“Chen Shuzhi from Yuzhou greets Lord Xuande,” Hua Xiong released Chen Dao, and Chen Dao respectfully saluted Liu Bei.
“What a robust man,” Liu Bei said with a smile.
Soon, ten people had gathered. Liu Bei led the group inside. Pushing open the two large glass doors, Liu Bei looked at the interior, which was no less luxurious than his own ho, with rows of bookshelves already filled with paper books. He sighed, “Wenru, regardless of how much Zichuan spent, at least he wasn’t joking around.”
Saying this, Liu Bei pulled a book from one of the shelves. It was a straightforward guide on farming, detailing how to increase the yield of a single acre of land—no flowery language, just practical advice. However, it was still a book, aning those who could read it likely didn’t need to farm themselves.
At the end of the book, the authorship was revealed: Zhao Yun collected the material, and Qu Qi compiled it. There was even a mischievous note stating "to be continued," implying that more could be added later.
Walking a few more steps, Liu Bei noticed a book on governance and pulled it out. It was filled with instructions on how to handle various administrative matters. Liu Bei didn’t need to check the author—it had to be Liu Ye's work. It was a very practical book, and Liu Bei was sure it also ended with a “to be continued” note, as Liu Ye had been working on it for a long ti and still hadn’t finished.
In the miscellaneous section, Liu Bei pulled out a few volus. “Confucianism, Daoism, taphysical theories, various compiled myths, geographical wonders—this miscellaneous section aims to cover everything?”
On the other side, Cai Yan was taken aback when she saw a collection of music classics. She pulled out a thin volu and quickly skimd through it. The content was familiar—it was her father Cai Yong’s attempt to restore the ancient music classics. She silently returned the book to the shelf. Her father had never completed this work or managed to circulate it widely. Yet, Taishan had done what her father always wanted to do.
Chen Zhi, another visitor, picked up a volu of the Strategies of the Warring States. Compared to the cumberso rolls of bamboo slips he had seen before, this book contained the entire text. Slowly, he put down the volu and, gazing at the shelf full of comntaries on the Strategies of the Warring States, silently stroked the bookshelf. Coming to Taishan was indeed a good thing—this bookshelf alone represented the wisdom of countless scholars!
If Chen Xi were here, he would surely tell Chen Zhi that he traded for all these works with Zheng Xuan and others. They provided the original texts, manpower, and even money, while Chen Xi printed the books. When selling them nationwide, he would still make a profit. What good people they were!
In fact, Chen Xi also printed a lot of Pang Degong’s military strategies, Huang Chengyan’s formations, and Sima Hui’s political treatises. However, those materials were only obtained after Jian Yong negotiated long and hard with those three n. Most importantly, they weren’t even complete versions.
Even so, what Chen Xi had obtained was vast and profound. After making several copies of the works from these three great family collections, Chen Xi sent free paper versions back to them. But the printing molds remained in Taishan. When those families received the paper copies from their sons and nephews, they felt a twinge of regret—had they known, they would have given more texts to get hundreds of sets printed for their own collections. Now, they were left with incomplete works.
These three belonged to the more open-minded faction. After all, when they exchanged their family collections, they also gained new knowledge from Chen Xi, such as Chen Xi’s forgery of practical tools and ingenious devices...
What these three valued more were the exchanges between wise minds and the sparks of inspiration that arose from such exchanges. These were far more important than rely hoarding family collections. Though family archives were precious, they paled in comparison to the importance of continual innovation and surpassing previous generations.
As Liu Bei was about to leave, he noticed two lines of text engraved on the walls flanking the entrance of the library: “The sea embraces all rivers, accepting the vast and diverse. A towering wall stands unyielding, firm through its self-restraint.”
“Zichuan, oh Zichuan, you really are sothing…” Liu Bei sighed. Setting aside the cost of these buildings, Liu Bei understood one thing: these books were invaluable treasures. Who knew how much effort Chen Xi had spent to gather these texts? The thousands of volus from the Cai family couldn’t compare to even a fraction of what was here. How on earth did Chen Xi manage to collect all these?
“Lord Xuande, this place can be described as a treasure trove of knowledge. Since Zichuan has built it, he must have had his reasons. With a place like this, the scholars under your rule will surely flock to Taishan, allowing Zichuan to begin the second step of his plan. After countless ages, what the pre-Qin scholars aspired to—enlightening the people—has finally been initiated by Chen Zichuan,” Li You said, a warm smile spreading across his face.
At that mont, Li You seed to bathe in radiant light, transforming from his usual indifferent self into soone filled with warmth and righteousness. The cold and subtle deanor he once carried now radiated grandeur and integrity. In this mont, he glimpsed the goal he had pursued for forty years.
“It’s just a sha about the cost,” Liu Bei said with a hearty laugh. “Co on, let’s go see the Temple of Spirits. Zichuan won’t disappoint
there either.”
“Lord Xuande, from now on, if great families and wealthy clans are willing to submit, then allow them to do so. If they are not, deal with them as you see fit. There’s no need to be concerned any longer. The era of powerful families controlling knowledge for a thousand years is gradually coming to an end. Zichuan has paved the way for their eventual downfall. Perhaps we won’t see the results for another hundred years, but the outco is already determined,” Li You said respectfully.
Chen Xi had done what Li You had always wanted to do. Although it would take centuries for the results to fully manifest, the fate of powerful families returning to dust was already sealed. As long as knowledge no longer belonged exclusively to the great families, they would eventually wither away. And even the new erging families could never enjoy the millennia-long prosperity of the old aristocracy. For the first ti, a glimr of hope appeared for the common people, no matter how small—no longer would they be trapped in complete darkness.
“I understand,” Liu Bei nodded. “Zichuan told
long ago not to worry about them. They will fall into the dust along with their own glory, and new brilliance will rise from the ashes!”
Liu Bei didn’t fully understand the long-term plans Chen Xi had in mind, but that didn’t hinder his trust in him. He believed that everything Chen Xi did was for his benefit, even if so of Chen Xi’s thods occasionally frightened him. Looking back, it seed that every ti, it was simply his own weak heart that couldn’t handle the shock—Chen Xi never acted with ill intent.
“Fall into dust...” Li You murmured, repeating the phrase. When had he started to submit to the overwhelming shadow of the great families? Once, he had been full of ambition, determined to drag all the aristocrats into the depths of hell. Once, he had sworn to the heavens that he would carve out a path for scholars like him, from humble origins, to rise. When had he begun to yield to that imnse shadow?
Slowly, Li You straightened his back. Yes, it was true—he had indeed allowed his heart to beco clouded. He had lost the boldness to fight against the great families and the courage to make a last stand for the common scholars he represented. But what did it matter if he had failed once? This ti, he had comrades who shared his ideals. He was no longer fighting alone. He was willing to climb back into the battle chariot and fight once more for the ideals he had once held dear!
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