IDWBE -Chapter 528 Naming the Child

Only through constant invention and creation can human society continue to progress.

The craftsmen and scholars of this era already had a fairly good understanding of mechanical structures like gears and connecting rods. More complex technologies—such as water-powered mills, hydraulic textile machines, and shipbuilding—were already quite advanced.

Even their steelmaking technology was first-rate.

It was far from the backwardness Lin Yi had imagined.

The only real flaw was that people valued “practical results” but lacked a systematic scientific theory.

The skills and techniques of master craftsmen were rarely written down, recorded, or quantified.

When a craftsman died, if he had an apprentice the knowledge might survive; if not, the craft simply disappeared.

To address this, Lin Yi organized all kinds of invention competitions across Liang, using large cash prizes to attract the best “inventors.”

Even if it was like a blind cat stumbling upon a dead mouse, eventually a few outstanding talents would emerge.

Many of these people were illiterate, so he sent them all to the newly established Great Liang Academy of Sciences for retraining.

Literacy was the first priority.

After that, they were taught mathematics, physics, and chemistry, and given basic explanations of steam power and the laws governing nature.

Finally, they were encouraged to hold frequent “academic” meetings, discussing ideas together in hopes that sparks of inspiration might appear.

In short, Lin Yi was paying to support all of them.

Although he was normally very stingy, he was extremely generous with these people.

Last year alone, he allocated 500,000 taels of silver.

In their hometowns these men were known as skilled individuals, but their crafts only allowed them to barely support their families, and they held little social status.

But in Ankang City, they suddenly transformed from ugly ducklings into phoenixes.

Not only did they have secure jobs guaranteed regardless of drought or flood, the money they earned in one year exceeded what they might earn in a lifetime.

Afraid they might one day be dismissed, they worked desperately to invent something that would satisfy the imperial court.

“Your Highness is absolutely right,” He Jixiang said with a bow. “Recently the Agricultural Academy asked sea merchants to import several crops from overseas for experimental planting. I even allocated one thousand mu of land nearby for them.”

Lin Yi knew exactly what he meant.

Potatoes.

Although he rarely paid special attention to court affairs, he was particularly concerned about agriculture and technological innovation.

Some time ago in Jizhou, Pan Duo had submitted a memorial mentioning potato trials. Lin Yi had personally written instructions to expand the planting area.

“I know about it,” Lin Yi said. “That crop is called potato. It’s very easy to grow, and the yield should be no lower than sweet potatoes. People will probably get tired of eating sweet potatoes every day. This one shouldn’t be a problem. You must work hard to expand the planting areas. In the future, it will also serve as a defense line for food security.”

He had heard that foreigners treated mashed potatoes as a staple food.

Perhaps it was similar to rice or wheat.

Either way, it should be better than eating sweet potatoes all the time.

“Your Highness is knowledgeable beyond compare. This old minister admires you sincerely,” He Jixiang said honestly.

Sometimes he truly admired Prince He’s unique views and insights into unusual crafts and techniques.

Lin Yi said casually, “You people have many strengths—experience, prudence, stability in handling affairs. But you also have many weaknesses. You’re too easily trapped in old ways and resistant to new things. As I’ve said before, you must broaden your thinking. Don’t be afraid of making mistakes. If you want to play it safe, you can run pilot projects, but don’t reject ideas before even trying them. Recently someone from the Imperial Astronomical Bureau applied to build an astronomical observatory on the mountain at White Horse Temple. You rejected it because you thought it wasted resources and burdened the people. That was wrong. You should encourage them. Even though I don’t believe in fortune-telling, those people are good at observing weather and celestial phenomena, and that deserves support. Besides, the missionaries among them have real skills. Zixia once invited them to teach at the school, and I attended some lectures—they were excellent. You shouldn’t replace them with scholars from the ‘shi’ class. Instead, encourage them to bring their fellow countrymen and relatives here, and offer generous salaries. Whether they’re foreigners or Liang citizens, anyone who contributes is a good person.”

