Chapter 249: Looking Back, One Doubts the Heavenly Path Is Near

The "inspection" work carried out by the Inspection Institute under Zheng Shuqing's supervision could be said to have been remarkably effective.

If not exactly without a ripple, it could at least be said to have set off chaos everywhere.

With Brother Ji's tacit approval, the "inspectors" of the Inspection Institute sprang into action at the first whisper; whether it was the major government offices within Chang'an or the mansions of the nobility, these people were constantly going in and out, each one wearing a calm expression tinged with a sinister grin.

They punished those above and below alike—whether prime ministers, ministers of the Six Ministries, or titled scions of noble houses and sons of powerful families. As long as someone had violated the rules, there was no escaping a fine.

As for the reasons behind the fines, one could only say the variety was vast and impossible to generalize. In short, from typos in official documents to illegal extensions on residences that exceeded the regulations, anyone caught would be fined.

That was right—apart from fines, the Inspection Institute imposed no other punitive measures. After all, failure to pay meant dismissal from office and stripping of titles; one trick was all it took to conquer everywhere. This particular trick was feared by everyone in Chang'an's circles of power and nobility.

As for filing complaints against the Inspection Institute, no one bothered to handle them at all; every memorial of impeachment was suppressed by Brother Ji and left unprocessed. And say what one might, these minor infractions that "could or could not be pursued," once laid out in the open, left no room for sophistry whatsoever.

Wearing a "yellow riding jacket" underneath a brocade robe—and you still think you're in the right? That sort of thing was far too absurd to elaborate on.

Under the regime of heavy fines, bolts of silk destined for the Longyou frontier army filled the storehouses to overflowing, cart after cart transported to Lanzhou, then relayed from Lanzhou to Shanzhou, and finally distributed into the hands of the Longyou frontier soldiers.

Wang Zhongsi was fortunate; Fang Chongyong had already paved the way ahead, so he did not need to trouble himself with the matter of the frontier army's unpaid wages. Wang Zhongsi only needed to consider how to withstand the fierce Tibetan offensive come autumn.

Of course, that military pay was not lacking now did not mean it would not be lacking in the future. Future matters could only be addressed when the time came.

However, after this thorough "purge," officials at every level and nobles of every stripe in Chang'an had learned their lesson. They began to dress meticulously, in full compliance with the regulations, so that even if stripped bare they would not fear the Inspection Institute finding fault.

The nobles themselves dispatched people to dismantle the over-specified residences they had previously built, so that no matter how one investigated, everything was airtight. Some officials even transferred their own estates to relatives and went to "rent" dwellings elsewhere.

If I'm renting the house, then over-specification is none of my damn business, right?

As for the minor infractions of typos, the officials' countermeasure at every level was to avoid writing official documents whenever possible. As long as I don't write documents, you can never catch me making errors.

If writing was unavoidable, then they would check repeatedly, with colleagues reviewing one another's work. As for whether this would affect administrative efficiency, well, just handle fewer matters and get off work on time every day.

In short, there were policies from above and countermeasures from below; although "inspection" liked to take unconventional paths, the minor infractions it investigated could in fact be categorized and followed discernible patterns.

To put it plainly, there were only so many tricks that could be used. Over time, these tactics would lose their effectiveness. After all, everyone became officials only to seek wealth and prosperity, not to make trouble for themselves. When the rules multiplied, countermeasures naturally arose as well.

Yan Zhenqing had originally hoped to use the opportunity of raising military funds to cleanse the unhealthy practices in Chang'an's officialdom. Yet while the overt atmosphere had indeed been rectified to some degree, all manner of unspoken rules had begun to run rampant.

It was as though officials truly no longer dared to accept money openly—but they could enrich themselves by selling poems, calligraphy, and paintings! If one's calligraphy was superb and a wealthy person paid thousands of strings of cash for a piece of calligraphic treasure to enshrine and collect, what was wrong with that?

What genuine positive effect could the Inspection Institute's pursuit of trivial matters like catching typos in documents—apart from raising money—actually achieve?

Deeply troubled by this, Yan Zhenqing went to find Zheng Shuqing to discuss countermeasures.

However, Zheng Shuqing was unconcerned and replied directly: Since inspection isn't working anymore, why don't we suggest to the Sage that he sell offices and titles?

