Chapter 111: Self‑Portrait of the Clerk Fang

Outside the courtyard gate of Western Arrival Temple, a great number of rag‑clad believers had gathered, all prostrating on the ground; the scene looked spectacular, yet there was no sign of the so‑called "conflict" that Yan Zhuang mentioned.

"It was chaotic a moment ago, but after the Holy Son appeared and said, 'The Buddha says it cannot be spoken,' these people began to prostrate and kowtow on the ground.

They are pleading for the Holy Son to display the Buddha's grace."

Yan Zhuang, a clerk stationed outside Western Journey Temple, leaned in and whispered, his tone highly contemptuous.

"After the crowd disperses, find someone to ask. Come to my office in the magistrate's residence this evening."

Fang Chongyong dropped a remark and walked off toward the magistrate's office, feeling increasingly that the situation was slipping beyond his control!

He had a sense that something big was going wrong.

Sure enough, that night Yan Zhuang ordered two ragged, skin‑scarred paupers to be brought in; their attire was a hodgepodge of Hu and Han clothing, as if they wore whatever was at hand.

At a glance they were the typical bankrupt peddlers of the Hexi Corridor, their sly eyes radiating smoothness and mercantile cunning.

Such people usually have tangled backgrounds: they might be deserters from a recent battle, or respectable youths from Chang'an seeking a livelihood, or even spies of the Tubo.

People like them typically borrow capital from the authorities to run small trades, or shuttle between the Western Regions and Chang'an as merchants' guards, while flipping goods for a bit of cash.

A single sandstorm on the post road from the Western Regions to Chang'an can bury ten people, and at least four or five of those are unlucky souls who lost their land and came to Hexi to pan for gold.

"What's happening?"

Fang Chongyong asked Yan Zhuang in a low voice.

"These two keep telling everyone they found golden beans near Dragon Head Mountain, so there must be a gold vein nearby.

The people prostrating outside Western Journey Temple today all hope the Holy Son will tell them the exact location of the gold mine!"

What a bunch of money‑greedy deadbeats!"

Yan Zhuang couldn't help but curse.

What they're scheming is obvious even to a toe‑tapper; in plain terms, they're just throwing a stone to test the road.

Gold mine?

Fang Chongyong was startled, never having expected this turn. There's roughly iron ore around Dragon Head Mountain, so how could a gold vein appear there?

"Sir, sir, we truly found these golden beans by the mountain spring at the foot of Dragon Head Mountain."

One of them slipped a golden bean from his cuff and handed it to Fang Chongyong for inspection.

The latter took the bean, held it in his hand, and examined it closely.

The bean had been smoothed by water flow, looking far less like a roadside find and more like something that had tumbled down from the spring's upstream.

Similar gold deposits, Fang Chongyong recalled hearing about occasional finds in the Yunnan‑Guizhou area. Though the reserves are modest, many lie exposed in fissures near small streams, carried downstream by long‑term water erosion.

Thus, unless someone climbed Dragon Head Mountain and dropped these beans into the spring, they would have lingered long enough for the water to smooth them, leaving the pebble‑like wash marks.

That means there must be a gold mining site upstream of the spring, and the mining conditions are extremely favorable!

Those two are extremely greedy!

Fang Chongyong couldn't help but reflect: the Hexi Corridor is a playground for adventurers, a melting pot where every sort of person gathers!

"So you spread the rumor hoping someone will locate the gold, then you swoop in like a yellow bird to kill and seize the treasure?"

Fang Chongyong asked with a speechless expression; the two didn't look impressive, but their scheme was rather grand.

If they want to be the yellow bird, how can they be sure others won't treat them as mantises?

There are always hunters behind the yellow bird!

"Sir, we're just poor, so we only hope to net a little… As for killing and looting, we wouldn't dare."

The other man defended himself with a hurt expression, and only they know whether it was a heartfelt confession.

"And you didn't expect that people would band together and kneel outside Western Journey Temple, begging the Holy Son, right?"

Fang Chongyong thought the whole thing had become an export turned into domestic sales—a classic case of "lifting a stone only to smash one's own foot."

It was he who instructed Fang Laique, saying there was gold to be found near Dragon Head Mountain north of Shandan County, intending to lure certain idle Hexi Corridor folk to tinker and see what they might discover.

