Echoes of My Heart Throughout the Court
chapter 364

The Crown Prince had originally thought no one would object.
Suddenly, from the side came an angry outburst: "Your Highness!"
Quan Yizhang stood up from his seat with the help of a cane, his face filled with anger.
-At his age, he was entitled to a seat in court.
"Does Your Highness know how much it costs to build a ship? Do you know how dangerous the sea is? Do you know that the natives might be cannibals? You're using fame and fortune to lure the scholars of the realm to their deaths! Your Highness, forgive my boldness, but as Grand Preceptor and your teacher, I must advise you to think thrice before acting. The proposal itself is not bad, but it requires thorough and careful planning."
The sudden turn of events caused a stir among the officials.
But upon closer thought, his words did make sense.
The idea of spreading Confucian teachings across the world was indeed inspiring-but also perilous. Lives could easily be lost. Especially now, when the Daxia navy was still relatively immature, and if Daxia's citizens were bullied overseas, it wasn't certain they could make those countries pay.
If too many scholars died abroad, even if the proposal came from the Crown Prince, he would face immense criticism.
One must remember: malicious gossip can melt gold and grind bones to dust.
Indeed, none of them were as steady and prudent as Lord Quán...
The Crown Prince realized there were indeed flaws in his approach and was just about to speak when Quan Yizhang, with righteous fervor, declared:
"Let this old man wade into the murky waters first! You're all still young. I am already eighty-nine and unafraid of ruining my reputation. That continent that grows potatoes and sweet potatoes-its natives are numerous, lack etiquette, and are uneducated. Let me go and try!"
The ministers: ".....
Spit! You shameless old fox!
The Confucian scholars immediately rushed forward-
"Your Majesty! I support the Crown Prince's proposal!"
"Your Majesty! I am willing to share your burdens!"
"Your Majesty! I have over ten friends who are great scholars. If there is criticism, they will write in support! I fear no backlash!"
Among them were many students of the classical literature school, completely unafraid to offend its current leader!
What a joke-this was the central seat in the ancestral hall, an independent branch on the clan registry, and a premium incense-burner-level opportunity!
If they could really get a continent of barbarians to embrace Confucianism, they'd be enshrined in the Temple of Literature!!!
It would be worth it-even at the cost of their lives!
In the Temple of Literature, Confucius would be first, Mencius second, and third would be me! Wouldn't you go for it? I'm going for it!

The matter of "Confucians educating the barbarians of New Wō Island" spread.
Of course, what spread were highly politically correct, deeply educational stories meant to uplift the people of the realm.
Much like how the court only promoted the story of Confucius traveling through the feudal states with his disciples to spread Confucian values-always accompanied by a kindly portrait of the Master. They would never tell the public that their kindly Confucius was actually nine feet six inches tall and a master of archery.
Nor would they mention that his disciple Zilu, one of the Seventy-Two Sages, originally approached Confucius wearing military garb and carrying a sword to challenge him and was supposedly beaten into submission and thus became his student.
- After all, with a temperament like Zilu's, it's hard to believe he was ever "convinced by virtue alone."
Once the news got out, Confucian scholars and students across the realm became extremely excited. Many of them, armed with nothing but a book, a bow, and a single arrow, headed overseas.
The wealthy built ships to sail out-toward peninsulas, new continents...
The poor walked on foot or scraped together enough to buy a horse-heading to the grasslands, to the borderlands, to inland countries...
Spreading culture to the world had always been the ultimate mission of Confucianism. Even Ji Sui quickly resigned from office, deciding to head out and conquer the new continent.
In the annals of Chinese history, this would be known as the Cultural Explosion.
In foreign histories, it would be recorded as the Cultural Invasion.
The old emperor had mixed feelings about this: "Many capable scholars have gone abroad to preach philosophy. Who's left to serve in office for Daxia?"
He often aired such thoughts to Empress Dowager Dou.
Empress Dou pondered for a moment and asked, "Are we currently short of officials?"
"Not exactly. We have over a thousand waiting to take office, and they're all well-educated."
The old emperor pulled a pained expression: "But those who left could've been my officials."
Empress Dou chuckled helplessly: "There aren't that many positions available. We can't just let them sit idle, right? The scholars spreading Daxia's influence abroad-overall, the benefits outweigh the costs. Think of the previous dynasty's glory when all nations came to pay tribute."
The old emperor stroked his chin. "That's true."
He could tell-this was a policy that wouldn't show immediate results, but would yield immense rewards in the long run.
It's just that, with the mindset of a farmer, he always wished the people of Daxia would focus wholeheartedly on cultivating their own land, not on trade or maritime ventures—which he saw as not doing honest work.
But he wasn't lacking in resolve-
"Then we'll wait a few years! Let's see if this policy turns out good or bad."
As it turned out, they didn't need to wait that long. Six months later, news came from overseas.