Yan Zhenqing was instantly speechless.

The two held different convictions and could not see eye to eye. Zheng Shuqing simply did whatever Brother Ji told him to do; since inspection was no longer effective, the next step could only be the time-honored tradition of successive dynasties: "selling offices and titles."

As for side tasks like rectifying officialdom, Zheng Shuqing had never given them a moment's thought.

If the Sage himself was not anxious about such matters, why should he, a mere subject, fret?

The two parted on bad terms, and Yan Zhenqing no longer wished to stir things up.

One day, Gao Lishi came to the Inspection Institute to notify Zheng Shuqing to proceed to Xingqing Palace for a discussion. When Zheng Shuqing arrived at the study of the Qinzhengwubenlou, he discovered that besides himself, there was also a young man he had met on a few occasions—apparently a central government official who worked in the Six Ministries.

"My beloved subject Zheng, how much in fines has the Inspection Institute collected this month?"

Brother Ji asked with a beaming smile, looking just like a kindly old man.

Zheng Shuqing dared not be negligent, clasped his hands in salute, and said: "To answer the Sage, it is not yet one hundred thousand strings of cash."

Upon hearing this, Brother Ji's face twitched a few times, then he sighed softly and gave a slight nod.

He looked at the young red-robed official before him and asked with a calm expression: "Liu Yan, when I appointed you Corrector to the Crown Prince back then, how many characters did you correct?"

"To answer the Sage, all characters have been corrected; only the character 'peng' remains uncorrected."

Liu Yan clasped his hands in salute and replied.

In Chinese characters, the strokes consist mainly of horizontal, vertical, left-falling, and right-falling lines; when there are both horizontal and vertical strokes, the character is "zheng" (upright), and only the character "peng" in "pengdang" (faction) consists entirely of slanted strokes. Liu Yan's answer demonstrated both his own wisdom and his political stance.

Those who form factions for private gain do nothing but sordid deeds—what is "upright" about that?

Brother Ji understood Liu Yan's answer, nodded with satisfaction, and continued:

"Very good. Three days from now, I shall bring out one hundred treasures and hold a treasure exhibition in the main hall of the Daming Palace.

All civil and military officials, nobles, and members of the imperial clan must attend. Bids will be placed for the treasures, and the highest bidder shall win.

The silk obtained from selling the treasures will serve as military funds. The starting prices of the treasures must be weighed and set with precision.

Liu Yan, I shall have you handle this matter. What say you?"

Brother Ji asked with a beaming smile.

Liu Yan hastily clasped his hands in salute and said: "Such a matter that benefits the state and the people, your humble servant will surely carry it out well and will not fail the Sage's expectations."

"Mm. You were raised to office by me since childhood, and now it is time for you to serve the nation. Go; Inner Attendant Gao will tell you how to proceed.

Once this matter is done well, I shall immediately have another very important task that requires you to handle it personally."

Brother Ji waved his hand gently, signaling the other to withdraw.

Liu Yan promptly accepted the order and departed. After he left, Brother Ji beckoned Zheng Shuqing over, signaling him to come to his side.

"Three days from now, you are to dispatch a few trusted inspectors to record those who place bids. Who bids generously, and who refuses to part with a single copper.

Those who bid generously, bid high, and those who refuse to part with a single copper—all of them are to be recorded for me. I have a great use for this."

Brother Ji said in a low voice.

Zheng Shuqing did not understand why and had no idea what Brother Ji was really after. But it did not matter; was it not simply recording who was lavish with their spending at the "treasure exhibition" and who refused to part with a single copper?

This sort of minor task of following a clear list was easy enough to accomplish.

He hastily clasped his hands in salute and said: "Sage, rest assured; your humble servant will surely carry it out well."

"Mm. Go and attend to it. I am very much looking forward to it."

Brother Ji nodded expressionlessly.

Zheng Shuqing was deeply curious: had the shortage of military funds now reached the point where the Sage had to sell palace treasures to raise money from the nobility?

But he dared not ask further, nor even dared to lift his head to look at Brother Ji's expression, and withdrew from the Qinzhengwubenlou with the utmost caution. Only after he had exited Xingqing Palace did Zheng Shuqing let out a breath of relief; he discovered that his back was covered in cold sweat that had already soaked through his garments, and the more he thought about it, the more frightened he became.

