PFC Chapter 31 Survival, Improving Life, Ultimate Ambition
Chapter 31 Survival, Improving Life, Ultimate Ambition
"Bo Tuo?" Yang Yan's mind was still a little fuzzy, and the word made him pause for a moment.
"It's just like wontons or noodle soup in later generations, right?!"
While he was still lost in thought, Yu Wen placed a steaming bowl of soup on the table.
"My lord, please have some hot food."
He snapped out of his reverie and his gaze fell on the white porcelain bowl. A few scallions floated on the clear soup, and a few whitish strips of food floated in the broth.
It is made by kneading flour into dough, then rolling it into strips about the thickness of a fingertip, and finally cooking it in boiling water.
Is this what Bo Tuo is?
The bland appearance instantly killed Yang Yan's appetite.
In his previous life, he was a native of the South, accustomed to refined rice and smooth noodles, and had no interest in this kind of coarse noodle dish.
He picked up the spoon helplessly, blew on it to cool it down, and only drank a few sips of soup to moisten his throat before he could eat no more.
"My lord, is it not to your liking? I'll have the kitchen redo it right away," Yu Wen asked cautiously upon seeing this.
"No need," Yang Yan waved his hand. "I'm going to the study later, so go and prepare it."
His mind was now filled with the maps of Liaodong, the granaries of Guanzhong, and the miasma of Lingnan; he had no appetite whatsoever.
The most urgent task is to put those fragmented historical knowledge and future plans in my mind into writing.
"promise."
Yu Wen dared not say more and bowed as he withdrew.
Two maids entered silently, carrying a set of clean clothes.
Yang Yan opened his arms somewhat awkwardly.
A maid untied his loosened robes from before he went to bed.
The other one unfolded a moon-white fine linen undergarment.
Next was a dark blue round-necked robe with a cross-over collar and right-fastening front, made of silk with a subtle pattern.
A brocade belt was tied around her waist, and a small jade pendant was hung from it.
Throughout the process, the two maids moved gently and were well-trained, like two exquisite dolls.
The feeling of being waited on hand and foot made him feel awkward, but he knew that this was a daily routine he had to get used to.
Dressed neatly, he glanced at the familiar yet unfamiliar figure in the bronze mirror—his face still bearing traces of youth.
Yang Yan sighed, got up and walked towards the study.
Unlike the magnificent and resplendent other halls of the Eastern Palace, everything here exudes a quiet and ancient charm.
Two vermilion bookshelves stand along the wall, filled with voluminous volumes of classics, histories, philosophical works, and literary collections.
Bamboo scrolls make up 60% of the book, carefully woven together with cowhide ropes and stacked neatly; the rest are hemp paper pages that are beginning to take shape, held together by heavy wooden boards, with the book titles marked on the spines in clerical script.
At this moment, several candles were lit in the room, illuminating the entire space as bright as day. Yang Yan stood by the window, raised his hand, and rubbed his slightly aching brow. Countless thoughts were running through his mind.
Survival remains the most pressing issue.
But how to proceed requires careful consideration.
After a while, he walked to the desk and wrote a few words.
A way out?
Living well!
Live a vibrant life!
As the name suggests, this is what he needs to do most right now.
The first path was clearly laid out: assist his father, secure his position as Crown Prince, and wait for the right opportunity to arise. This seemed to be the most logical choice for the eldest grandson of the emperor.
However, Yang Yong's panicked and bewildered face, his evasive eyes when questioned, and even the absurdity of last night that nearly destroyed everything... all acted like cold water, repeatedly extinguishing this seemingly bright illusion. To place all hope in an unreliable crown prince is no different from binding one's own hands.
Why would someone stake their entire fortune and life on a hopeless case?
This is a stupid thing that only a gambler would do.
Yang Yan shook his head with a wry smile.
This is not a shortcut.
This is a dead end.
Then, only the second path remains.
A road that seems more treacherous, yet holds hidden opportunities.
Yang Yan turned his gaze to the south on the map.
That land, in the eyes of the Sui Dynasty officials, represented pestilence and barbarity.
Lingnan.
What appears to be exile is actually... a dragon lurking in the abyss!
His good second uncle, Prince Yang Guang of Jin, was cunning, shrewd, and ruthless.
He is meticulously weaving a large net to bring the Crown Prince to his doom.
Staying in the capital is like being in the center of a spider web.
Every move they made was under his surveillance.
Moreover, what's more, a decade or so from now, many powerful figures will rise up...
A younger, yet sharper figure flashed through Yang Yan's mind.
Li Shimin.
The Heavenly Khan who was destined to usher in the "Reign of Zhenguan".
He looked up at the deep night outside the window, a crazy and audacious thought popped into his head—one day, if he could have a fair and square contest with Li Shimin, the Heavenly Khan who was destined to create the "Reign of Zhenguan", on the front lines, or even... make him his underling, how interesting that would be!
The thought flashed through his mind for a moment before he forcibly suppressed it.
It's too far away.
Returning to the second path to survival—part of Lingnan!
In his historical memory, the Lingnan region was a land shrouded in miasma and inhabited by barbarians, a barbaric place in the eyes of scholars from the Central Plains.
But precisely because of this, it stayed away from the vortex of conflict in the Central Plains.
Since the Kaihuang era, apart from a few small-scale Li people rebellions, there have been few large-scale wars.
More importantly, the emperor was far away there, and the influence of imperial power was extremely weak!
It may seem like exile, but in reality... it's like a dragon entering the sea!
Given his status as a grandson of the emperor, and by actively catering to Yang Jian and Yang Guang's intention to "exile" him, obtaining an imperial edict to send him to govern Lingnan should not be difficult.
When Yang Guang plunges the Central Plains into misery and uprisings break out everywhere, he can either advance by accumulating provisions and troops, and then march north to seize power when the Central Plains are in chaos; or retreat by defending his territory, staying away from trouble, and living a carefree life.
It could even become a secret weapon for Yang Yong to counterbalance Yang Guang outside the court, and Yang Yong might not be without a chance to turn the tables!
"Overthinking is useless; focusing on the present is the key."
Yang Yan shook his head, forcibly suppressing those chaotic thoughts.
Whether it's assisting the Crown Prince or venturing to Lingnan, a solid starting point is essential.
He turned and walked toward the imposing bookshelves.
His fingertips slowly traced the cool bamboo slips, the rough and hard texture penetrating his skin and gradually calming his chaotic thoughts.
His gaze swept over the Book of Documents and the Zuo Commentary.
Finally, it came to a steady stop on a roll of hemp paper.
The Kaihuang Code.
This set of laws integrates the laws of the Northern Qi and Northern Zhou dynasties, simplifying the complexities.
This is the fundamental rule of this era.
Actively requesting a transfer to another post is tantamount to admitting defeat and will inevitably arouse suspicion.
He needs a reason.
A reason that neither Yang Jian nor Yang Guang could refuse, and even welcomed.
The standard of a nation is also the barrier of rules.
What he had to do was not to challenge it, but to be like the most patient craftsman, to find that possible crack, a place to maneuver, in this seemingly impenetrable wall of laws.
The night deepened and thickened on the window paper.
The candlelight in the study was steady, casting his shadow on the bookshelf behind him, overlapping with the silent bamboo slips.
The battlefield after the fierce battle has long since receded, and now is the time for silent deduction, a time that belongs solely to the chess players.
The road ahead is long, and the first step must be taken silently, but steadily.