A disciple of the School of Diplomacy and Strategy used their teachings abroad to help a small country form alliances and survive amidst greater powers. That person rose to prominence and was welcomed as an honored guest by many nations, enjoying great prestige and admiration.
The disciples of the School of Diplomacy still in Daxia: "!!!"
Of course! Daxia didn't offer the environment to apply their teachings—but abroad, there were plenty of places with small, rival nations! Wasn't that the perfect stage to put their lifetime's knowledge to use?
Maybe they too could, like a certain predecessor, destroy a nation single-handedly!
AAAHHHHHH!!!
History was calling out to them, and the descendants of the School of Diplomacy (Zonghengjia) surged forward.
During this era, Huaxia's national strength was absolutely unmatched in the world.
It might not have been as prosperous as the golden ages of certain dynasties in the past, but compared to its contemporaries, there was no one who could rival it.
Meanwhile, as Confucians, Yin-Yang scholars, strategists, and others stirred up waves overseas, they also ignited a deep admiration abroad for Huaxia's culture.
So it turns out Huaxia had such a powerful culture, and so many great philosophers.
-To them, the founders of the Hundred Schools of Thought were akin to philosophers. And not just any philosophers, but ones who could determine the fate of nations.
For a time, learning Huaxia culture became the new trend in countries big and small across the seas. Small countries admired its strength; big countries were intrigued. The Huaxia script and language became symbols of nobility and royalty. Some countries, which had already welcomed emissaries of the Hundred Schools as honored guests, even had their royal families request surnames from Da Xia and offered tribute to acknowledge vassalage.
Many natives even traveled thousands of miles to the Central Plains, hoping to acquire Da Xia household registration and settle down. Standing at the downstream end of the river of time, Bai Ze, upon the shoulders of giants, uttered a single truth: [Cultural Cohesion]. The brilliant minds of the court quickly dissected the term and understood its meaning - the gravitational pull of culture toward a center.
They, Huaxia, were that center.
At that moment, the officials of the court couldn't help but smile with pride. They walked with renewed energy - even their work enthusiasm increased.
They were still holding a grudge over Xu Yanmiao's earlier claim that Huaxia's astronomy lagged behind that of foreign countries.
Now who's falling behind whom? Who admires whom? Look! Just take a good look!
"Ahem, Xu Yanmiao." The Minister of Rites theatrically placed an official document in front of Xu Yanmiao: "Take a look at this. The number of foreign migrants applying to settle in Da Xia is immense. I wonder if this arrangement is feasible."
[Huh? Me? You're asking me, someone from the Ministry of Personnel, whether your immigration policy is reasonable?]
Xu Yanmiao maintained a polite smile. "Alright."

Then, casually, he flipped through the system to try and find the cause.
[Eh? It wasn't just me they asked-looks like they sent this to several ministries-oh~ I get it now. It's just to flaunt their achievement!]
The Minister of Rites straightened his collar naturally, also smiling.
Of course, the real reason was not just about consulting her. Circulating it to everyone was just to avoid making the gesture to her seem too conspicuous.
He also urged, "Xu Lang, take a good look-"
How does our Da Xia's culture compare with foreign ones?
Xu Yanmiao read it carefully and was shocked: "The treatment is this generous?"
Minister of Rites: "They're the first batch after all. Some privileges must be given so more people will be encouraged to migrate... Come! Let me show you!"
And so, Xu Yanmiao was taken to Da Xia's foreigner quarter-Fan Fang.
Inside were people with various skin tones, hair colors, and eye colors. Some were returning from outside the quarter holding silk, while others stood on street corners speaking awkward official Da Xia dialects, explaining that behind their rented courtyard they had some land- two parts for melons, one part for vegetables.
It was bustling with activity.
"All of these foreigners have household registration," the Minister of Rites said softly. "To become a Da Xia citizen, to buy property, settle down, and receive land, one must first have household registration."
-With a household registration, they could be taxed and conscripted.
Yes, it didn't matter your race, hair color, eye color, or language - once you came to Da Xia, you paid taxes and performed labor.
"If they know farming, they're assigned farmland and made to farm. But only villagers get land- there are too many people and too little land in the cities."
Andrei was a male slave from the Black Sea. He was being kept like cargo below the deck of a transport ship, on his way to be sold to Crete to grow sugar
crops.
The sea swayed, the ship rocked. Through the gaps in the deck, the captain, sailors, and first mate could be heard laughing and discussing how much gold this batch of slaves could fetch. Tobacco smoke poured out in waves.
Andrei could understand their language. He knew the youngest person in the hold was a three-year-old girl, whom the merchants planned to sell for four gold coins.
The most desirable slave on board was from Syria. Slaves from there always sold at a premium due to their reputed intelligence - at least twenty gold coins. As for himself - a healthy, robust adult male- he could be sold for a thousand copper coins.
Yet despite being so "valuable," the ship owner provided them with only rotting food and leaking water buckets.
Andrei's stomach was in agony. He lay in the hold, moaning softly. His face had turned sallow, his head felt swollen and dizzy, and his ears rang faintly.
He missed home a little.

That green valley, the girl with a lyre sitting by the mirrored lake, plucking the strings as if flower petals were playing the instrument. The breeze stirred ripples, her skirt brushed the ground, and waterbirds dove into the lake to snatch fish.
He hadn't even had time to ask the name of the melody. He only remembered it reminded him of forests and dewdrops-water gently dripping down leaves.
Rumble-
There seemed to be the sound of fighting outside. Something scraped across the deck, splintered it open, and the sharp scent of gunpowder rushed in. Andrei no longer had the energy to guess.
A stranger's face appeared before him—someone who looked Huaxian.
That person glanced around, then turned and shouted something loudly in a foreign language. Andrei didn't understand a word. He only saw that despite wrinkling their nose at the stench of the hold, the person still called for others to come and carry them out.
What he didn't understand was that the Huaxians were saying-
"This seems to be a slave warehouse."
"Bringing a whole ship of people to spread Confucianism would be troublesome. Send them back to Huaxia."