That night, Lin Zhao lay in bed, unable to sleep. The charcoal fire in the room burned warmly, but his heart felt a chill.
He thought of the prince's eyes—that light of a "winner" that made him uneasy. That wasn't the gaze of an enlightener, but rather the gaze of a predator.
"Did I make a mistake?" he asked himself. "Should I have chosen a different experimental subject?"
But he quickly dismissed this thought. No, Zhu Houcong was the perfect choice. He had the power, the ambition, and the need for legitimacy. As long as the system was properly designed, even a power-hungry monarch could be constrained.
"The key is the system," Lin Zhao told himself. "As long as the system is well-designed, it doesn't matter who the monarch is. The system will constrain him."
This was the core belief of institutionalism: institutions are more important than individuals. Good institutions can make bad people do good things; bad institutions can make good people do bad things.
Lin Zhao believed this. He had to believe it. Because if he didn't, his entire life's work would be meaningless.
"I am making history," he whispered to himself. "I am creating a new civilization."
Outside the window, the snow continued to fall, covering the entire Prince of Xing's residence in white.
Lin Zhao didn't know that in the prince's study, Zhu Houcong was also unable to sleep. He was reading the notes Lin Zhao had given him, his eyes shining with an unusual light.
"Separation of powers... check and balance... constitutionalism..." the prince murmured. "These are all good things. But the best thing is... I can use them to win."
"As long as I control the rules, I will always win."
"This Lin Zhao... he's useful. But he's also dangerous. He knows too much."
"After he finishes building the cage... I'll have to deal with him."
The prince smiled, a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Winning is everything."