Lantern Festival Night

On the Lantern Festival of the seventh year of the Yonghui era, Chang'an City awoke in the twilight.

Wu Meiniang stood under the corridor of the Zichen Palace, watching the palace servants hang the last lotus lantern on the eaves.

The candlelight inside the glass lampshade flickered, making her feel somewhat dazed.

Once upon a time, such holidays meant overtime pay, taxi subsidies, and a photo contest for her on social media.

now…

"Mother!" Li Hong, dressed in a newly made royal blue brocade robe, rushed over like a small cannonball, followed by the stumbling Li Xian.

The three-year-old child, wrapped in a snow-white fox fur coat, looked just like a rolling glutinous rice ball.

She knelt down and carefully fastened the cloaks for the two children.

Li Xian squirmed restlessly, her little hands trying to grab the nine-tailed phoenix hairpin in her hair.

(Inner monologue: This outfit could probably buy a house in my past life, right? A corporate slave turned into the mistress of an empire, life is truly magical...)

Chengtian Gate Tower is now a sea of ​​lights.

On Zhuque Street, a procession of fish and dragon performers was making a noisy procession, with the agile figures of the dragon dancers tumbling among hundreds of lanterns.

Further away, the windows of ordinary people's homes shone with scattered light, merging with the Milky Way in the sky.

"His Majesty has arrived!"

Li Zhi arrived under the cover of night, his black casual robe embroidered with dark gold dragon patterns.

He naturally took Li Xian from Wu Meiniang's arms, and took Li Hong's hand with his other hand: "I am late. The Ministry of Revenue just reported that the East and West Markets will be open all night tonight, and the estimated commercial tax revenue is equivalent to half a month's normal amount."

Upon hearing this, Wu Zetian's professional instincts kicked in: (Inner monologue: The GDP growth of the night economy is indeed applicable across time!)

Her gaze followed the three-story-high revolving lantern on the street.

The lamp is decorated with a story about Zhang Qian's mission to the Western Regions and rotates continuously under the influence of heat.

Li Hong was engrossed in watching when he suddenly tugged at her sleeve: "Mother, why does the lamp turn by itself?"

For a moment, she almost blurted out the word "electric motor".

The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them back, instead taking the child's hand and drawing circles in the air: "Like the shifting of cargo ships, one thing rises while another falls, only then can it continue. The heat from the candle flame inside the lamp rises, propelling the fan blades..."

She paused, recalling the official performance evaluation system she had reviewed that morning, "Just like the imperial court, only through the replacement of the old with the new can vitality be sustained."

(Inner monologue: What am I even saying... Why is personnel reform being brought up in physics class?)

Suddenly, Li Xian in his arms began to babble, "The light... turns!"

The two words, spoken in a childish voice, inexplicably brought tears to her eyes.

She bent down and kissed her baby's milky face, and suddenly realized that she hadn't thought about how to restart her computer when it crashed in a long time, but she knew exactly how to schedule the shifts of the nursing nurses.

As night deepened, the sand table on the city tower was brightly illuminated by palace lanterns.

This is a model of the Grand Canal specially made by the Ministry of Works. The Yellow River is paved with blue silk, and the Grand Canal is outlined with silver lines.

Li Xian staggered over, grabbed the small flag representing Bianzhou, and stuffed it into his mouth.

"You can't eat it." Wu Meiniang quickly rescued the flag, which was covered in saliva, and then guided it, "Xian'er, tell your mother, what should we do here?"

The little guy blinked his big eyes, which looked just like his father's, and suddenly had a flash of inspiration: "Collect taxes!"

Li Hong immediately displayed the demeanor of an elder brother: "It is a commercial tax, one-thirtieth of the total tax. Mother said that taxes are like drawing water from a well; if it is too deep, it will dry up, and if it is too shallow, it will overflow."

(Inner monologue: When did I say that? Oh, it was last month when I was criticizing the Ministry of Revenue for imposing additional tea taxes...)

She smiled and popped a piece of candy into Li Xian's mouth, then turned to the Minister of Works and said, "Start dredging the Bian Canal tomorrow. Since even the Crown Prince understands the principles of taxation, the smooth flow of grain transport should be accelerated—order the grain transport boats to have their waterline deepened by half a foot."

As the night breeze began to rise, Li Zhi draped a cloak over her shoulders.

Gazing at the intricate network of canals on the sand table, she suddenly murmured, "Meiniang, this empire..."

She looked downstairs.

A vendor selling flatbread was handing a hot flatbread to an eager child, a scene that inexplicably resembled the egg pancake stalls outside the school in my past life.

Suddenly, I realized that I couldn't remember the last time I ate at a roadside stall.

"It is our shared land." She put Li Honggang's "Preface to the New Strategies for the Grand Canal" into a brocade box. The thousands of lanterns outside the window reflected a dazzling light in her eyes, but also revealed a fleeting sense of bewilderment deep within.

(Inner monologue: Wu Zetian, now you're preoccupied with canal tax rates, the education of princes... How much of the Li Wei who used to stay up all night crying because of client changes to plans is left?)

Li Xian fell asleep in her arms, still clutching the small Bianzhou flag in his little hand.

——————

[Mini-Theater: The Aftermath of Modern Thinking]

One day at court, the Minister of War reported on the military situation in the Western Regions, mentioning that the enemy army was "completely routed."

Wu Zetian instinctively replied, "Let me see a line graph of their core combat strength data."

The hall fell silent. Li Zhi coughed lightly: "Does the Empress mean... the battle report illustrations?"

(Inner monologue: Oh no, I'm having this PPT-related occupational hazard!)

Another day, looking at the budget for the expansion of the Daming Palace presented by the Ministry of Works, Wu Zetian frowned: "The ROI of this project is too low. It would be better to allocate resources to the digital transformation of the Grand Canal..."

The Minister of Works asked tremblingly, "Your Majesty, what is... digital transformation?"

"Well..." Wu Zetian hesitated, (inner monologue: Should she say something like, "Develop an app?") "...Set up more observation pavilions along the canal to record water levels and flow rates daily!"

The most serious incident occurred when teaching Li Hong arithmetic.

The young prince was counting taxes on his fingers when Wu Zetian blurted out, "Remember this formula, it'll be on the final exam!"

Li Hong tilted his head: "Mother, what is the final exam?"

Looking into her son's innocent eyes, Wu Meiniang silently swallowed the words "performance appraisal".

(Inner monologue: Help! My brain and my mouth are working independently!)

That evening, she practiced in front of the bronze mirror: "to deliver food" should not be said as "to order takeout," and "to change clothes" should not be said as "to change skin."

Li Zhi hugged her from behind, unable to suppress a smile: "What kind of magical arts is my Empress practicing today?"

"Cultivating..." she closed her eyes in despair, "How can I be a proper Tang Dynasty person?"

——————

【Note】

The following day, Crown Prince Li Hong presented a "Folded Line Diagram of the Grand Canal Transport," which astonished the entire court.

Wu Meiniang looked at the crooked but significant blueprint and finally smiled.

(Inner monologue: Okay, maybe... this isn't so bad.)