Returning to Yuqing Palace, Yinreng saw it was still early and headed straight for his study.
The System, however, was buzzing with anxiety.
[Host!] it pinged. [Was your conversation with Emperor Kangxi today not dangerously out of character? You have two lifetimes of memories, but to the outside world, you are only six years old! By demonstrating such advanced administrative and strategic planning for the quarantine zone, aren't you afraid they will suspect something unnatural?]
Yinreng scoffed softly, picking up a calligraphy brush. "Suspect what? That I am a demon possessing the Crown Prince? A few clever ideas hardly make me a monster. Every era has its prodigies. In my past life, there were thirteen-year-olds entering top universities. History is full of them too."
He dipped the brush in ink. "Gan Luo became a chancellor at twelve. Cai Wenji mastered music theory at six. Fang Xuanling predicted the fall of the Sui Dynasty as a child. Yuan Jia could simultaneously paint a circle with his left hand, a square with his right, dictate a poem, count sheep, and write with his toes. Compared to them, what is a little logistical planning?"
Yinreng paused, his expression turning serious. "More importantly, I am the original Yinreng. My personality, preferences, and habits are completely authentic. I am not faking anything because I am him. Who would doubt my very soul?"
[...That is a valid point,] the System conceded.
"Furthermore," Yinreng added sharply, "I must display extraordinary genius. The smarter and more capable I appear now, the sooner Imperial Father will grant me political authority. And the sooner I have authority, the sooner I can actually implement the advanced technologies from your database on a national scale."
[Understood. However, perhaps you should—]
"Stop," Yinreng interrupted ruthlessly. "Your function is to issue tasks, verify completion, and dispense blueprints. Strategic planning is not your forte. Remember, you are a 'Technological Rejuvenation System,' not a 'Million-Man Military Tactician System.' If I actually followed your political advice, I would be dead in a week."
[...] The System wisely chose to shut down its audio output.
Ignoring the silent System, Yinreng focused on his books. Several days later, he finally completed the grueling task: [Memorize the Four Books and Five Classics in their entirety.]
He let out a long breath. The task had been agonizingly tedious, but thanks to the combined cognitive capacity of his two lifetimes and modern mnemonic techniques, he had conquered it.
As a reward, the System dispensed a comprehensive modern agricultural manual. Yinreng, having zero background in farming, immediately began reading. Whenever he encountered an unfamiliar term—like nitrogen fixation or crop rotation—he demanded explanations from the System. To its credit, the System was an excellent teacher, patiently explaining concepts and projecting educational videos directly into his mind.
Just as Yinreng was engrossed in a lecture on soil pH, Xiaozhu, his head eunuch, knocked on the door. "Your Highness! The Emperor has sent word. He requests you change into inconspicuous civilian clothing and attend him immediately."
'Civilian clothing? Inconspicuous?' Yinreng's eyes lit up. He threw off his formal robes, allowed the servants to dress him in a plain but high-quality silk tunic, and sprinted toward Qianqing Palace.
Emperor Kangxi was waiting, dressed as a wealthy merchant.
"Imperial Father!" Yinreng cheered. "Are we leaving the palace?!"
Kangxi chuckled at the boy's excitement. "You are too sharp."
Yinreng grabbed Kangxi's arm and tugged impatiently. "Then let's go! If we wait, we won't have enough daylight to play outside!"
"Are you that desperate to leave?" Kangxi sighed, though he didn't pull his arm away.
"Of course! The outside world is fascinating!"
Kangxi initially wanted to scold him for prioritizing play over study, but he stopped himself. Analysis: Yinreng loved to play, but he never neglected his duties. He had mastered the classics, excelled in archery, and even the foreign tutor, Ferdinand Verbiest, constantly praised his genius. More importantly, Yinreng's "play" often resulted in national benefits, like the glass formula or the cowpox quarantine protocols.
Kangxi's heart softened. "Very well. Let us go."
***
The moment they passed the palace gates, Yinreng became a whirlwind of curiosity. The last time he left the palace to visit the glass workshop, he had been confined to a carriage. This time, he intended to experience the streets of Beijing firsthand.
He dragged Kangxi from stall to stall, touching everything and interrogating the terrified merchants.
At a fruit stand: "Why is this orange skin green? Do you grow them from the seeds inside? How many years until a tree bears fruit? Why are some sour and some sweet? Can you artificially increase the sugar content?"
At a pastry stall: "This is delicious! What is the exact ratio of flour to sugar? What secret spices are you using?"
The merchants were sweating bullets, convinced this wealthy, hyperactive child was either a corporate spy or completely insane. It was only because Xiaozhu quietly slipped them extra silver that they tolerated the endless interrogation with strained smiles.
Eventually, a street performing troupe caught Yinreng's eye. He watched in awe as they smashed rocks on a man's chest, breathed fire, and made coins vanish.