This Sage of the Great Tang truly had no intention of settling down and ceasing to stir things up just because he was growing older!

There's going to be another good show to watch soon.

……

The road leading directly from Jincheng in Lanzhou to Wuwei in Lianghou, though an official road, had rather harsh geographical conditions. Heading north along the Nishui River, both banks were flanked by mountains. The widest point was no more than two thousand meters, and the narrowest was less than three hundred meters. There were occasionally a few small paths leading from the mountains to the outside, but none of them were properly built.

During the Tang dynasty, this area fell under the jurisdiction of Lanzhou.

Guangwu County (Yongdeng County) to the south of this road and Changsong County (Gulang County) to the north both had their county seats built on the stretches of this road with relatively better geographical conditions, yet their populations and arable land were extremely barren.

Even by the Tianbao era, the combined population of the two counties was no more than two thousand-some households!

When Fang Chongyong passed through Guangwu County with over three hundred elite soldiers of the Yinqiang Xiaojie Army, he found neither a relay station nor any officials such as the county magistrate or sheriff coming out to greet him. After sending someone to inquire, he learned that the magistrate's post in Guangwu County had been vacant for years, and no court official was willing to come serve as a local official here.

Local administrative affairs were all handled on behalf of the prefectural government of Jincheng County in Lanzhou, and there were not many affairs to deal with either.

With a population of just over a thousand households, calculating six persons per household, the entire county's population would not exceed ten thousand — indeed not worth building a dedicated county yamen.

After all, keeping a yamen running also cost money. During the Tianbao era, the Great Tang had nearly one thousand six hundred counties, and not every one of them had a magistrate.

Fang Chongyong had never encountered this kind of situation where "a county existed but no official was appointed" before; this time he could consider it a broadening of his horizons.

After traveling several dozen li and passing Changsong County to the north, the terrain ahead suddenly rose sharply, and the mountain path became abruptly narrow and rugged! Heavy snow suddenly swirled from the sky, and everyone in the column felt their bodies soaked in the bitter wind, unable to stop themselves from shivering.

The road underfoot also began to grow steep and uneven, with rocky outcrops standing thick all around. Those mounted on horses had no choice but to dismount and lead their horses on foot up the mountain.

An Chongzhang, who was familiar with the terrain and serving as guide, stepped forward and said to Fang Chongyong:

"Wei Qing and Huo Qubing in those days crossed the Hongchi Ridge pass, struck the Xiongnu to the west, and built the Great Wall west of Lingju City (northwest of present-day Yongdeng County), passing through the valley of the Nishui River (Zhuanglang River) and crossing the Hongchi Ridge (Wushao Ridge) mountain range.

"The Great Wall built by the Han dynasty — its ruins lie just ahead."

An Chongzhang pointed at the crumbling walls and ruined remnants faintly visible among the mountain ridges not far away, and continued:

"In this place, snow flies even in the sixth month, and it is exceptionally cold. Every year there are reports of mountain folk who accidentally freeze to death here. I beg the Jiedushi not to order camp set up here, but to pass through this place swiftly.

"Once over the mountain range, there is the garrison post of the Wucheng Shouzhuo. The army can rest there."

Indeed, as An Chongzhang said, the Ming dynasty 'Xingdusi Zhi' records: "The ridge connects to the Gulang border to the north, twenty li long. In midsummer when the wind rises, flying snow fills the air. On the mountain today there are several earthen rooms. Gazing at the myriad mountains stretching endlessly onward, they lead straight toward the passes beyond. The snow piled on the ridge's crest dazzles the eye. Far to the west a great mountain rises abruptly, towering to the sky's edge — likely the Snow Mountain. Five li down the ridge, fifteen li to Anyuan, there is a fort, situated amid ten thousand mountains, with but a single thread of road passing through."

"So be it, then."

Fang Chongyong nodded slightly and said.

The Longyou region's terrain was strategically critical; only by knowing the geography well could one fight major battles and hard-fought campaigns. Once the Longyou barrier was lost, the Tibetans could bypass the Hexi Corridor's obstruction and invade Guanzhong from Lanzhou.

