Echoes of My Heart Throughout the Court

Chapter 241: I Shouldn’t Have Let Their Familys Ancestral Grave Off Back Then! (2 / 2)



Chapter 241: I Shouldn’t Have Let Their Familys Ancestral Grave Off Back Then! (2 / 2)

It didn’t matter—this minister could be argued against too!

They opened their mouths again.

[I like this idea!]

[Although it seems playful, it spreads faster than any decree about women’s rights.]

—The Chinese people have a natural inclination to follow trends and authority. Sometimes, jokes leave a deeper impression than laws.

The moment Bai Ze’s inner thoughts were revealed, the faces of the conservative ministers turned red with frustration.

They exchanged silent glances.

‘You go.’

‘Why don’t you go?’

‘I just took in my eighth concubine recently. We tried many… positions. Seven nights in a row! If that gets exposed, I’d lose face!’

‘I… I recently built a sheep pen in my courtyard. I can’t let that be known either.’

‘It’s just raising sheep. What’s the big deal?’

‘It’s nothing.’

The truth was, the sheep’s backside was quite… plump, and its bleating was… well, there was no need to share this detail with colleagues.

The ministers glared at each other so fiercely they nearly gave themselves cramps, but not one of them dared to step forward.

This perfectly demonstrated the scholar’s spirit of “I’ll reason with you, but you go die in my place.”

On the dragon throne, the old emperor’s brows climbed higher and higher, clearly displeased with the Crown Prince’s words.

However, considering the Crown Prince’s authority and reputation among the ministers, he refrained from speaking out, instead silently plotting how to lecture his son after court.

And as for the Minister of Works—what was he meddling for? Wasn’t “female household heads” already enough?

Smoothly switching topics, the emperor turned to the European visitor and asked, “I’ve heard your people have a great deal of knowledge about the stars in the sky?”

The interpreter responsible for translating the emperor’s words relayed them to the European envoy.

This seemed to hit the visitor’s sweet spot, as their voice grew noticeably more excited.

They explained how they had calculated Jupiter to be 12,076,795,849 li away from Earth, and Saturn to be 20,577,056,489 li away.

They also mentioned Mars, Venus, and Mercury…

European astronomy was truly dazzling. Many officials with an interest in such studies listened intently, their eyes wide, the sunlight reflected in their pupils flickering faintly.

Initially, everyone was enraptured by the presentation, but then a faint sigh was heard: [European astronomy is indeed ahead of us right now.]

Some officials were about to bristle in displeasure, but upon realizing it was Bai Ze’s inner thoughts, they froze in place.

Xu Yanmiao tilted his head and looked at Lian Hang. “What’s the matter?”

Why was he suddenly staring at him?

Lian Hang’s facial muscles twitched slightly as he feigned contemplation. “Xu Lang, listening to how the Europeans study the stars, I can’t help but feel a bit unnerved—how exactly are these numbers calculated?”

Xu Yanmiao carefully chose his words. “I’m not entirely sure, but I’ve vaguely heard that Europe has theories about celestial motion, sunspots, and planetary motion. They’ve even developed telescopes specifically for observing the stars. Perhaps their calculations are possible because they prioritize this field.”

[But clearly, China has the Gan Shi Star Manual, and the data from it is still used today by many to measure the positions and movements of the sun, moon, and planets.]

[China also has the Dunhuang Star Atlas. Before the European Renaissance, they had nothing comparable to it.]

Bai Ze’s inner thoughts sounded a bit melancholic.

[But later, even the Imperial Astronomical Bureau had to bring in Hui astronomers.]

[It’s true that successive dynasties valued astronomy, encouraging scholars to understand it and requiring the Ministry of Rites to recruit people knowledgeable in astronomy and geography. But ultimately, the Four Books and Five Classics became the proper path.]

Had anyone else spoken like this, the officials would have dismissed it, firmly believing that Western knowledge originated from the East and that, no matter what, the East was superior to the West. However, since these thoughts came from Bai Ze, it was as though their blood was boiling.

How could China be inferior to the barbarians?!

It was just astronomy, after all—they could also prioritize it! It wasn’t too late to make an effort now!

Moreover, their ancestors had once been the world leaders in astronomy. For their descendants to now fall behind—it was utterly shameful!

The old emperor, sensing the growing tension, didn’t let it fester. He quickly calmed himself.

—Even if they couldn’t catch up, it didn’t matter. Sharpen their swords and seize other nations. Wouldn’t their advancements become part of the Great Xia Empire’s progress then?

The only question was… was astronomy even worth the effort?

The old emperor began to weigh the value of this field.

[Forget it, maybe this is just the inevitability of history.]

[After all, the previous dynasty experienced over a century of war and chaos, so a regression in astronomy is perfectly… wait! No! I can’t just let this slide!]

Xu Yanmiao’s inner thoughts suddenly tightened with urgency.

The court of Great Xia immediately tensed up—they had rarely seen Xu Yanmiao in such a state of urgency, as if facing a great enemy.

What had happened?

[A regression in the calendar means inaccuracies in determining the seasons! Specifically, errors in calculating the precession of the equinoxes… which means the spring equinox date calculated by the court is inaccurate!]

Even with Xu Yanmiao’s limited agricultural knowledge, he understood that farmers relied on the court to inform them of the precise spring equinox date to manage their fields accordingly.

The old emperor, who was far more knowledgeable about farming, instinctively jolted upright but forced himself to sit back down slowly. His gaze, however, was filled with uncertainty and alarm.

“So that’s why…”

No wonder the yield per mu was significantly lower compared to Liang and Chu.

Take wheat as an example: the timing of the spring equinox is critical. It marks the jointing stage of wheat growth. If there’s plenty of rain, all is well. But in cases of drought, it becomes essential to irrigate the wheat during the jointing stage. If there’s no nearby water source for irrigation, then measures like intertillage for moisture retention must be taken. Without an accurate spring equinox date, farmers wouldn’t know when to water the crops.

If wheat lacks sufficient nutrients, the crop will fail during this critical stage. At harvest, the ears of wheat will be small and sparse—how could that possibly feed families?

—Experienced farmers might rely on their intuition to judge the right time to irrigate, but how many such skilled farmers exist in the empire? Most people rely on guidance from the government to manage their crops.

“From the early Zhou to its collapse, over a span of 242 years, even when discrepancies in lunar eclipses or inaccuracies in the calendar were observed, never once did the Zhou emperors send people to make adjustments.”

Emperor Tiantong furrowed his brows and gritted his teeth. “And now I have to clean up their mess!”

He regretted not digging up their ancestral graves back then!

Wait…

Maybe it’s not too late even now?


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