Chapter 87 How Can We Fall Behind the Sky?

Chapter 87: Never Lag Behind the Heavenly Screen

"What's all this about?" She wasn't Yong'an from the Heavenly Screen, the one already in her twenties; how could she possibly answer such a question?

She couldn't be entirely sure either. As her experiences diverged more and more from those of her other self, she couldn't always accurately guess what the other Yong'an was thinking.

She only vaguely felt that such rumors must be useful to the other Yong'an—perhaps even critically important...

And the reason why the question preceding the answer, "How I wish the world could be my heir," was raised in the first place was that, by then, Yong'an had already reached the pinnacle of power. From military officers to civil officials, what they cared about wasn’t just their post-war future but their own fates as well.

Asking about heirs was just another way of urging her to ascend the throne.

*Your Majesty, it is time to don the dragon robe.*

But for her now, things didn’t need to be so complicated.

Great Ying was already established, its authority stable. After rooting out internal threats, all endeavors were flourishing. Unlike the Heavenly Screen’s timeline, she hadn't been stabbed by Huan Xuan, so her health was fine, and she was still far from her prime. Thus, certain matters could wait at least another decade before needing consideration.

Better to listen to what the Heavenly Screen would say next—perhaps there’d be other useful information.

Hearing the Emperor’s words, everyone turned their attention back—except for Zhang Dingjiang, who kept watching her for a while before suddenly speaking in a low voice.

Chancellor Xie happened to be standing beside Strategist Zhang and thus heard this startling remark.

"I’ve been thinking about something. Before, everyone assumed they’d be Emperor Yong'an’s Grand General Liu. Even after the Heavenly Screen revealed that this Grand General Liu was Liu Yu, there were still those competing for the role. Now that Her Majesty is young, and the Heavenly Screen hasn’t debunked the rumors about the next emperor’s origins, is it possible that in another decade or so, anyone might dare to believe they could be Emperor Jing?"

Xie Daoyun: "...?"

Wait a moment.

Forgive her for considering herself intelligent, but she had never once entertained such a possibility.

But this kind of "open competition" was completely unnecessary, wasn’t it?

"...Surely you’re not suggesting that this future Emperor Jing might have non-Han heritage, making it easier to cast doubt on their origins?"

Zhang Dingjiang shrugged. "Who knows? Her Majesty must have a clear vision of who will succeed her and how events under the Heavenly Screen will unfold. But the world is full of fools who don’t understand this. Who’s to say some wouldn’t come up with wild ideas—maybe even defect south for such a reason?"

"...Ah." Xie Daoyun was momentarily speechless, unsure whether to feel pleased or exasperated.

But upon further reflection, the whole notion seemed rather absurd.

Fortunately, the Heavenly Screen had already moved on, sparing her from dwelling on the matter.

[Let’s return to the topic of these official academy students.]

[The statement, "How I wish the world could be my heir," was not mere lip service. In truth, it was proof enough that gathering students of various ethnicities in one place and letting them compete in a different way could yield astonishing results. Emperor Yong'an’s talent pool was replenished within just a few years.]

[And what about Yao Xing and Tuoba Gui’s side?]

[The remnants of Liang State indeed caused little turmoil. With Fu Yan’s assistance, Chouchi caused Yao Xing quite a bit of trouble, but lacking manpower and geographical advantage, their impact was limited. Before Yao Xing could retaliate, Fu Yan had already advised Yang Sheng to abandon direct confrontation with Yao Xing and instead support Emperor Yong'an in retaking Shu.]

[Thus, Yao Xing had two years of peace—but this did not lead to any rapid advancement of Guanzhong’s strength.]

[Judging by his actions after inheriting his father’s legacy, he possessed the makings of a wise ruler—one who heeded his ministers’ counsel, promoted education in Guanzhong, and cared for his soldiers. Even if his strategic insight was slightly lacking, he was still a capable administrator for Guanzhong.]

[But afterward, his education policies went completely astray, focusing excessively on spreading Confucian teachings and religion.]

[The former could still be justified as a means to teach the Qiang people under his rule about Confucian virtues—thereby reinforcing his own authority. The latter, however, could only be described as placing personal interests above state governance.]

[The people of Guanzhong must have felt deeply conflicted. They saw Yao Xing ordering improvements to irrigation and farmland, striving to provide them with better conditions. They even saw him lower his own imperial rank in response to natural disasters. Yet they also witnessed Yao Xing undertaking lavish construction projects, building Buddhist temples, and allowing monastic orders—represented by Kumarajiva—to expand rapidly. The number of state-supported monks alone numbered over five thousand. It was as if such "cultural flourishing" could prove that the Qiang people had fully civilized.]

"..."

Hearing this, the people of Guanzhong couldn’t help but share troubled looks.

Indeed, as the Heavenly Screen said, Yao Xing was no ordinary ruler.

