Zhang Xin stared at the letter in disbelief.
It had been written personally by He Jin.
The contents detailed his argument with Zhang Wen in the imperial court, and in the end, he expressed admiration for Zhang Xin's loyalty, even hinting that he hoped they might work together in the future.
The tone was calm and courteous—completely lacking the arrogance one might expect from the Grand General.
"Is He Jin trying to recruit me?" Zhang Xin murmured. "Being a Grand General doesn't seem easy after all…"
In Zhang Xin's eyes, He Jin was one of the most wronged figures of the late Han.
Empress He was the only empress of the Eastern Han not born into a great clan. Liu Hong elevated He Jin precisely to counterbalance the scholar-officials.
In just a few years, He Jin rose meteoricly—from Prefect of Yingchuan to Grand General. Compared to the father of the former Empress Song, who took seven years to reach a similar level, his ascent was astonishing.
With the emperor as his brother-in-law and such power in hand, he should have enjoyed stability and prestige.
But instead, he chose to align himself with the scholars.
This angered Liu Hong to the point that he even delayed replenishing the army.
Later, the emperor formed the Xiyuan Army, deliberately sidelining He Jin and placing the eunuch Jian Shuo above him—a humiliating arrangement.
A Grand General taking orders from a palace servant—what greater insult could there be?
At the same time, the scholars treated He Jin as nothing more than a tool, constantly urging him to eliminate the eunuchs.
Even his own brother, He Miao, warned him:
"We rose from humble origins thanks to the eunuchs. State affairs are not so simple—think carefully."
Even Empress Dowager He began to suspect him, fearing he sought to emulate past regents who seized power.
He Jin had alienated both the eunuchs and his own allies.
And in the end?
He died, his entire clan destroyed. Few among the scholars remembered any of his contributions.
If not for Cao Cao taking in his daughter-in-law, even his grandson He Yan might not have survived.
What a tragic fate.
Still, Zhang Xin would not reject such an opportunity.
Having allies in the imperial court could only benefit his future.
After a moment of thought, he summoned Xianyu Fu and Zhang Fang.
The two soon arrived and bowed.
"My lord, why have you called us?"
Zhang Xin handed them the letter.
"The Grand General seems interested in recruiting me. What do you think?"
Xianyu Fu read it—and his expression changed dramatically.
The Grand General… personally reaching out?
He handed the letter to Zhang Fang, who was equally shocked.
This young prefect… was far more formidable than they had imagined.
Zhang Xin said nothing, allowing them time to process.
After a moment, Xianyu Fu cupped his hands.
"I have long heard that the Grand General befriends heroes across the realm. Seeing this, it must be true."
"I believe Your Excellency should accept. With his support, your future prospects will be greatly enhanced."
"I agree," Zhang Fang added.
Zhang Xin nodded. "Then I will reply accordingly."
Of course, asking their opinion was merely a formality.
His real intention was to let them know—he now had backing in the imperial court.
The intelligence networks of great families were like spider webs. Once these two knew, the news would spread across the realm.
That alone would strengthen his position.
"Tomorrow, I will hold court," Zhang Xin added. "Inform all officials."
"Yes, my lord."
The next day, Zhang Xin convened court.
He relayed Tian Kai's recommendations on governance, ordering inspections at all administrative levels and strengthening oversight.
At the same time, he tasked Chen Song, the newly appointed Southern Inspector, with suppressing bandits and unruly fighters across the counties.
After the session, Zhang Xin called Yan Jin to remain.
"Master Yan, are there craftsmen in the prefecture who can make paper?"
"Yes," Yan Jin replied.
Since the improvements of Cai Lun, paper had existed, but the process remained complex and costly. Bamboo slips were still the primary medium for writing.
"I intend to improve papermaking," Zhang Xin said directly. "Gather all such craftsmen and have them develop better paper."
Yan Jin hesitated. "What are your requirements, my lord?"
"It must be suitable for writing, durable, and long-lasting," Zhang Xin said. "And most importantly—it must be cheap and suitable for mass production."
"That will be extremely difficult…"
"It's fine," Zhang Xin replied calmly. "Use materials like mulberry bark, hemp, and especially bamboo. Add glue to strengthen it, and use plant extracts to repel insects."
He didn't know the exact process—but he knew enough to guide them.
Ancient craftsmen were not lacking in intelligence—only in direction.
"The Commander also understands papermaking?" Yan Jin asked, astonished.
Zhang Xin only smiled. "Do it. If you need funds, take them from the treasury. If you need manpower, find Zhang Niujiao."
"Yes, my lord."
As Yan Jin left, Zhang Xin watched thoughtfully.
From the Eastern Han through the Tang Dynasty, aristocratic dominance rested on one thing: monopoly of knowledge.
Books were controlled by powerful families. The common people had access only to moral texts meant to maintain order—not to empower them.
True learning was restricted.
What Zhang Xin intended…
…was to break that monopoly.
Only by doing so could talent from the lower classes rise, revitalizing the state instead of allowing it to stagnate as in later centuries.
And the first step?
Cheap, widely available paper.
Only when paper became affordable could knowledge spread.
Only then could education flourish.
And only then could a new system—like imperial examinations—emerge.
Zhang Xin looked ahead calmly.
He was only seventeen.
He had time.
Plenty of time—for the scholars of the world to rise.