Perhaps they'd even uncover iron ore; after all, many hands make strong work!

Unexpectedly, the loophole was exploited, and those people now kneel to Fang Laique, the "source," demanding a more precise location.

If Fang Chongyong knows the spot, why bother telling that bunch of Lusers? He could just go find it himself.

Besides, what Fang Chongyong is after is iron ore! Iron ore!

Gold mines are fine too, but left in Hexi they're far less useful than iron ore.

Gold only brings fleeting wealth, whereas iron can sustain armaments; the two mean completely different things for Hexi!

"Ask Xin Shouzhuo (Xin Yunqing) for a squad, let these two lead the way upstream along the spring, and see if any clues to gold can be found."

Fang Chongyong, weary, waved his hand, signaling Yan Zhuang to keep an eye on the matter.

After Yan Zhuang left with his men, Fang Chongyong collapsed onto the Grand Master's Chair, feeling completely spent.

Often, what he feared most were complications sprouting from unrelated matters.

Generally, striking gold is a great thing, but in Ganzhou, in this era and at this critical juncture, finding gold may not be a blessing at all.

First, it would divert forces searching for iron ore.

Second, it would give opportunists a chance to meddle.

For example Li Linfu, for example Ji Ge, for example the Hexi Military Governor… and also the Tubo.

After all, for many, the ability to smelt iron matters little; they don't live in Ganzhou. As long as they can scoop gold into their own hands, they'll be thrilled enough to sing loudly, and the fate of Ganzhou holds little significance for them.

A gold mine that can be endlessly mined carries a maddening allure.

Fang Chongyong didn't think Ji Ge could stay calm after learning this.

At that moment, Anaye slipped behind him, her hands deftly kneading his temples.

It made Fang the Clerk feel extremely relaxed.

"The Imperial Medical Office's specialties include pharmacology, massage, acupuncture and the like; your father must have specialized in massage."

Fang Chongyong closed his eyes and sighed. With just this one skill, he couldn't let Anaye run away anymore.

"Since you already know all this, why would you use the silk transported from Chang'an to the prefectural yamen to buy me medical books and clothes?

How about I just don't want any of those anymore, and you make up the shortfall first."

Anaye said, her heart aching at the loss.

Not to mention the medical books — her father had wanted to assemble a complete set for a long time but never could. As for those fine clothes, Anaye had never even touched them, let alone worn them.

These things had already become hers, and now she had to give them back. That feeling of gaining something only to lose it again could only be described as utterly miserable.

Anaye had hesitated all day today, locked in a fierce internal struggle over whether to "return the gifts."

She was in a state of extreme anxiety over gains and losses.

She was afraid that Fang Chongyong would be angry, and also worried that something might happen to him.

In the end, she finally mustered the courage to speak plainly.

"It is not the Prime Minister who is dreaming, but you who are dreaming."

Fang Chongyong reached out to stroke Anaye's pretty face and uttered a famous line from Romance of the Three Kingdoms, leaving this country girl from Liangzhou utterly bewildered, suddenly aware that her learning was being completely crushed.

So she asked impatiently, "Just say whatever you have to say directly. All this beating around the bush is making me dizzy!"

"Actually, apart from you — the one person who received the benefits and doesn't understand — whether it's me, the Prime Minister, Brother Ji, or even the investigating censor who might report me, everyone understands perfectly well in their hearts."

Fang Chongyong said something laden with meaning.

Considering that Anaye knew nothing at all about politics, Fang Chongyong patiently explained:

"The Tang Code is extremely strict in investigating corruption and dereliction of duty.

Those who accept goods are sentenced to sixty strokes of the cane; those who accept money receive a penalty one degree heavier; those who accept objects, two degrees heavier.

The books and brocade robes I bought for you might fall a bit short of a beheading under the penal code, but exile for three thousand li is more than enough.

So why do you think I would do such pointless things?"

Fang Chongyong posed a question that Anaye could not answer.

In fact, Anaye knew Fang Chongyong's capabilities. If he wanted to make money, he had plenty of methods to circumvent the court's laws.

For instance, the matter of opening a "wild market" outside Zhangye City — with just a little maneuvering, plenty of Western Region Hu merchants would be willing to offer Fang Chongyong substantial "tribute." Books worth several dozen strings of cash, women's brocade robes worth over a hundred strings — those were small-scale affairs.

