Chapter 123
“And this strategy is also the first one I used to gain Zhu Yuanzhang’s trust!”
Wu Zhao’s phoenix-like eyebrows raised, her pupils contracting as shock filled her eyes. She had never expected Zhu Yuanzhang to be so thoroughly analyzed by Yang Yi.
Yang Yi’s lips curled into a faint smile as his tall figure leaned forward slightly. His eyebrows rose, and his burning gaze locked onto Wu Zhao.
“The flaw in the enfeoffnt system is that princes can easily beco too powerful,” he began, his tone calm yet cutting. “Zhu Yuanzhang is well aware of this and is confident in handling such matters.
“So, I took the opportunity to present him with the second strategy—inheritance of titles. Zhu Yuanzhang believes the feudal system has no inherent issues. He attributes the Seven States Rebellion during the Han Dynasty to Emperor Jing’s harshness and lack of benevolence. To accommodate his views, I suggested granting titles to all his sons and grandsons.
“Beginning with the eldest legitimate son as Crown Prince, the other princes would beco Kings with first-rank official robes. Their descendants, through primogeniture, would inherit these titles. Those unable to inherit titles would receive alternative honors.”
Yang Yi’s voice turned colder, his gaze unwavering as he continued, “For instance, below the rank of princes, their eldest legitimate sons inherit the title of prince, while the others receive the title of duke with second-rank official robes. This process continues down to the position of Deputy National Commander. Below that, the titles would stabilize. Even after ten generations, the lowest-ranking descendant would still hold the title of National Commander, accompanied by stipends.”
He paused, letting his words sink in. “In other words, as long as they are descendants of the Zhu family, no matter how many generations pass, the lowest title they will hold is that of National Commander. Such an imperial favor is unprecedented among all nations.
“Zhu Yuanzhang was overjoyed, believing this strategy would ensure the stability of the feudal system. Your Majesty, while this strategy may seem to bolster the Ming Dynasty, it is fraught with pitfalls. In fact, you are making the sa mistake as Zhu Yuanzhang by not recognizing the traps behind these strategies.”
Wu Zhao’s phoenix-like eyebrows furrowed as confusion flickered across her cold, noble face.
“How so?”
Yang Yi’s slight smile returned. “Firstly, the flaws of the enfeoffnt system are unavoidable. No matter how generous the Emperor’s Grace may be, it only lasts for two generations. When the sons and grandsons of the princes erge, how will they rember the emperor’s kindness?
“To them, the emperor becos a distant symbol. Zhu Yuanzhang’s belief that familial loyalty will prevail as long as his descendants receive imperial grace is naïve. It fails to account for the greed inherent in human nature. Fratricide within the sa clan is not unheard of. After a few generations, the descendants of princes and the emperor’s sons will be strangers who share only the surna Zhu.”
Wu Zhao nodded slightly, recognizing the truth in his words. Yang Yi’s reasoning was sound, and his ability to dissect Zhu Yuanzhang’s psychology so accurately was both impressive and unsettling.
“This is just the surface flaw of the enfeoffnt system,” Yang Yi continued. “In fact, it could even be seen as a sound defensive strategy against the Northern Yuan, allowing his sons and grandsons to settle disputes among themselves.
“But the real poison lies in the second strategy…”
Shangguan Wan’er, who had been silently listening, widened her eyes in astonishnt. The Empress’s assessnt of Yang Yi’s character was accurate—he truly harbored no goodwill. Yet, her curiosity was piqued.
What was the ‘poison’ Yang Yi referred to?
Wu Zhao’s interest was clearly heightened as well. Her spirit lifted, and her gaze burned with anticipation as she awaited his explanation.
“The title inheritance system I proposed to Zhu Yuanzhang,” Yang Yi said, his voice eerily calm, “may seem like an unprecedented imperial favor, but it is, in reality, a scythe of death. One could even say that no matter how many wise rulers the Ming Dynasty may have in the future, its fate was sealed the mont I proposed this strategy. Its demise is inevitable within approximately two hundred and fifty years, or even earlier.
“The countdown to the Ming Dynasty’s fall began the day this strategy was implented.”
Shangguan Wan’er’s breath hitched as shock coursed through her. The Ming Dynasty dood? Its fate sealed?
This man had not only devised a strategy but claid to have confidently predicted the exact duration of the Ming Dynasty’s existence. Was he rely spouting nonsense, or was this strategy truly as devastating as he described?
She took a deep breath, trying to calm her turbulent thoughts. The Ming Dynasty was still young and brimming with vitality. Its ministers and generals were unparalleled, its strength unmatched. Even the mighty Great Zhou would struggle against it.
Yet Yang Yi’s chilling declaration seed to cast a shadow over its grandeur.
Wu Zhao, though equally shaken, suppressed her emotions. Her voice, mature and dignified, echoed in the hall.
“I don’t understand. If this strategy is an act of imperial grace, why would it beco a scythe of death?”
Yang Yi’s expression remained composed. “Your Majesty, do you know what will happen if this inheritance system is followed for three or four generations?”
Wu Zhao hesitated, her mind racing.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
Yang Yi leaned back slightly, eting her gaze. “Your Majesty, were you not very skilled in arithtic as a child?”
Wu Zhao’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You… how do you know?”
Her voice faltered, and a trace of surprise broke through her composed deanor. How could he know sothing so private?
Yang Yi’s mouth twitched in amusent. “Your Majesty, do you have a Go board here? And perhaps a bowl of rice?”
Wu Zhao raised an eyebrow but waved at Shangguan Wan’er, who promptly left and returned with the requested items.
Yang Yi placed the Go board between them, then picked up a single grain of rice and placed it on the first square.
“Your Majesty, if the first square has one grain of rice, the second has two, the third has four, and the fourth has eight, doubling each ti until the board is full—how many grains of rice would be needed?”
Wu Zhao frowned, glaring at him. “You know I’m not good at arithtic, and yet you ask…”
Shangguan Wan’er bit her lip, stifling a smile. Why did this feel oddly like teasing?
Yang Yi suppressed a laugh and rephrased the question. “Then, Your Majesty, do you think this bowl of rice can fill all the spaces on the board?”
Wu Zhao glanced at the bowl, then at the board. “Of course it can!”
Yang Yi’s smile deepened as he silently began placing grains of rice on the board.
Wu Zhao leaned forward slightly, her clear eyes fixed on his hands. Shangguan Wan’er watched closely as well, curiosity etched on her face.
As Yang Yi continued, Wu Zhao’s expression shifted. Her composure cracked, her phoenix-like eyes widening.
Her voice trembled as realization dawned. “This… this is…”
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