The West in this world differed in many ways from the West in Lin Yi’s previous life.

But from the stories of missionaries and sea merchants, many similarities remained.

They had also experienced something like a Renaissance.

Mathematics, painting, sculpture, architecture, philosophy, and astronomy were all flourishing.

Overseas colonial expansion and the slave trade also looked remarkably similar to Europe.

Most interestingly, on an island in the West there was also a queen named Basingseier.

She had not yet reached adulthood.

He Jixiang blushed. “This old minister understands.”

“Every time you say you understand,” Lin Yi complained, “but every time the results are different. Let me repeat: you must distinguish priorities. Right now, Liang’s most important task is economic development and feeding the people. But that doesn’t mean we should hesitate to invest heavily in education and scientific research. Let the talented people of the world know that if they have ability, the court will not be stingy with money. Sometimes you must even do things like spending a thousand gold pieces just to buy a horse’s bones.”

“Yes,” He Jixiang replied gloomily.

He had served Prince He for many years and knew his temperament well.

This time the prince seemed truly dissatisfied.

A few days later, after reflecting carefully, He Jixiang hurriedly instructed the Ministry of Rites to supervise the Imperial Astronomical Bureau in selecting an auspicious time for the naming ceremony of the newborn heir.

At the same time, the Hanlin Academy reviewed names previously granted to members of the royal clan to avoid duplication.

They also prepared several suggested names for Lin Yi to choose from.

Lin Yi sat at his desk holding a red brush.

He scribbled and crossed things out on the memorial but still couldn’t come up with a suitable name.

Royal naming rules stated:

No names using sun or moon

No names using the nation’s name

No names implying illness or misfortune

In simple terms, common characters and unlucky meanings were forbidden.

Otherwise officials and commoners would constantly have to avoid using those characters.

After Lin Baozhi ascended the throne, he even invited a famous “mystic” to establish a naming system for his descendants.

The second character indicated the generation.

The third character had to follow the Five Elements cycle.

Thus among the royal family there were names like Lin Qiao, Lin Qi, Lin Xiao, Lin Jing, Lin Jin, and so on.

However, after the Emperor Yongguang, this system was abandoned.

By the time of Lin Yi’s father, the rules were ignored entirely.

With so many children and endless affairs of state, who had time to carefully name every child?

Even the suggested names from the Hanlin Academy were rarely read.

Except for the Crown Prince Lin Zhan, whose name was chosen with care, the rest were given casually.

For example, Lin Yi’s own name.

Now it was Lin Yi’s turn.

He didn’t care much about following the rules.

Either way was fine.

As long as the name sounded good and was easy to pronounce.

Unfortunately, he didn’t like the names suggested by the Hanlin Academy—and he couldn’t think of any himself.

After a hundred years of the dynasty, the imperial clan had countless descendants.

Almost any name risked being duplicated.

Thus royal names gradually became filled with rare and obscure characters.

Otherwise, what could they do?

Common characters had to be used carefully, yet duplication had to be avoided.

Even when Lin Yi finally thought of a few, He Jixiang and the other old officials rejected them.

It was simply too difficult.

Standing beside him, Zixia massaged his shoulders and said, “Your Highness, perhaps you should take a break?”

She couldn’t help but feel shocked.

The difference between having a son and having a daughter was enormous.

When Hu Miaoyi, the princess consort, gave birth to a daughter, Lin Yi casually chose a name and the entire court celebrated happily.

But Mingyue, merely a maid like herself, had given birth to a son, and suddenly the entire court was unsettled.

They were even holding a formal naming ceremony—something the princess never received.

Still, she dared not say more.

“Forget it,” Lin Yi said, pressing his hand against his forehead.

He glanced at the memorial and said, “Let’s call him Lin Yan.”

He circled the name with his red brush.

Hong Ying quickly took the memorial and said with a flattering smile, “Your Highness is wise. This name avoids taboos, won’t duplicate others, and carries profound meaning. It couldn’t be better.”

Lin Yi sighed. “Then it’s settled.”