Chang’an had once been reduced to a deserted wasteland under Murong Chong’s tyranny. It was Yao Xing who gradually repopulated the area, registering households and distributing land, restoring it to what it was today.

After his earlier defeat, the first taxes Yao Xing raised were on salt, and the first wealth he seized was from the rich.

For this, they were grateful to him. Even knowing his actions were meant to stabilize Former Qin’s rule, the policies were clearly beneficial to the people.

But if he truly indulged in massive building projects and monastic expansion as the Heavenly Screen described, the burden would eventually fall upon them. No amount of past kindness could make up for that—leaving them unsure how to judge him.

They weren’t fools. They could hear the implicit comparisons in the Heavenly Screen’s words, revealing just how far Guanzhong lagged behind the south.

If given the choice, who wouldn’t want to belong to a wise ruler? Who wouldn’t wish to see the realm unified?

But Yao Xing...

He truly inspired both love and hate.

And just then, the Heavenly Screen continued—

[After the Battle of Chaibi, Helian Bobo and others declared independence, Shu was retaken by Yong'an, yet Yao Xing showed no remorse. Instead, he immersed himself further in religion. Worse still, he committed his gravest mistake.]

[The Battle of Chaibi and its aftermath dealt Yao Xing a severe blow. Old injuries from the Battle of Luoyang resurfaced, and the following year, his generals advised him to name a successor as soon as possible to prepare for the worst.]

[This time, Yao Xing didn’t flatly refuse as before. After months of deliberation, he finally relented: "Very well, an heir shall be named."]

[He could no longer guarantee his body would endure further strain.]

[That same year, news of Yong'an’s overseas trade with Western nations finally reached Guanzhong via the Silk Road. It dawned on him that her silence hadn’t been due to internal strife—but because she was gathering strength like a tiger lying in wait, poised to strike Guanzhong at any moment.]

[Then let an heir be named. Should he fall, this heir would bear the burden of facing Yong'an and Tuoba Gui’s challenge—just as he himself had campaigned to destroy Former Qin after Yao Chang’s death.]

Yao Xing cast a cold glance across the hall, unsurprised to see several of his younger sons avoiding his eyes, terrified their capricious father might push them forward to endure Yong'an’s fury.

But what use was anger now?

Even he needed tremendous courage to brace himself against Yong'an’s unceasing advances—how much harder must it be for his sons?

Yet even as he thought this, what he could not tolerate was—

"Hong’er, why are you retreating?!"

His eldest son, Yao Hong—the primary heir—had taken a fearful step back!

Yao Hong: "I..."

How could he admit he feared the Heavenly Screen’s next words would reveal that Yao Xing’s mistake was naming *him* crown prince? And in these troubled times, he couldn’t be sure if his father—who had shown signs of instability—might suddenly decide to sacrifice him as a sacrificial lamb.

Compared to Tuoba Gui, who killed the mothers of his heirs, it was hard to say which of them was less humane.

How could he *not* be afraid?

And as if answering his fears, the Heavenly Screen spoke again:

[Yao Xing ultimately designated Yao Hong as his heir, but Yao Hong was clearly unfit to be crown prince.]

[The officials of Later Qin once described Yao Hong when he was first appointed crown prince, saying he had "the virtue of reverence and kindness, a blessing to the realm." They praised Yao Hong for being obedient and virtuous, calling him a boon to the realm. Anyone with sense knew this was just lip service, with nothing else commendable left to say.]

[In peaceful times, terms like 'virtuous,' 'kind,' or 'filial' might suffice—at least one could praise him as a ruler capable of maintaining stability, as long as he didn’t end up being manipulated by his ministers. But in such chaotic times, is this really appropriate?]

Yao Hong’s legs trembled, and he immediately knelt down, almost as fast as Huan Xuan’s notorious kneel. "Father, I can’t be crown prince!"

But this kneel didn’t placate Yao Xing; instead, it infuriated him further.

Appointing the eldest son had always been the safest way to pick an heir. If, as the celestial screen suggested, he had deliberated carefully before naming Yao Hong as crown prince, then Yao Hong’s kneel was not a reasoned refusal of the position but a slap in his face!

Regardless of whether Yao Hong was still young and unable to grasp the full implications, a ten-year-old ought to know better.

Yao Xing’s fury was evident in his expression: "Get up and show some Qin royal backbone!"

"Your Majesty!" Yao Chong quickly interceded. "Hong is still young and doesn’t understand these things. Why take it out on him?"

"I’m young too, yet I know I should share my father’s burdens," a younger voice chimed in from the hall, pouring oil on the flames. It was Yao Xing’s other son, Yao Bi, just a year younger than Yao Hong but half a head taller and far sturdier.

"Enough, silence!" Yao Xing glared at him, forcing him to shut his mouth.

Gritting his teeth, Yao Xing sat back down, but the screen refused to let him rest.

