Chen Xun had barely voiced his objection when Yu Qian stepped out to support Hu Ying—and he supported him with all his might.
The Minister of Revenue could not help saying, "The Imperial Court does not lack talent at present. Elder Yu has repeatedly submitted memorials stating that the court has too many redundant officials, so why must we still cultivate talent?"
"Shortsighted!" Yu Qian said bluntly. "Talent is not confined to officialdom. Among all the trades and professions under heaven, which one does not need talented people?"
Hu Ying deeply agreed, endorsing Yu Qian's view with both hands and feet.
"What is called a strong people does not lie only in food, clothing, and shelter, but also in education. If our Ming Dynasty can ensure that every person eager to learn can read and write, understand rites and know propriety, only then can the people be called strong," Yu Qian said. "When the people are strong, the nation can prosper. When the nation prospers, the people grow still stronger, until all under heaven becomes one."
The more Yu Qian spoke, the more stirred he became, his eyes shining as though he had rediscovered the ambitions of his youth.
It had been too long. He had forgotten this feeling for far too long.
Before entering office, was this not the blueprint for the future he had envisioned?
The nation, the people—humanity itself—could all take another step forward.
Yet after entering office, he had devoted himself to disaster relief everywhere, rooting out corruption, and strengthening the borders. Not just him—how many ministers in court with lofty ambitions had done the same?
When the late Emperor was alive, their greatest goal had been to make the late Emperor draw close to worthy ministers and keep petty men at a distance, bring down