Chapter 102: A Tribute to the Legendary Nemesis Wang Anshi...

Fusu arrived empty-handed, but returned laden with spoils.

They not only received an inscription and preface personally written by the official, saving a lot of advertising costs, but also essentially obtained a pass from the government office—who would dare to deliberately delay, shirk responsibility, or refuse to handle a project personally endorsed by the official?

He stood at the entrance of the Chuigong Hall, lost in thought.

Who should we contact now?

The establishment of the newspaper involved people's livelihood, officialdom, and education, and was intertwined with the functions of the Ministry of Revenue, the Ministry of Personnel, and the Ministry of Rites. They needed to find someone who could oversee the overall situation and whose words carried weight.

Two names immediately came to mind for Fusu.

Fan Zhongyan, Fu Bi.

It just so happens that one of these two was his newly met master, and the other was his supervisor in the imperial examinations. It's quite normal for a Privy Councilor to relay messages to the Emperor and high-ranking officials. It's also quite normal for a junior disciple to seek advice through connections when unsure of something, right?

Fusu lifted his foot and headed towards the Privy Council. He would pass through several government offices along the way, encountering many officials he didn't recognize but who did.

"Little Sanyuanlang, did you just come out of the Chuigong Hall? Where are you going?"

Fusu waved the newspaper draft: "The Emperor has something to discuss with Chancellor Fan and Chancellor Fu. I'll be responsible for relaying the message."

"You seem to be in a good mood?"

"Of course, a new broom sweeps clean."

Fusu encountered many similar pleasantries along the way, and he responded with the same smile each time. Whether the people were genuinely kind or had barbed words, they all succumbed to his chubby, white face and bright, dark eyes.

Fusu made his way to the Privy Council without any obstacles. He noticed that the closer he got to the Privy Council, the fewer people had time to chat with him, and the more serious the expressions on the faces of those around him became. Even he himself was affected by this, and his initially relaxed mood gradually calmed down.

But Fusu did not dislike this atmosphere.

He found Fan Zhongyan without any obstacles, and the latter was pleasantly surprised to see him: "You've come at the right time. I just happened to have something to discuss with you, so you don't have to make another trip."

"Hmm? What can I do for you?"

Fan Zhongyan showed an expression that seemed both helpless and gratified: "It's all because of your story about Zhuge Liang that you made up."

Fusu touched his nose, feeling extremely guilty. He immediately reached into his sleeve pocket, trying to pull out the original draft of the newspaper to show off his new rebuttal, when he heard Fan Zhongyan slowly say, "I don't know how, but that book has spread to places outside Bianjing, and merchants have been coming to Bianjing in droves, wanting to buy cotton seeds."

"But the first batch has already been distributed near Bianjing, and the government has no more seeds left. But they insist on it and have even made a fuss before me. Now they've settled down in Bianjing and won't leave until they get the seeds."

"Where did this merchant come from?" Fusu asked.

Not only is he well-informed, but he also has a keen business sense. Furthermore, his ability to stir up a storm, reaching all the way to Fan Zhongyan, indicates he possesses considerable financial resources. He sounds like a very promising partner.

Fan Zhongyan pondered for a moment and said, "It seems to be the Suzhou-Hangzhou area."

Fusu's large eyes suddenly lit up: "That's wonderful, sir! The winter clothing for the soldiers in the Northwest has been secured."

Fan Zhongyan: "...?"

“Isn’t the textile industry always thriving in the Suzhou and Hangzhou area? If the merchants there ask us for cotton seeds, fine, we can even give them away for free. But once the cotton is ripe, they must return the full amount of cotton clothing to us.”

"Transport it to Bianjing, and then...transport it to the Northwest?"

Fusu: "Yes!"

Fan Zhongyan hesitated: "This move would associate with merchants and compete with the people for profit, which would damage the face of the court."

Haven't you heard the saying...?

