Iron Dynasty Chapter 1045

Qingzhou.

As battles raged in Southeast Asia, Xiao Ming fretted over the tangled web of state affairs.

Foreign foes defeated, external strife faded away, yet internal divisions abruptly stood out starkly.

He knew this was mere illusion. Internal issues had long simmered, merely masked by relentless wars.

Newspapers brimmed with tales of northern and southern campaigns, riveting public gaze on battles abroad.

“Establish a noble school! Who proposed this rotten idea?” Xiao Ming scowled at Pang Yukun.

Helplessness crossed his face as he replied, “Normally, such a minor issue wouldn’t burden Your Majesty, yet clashes between poor and noble students in academies grow fiercer. Noble offspring often harass the poor ones. Newspapers, wary of angering the mighty, mostly ignore it. Only during my inspections of academies did I stumble upon a petition directly to the emperor.”

“A petition to the emperor? Why haven’t any such memorials reached me!” Xiao Ming’s brow furrowed deeply.

Pang Yukun’s anger flared at the mention. “Jizhou officials, dreading loss of their posts, dispatched watchers over complaint-filing commoners. Years of pent-up grievances among the people escaped the court’s notice, all due to this.”

Indignation surged in Xiao Ming. From his throne’s start, he’d prized official integrity, yet now he saw the realm sliding into history’s grim cycle. Fury boiled hotter.

“A noble school? Hmph, pure fantasy. I strive to erase divides between elites and masses. This would squander every effort. And you, Chief Grand Secretary, can’t handle so trivial a problem?” Xiao Ming snapped sharply.

Pang Yukun’s aged cheeks burned crimson. “Your Majesty, too many elites back this now. Whispers say nobles plot private academies, claiming to ease imperial education strain, but truly for their heirs and merchants’ young. Some have lured top academy teachers with fat pay offers.”

Pausing, Pang Yukun added, “From lowly roots myself, I loathe widening rifts between humble and highborn. Yet no imperial law bars private schools now.”

Xiao Ming nodded faintly, grasping Pang Yukun’s intent. He sought an edict banning folk-run private schools, halting this divisive trend splitting rich from poor.

Xiao Ming endorsed the notion. From modern times, he knew skewed education fueled class chasms. Officials’ and wealthy heirs seized prime resources with coin and clout, leaving the destitute to starve. Thus brewed hatred for rich and mighty.

Like Pang Yukun’s trials, fine court edicts twisted in officials’ grasp. Top-down rules met bottom-up dodges—officials’ timeless creed.

“Which officials push these private schools?” Xiao Ming’s tone dripped icy menace. For over a decade, he’d honed blades on foes abroad. Some forgot those blades could turn homeward.

Hesitating briefly, Pang Yukun named them: “Chiefly Minister of Rites Wang Chengye, Duke Tang Xiao Yu, and reportedly Elder Fei’s brother-in-law.”

“Hmph, a top-rank minister and two royal kin. Heavy hitters indeed. We’ll make examples of them to cow the overbold.”

“How will Your Majesty proceed?” Pang Yukun inquired eagerly.

With a frosty smirk, Xiao Ming declared, “I’ve my methods to ensure private school bans pass smoothly. Return to the Cabinet, draft the edict.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Pang Yukun exhaled in relief. He could chide the Rites Minister but stood powerless against ancient ducal ties. Only the emperor could act.

Dismissing Pang Yukun, Xiao Ming summoned Qian Dafu, whispering orders.

Qian Dafu nodded, departing the palace.

He’d caught wind of noble-poor student clashes in schools but hadn’t gauged their depth.

Failing stern action now risked imperial foundations crumbling later. Elites did this; merchants could follow. Widening wealth gaps would breed endless woes.

Thus, he’d spin this into major headlines, proclaiming the private school ban.

Next day, Qingzhou Advanced School welcomed students routinely. Noble heirs and common youths shared the space, yet nobles clustered east, commons west, worlds apart, ignoring each other.

Class bell tolled; pupils filed in. Then a chill voice cut the air.

“Hey, peasant, wrong seat!”

Fei Tong, cigarette dangling, eyed the newcomer on the east side. Unspoken code reserved east for nobles, west for poor.

Noble youths guarded this fiercely; as classroom’s top scion, Fei Tong doubly so.

Spotting an unfamiliar poor lad in his zone, displeasure ignited.

Though sharing rooms, nobles shunned common kin. This rule-breaker stoked his rage.

“Teacher placed me here today. Beef with that? Complain to him. Who decreed only you sit here?” The youth shot back arrogantly at Fei Tong.

Fei Tong blanked on the lad’s name—too beneath notice. None here had ever defied him thus.

“Heh.” Fei Tong sneered. A peasant’s gall stunned him. Glancing at fellow nobles, he saw eager spectators.

They chafed at sharing with common rabble, itching for strife but lacking rank or nerve. They banked on leader Fei Tong—his great-grand sire sat in the Cabinet.