Chapter 100: The Women's Rights Debate Begins, The Female Lead Breaks the Impasse and Displays Her Brilliance

Chapter 100: The Debate on Women's Rights Begins, The Female Lead Breaks the Siege and Shows Her Brilliance

The silence on the Golden Luan Hall was shattered when Lin Shiya's clear voice rang out like a pebble dropped into a still lake, sending ripples across the surface. She surveyed the assembly with a firm and steady gaze and spoke slowly, "Women also possess the capacity to establish themselves in the world."

Her words fell, and the court erupted like a cauldron of boiling water. The ministers broke into fervent whispers and discussions, shattering the previous stillness as though a heavy bomb had exploded, igniting a storm of debate. Some stared in astonishment, eyes wide as if they had heard a fantastic tale. Others displayed open contempt, their lips twisting into mocking expressions. Still others furrowed their brows tightly, evidently pondering the deeper implications of her statement.

"Lord Lin, your words are utterly incorrect!" Zhao Xueshi stepped forward, his voice stern and authoritative. He wore a deep blue official robe and a black gauze hat, his beard streaked with white and his features grave. Every gesture carried an unmistakable air of unquestioned authority. "Since ancient times, women have been entrusted with the management of the household, where the absence of talent is considered a virtue. How could they dare to expose themselves in public, involve themselves in the court, and meddle in state affairs?" His tone rose sharply, infused with disdain, as if Lin Shiya's words were a desecration of the sages.

Zhao Xueshi's opposition acted like a signal, instantly kindling the wrath of the conservative factions in the hall. They rose in unison—some passionately, others with righteous indignation—elaborating at length, citing classics and precedents, on why women should not participate in governance.

"Women belong in the home, serving their husbands and educating their children!" "Lord Lin's actions are a flagrant violation of human ethics!" The voices swelled like waves, as if they sought to drown out Lin Shiya entirely. Those scholars who ordinarily maintained a dignified facade now flushed red-faced and spittle flew with every passionate declaration, brandishing their learning as though they alone embodied truth.

A thick, acrid atmosphere of tension permeated the Golden Luan Hall. At the front row, Qian's wife displayed a look of contempt and added her voice, "Lord Lin, women should never expose themselves to the public; your stance will ruin our family's reputation!" Dressed in luxurious silk and heavy jewelry, fan in hand, she swept Lin Shiya with a disdainful glance, radiating the arrogance and prejudice of a great aristocratic matriarch.

Nüxue, the scholarly granddaughter, shrank into a corner. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but ultimately remained silent, her eyes veiled with hidden support and profound helplessness.

Wu the rich merchant sighed beside her, his merchant instincts making him fret over whether the reform would imperil his business.

Zheng Xiucai wavered inwardly yet, shackled by tradition, could only stay silent.

Bai Mama lurked in the shadows, watching the scene with sinister intent, as though awaiting her chance to sow opposition more widely.

Facing the tidal surge of opposition, Lin Shiya stood motionless, her gaze calm as still water, as though the tumult had no bearing on her. She remained unmoved, neither angry nor ruffled, only the faintest smile curving her lips, half mocking, half contemplative.

Just as everyone expected a rebuttal, she spoke again, her tone gentle, laced with gentle inquiry: "May the lords have heard of the remote antiquity, when women excelled in textile arts...?"

Lin Shiya's voice remained soft yet carried an almost magical power, gradually quieting the once-noisy court. She spoke unhurriedly, recounting the contributions of women in ancient times in textiles, medicine, and other fields. She listed the names of those women long buried in history, their wisdom and talent shining like stars across the long river of time.

The crowd exchanged bewildered glances; they had never viewed the worth of women from this perspective, and a flicker of doubt stirred in their hearts. The once-taut atmosphere in the court slowly dissolved under her distinctive narration, replaced by curiosity and wonder.

Yet after this brief calm, a greater storm was already brewing.

In Qian's wife's heart, fury burned. She felt grievously insulted and withdrew at once, returning home to summon the great ladies of every aristocratic family in the capital and begin plotting against Lin Shiya.

The next day, outside the court walls, pamphlets flooded every street. The broadsheets proclaimed "Women without talent is virtue" and "Women must take the three obediences and four virtues as their foundation," inciting the populace to resist the reform of women's rights. These pamphlets issued from the hands of the great ladies, who leveraged their wealth and influence to disseminate anti-reform sentiment throughout the capital.

In every alley and lane, citizens debated heatedly. Many, swayed by traditional views, began to harbor resentment toward Lin Shiya. The wavering masses were swept up by the overwhelming propaganda barrage, opposition growing louder and stronger, rolling onward like an avalanche.

Qian's wife stood triumphantly amid the crowd, watching the people she had incited, a sinister smile playing on her lips, as though she had already foreseen Lin Shiya's defeat.