Fusu said slowly, "Commerce is the greatest form of charity."

He counted on his fingers: "The imperial court promoted cotton in the new areas, merchants made profits, the people of Suzhou and Hangzhou had new jobs and more money in their pockets, and the soldiers in the northwest had winter clothes to wear. It seems like a great thing. Of course, there is a price to pay, which is..."

Fan Zhongyan: "That's right, I, the old man in charge of this matter, will have to bear some curses for 'competing with the people for profit,' right?"

Fusu quickly raised his hand, and the silk sleeve slid down to reveal half of his small, white arm, as delicate as a lotus root: "I can carry it too. No, let me carry it all."

He couldn't do anything that would damage Fan Zhongyan's reputation!

“How can a teacher be in charge and yet make the students take responsibility?” Fan Zhongyan pressed down on Fusu’s little arm: “Never mind, he’s had even worse reputations before.”

Back then, just last year, when he proposed ten new policies including "clarifying promotion and demotion," the criticism from the court was many times greater than it is now. Yet, he accepted them with a smile and composure.

Fusu felt a pang of sadness in his heart upon hearing this.

He certainly knew what Fan Zhongyan meant by "even more unpleasant words." Even more regrettably, Fan Zhongyan was never reinstated in history, and his ideals remained unrealized throughout his life.

Fusu said very seriously, enunciating each word clearly, "Teacher, your reputation will surely be passed down for thousands of years to come."

This was the only consolation.

Because of Fan Zhongyan, the posthumous title "Wenzheng" became the highest honorific title for a civil official. Yueyang Tower also became a 5A-level scenic spot, and you can even get free admission by reciting articles written by Fan Zhongyan.

Fan Zhongyan chuckled to himself.

He suddenly made a gesture that was extremely impolite to both of their statuses—he ruffled Fusu's hair, reluctantly withdrew his hand, and said gently, "Zongsu, what brings you to the Privy Council today?"

"Oh, yes." Upon hearing this, Fusu quickly took out the newspaper draft from his sleeve: "I want to start a newspaper that circulates throughout the world, especially among the common people. The draft is already written, and I wanted to ask you about its implementation."

When Fan Zhongyan heard the words "to be universally applicable," his expression immediately turned serious. He unfolded the draft and examined it closely: "First, tell me how you conceived this idea."

Fusu had anticipated this problem.

He cleared his throat and recounted all the details he and his companions had discussed. Fan Zhongyan listened intently, his brow furrowing and relaxing intermittently, a thoughtful expression on his face. Finally, he nodded: "According to your suggestion, Zongsu, two departments will ultimately be needed to run this newspaper."

"First, there is the place where the newspaper is edited; second, there are the people responsible for reviewing and proofreading it. If there are other privately-run newspapers, the latter should also be responsible for them."

Fusu nodded repeatedly, thinking to himself: "Truly a renowned prime minister. He has laid out the framework in one fell swoop; now all that's left is to fill in the content and details."

Fan Zhongyan then said, "Let's leave the former aside for now, but the latter is probably going to cause you some trouble."

"Huh? Why?" Fusu scratched his head, puzzled.

"Since they are responsible for proofreading and reviewing, the Censorate and the Remonstrance Bureau will definitely send people there, so..."

"Oh, I have a grudge against them, right?"

Fan Zhongyan nodded heavily. Due to a series of upheavals in the court, his disciple and the censors had developed a deep-seated grudge. If not for the Emperor's intentional protection, he would probably have been impeached to the point of obliteration by the censors long ago. For the censors, this was a golden opportunity to seize Zhao Xiaolang's power; how could they possibly let it slip by?

“Perhaps there’s a censor you have a good relationship with…” Fan Zhongyan said, then shook his head. Given the extent of the previous downfall of the entire censorate, how could there possibly be such a person?

“There really is,” Fusu said.

Fan Zhongyan was startled: "Who? Didn't he impeach you?"

