Time flew like an arrow, and the year reached 137, the fifth year of Chongdao's reign in Great Qian.
The young Emperor Chongdao had finally grown into a six-year-old child.
In Orchid Pavilion Ward in the north of the city, Yue Dongyang and the others gathered frequently for discussions, beginning to fret over a matter of paramount importance: selecting the emperor's tutors.
Since ancient times, Great Qian Emperors had received a Confucian education. They practiced ritual and revered learning, studied propriety and cultivated virtue; only with benevolence in their hearts could they become sages within and kings without. This was also necessary for political balance. Great Qian's Confucians and its imperial authority had maintained a tacit understanding for a million years, ensuring the continuation of each other's power and position.
Under the Great Qian Dynasty's system, they could hardly find some boorish warrior to teach a prince or a new emperor to brandish spears and swing clubs.
Although many emperors of the Great Qian Dynasty practiced martial arts, they stopped at strengthening their bodies. They did not become martial Dao masters, much less personally enter a battlefield to fight and temper themselves through trials of life and death.
Thus, this was an internal Confucian affair. The martial establishment could not compete for it, nor would it try.
Demon cultivators were even further out of the question. Aside from the Zhang Mountain lineage, which occasionally produced fox spirits who clung to dragons and phoenixes to become mistresses of the imperial harem, or competed among the common folk for titles as courtesan queens and beauties to gather fortune, none had ever been able to intervene in this sphere.
Yet there were also schools within Confucianism. Each academy possessed its own historical lineage and core doctrines. Whenever a new emperor ascended the throne,