---

The weather in Ankang City gradually cleared.

The days became hotter and hotter.

More and more people from Sanhe in the south arrived.

Groups of elephants and horses moved through the streets transporting goods.

“You useless lot!” shouted Sun Chongde’s mother, who was sweeping the streets. “Don’t you know to put a dung bag on those animals?”

She was the only sanitation worker who dared to curse like that.

She had lived in Baiyun City in Sanhe for years and used to sweep the streets there, so many of the Guizhou traders recognized her face.

They simply laughed and led their elephants away, pretending not to hear.

Still angry, she scolded Jiang Yi, who was maintaining order nearby.

“You officials don’t have to clean the streets, so you pretend you don’t see it? Control them properly! If you keep ignoring this, I’ll report you to Prince He’s Mansion!”

Jiang Yi hurriedly smiled. “Aunt Sun, you don’t understand. They’re delivering military supplies, so we allowed them into the city.”

In Baiyun City, older women were feared because many were martial artists or relatives of high-ranking fighters.

In Ankang City, older women were also not to be provoked.

There was an old saying:

If you haven’t been to Ankang City, you don’t realize how small your rank is.

The woman in front of you on the street might be the wife or mother of an official or soldier.

Jiang Yi had long adopted the principle: less trouble is better.

“You think you can fool me?” Aunt Sun snorted. “The military camp is outside the city. What are they bringing inside for?”

Jiang Yi replied, “There are also the garrison battalion, city guard, and palace guards inside the city.”

“That explanation barely works,” she said. “But this pile of dung is disgusting. Make them put dung bags on their animals!”

Otherwise she would complain to his superiors.

Terrified, Jiang Yi immediately agreed.

“Small matter, small matter! I’ll give the order right away—no dung bags, no entry!”

Just then a carriage slowly approached, escorted by Lei Kaishan and Jiao Zhong.

Jiang Yi nearly lost his soul.

He grabbed the broom and dustpan from Aunt Sun and quickly shoveled up the dung.

If Prince He saw that pile on the street, he would surely be blamed.

The sanitation workers immediately washed the street with water.

Only after the carriage passed did everyone sigh in relief.

---

The sun hung high.

Inside the stifling carriage, Lin Yi finally couldn’t stand it and stripped off his upper garment.

When he reached the palace gate, he hesitated—but still didn’t put on his robe.

He walked in wearing only short sleeves, shorts, and wooden clogs.

The guards didn’t even blink.

They had seen it many times before.

But the Crown Prince, waiting in Changqing Palace, was stunned.

After a long silence, he finally said, “The Regent truly is extraordinary, capable of extraordinary things.”

Lin Yi grinned. “Forgive the sight, brother. This cursed weather is too hot.”

He kicked off his clogs, sat cross-legged on a large chair, grabbed a slice of watermelon, and said: “This fruit was imported from overseas when I was in Sanhe. It’s called watermelon. Very sweet. When chilled in summer, it’s perfect for cooling off. Brother, have a taste.”

The Crown Prince cautiously took a slice and bit into it.

After chewing slowly, he said, “Sweet and refreshing. Truly remarkable.”

Lin Yi laughed. “If you like it, I’ve planted a large patch in the imperial garden. They should ripen soon. Help yourself whenever you want.”

Throughout the palace grounds, Lin Yi had ordered people to plant practical crops wherever land was empty.

Pear trees, peach trees, cherries, apples—and especially watermelons.

He had even once suggested turning the empty palace halls into greenhouses for winter vegetables.

But the idea had been immediately rejected.

Two words: nonsense.

Four words: improper conduct.

So instead he let the Ankang Agricultural Academy experiment outside the city.

Without plastic film, the greenhouses had thatched roofs that blocked light and airflow.

He wasn’t sure vegetables would even grow.

But he said nothing.

Only practice could produce real knowledge.

After living in this world for over twenty years, he had grown used to the slow pace.

Without modern industry, both agricultural and primitive societies could only do things “roughly” and “more or less.”