"I can't be sure about that," Fusu said, scratching his head again. In reality, there were simply too many impeachments against him. He only knew about the matter; he didn't care who was specifically trying to sabotage him.

"But I'm sure he won't hold a grudge against me because of a past grievance. If he's holding me back, it'll only be related to the content of the case, nothing else."

Because both he and Ouyang Xiu had already been, or had almost been, falsely accused by the censors and demoted from the capital, Fan Zhongyan's impression of the censors was far from favorable. His interest grew even stronger, bordering on disbelief: "Oh? Who is that person?"

Is there really such a virtuous scholar among the censors, remaining untainted by the mire?

"Sima Guang," Fusu uttered three words.

He was the first official to receive the posthumous title "Wenzheng" after Fan Zhongyan, the significance of which needs no further explanation.

Fan Zhongyan's brow twitched, as if he vaguely remembered the name. He stroked his beard for a moment, then asked uncertainly, "...Is it the child prodigy who smashed the water jar?"

Fusu: "Pfft—"

Help! Was the story of "Sima Guang smashing the water jar" really that widely circulated during the reign of Emperor Wu of Han?

"Yes, yes, that's him, that's him."

"So it was him, then..." Fan Zhongyan seemed lost in thought, swallowing all the words he had left unsaid.

But judging from Fan Zhongyan's expression, Fusu was almost certain that Sima Guang would most likely be moved to a new position to be in charge of the review of the "Seeking Knowledge" newspaper.

Fu Su suddenly had a thought: "What about the editorial department?"

"Hmm?" Fan Zhongyan asked in confusion, "Isn't Zong Su your supervisor?"

“I will definitely oversee it for a while, but I won’t stay here indefinitely. Once it’s on the right track…”

"Are you about to go to Guangyuan Prefecture to inspect the warhorses?" Fan Zhongyan joked.

"Ahem, more or less."

"So, Zong Su, do you have a successor you'd like to recommend to me?"

“Yes,” Fusu said.

He just thought of a particularly suitable person.

"Because it is the responsibility of education, the editor-in-chief's writing skills and taste cannot be lacking. Moreover, since the newspaper is an independent entity responsible for its own profits and losses, it also needs to be knowledgeable about business. Finally, it should be relatively young, otherwise the articles produced will be dull and lack novelty and progress."

He has good writing skills and taste, is young, and understands business and industry.

Fan Zhongyan mentally sifted through the three criteria, but couldn't find a suitable candidate. Just like before, he couldn't help but wonder, did such a person really exist?

"Yes," Fusu answered with absolute certainty, "In a sense, he is still my senior."

Senior? Fan Zhongyan's mind suddenly stirred.

"The senior you're talking about wouldn't be... Wang Anshi, the top scholar of the second year of the Qingli era, would it?"

Fusu nodded emphatically: "Yes! It's him!"

The top scholar is, of course, a senior.

With Sima Guang already here, how far away can his destined nemesis, Wang Anshi, be?

With Fusu around, the fierce factional struggle between the old and new parties in history was destined to be avoided. But it would be a real shame if these two well-known rivals missed their chance. Perhaps it would be better to let them use their talents around the newspapers.

Anyway, the more intense their struggle, the better the quality of the articles that ordinary people can read.

Fusu thought to himself leisurely.

-----------------------

Author's Note: Wang Anshi & Sima Guang: They felt the invisible hand of fate...

Regarding the pre-order for the derivative work, some friends in the comments section guessed correctly! It is indeed a story about a dead girl.

However, I may be influenced by the original work's magnetic field, and I'm currently struggling to choose one of the three titles... I'll talk about it in the pre-order meeting.

And thank you so much to everyone who added my novel "Nine Palaces" to their pre-order list! Thank you all so much! [Loud-eared rabbit head][Loud-eared rabbit head][Loud-eared rabbit head][Dog head with rose][Dog head with rose][Dog head with rose]