In front of the Amur Governor-General's building.
"What is this?"
"Officer sir, this is the tax from our settlement's five hundred and thirty people. Should be over four seok of rice."
The content was a very far-fetched story about compensated distribution of the empire's empty land or compensated confiscation of well-cultivated existing land using tax funds.
'How could that ever work. People won't go even if paid to.'
"Even for a short writing by just a crown prince, not Tsar, the response was explosive. Even conscripted soldiers came to ask if it was really true."
"...The weight of your words is different now than then. Giving false hope to ignorant masses is very dangerous."
"Just keep listening first."
Actually, the core of that contributed article wasn't whether land reform was possible through that vast Siberian land or not.
Who would react, and how.
That's what I wanted to see.
This issue would have to be faced during my reign anyway.
Still has a long way to go on the path of learning.
As I stood beside Roman, watching the simple peasants deliver their rice tax with hopeful expressions, I felt the weight of my experiment settle heavily upon my shoulders. The article had been a test balloon - not to gauge the feasibility of land reform, but to measure the reaction of the populace.
And react they had. From the remotest settlements to military barracks, my words had traveled, kindling a dangerous spark of hope among people who had little reason to hope before.
"Your Highness," Roman continued in a low voice, "these people traveled for days just to pay taxes they could have delivered locally. They came because they heard rumors that the Crown Prince himself was here distributing land."
I nodded, keeping my expression neutral as another group approached with their meager offerings. Their faces bore the weathered look of those who had spent lifetimes toiling on soil they didn't own, yet their eyes held something I hadn't expected to see in such abundance - trust.
"Do you understand now?" I asked Roman, stepping slightly away from the gathering crowd. "This land question isn't merely political theory. It's the beating heart of Russia's future."
"I understand it's dangerous," Roman replied, his military pragmatism evident in his tone. "Words that might seem like academic discussion in St. Petersburg become revolutionary manifestos out here."
"Not revolutionary," I corrected. "Evolutionary. These people don't want to overthrow the Tsar - they want the Tsar to solve their most fundamental problem."
Roman glanced at the growing line of peasants, each clutching their tax payments like offerings. "And can you? Solve it, I mean?"
I considered the vastness of Siberia spread out before us, the untapped potential it represented. Then I thought of the entrenched nobility back west, their centuries-old grip on Russia's most fertile lands.
"That's what I'm here to discover," I replied honestly. "The empire cannot continue as it is - that much is clear. But the path forward... that requires more than theory. It requires understanding."
As we turned back toward the official building, I noticed a group of soldiers lingering at the edge of the square, watching the proceedings with intense interest. The military - always the wildcard in any political equation.
"Arrange a private meeting with those men," I instructed Roman quietly. "I want to hear directly what they think about this land question."
"That would be highly irregular, Your Highness."
"Precisely why it must be done." I paused at the entrance. "My father ruled through strength and tradition. I must find a different path - one that addresses what the people truly need before they decide to take it for themselves."
Roman nodded reluctantly, already calculating the security implications.
"This is just the beginning," I added, more to myself than to him. "The true test will come when words must be transformed into action."
The reactions here in the Far East were telling, but I knew they were merely a preview of the greater challenge awaiting me. The land question would define my reign, one way or another. Better to understand its contours now, while I still had room to maneuver.
The path of learning, indeed, stretched far ahead of me - and the stakes could not be higher.