Chapter 358: The First Day in the Struggle for Supremacy World

Chapter 358: Day One of Falling Into a Hegemony Novel

The late spring breeze drifted down the corridor, stirring up a few withered crabapple petals that settled gently on the pages of the book An Yi had spread open.

He sat on a cushioned couch by the window, holding a scroll on military strategy. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the carved wooden lattice, casting shifting light and shadow across his moon-white robe.

"Young master, the master requests your presence in the study."

A servant stood three paces outside the door, his hands clasped before him. An Yi raised his eyes, his gaze resting warmly on the newcomer.

It was an old servant who had served the household for more than twenty years, his back slightly hunched.

"Understood. I will go at once." An Yi's voice came softly, gentle and clear, like a spring breeze brushing across the strings of a zither.

He set down the book and stood up unhurriedly. A maidservant standing nearby hurried forward to adjust his collar, but An Yi gently waved her away, smoothing out the slightly wrinkled sleeve himself.

Thirteen years had passed since he came to this world—thirteen years since he and Yu Ziyun closed their eyes together in their past life.

Thirteen years.

An Yi pushed open the door and walked along the corridor toward his father's study. The wisteria on both sides of the corridor was in full bloom, heavy clusters of blossoms hanging down, the air thick with their sweet fragrance.

He remembered walking this corridor for the first time when he was three, when he still had to stand on tiptoe to reach the patterns carved on the pillars. Now he was sixteen, tall and slender, his sleeves swaying gently as he walked, his bearing elegant and distinguished.

"Young master." Servants he passed along the way all stopped and bowed.

An Yi acknowledged each with a slight nod, a gentle smile always playing at the corners of his lips, making people feel instantly drawn to him.

As he walked, An Yi mused on the state of the world.

In this world, the emperor was fatuous, eunuchs held power, and the struggle between consort clans and aristocratic families was unending. Disasters struck frequently across the land, and bands of refugees roamed everywhere.

His grandfather An Xiu and father An Zheng were both great scholars renowned throughout the realm, with disciples and former officials scattered across the court and beyond.

And he, as the eldest legitimate grandson of the An clan, had been known as a child prodigy from a young age—entering the Imperial Academy at twelve, writing the "Treatise on Governance" at fourteen, and now at sixteen, he was already the young leader of the realm's scholars.

Perfect, like the protagonist of a novel.

But... where was the real protagonist?

An Yi clicked his tongue inwardly.

Having traveled through so many worlds, he had long grown accustomed to each world being a story. This one was no exception, no doubt.

But this time, things were unusually quiet. For thirteen years, he had heard no voices from the comment section, nor had he received any information from the original text.

He had to admit he missed it a little, though it wasn't much use.

But that was okay. It would come eventually.

And besides... the signs of impending chaos were already looming like storm clouds on the horizon, clearly visible.

Unfortunately... the people around him were still complacent, as if nothing was wrong.

"Big—Big Brother!"

A crisp call came from the side.

An Yi stopped and turned to see a young boy of four or five running toward him—his younger brother An Jin, his face still full of childish innocence.

"Walk slowly, little Jin." An Yi reached out to steady the boy, who had nearly tripped, his tone gentle. "In such a hurry—where are you off to?"

"Mother made me milk cakes, and I brought some for you, Big Brother!" An Jin's eyes sparkled with admiration as he looked up at his big brother. "They smell really good!"

An Yi smiled and ruffled his brother's hair. "Then I must thank you, little Jin."

He crouched down, took a piece of the handkerchief-wrapped pastry from An Jin's hand, and placed it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "Mmm, it really is."

An Jin hunched his shoulders and smiled shyly.

An Yi tweaked the little tuft of hair on top of his head and instructed the servants to keep an eye on the young boy. "Big Brother still has matters to attend to. Go play on your own now, be good."

An Jin said, "Okay!"

After calming his younger brother, An Yi continued on his way.

