Minister Z invited 'him' to dinner again, this time at a highly reputable upscale restaurant on Zhuque Avenue.
That evening, 'he' arrived at the restaurant by carriage. The exterior of the restaurant resembled a精致 palace, with large red lanterns hanging at the entrance, a pair of majestic stone lions standing on either side of the door, and a golden, ornate door carved with luxurious cloud patterns. The eaves of the roof stretched out like wings of a flying bird, and two attendants in elegant attire stood at the entrance, smiling and welcoming each esteemed guest.
Stepping through the door, a mix of floral and wine aromas greeted 'him'. The hall was brightly lit, lavishly decorated, with many famous calligraphy and paintings hanging on the walls.
A waiter led 'him' to an elegant private room where Minister Z was already waiting. Seeing 'him', Minister Z quickly stood up, and after exchanging greetings, they both took their seats.
The private room was exquisitely furnished with redwood tables and chairs, embroidered tablecloths, and the table was set with delicate celadon wineware and fresh flowers. Through the window, the bustling night view of Zhuque Avenue was visible.
In the restaurant, the graceful singing of a courtesan drifted from a small stage nearby. Dressed in a silk gown, she danced gracefully, her melodious qin music and soft singing intertwined, full of charm. Her delicate and gentle voice turned all worries into softness, bringing joy to the mind.
"How have you been lately, Minister?" 'He' picked up a teacup and took a sip.
"Alas, not very well, that's why I've come to seek advice from you, sir," Minister Z said with a bitter smile, putting down his teacup.
"Recently, rumors have been spreading in the court that the border is tense, and there are even rumors that some military governors no longer fully obey the court's orders."
"This..."
They began to discuss the military governor system of the Tang Dynasty. Since the establishment of local military garrisons, the safety of the border increasingly depended on local generals. These men held significant military power and were difficult for the court to fully control. Governors like An Lushan commanded hundreds of thousands of troops, serving as both protectors of the border and the court's greatest threat, their ambitions always on the verge of exposure.
"Minister, I think you know that the current political corruption, factional strife, and weakening imperial power in the Tang Dynasty are inevitable fates that every dynasty struggles to escape. History always repeats itself."
"Can't history be changed?"
"Change? It's precisely because it's hard to change that it keeps repeating."
"But our Duke Zhengguo said, 'Learn from history as a mirror to understand the rise and fall of dynasties.'"
"In theory, that's correct, but in practice, it's difficult. If people could learn from historical lessons, history wouldn't keep repeating."
"So what the Duke said is just an ideal?"
"The wheel of history is too enormous, like ants under a wheel that can't see its true form. Even if the wheel is about to crush them, they are still ignorant, fighting over a crumb of food, unaware of the impending disaster."
"There must be some awake ants!"
"Yes, but not many."
"So they can't do much?" Minister Z sighed.
"Hehe..."
"So understanding history is useless?"
"You can't say that, but whether it's useful or not, it doesn't change the current situation."
"Even if we can see this wheel of history, with our ant-like strength, we can't turn or resist it. It's better to focus on our own history."
"Our own history?"
"Minister, living well and making our own history brilliant might be more important than worrying about that unchangeable wheel of history."
"Hmm, true." Minister Z raised his cup and took a sip of tea. "So, I can only be an ant that sees the wheel."
"You can also be an ant that avoids the wheel early."
"Hehe... You always manage to sort out a thread from chaos."
"Hehe... You flatter me!"
"To the awake ants!" Minister Z raised his cup towards 'him'.
"To you as well!"
The courtesan's singing was mournful, like weeping and lamenting, as if mourning the once great Tang Empire.