His scientific curiosity ignited. He cornered the troupe leader. "How did the paper ignite spontaneously? Did you coat it in white phosphorus? And the sword swallowing—is the blade retractable, or is it a matter of suppressing the gag reflex and aligning the esophagus?"
The troupe leader panicked. This kid was trying to expose their trade secrets! If he succeeded, they would starve!
Before the man could flee, Kangxi grabbed Yinreng by the collar and hoisted him into the air like a misbehaving kitten.
"Ah! Father! Put me down! I haven't figured out the combustion trick yet!" Yinreng flailed.
"If you ask one more question, they are going to beat you to death," Kangxi warned, carrying him away.
"Impossible," Yinreng scoffed, dangling in the air. "Our hidden guards would kill them first. Besides, street performers survive by reading people. They can tell from our clothes that we are aristocrats. This is Beijing. If you throw a brick, you'll hit three ministers and an imperial duke. They wouldn't dare lay a finger on me."
Kangxi: '...He is not wrong, but why does he use his genius to justify harassing magicians?'
"Let me go back! I need to know about the sword!"
Kangxi sighed, a deep, soul-weary sound. He set Yinreng down and grabbed his hand firmly. "Enough. We have a more important destination."
Yinreng's eyes went wide. "Did Physician Liu send word? Did the cowpox trial succeed?!"
"It has only been a few days," Kangxi laughed helplessly. "Science takes time. Furthermore, the quarantine zone is highly infectious. Do you honestly think I would let the Crown Prince near it?"
Yinreng tilted his head, confused. "Then where are we going?"
Kangxi smiled mysteriously and led him through the bustling streets until they reached the affluent Qianmen Avenue. They stopped in front of a newly renovated, incredibly luxurious storefront.
The shop was dazzling. It was filled entirely with glass products—from practical cups and vases to intricate glass cranes and floral centerpieces. The undeniable centerpiece, however, was a massive, two-meter-tall silvered glass mirror embedded in the wall, framed with crushed glass mosaics. Beside it hung a magnificent golden glass-paneled clock.
The shopkeeper rushed over. It was Alinbao, a trusted confidant of Songgotu.
Alinbao was shocked to see them but maintained his composure, recognizing they were incognito. "Master Huang, Young Master Huang, please come inside. We have a private tearoom. My master is currently away on official business, but I will send for him immediately."
"No need," Kangxi waved a hand. "I just brought the boy to see the place. I know your master is busy with an important assignment. Leave us; we will just rest here for a moment."
Alinbao bowed and swiftly exited.
Once they were alone, Yinreng lowered his voice, vibrating with excitement. "Imperial Father! Is this run by the Ministry of Works?"
Analysis: It couldn't be. The Ministry of Works didn't run commercial retail stores. And if they did, they wouldn't use a manager from the Hesheli clan (Songgotu's family).
Kangxi shook his head. "I granted Songgotu special imperial permission to continue operating his private glass workshop and to sell the products."
Yinreng's jaw dropped.
Context: After the glass formula was perfected, it became state property. Songgotu was supposed to shut down his private kilns. But Kangxi had just legalized a private monopoly on the most lucrative luxury good in the empire!
"I heard," Kangxi said slowly, watching Yinreng's reaction, "that you emptied the vast majority of your private treasury and gave it to Songgotu to fund Physician Liu's quarantine estate. Eradicating smallpox is a state priority, and that research is expensive."
Yinreng smiled brightly. "I do not need money, Father. I live in the palace; everything is provided for me."
This was technically true, but misleading. Yinreng received mountains of priceless antiques as gifts, but very little liquid cash. However, his deceased mother, Empress Xiaochengren, had left behind a colossal dowry and private fortune. Kangxi had preserved every copper coin of it for Yinreng. It was this fortune Yinreng was currently burning through to fund the System's technologies.
"I know you are wealthy," Kangxi said gently. "But state matters should not drain your inheritance. Songgotu has performed a great service in organizing the research. This glass shop is my compensation to both of you."
Yinreng blinked, the political math clicking instantly.
Conclusion: Kangxi was using Songgotu as a proxy. The Emperor was essentially granting Yinreng a perpetual money-printing machine to silently fund all his future "extracurricular" scientific projects without alerting the Ministry of Revenue or triggering court factionalism. As the Hesheli clan was fiercely loyal to the Crown Prince, Yinreng would effectively control at least seventy percent of the shop's staggering profits.
The System finally realized what was happening.
[Host! Did you intentionally pay for the quarantine zone yourself, knowing Kangxi would reimburse you with an infinitely more profitable monopoly?!]
Yinreng mentally smirked. "Don't be ridiculous. I am not a prophet. I couldn't predict he would give me a glass store."
He had simply funded the project to speed up the tech tree. However...
"I may not have predicted the exact method," Yinreng added smugly, "but I knew my Imperial Father would never let me suffer a financial loss for helping the empire."