Back when Anaye followed Fang Chongyong to serve as a "translator" by the Sogdian settlement (though her services were never actually needed — the Sogdian leader Kang Juren spoke Chang'an dialect more standardly than Anaye did), the people there let her pick out Sogdian-style women's clothing at will, taking as much as she wanted!

Even a girl like Anaye knew that if officials at every level of the Great Tang relied solely on their salaries to live, every last one of them would probably starve their entire family to death.

Take a "clean official" like Yan Zhenqing — he indeed committed no corruption and no dereliction of duty. But it was said that Yan Zhenqing particularly loved writing epitaphs and eulogies for people in his circle.

Never mind whether doing these things brought direct financial income.

Even if the other party didn't pay money, was there no transfer of benefits?

Was there no exchange of favors?

Was there no enormous political advantage?

As long as one's political status was high enough, there would naturally be no shortage of sycophants offering money, so why stoop to ugly-looking corruption?

These were all unspoken rules of officialdom — seen through but never spoken of.

Anaye knew that her father, by treating the Inspector and the Military Commissioner, could have his household exempted from the regular tax and corvée as well as sundry levies — let alone others!

"Then why did you go to all this unnecessary trouble?"

Anaye asked in confusion.

"When you are useful, the Sage will put you to good use.

It's just that when the Sage employs people, he doesn't like those who are too flighty, those who slip out of his control.

He likes to put on a dog leash. A dog without a leash is prone to biting its owner and being unruly.

Rather than letting the Sage put an unjustified dog leash around my neck, I might as well make a harmless one myself and hand it to the Sage.

This reasoning isn't that hard to understand, is it?"

Fang Chongyong sighed and explained it all to Anaye. Anaye might not truly understand this reasoning — Fang Chongyong was simply walking in brocade by night, looking for an audience.

Zheng Shuqing was right: being an official means being a dog. The Sage has no need for "people" — having him as the one master is enough.

Fang Chongyong knew that coming to Ganzhou to serve as Inspector was itself something Brother Ji had tossed over to keep his scoundrel father Fang Youde in check.

Now Fang Chongyong had not only made no mistakes in Ganzhou, but was in fact thriving.

After Brother Ji heard about it, what would he think?

Not only did he fail to kill me with one blow, but I'm living quite comfortably, flashing a mocking smile at me?

Then let's land a few more blows and break my spine first, and see if I can still laugh!

Fang Chongyong could fully imagine how furious and unwilling Brother Ji would be upon seeing his "political achievements" in Ganzhou.

So it was necessary to deliberately tarnish his own reputation.

Doting on a ten-year-old Western Region Hu girl showed poor judgment, lustfulness, and an inability to grasp the gravity of one's actions.

Repaying the yamen's debts showed a lack of political experience, still needing to be honed.

Opening a wild market and erecting a stele inscription for medical books showed an ambition to achieve political results locally.

Embezzling the silk sent from the central authorities showed poor judgment, sticky fingers, and clumsy methods for gray income.

But local affairs in Ganzhou were still handled beautifully, with no signs of colluding with local forces or recruiting personnel within the border army. This showed some ability and indicated a person worth cultivating.

The key was youth — he could be developed over the long term.

Young and lustful, unstable in temperament, greedy for petty gains, somewhat capable, highly malleable, and easy to control.

This persona was a self-portrait that Fang Chongyong actively presented to Brother Ji.

He could swear that even if an investigating censor wrote up his "corruption crimes" in detail as a memorial and delivered it to Brother Ji's desk, the Tang Emperor would probably just glance at it casually and toss it aside.

Because there were simply too many similar cases — Brother Ji couldn't even keep up with them all, and Fang Chongyong's manner of eating was among the most refined.

If every Tang bureaucrat were diligent and conscientious, then let alone one An Lushan — even a whole group of An Lushans gathered together could not shake the Great Tang's foundations one bit!

If Fang Chongyong truly used various methods to reroute wealth paths and embezzle public funds to scrape money, that would instead provoke Brother Ji's fury and vigilance.

Fang Chongyong told Anaye all about these convoluted machinations, and the young girl from the Western Regions was so frightened she could not speak a word for a long time. Her already fair complexion turned deathly pale, and her rough little hands, held in Fang Chongyong's grip, trembled.

"Hearing you say this, milord, Chang'an truly is a dragon's pond and a tiger's den."