Rounding the end of the corridor, his father's study came into view. It was simple and elegant, with green brick and gray tiles, and a few bamboo stalks planted in the courtyard that rustled in the wind.

An Yi nodded to the gatekeeper and knocked on the door.

"Father, your son is here."

"Come in."

Pushing the door open, the scent of books and ink greeted him. The study was simply furnished—besides a wide desk and several shelves of books, only a scroll with the words "Rectify the Mind, Sincerity of Intent" in his grandfather's calligraphy hung on the wall.

An Zheng sat behind the desk. Though not yet forty, his temples were already streaked with gray.

"Sit." An Zheng pointed to the cushion in front of the desk.

An Yi sat down as instructed, sitting up straight. The father and son sat in silence for a moment before An Zheng spoke: "I read the copy of your memorial that you sent the day before yesterday."

An Yi lowered his eyes slightly. "What does Father think?"

"Speaking directly of the calamity of eunuchs, condemning the abuses of consort clans, even daring to say 'Heaven's disasters are warnings, man-made calamities are imminent.'"

An Zheng's voice gave nothing away: "Chuwei, do you know what the consequences would be if this memorial actually reached the emperor?"

"At best, dismissal from office; at worst, imprisonment and trial." An Yi answered calmly.

"Then why write it? Do you know what your grandfather intended when he chose your courtesy name?"

Chuwei—to be mindful of danger in times of safety.

An Yi raised his eyes, his gaze as clear as water: "Because it must be written. When everyone knows something, someone has to say it out loud. Because the An clan has studied the Xu Fang texts for generations—we understand righteousness, we know when to advance and when to retreat, and we know even more clearly when retreat is no longer an option."

The world was about to descend into chaos. Where would the people of this world go?

He had tried. The current emperor and the aristocratic clans were nothing but a bunch of pigs that deserved to die. They couldn't be reformed—better to kill them all.

The study fell quiet for a moment, the rustle of bamboo outside only making the stillness within feel deeper.

An Zheng stared at his son for a long while, then heaved a long sigh: "Your grandfather sent a letter from the palace yesterday, saying the Emperor has again listened to the likes of Yang Fei and dismissed Meng Chang from office. Meng Chang is your teacher."

"I know, Father." An Yi's voice remained steady: "Which is exactly why I have to write the memorial. If I kept quiet just because my teacher's in trouble, that would truly betray his teachings."

"You..." An Zheng hesitated, then shook his head: "You've always had your own mind, but the times are turbulent now, with undercurrents stirring in Yuncang City. Though you have a reputation, you are still young. I have decided to send you and your younger siblings back to our ancestral home in Siqi next month to take refuge for a while."

An Yi's heart stirred slightly. The great clans were beginning to disperse their younger members back to their ancestral lands, to make sure their family lines wouldn't die out.

This was one more sign that troubled times were coming.

He thought of the news he'd received lately—those people knew exactly what was coming.

"Father," he said softly, "if the world is truly about to descend into chaos, where can anyone hide?"

An Zheng's face hardened: "What do you mean by that?"

An Yi rose and walked to the window, gazing at the green bamboo swaying in the courtyard breeze: "Last year, floods struck Fenzhou, and the Chang River broke its banks at Yan Prefecture, leaving hundreds of thousands homeless. The court didn't do enough to help, and small bands of rebels have already begun gathering here and there. Father, do you really think this world can stay peaceful much longer?"

"How dare you!" An Zheng slammed his hand on the desk, then lowered his voice: "Is this the kind of thing you can just say out loud?"

An Yi turned around, still wearing that gentle smile, but his eyes gave nothing away: "There is only Father and myself here. Besides, haven't these thoughts crossed your mind, Father? Or Grandfather's? The An family, renowned for scholarship, respected by everyone—if the day of upheaval truly comes, can we stay out of it and come out unscathed?"

Silence fell over the study once more, this time lasting even longer—long enough to hear the water clock drip, drop after drop.