speak to the person they served.

However, no matter how many prestigious titles she is given, it will not change her essence—a seventy-nine-year-old widow. She also has the basic emotional needs of a human being. Having lived in such a repressive environment for a long time, she also hopes to find someone to confide in during the few precious minutes she is lucid.

By some strange twist of fate, the two girls standing before him became the perfect targets.

"Everyone says my nephew is kind, compassionate, and makes many friends; he's a sage who appears only once in a thousand years. But in reality... few can see through his true nature." Wang Zhengjun lay on the bed, sighed softly, and looked up at the ceiling as if letting memories pour down from above. "He lost his father and brother at a young age and lived a life of dependence on others. While other young masters his age were still enjoying hunting and bird-catching, he had already learned to read people's faces."

"Young lady, have your parents ever said to you 'stand properly, sit properly' or anything like that?"

The topic suddenly shifted, and Shizuka thought back carefully. Her mother had indeed made some rules about her posture, such as not being allowed to sit cross-legged, but having to kneel; and only being allowed to lie flat or on her side in bed, not cross her legs... All sorts of little rules, though they sounded trivial, seemed to become acceptable once you got used to them.

Have you ever wondered why there are so many rules and regulations?

"Huh? Why..." Shizuka was a little confused, and subconsciously reached out to brush her braid back. "Maybe it's because when she was little, her grandparents also held her to similar standards?"

Wang Zhengjun finally smiled—the kind of smile that an elder, faced with the innocent answer of a younger generation, cannot help but chuckle.

"In life, three parts effort, six parts luck, and one part help from benefactors."

"Six parts luck refers to your family of birth—many things are decided the moment you are born. What you wear, what you eat, what you use... all these things will draw a watershed moment. A farmer's child can only make a living on a small plot of land for his whole life, that's luck."

From an ancient perspective, she was absolutely right. Even across two thousand years, in Shizuka's time, changing one's social class was still extremely difficult for those at the bottom. Although Shizuka was reluctant to acknowledge this harsh reality, individual efforts can easily hit a ceiling. Without the right platform, even the most agile person cannot take flight.

She said that hard work accounts for 30%, which is an exaggeration in a sense.

"As for the remaining 10% of influential people, most of them are between forty and seventy years old and wield various forms of power that can influence young people. Do you think they would judge whether a young person is worth extending a helping hand? Would they meticulously analyze every single situation?"

"Do not……"

The old lady slowly shook her head, passing on her life wisdom to the two younger generation: "There is simply not that much time, and there is no need for it. Your attitude, tone of voice, and actions at the first meeting are enough to determine everything. So-called 'cultivation' is actually just this: to ensure that these potential benefactors do not overlook you, or to make them genuinely want to give you a push."

"I see, I see!" This was the first time Shizuka had heard such a detailed explanation. Her long-standing confusion had finally been resolved. This was genuine and beneficial life experience. So she turned around and bowed slightly to the old man on the bed, saying, "Thank you for telling me all this."

“Not bad, you learn very quickly…” Wang Zhengjun smiled dismissively, but her smile quickly faded, turning into an indescribable deepness. “My terrible nephew, who is not even ten years old, has already grasped this principle.”

"Humble, respectful, gentle... he possessed all the finest qualities, and looking back now, he always said things I liked to hear. In this way, without realizing it, I became his support in the court, a stepping stone for him to climb higher."

"Actually, halfway through the journey, I vaguely sensed that something was wrong. He has always been a man of deep thoughts, and this became even more so after he became an official. Perhaps because he grew up without a father or brother, he regarded 'blood ties' as insignificant. What is an unbreakable bond of kinship for ordinary people is not so important to him."

"But the chaotic situation in the court left me with no choice. If we gave the maternal relatives any more time to catch their breath, we might be the ones killed. In that case, I could only cooperate with my nephew and temporarily entrust everything to him. Unfortunately... he is not the Duke of Zhou, or even Huo Guang."

"Perhaps his ambition was already formed from the very first day he entered officialdom..."

Wang Zhengjun sighed and said in a deep voice, "It was my fault for not being able to see it."

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.

“Well, this might not be the best way to put it, but I don’t think… there’s any need to be so disappointed.” Shizuka glanced at the old lady’s expression, and seeing that she wasn’t overly opposed to her statement, she said softly, “Your nephew said himself that he would create a better country than it is now, and so many people come to the city every day. With such a huge popular base…”

……

"Ah……"

"Ha ha ha ha……"

The old lady smiled.