After a long while, Anaye spoke with lingering fear, forcing a smile that was utterly devoid of spirit.

"Who could say otherwise."

Fang Chongyong replied casually, and as if that was not satisfying enough, added another line:

"No person stays fortunate for a hundred days, no flower stays red for a hundred days. Watch him build the tall tower, watch him host the guests, watch him..."

"Watch him what?"

"Watch his tower collapse."

When Fang Chongyong finished that last line, Anaye felt an inexplicable sense of the vicissitudes of time, though she herself could not say why.

At this moment, the person holding her hands—the very child she had just been diligently massuing—was not an ignorant peer of the same age, but rather like an old man who had weathered the full passage of years.

One who had seen through the ways of the world!

……

News that there might be a gold mine in Ganzhou spread as though it had grown wings, spreading throughout the five prefectures of the Hexi Corridor, even reaching farther east to Lanzhou and Guozhou, and farther west to the various cities of the Western Regions.

For a time, the normally quiet and peaceful county seat of Shandan began to bustle. All manner of people searched around Dragon Head Mountain north of Shandan county seat, seemingly all drawn by the gold mine.

Given the sheer number of people searching for the gold mine, Fang Chongyong had no choice but to request that Guo Ziyi dispatch a thousand-man militia unit to station in Shandan County, screening the miscellaneous loiterers at the foot of Dragon Head Mountain to maintain local order.

Effort does not betray the diligent. With so many people wandering around Dragon Head Mountain panning for gold, they finally... found the so-called "heavy stones"!

The ones who achieved this were none other than the "prospecting team" dispatched by the imperial court!

When Zhang Yunyang, a Director of the Ministry of Works, led his men into the mountains to search for the gold mine (under orders issued directly by the court, bypassing the Ganzhou prefectural office), he discovered that the "compass" he carried on his person was spinning wildly in all directions, having lost its ability to point.

This "compass" was designed by Ma Daifeng, the master craftsman in the personal service of the Tang Emperor Li Longji. The "compass" was only the size of a palm, yet it was exquisitely crafted and practical, easy to carry.

Only then did Zhang Yunyang realize that when they had previously prospected for the iron mine, they had not found the right location at all. They had always assumed the ore vein lay between Shandan and Zhangye, never expecting that this iron mine was actually to the northeast of Shandan County.

After a careful search, they discovered that in a certain fractured mountain range here, the interlayer at the base was entirely composed of clearly distinguishable hematite, red in color, which could be ground down and used as cinnabar.

A large portion of this iron deposit was exposed on the surface, and with minimal preparation it could be mined!

Zhang Yunyang hastily relayed this astonishing news to Fang Chongyong! He asked him to send men to isolate and protect the area, to keep miscellaneous loiterers from causing damage.

Plant flowers with care and they do not bloom; willow branches stuck in the ground by chance grow into shade. After all the commotion of the "gold rush," the gold mine remained a complete phantom, yet the "professionals" dispatched by the Chang'an central authorities ended up finding the iron mine instead!

The location and extraction method for gathering coal had long since been confirmed by Zhang Yunyang without error.

Now they had also found hematite that was convenient to mine.

Zhang Yunyang, Director of the Ministry of Works, hastily gathered samples of coal and hematite collected in Ganzhou, boarded a postal relay carriage, and rode without stopping back to Chang'an to present himself before the emperor.

The strategic significance of an iron mine being discovered in Hexi was something a gold mine could not remotely compare to. Zhang Yunyang knew his status was too lowly for him to make the decision, and he needed to report it to the central court ministers at the earliest possible moment.

As for Niu Xianke, the Minister of Works currently carrying out official duties in Liangzhou, all he could say was sorry.

Zhang Yunyang wrote a letter to Niu Xianke reporting his itinerary, which was already quite considerate of him.

With different commissions, even a superior in the same office need not be informed of what one was doing. This was the subtlety of "commissions" in the Tang's exercise of power, and also one of the means by which imperial authority checked and balanced the civil officialdom.

When it came to reporting whether Hexi had an iron mine, Zhang Yunyang was perfectly entitled to ignore Niu Xianke entirely.

As Zhang Yunyang arrived in Chang'an without pause, a new round of maneuvering by the Chang'an central authorities slowly raised its curtain.

(End of this chapter)