Chapter 111: Ushering in the Era of Great Civilization

“I want to open a hospital.” Su Jingluo felt that simply having money wouldn’t fulfill what she truly desired. Money was static, but what she wanted was a dynamic enterprise. Wealth could buy a clinic, but not protection. Even the name ‘Royal Hospital’ sounded grand and imposing.

“A hospital? You want to open a clinic?” The Emperor, still lingering in his gloom, was nonetheless drawn by the unfamiliar term from Su Jingluo’s lips.

“Not a clinic, a hospital—more standardized, easier to manage and better for treatment.” Su Jingluo realized that in this era, hospitals did not yet exist. Clinics were run only by noble families skilled in medicine; others wandered from place to place treating patients.

“I do not understand,” the Emperor said, puzzled by her mention of greater standardization and convenience in management.

“Oh, Your Majesty, you need not understand. Just grant me a shop, something spacious, with a pharmacy and consultation rooms. I’ll handle the rest myself,” Su Jingluo said, unsure how to explain what a hospital truly was and decided not to elaborate further.

“No, you must make it clear to me,” the Emperor insisted, frustrated. Su Jingluo’s tone implied he wouldn’t understand even if she explained, an attitude he was unaccustomed to.

With no other choice, Su Jingluo earnestly described the hospital’s operational model and business philosophy—how patients would be diagnosed and treated. At first, the Emperor was confused, frequently raising questions, but as he grasped the basic principles, his eyes brightened until he clapped his thigh and laughed, his gaze narrowing with delight.

“Su Jingluo, you are a remarkable woman!” The Emperor no longer called her “junior sister,” for her insight, talent, and vision surpassed that of his cousin. From that moment, he freed himself from old memories and saw Su Jingluo anew.

“Oh, Your Majesty, you flatter me. Such matters must remain discreet. Just help me secure the premises and quietly grant me some conveniences,” Su Jingluo said, excitement rising within her as a bright future beckoned.

“Do you have any other ideas?” The Emperor’s curiosity about Su Jingluo grew, but she remained tight-lipped. Unable to draw more from her directly, he probed indirectly.

“Your Majesty, would you like to establish a school?” Su Jingluo’s enthusiasm bubbled forth. She recalled the scene a few days prior when Song Yunmo had visited their home. If there were schools where unruly teachers could be assigned to manage troublesome children, parents like her would have less to worry about.

“A school? A private academy?” The Emperor’s interest piqued at this new term, and he listened intently.

“A school is a place where all children can learn to read, study etiquette, and even acquire survival skills.” Private academies were only affordable to wealthy and noble families.

“All children?” The Emperor was baffled by the idea of universal education. How many children were there in the entire country? How many teachers and facilities would that require? And why should everyone be educated?

“Yes, all. It is said that noble talents rarely arise from humble origins because of unequal access to education. If this continues, countless gifted children will be wasted within their original families. Even if ordinary children do not become pillars of the nation, at least they can read, master basic skills, engage in commerce, teach, enter various trades, or even join the military with knowledge of strategy. This raises the overall income and economic level of the populace, indirectly reducing the state’s burden. Although the initial investment in education is arduous, its benefits to the entire country are inexhaustible.” Su Jingluo explained the advantages of establishing schools one by one, and the Emperor’s expression mirrored his earlier reaction to the hospital concept—enlightened and thoughtful.