It's like... knowing you've boarded a train heading to hell, but having no way to get off, only being able to watch it speed away, a self-destructive smile on your face.

"Governing a country? He certainly has a knack for inspiring people, but... he's simply not cut out for it!"

"Right now, most people still have food to eat and clothes to wear, so they have the leisure to keep coming here again and again. Do you really think those who support him truly understand him?"

"When the dynasty actually changes, what do you think..."

"Do they even have the time or inclination for this?"

Chapter 197: The Night Before the Storm

"Huh? Is he sick too?"

During dinner, the group sat together exchanging information. Upon hearing this news, Shizuka looked somewhat surprised. "Did Nobita use the [Medical Kit] to diagnose him? What illness did he have?"

“I’ve wanted to say this before, Shizuka.” Asur sighed, rummaging through the food in the can, and said in a tone like a teacher instructing a student, “Logically speaking… we should not interfere with what happens in this era, except for those things that are clearly contrary to common sense.”

Because they couldn't get used to the food from two thousand years ago without any seasoning, Da Xiong and his friends continued to eat canned food every night, the clanging sound of spoons stirring the tin cans never stopping. After several days of this, they gradually adjusted to the time difference.

"For ordinary people, the impact wouldn't be so great, but the people we're dealing with now are those who will leave their mark on history books. Whether they live one more day or one less day, it might change a lot of things..."

“I know all that, but… it would be a bit much for me to just stand by and watch someone die…” With this dilemma in mind, the food under my chopsticks lost its flavor. “That old lady looks so lonely, no one seems willing to talk to her.”

“It’s not that no one is ‘willing,’ it’s that no one dares,” Asur sighed. “Shizuka, do you think she’s some lonely old woman in a nursing home with no children to visit her? You just happened to catch the last train of her life. Before you came, she spent most of her life as the Empress Dowager. Do you really know what being the Empress Dowager means?”

Her explanation was quite academic, and there was nothing to refute, so I had to give up.

"Speaking of which, Ah Mao... I'm sorry." Da Xiong took the initiative to steer the conversation in a different direction, "We made a promise to find your parents, but we still don't have any leads."

There's no way there will be any clues.

Too much time had passed, and his description of his parents was vague, lacking any easily recognizable features. Most importantly, Da Xiong had already tried using the "search cane," which hadn't fallen anywhere. Given this situation, he had to assume the worst—Huang Amao's parents were most likely no longer alive.

However, Nobita also vaguely sensed that something was changing about the boy. He seemed less concerned about his parents, whom he hadn't seen in a long time, as if…

Whether you find it or not, it's all up to fate.

"Ah, it's nothing, it's nothing! Rather, you were all summoned to the palace by Lord Wang Mang, yet you still had time to help me find people. I'm already very grateful." He quickly finished his portion, his eyes sparkling as he stared intently at Da Xiong. "I stayed in the house all day and didn't go anywhere else. During that time, some people came to ask me if I needed anything."

"Is everything you're saying... true?"

His tone was filled with the purest expectation and longing: "Lord Wang Mang, the Duke of Anhan, do you really intend to become emperor?"

"Shh—!" Asur held up a finger and said irritably, "This kind of thing is not allowed to be leaked through any channel before it is successful, you understand? You can't discuss it with anyone except us, otherwise your life will be in danger."

"Of course I know, haha..."

Huang Amao's smile was very sincere, and it was clear that his joy at the event had overwhelmed all other emotions.

Adolescents in their adolescence often blindly believe in things and people, sometimes to the point of worship. After personally seeing off his mentor of many years, another idol, Wang Mang, quickly rose in his heart. Looking back now, did his request to come to Chang'an suggest a desire to make contact with Wang Mang?

“However, the Liu family’s rule has reached its limit of chaos. If a great man like him could come to power, things would be very different!” He clasped his hands together and earnestly envisioned the future. “That way, we wouldn’t need someone like the old man, and everyone could live a good life.”

"I really don't understand, where does your confidence in him come from..." Asur couldn't help but complain, "I think what that old empress dowager said makes a lot of sense. Didn't you live a pretty good life before? At least by the standards of this era, you had a place to live, food to eat, and clothes to wear. There weren't any major foreign wars, and things weren't too bad, were they?"