[But honestly, whether Yao Hong was weak and incompetent had little to do with Qin’s downfall, since the kingdom lasted only two generations and was already lost under Yao Xing’s rule. In short, the crown prince remained just that—never becoming emperor—and thus wasn’t to blame for the kingdom’s fall.]

[The true mistake lies with Yao Xing himself.]

Yao Xing’s expression darkened once more. "..."

Yao Hong, however, perked up like he’d been pardoned, hardly daring to believe such a saving statement had been uttered.

Tension crept back into the court.

[Despite having decided to pass the throne to Yao Hong, Yao Xing treated his other sons far too well. Conventionally, one should divide his sons into two categories: the crown prince and everyone else. But Yao Xing didn’t do that.]

[What did he do? While appointing the crown prince, he also made his other eleven sons dukes. Among them, his favorite, Yao Bi, had already been named Duke of Guangping years earlier and was now granted additional fiefs and rewards, practically treating him as heir apparent.]

[A weak crown prince paired with a talented, beloved Duke of Guangping—how do you think this ends?]

[The year after appointing the crown prince, Yao Xing suddenly fell gravely ill due to old ailments. The Duke of Guangping openly revolted, leading troops to besiege the palace in an attempt to seize power. Of course, this coup achieved nothing. Instead, like some 'Qin miracle cure,' it shocked Yao Xing back to health, and he himself crushed the rebellion.]

Yao Bi, who had just spoken, went white as a sheet.

While Yao Hong had merely knelt, Yao Bi almost passed out then and there.

Only because Yao Xing was too preoccupied with the celestial screen did Yao Bi get a moment to catch his breath.

Staring blankly at the screen, he heard the voice—seemingly barely holding back laughs—say:

[But here’s the hilarious part: Yao Xing didn’t punish Yao Bi as he should have. Instead, he gave him a slap on the wrist!]

[That was the gravest mistake.]

[The immediate consequence was that Yao Xing’s temporary recovery didn’t reassure his court. Instead, it sent endless fear through them. Meanwhile, while most officials remained silent about the rebellion—only a few outspoken ones objected—beneath the surface, a storm was brewing. The court had silently split into three factions: the Yao Xing faction, the Yao Hong faction, and the Yao Bi faction, each vying for power. How could they possibly contend with Yong'an amid such infighting?]

[Two years later, Tuoba Gui died in an even crazier way than Yao Xing—at the hands of Tuoba Shao, who charged into the palace for his mother. Tuoba Si returned, executed his brother and stepmother, and ascended the throne, but Northern Wei also entered a period of instability.]

"..."

Yao Xing trembled, clutching his head.

A pounding ache fogged his mind.

The celestial screen’s mention of Tuoba Gui and his timeline of death brought no comfort or sense of shared suffering. Instead, a wild idea hit him:

Had Yong'an deliberately chosen an heir of unclear origins—even one suspected of being "found"—precisely because of the fates of himself and Tuoba Gui?

He had over a dozen sons, yet the mere act of appointing an heir and one rebellion had shattered his realm, leaving it vulnerable. Tuoba Gui, a brilliant ruler, had died at his own son’s hands due to poor succession planning.

Meanwhile, a child of dubious origins, widely doubted, had become Emperor Jing of Great Ying!

What kind of logic was this?

Was he truly inferior to Yong'an in every way?

The celestial screen offered no answer.

Its recounting of his and Tuoba Gui’s blunders even sounded almost thankful—because their mistakes had bought Yong'an more time.

That extra time wasn’t just for nurturing southern talent, stockpiling supplies for the northern campaign, or training elite troops. It was also the final preparation for her ascension.

She was already the uncrowned sovereign.

The celestial screen’s third phase was drawing to a close.

The young emperor Sima Dewen, who once ordered the city gates opened, had become a booze-addled recluse in the palace, awaiting death as an offering to Yong'an. In his constant terror, he finally climbed the palace walls one night and leaped to his death.

Perhaps he hoped his suicide would prove the Jin Dynasty’s lingering defiance or serve as a condemnation of Yong'an. But when one grew powerful enough, such stunts were just dust in the wind. The histories recorded only one line: "The Emperor, drunk, fell by accident."

He broke his limbs but survived, reduced to a puppet ready to sign abdication edicts.

And Yong'an, with years of built-up might, finally turned her gaze north.

She needed one last decisive victory to complete her coronation.

This path had been arduous—yet steady.

Even after the celestial screen vanished, many were still stunned.

It was the people of Jiankang who stirred first.

...

A voice suddenly rose from the crowd: "Your Majesty, what was the second half of your Land Tax Reform about?"

Others quickly echoed: "Yes, yes! Just say the word, and we’re on it!"

They had to muster their strength swiftly for the northern campaign.

Were they really gonna sit around watching the screen show Yong’an uniting the country while they stood idle below?

No—that must never happen!