As the sun set behind the western hills, golden light bathed the palace's glazed tiles, yet could not dispel the gloom that had settled over the capital. Lin Shiya stood at a palace window, gazing at the bustling streets beyond, her eyes deep and serene. She sighed softly and turned to her serving maid. "Go and invite them."

The palace gates opened, admitting a procession of women dressed in plain yet dignified attire. Among them were talented scholars steeped in poetry, skilled embroideresses, and artists proficient in calligraphy and painting. They were the women Lin Shiya had specifically brought into the palace to shatter the stubborn prejudice against female talent.

Melodious piano notes filled the hall. A woman's slender fingers danced across the strings, releasing a piece titled High Mountains and Flowing Water that flowed like clouds and water. The music rose and fell, alternately passionate and tender, as though voicing the resilience and tenderness of women. Emperor Murong Fu listened entranced, his eyes glowing with admiration.

Beside him, another woman wielded brush and ink, her strokes bold as dragons and serpents, rendering a sweeping landscape upon the paper. Distant peaks rose like ink, mist curling around the waters, the scene profound and invigorating. Even Zhao Xueshi, who had always scorned women's arts, nodded slightly.

The ensuing displays were dazzling. The women's talents shone like stars in the night sky, dazzling and resplendent. They composed impromptu verses, embroidered flowers and brocades with miraculous skill, and even demonstrated masterful medical techniques and arithmetic. The prepared rebuttals of the stubborn faction lodged in their throats, impossible to utter.

Meanwhile, the capital's busiest markets descended into chaos. Wu the rich merchant's hired literati painted vivid pictures of the "harms" the women's reform would inflict. "If women all study and take office, who will care for the household?" "If women expose themselves in public, won't that corrupt morals?" Their words inflamed the crowd, rumors spreading like wildfire. Even those who had supported the reform began to waver.

"Have you heard? Lord Lin wants women to hold office too, so men will do the laundry and cooking at home!"

"How can that be? Women belong in the home serving their husbands and educating their children; exposing themselves in public is not proper!"

The markets brimmed with rumor and distortion, panic spreading unchecked.

Late that night, Lin Shiya stood by her window gazing at the lantern-lit capital. "Wu the rich merchant..." she murmured, a trace of imperceptible chill threading her voice. She turned to her maid. "Prepare a sedan chair. We are going to Drunken Immortal Pavilion."

Drunken Immortal Pavilion, the capital's most glamorous restaurant, blazed with lanterns and echoed with clinking cups. Lin Shiya, disguised in men's attire, entered with measured steps. Her sharp gaze swept the crowd and settled on Wu the rich merchant at the second-floor private room, toasting with another man.

"Mr. Wu, business is thriving, I see," Lin Shiya's voice was soft yet carried clearly to the merchant's ears.

He looked up sharply and froze when he saw Lin Shiya at the door.

After three rounds of wine, Lin Shiya set her cup down and spoke calmly, "Mr. Wu, I have come today to discuss the women's rights reform with you."

Wu's expression shifted. He opened his mouth to protest, but Lin Shiya interrupted, "Mr. Wu, there is no need to rush to oppose. It is not too late to hear me out."

Lin Shiya continued unhurriedly, outlining the manifold benefits of women's participation in economic life. She explained that women were meticulous and excelled at management, that they understood women's needs and could develop products tailored to them, and that their involvement would increase household income and drive social prosperity. Every point was well-supported and logically airtight, leaving Wu stunned.

"Lord Lin's words do carry some truth..." Wu stroked his chin, lost in thought. He had opposed the reform only out of fear for his business, but Lin Shiya's analysis opened new vistas for him.

Nearby merchants eavesdropping began to whisper, convinced that Lord Lin spoke sense. A crack appeared in the opposition within commercial circles.

Yet in a dim study elsewhere, Zheng Xiucai wrote furiously, his face etched with fury and resolve. Around him clustered a group of equally indignant common intellectuals.

"Women's involvement in politics violates human ethics! We cannot remain silent!" Zheng Xiucai bit out, his pen slashing across the paper in forceful strokes.

"Zheng sir is right! We must halt this absurd reform!" Others echoed, eyes blazing with fanaticism.

An article took shape in the dim light, thick with opposition. Zheng Xiucai set the brush aside, regarded the paper covered in characters, and let a cold smile touch his lips.

"Tomorrow the entire capital will see how ridiculous this so-called reform truly is," he murmured, folding the article carefully and tucking it away, an inexplicable glint in his eyes.

Deeper into the night, the streets grew quiet. A night watchman struck his clappers with a dull rhythm. A black shadow slipped silently from Zheng Xiucai's study and vanished into the darkness.

"All preparations are ready..." the shadow murmured, her tone laced with sinister chill.