Fang Chongyong had originally thought that the Tibetans historically seized the opportunity of the An-Shi Rebellion to pull chestnuts from the fire, swallowing up both Hexi and Longyou and pushing the front line to the Fengxiang line.

But since he had become Military Commissioner in Longyou, he found this view somewhat one-sided and taken for granted.

The Tibetans were not pulling chestnuts from the fire; they had a long-term and meticulous plan. Every subsequent step of their conquest of cities and territories was calculated. They were simply waiting patiently for the opportunity. Their campaign to take Longyou could be called bold yet careful, fully planned, neither rushed nor sluggish.

Even without the An-Shi Rebellion, the Great Tang's military deployments, which exceeded what the nation's strength could support and had extended as far as west of Kashmir in his previous life, would ultimately become unsustainable. Strategic contraction was inevitable.

The Tibetans of course were unlikely to have predicted the An-Shi Rebellion, but they surely understood that the Great Tang's military contraction was only a matter of time — and when that time came, it would be the moment for a massive counteroffensive.

In other words, the Tibetans had been planning all along, waiting for the Great Tang's strategic contraction, rather than choosing to act only after seeing an opportunity like the An-Shi Rebellion.

Moreover, the Great Tang's border garrisons in Hexi, Longyou, and elsewhere were not all lost at once. The Western Army that chose to remain in place rather than return to Guanzhong and Shuofang was actually quite substantial. Those documented in historical records included the Doulu Army in Shazhou of Hexi and the Jiankang Army in Guazhou — not a single man returned to defend Guanzhong.

They chose to remain in Shazhou as a whole, using it as their base to continue resisting the Tibetans.

Liangzhou also had several thousand elite soldiers who did not follow the Chishui Army east.

If these forces had unified command and could join together, they would have been more than capable of standing toe-to-toe with the Tibetans.

The Tibetans spent a good ten to twenty years altogether before swallowing up these territories in Hexi and Longyou.

So rather than saying that after the An-Shi Rebellion, the Great Tang's Longyou forces were depleted and the Tibetans took advantage, it would be more accurate to say that the route from Guanzhong to Longyou was cut off by the Tibetans at the first opportunity, and the various Tang army units left in the west, lacking supplies, could only act on their own and were picked off one by one by the Tibetans who held the advantage in numbers.

Fang Chongyong felt that the very route he was traveling today looked like an excellent place for fighting an encirclement battle. With just tens of thousands of strong troops in hand, it would be enough to grind down the Tibetans slowly.

Of course, the Great Tang's foundation was already rotten. No matter how desperately the border garrisons struggled, it would all be in vain.

Brother Ji may have been reckless, but the three who took over after him — Suzong, Daizong, and Dezong — were equally unimpressive. Even without the An-Shi Rebellion, Ji's successors on the throne would not have been able to hold things together either.

If the emperor himself made an effort, it seemed he might be able to change something — but this was not something to think about too deeply. Once you thought it through, you would find that the Great Tang was already beyond remedy. Only by breaking the old could the new be established; only through destruction could there be rebirth — that was the Great Dao.

Members of the Li-Tang imperial clan, even princes, even Brother Ji himself.

They surely couldn't smash up their own establishment, could they? If the Li clan wouldn't do the smashing, then who would?

At this thought, a shadow fell over Fang Chongyong's heart. He frowned deeply, spoke to no one, and in silence led his column through Hongchi Ridge (i. e., Wushao Ridge).

The Qing dynasty poet Yang Weichang's poem "Wuling Cantian" seemed to recite itself by his ear:

Ten thousand mountains ring it, yet it stands alone and lofty; gazing down at craggy peaks, one fancies Mount Dai and Mount Song.

The road to Shu, though reaching to heaven, should yield in peril; Mount Kuanglu piercing the constellations cannot be called supreme.

Thunder slumbers beneath the earth, sounding in hidden depths; stars dangle from the cliffs, riding the great void.

Turning back, one suspects the heavenly road is near — as though standing amid white clouds.

Jishi County, which had just experienced an earthquake, was the location of the Jishi Army garrison under the Longyou Military Commissioner. What the economic conditions there were like during the Tang dynasty, one could guess from the news photos.

(End of this chapter)