"Father, could Lord Zhang be His Majesty's illegitimate son?"
Cai Yan's sudden question nearly made Cai Yong throw out his back.
He coughed twice, then snapped, "Mind your words! How dare you speak so lightly of His Majesty?"
"If that's not the case," Cai Yan pressed, tilting her head, "then why did Father rush to Yuyang the moment he received a letter? The imperial edict didn't even arrive until halfway through the journey."
In truth, the emperor had feared Cai Yong might refuse. Instead of issuing an edict outright, he first sent a personal letter by eunuch. Only after learning that Cai Yong had already set out did the formal decree follow, dispatched ahead to meet him on the road.
What status did Cai Yong hold?
A renowned Confucian master of the age—yet he had hurried off without ceremony to serve as a mere chief clerk in a cold, remote frontier commandery, assisting a former Yellow Turban officer. No matter how one looked at it, the arrangement was utterly unreasonable.
And now, judging by her father's attitude, he seemed to treat Zhang Xin more like a favored disciple than a superior.
"I've heard Lord Zhang is from Jizhou," Cai Yan continued thoughtfully, her imagination already running wild. "And His Majesty is also from Jizhou. Perhaps… before ascending the throne, His Majesty had a brief romance with a commoner woman…"
She clasped her hands behind her back, pacing as she spoke, fully immersed in her own tale.
"Years later, he looks back, only to find that the beauty of his youth has long passed away, leaving behind a son—cold, hungry, and forced into rebellion just to survive…"
Her eyes brightened.
"But Heaven rewards perseverance! Though young, the son proves loyal and capable—defeating the Wuhuan, pacifying Youzhou! When His Majesty discovers the truth, he is filled with remorse and spares no effort to make amends. He even compels Father to come here…"
She nodded firmly, clearly satisfied with her own dramatic reconstruction.
Cai Yong stared at her, momentarily speechless.
"I was a criminal," he said at last, exasperated. "His Majesty showed boundless grace—pardoned me and summoned me back into service. How could I refuse?"
"Really? I don't believe it." Cai Yan blinked innocently.
"That's all there is. Stop overthinking it." Cai Yong waved her off. "Have you finished today's lessons?"
"Oh!"
Her expression changed instantly. "I—I'll go read right now!"
With that, she fled in a hurry—though inwardly, she was more convinced than ever that Zhang Xin must have some hidden connection to the emperor.
Once she was gone, Gu Yong stepped forward hesitantly.
"Teacher… is the Prefect truly not His Majesty's illegitimate son?"
"Yuan Tan," Cai Yong said with a faint smile, "do you still remember the first passage of 'Yan Yuan'?"
Gu Yong immediately began reciting, "The Master said: 'Do not look at what is contrary to propriety; do not listen to what is contrary to propriety; do not speak what is contrary to propriety—'"
He stopped mid-sentence, suddenly realizing.
"Go copy it fifty times," Cai Yong said calmly.
"…Yes."
Gu Yong turned to leave, face full of misery.
"So he really is an illegitimate—"
"One hundred times."
Gu Yong bolted.
Cai Yong shook his head and turned his gaze toward the prefect's residence.
At present, aside from the emperor and Zhang Rang, only Zhang Xin himself knew the truth of that relationship.
Such a matter could not be spoken of lightly.
Unable to explain it to his daughter or disciples, Cai Yong could only sigh inwardly.
"I only hope," he murmured, "that you are truly loyal to the throne, as Zhang Rang claims…"
Time passed in the blink of an eye. A month went by.
Several developments unfolded during that time.
First, the issue of wool processing was resolved. Newly produced wool garments were soft, clean, odorless, and provided excellent warmth. Zhang Xin ordered production expanded, while also sending a portion to Cai Yong and the others.
Since the livestock and textile workers had already been relocated into the newly built city for safety, there were no concerns on that front.
Second, papermaking techniques saw a breakthrough.
The newly produced paper was remarkably similar in texture to fine later varieties, aside from a slightly yellow tint caused by bark-based insect-resistant treatment. Still, it was more than suitable for writing.
When Cai Yong received a sample, he praised it highly—it far surpassed the quality of earlier paper.
Zhang Xin began considering opening a paper workshop after the new year.
After seeking Cai Yong's advice on education, he had come to a clear realization: to spread learning, the people must first be made prosperous.
Thus, rather than placing such ventures directly under government control, he intended to recruit commoners, create employment, and increase household incomes—while retaining administrative oversight.
But creating jobs was easier said than done.
Productivity remained too low.
Farmers toiled year-round, yet after taxes, they barely produced enough to sustain themselves. The government, in turn, had limited surplus after forwarding tribute and paying officials—not to mention the heavy burden of maintaining six thousand troops.
Under such conditions, forcing labor into industry would be disastrous. The populace might survive, but Yuyang would become dependent on imported grain.
With unrest looming on the horizon, that was a risk Zhang Xin refused to take.
If crop quality couldn't be improved, then efficiency had to be.
"It's time to introduce the curved plow."
Taking up a fresh sheet of paper, Zhang Xin began sketching.
The curved plow was a proven design—used for centuries in later eras. Its efficiency gains were undeniable.
Having used one himself in his past life, he was intimately familiar with its structure.
As for high-yield crops like corn or sweet potatoes, they remained far beyond reach, across distant lands. Even closer alternatives were unsuitable for Yuyang's harsh climate.
So the only viable path was to increase output through better tools.
Before long, the design was complete.
Zhang Xin summoned Yan Jin and ordered him to produce a prototype for testing. If successful, all production of weapons and armor would be temporarily halted in favor of manufacturing plows.
He could afford to make that decision because the steppe had descended into chaos.
The Xianbei tribes, driven by scarcity, had begun fighting among themselves.
Zhang Xin had already coordinated defenses—stationing forces at key passes and recalling Gao Shun to secure critical positions. With additional deployments in place, the major routes into Youzhou were effectively sealed.
To the east, the already impoverished regions had nothing left to plunder.
With no gains to be had, the Xianbei turned inward—competing violently for dwindling resources.
After Yan Jin departed, Zhang Xin picked up the annotated text Cai Yong had given him and resumed reading.
He had barely settled in when a minor official rushed in.
"My lord—the Xianbei have sent an envoy."