Chapter 69: Looking Back at Chang'an, Stacks of Success (End of Volume)

In the courtyard of Li Linfu's residence on Pingkang Lane, a few osmanthus trees were planted. In autumn the garden would be full of osmanthus scent. Now, early spring, the branches are budding, a wash of green.

That noon, during his leisure, Li Linfu, having nothing to do, was strolling in the yard, savoring the breath of spring.

"Right Prime Minister, a letter from the Luoyang side."

The servant handed the freshly received letter to Li Linfu.

He waved his hand lightly, and the servant slipped away. Li Linfu, smiling, opened the letter; he had already guessed what Zheng Shuqing would say.

In general, it was nothing but the two characters "save me".

Even if they are his own people, he cannot fail to suppress them; Li Linfu is a man who values tactics and means, and he also keeps safeguards and pressure on Zheng Shuqing.

The matter of Han Jia Cang is unsolvable. Yet the state's strategic grain reserve cannot be left idle. The only remedy, both short and long term, is to build a canal linking Chang'an and Luoyang.

In that case, water transport all the way, grain barges could continuously flow from the Bian River waterway to Chang'an, and the Han Jia Cang issue would, like a heat rash after autumn, heal without treatment.

Beyond that, there is no solution. Precisely because he knows there is none, Li Linfu assigned Zheng Shuqing to take on this task. He waited for the other to cry "save me", then to pull them out, and finally to push each political rival into the post that manages Han Jia Cang.

It would take a few months to eliminate one person, while building that canal would need at least three years; conservatively, that could eliminate a dozen court adversaries!

While pondering, he opened the letter and only read the first few lines; Li Linfu's hand trembled as he held the paper, nearly dropping it to the ground.

"The 'Seeing Money' method? Interesting."

Li Linfu lingered a moment, then continued reading.

Zheng Shuqing's proposal was complex, requiring the Central Administration of the Great Tang to amend statutes. Yet it was also unusually simple: in plain terms, replace money with credit for payment transfers.

The concept is no longer new, but its widespread adoption only came in the mid‑to‑late Tang after the An Shi Rebellion. Because military governors would pluck feathers from passing geese, merchants carrying wealth across borders were like defenseless infants clutching golden rice bowls while being waved before bandits.

Thus, long‑distance bulk trades often employed the "credit currency" method: issue a note at point A, collect cash at point B, bypassing the intermediate circulation; such cases were commonplace.

In the letter, Zheng Shuqing demanded that the Si Nong Temple create a dedicated department to handle account verification. Once a transaction is completed, a payment is made, thereby eliminating the need to request funds from the court.

Li Linfu mulled it over; the plan was so good that he could not even think of any flaw!

This is undoubtedly a brilliant idea that only someone familiar with commercial operations could devise, but clearly Zheng Shuqing is not that sort of person.

"Never mind."

Li Linfu sighed; what a fine trap for deceiving others, yet Zheng Shuqing had already filled it. It was now too late to replace him, so he could only test Zheng's method first, then decide the next move.

After a brief despondence, he rallied himself. Besides the Han Jia Cang affairs that could be used to trap people, the Central Administration of the Great Tang had many other exploitable issues.

For example, the militia units are now a sham; last year in Longyou, a militia unit that should have fielded 35 men only turned up with six, the rest shirking with various excuses.

The Southern Yamen Guard, formed from militia units, has been dwindling due to the collapse of the militia system; as troop numbers shrink repeatedly, the Guard has become essentially a reserve for the Northern Yamen Guard, which relies on conscripts.

To keep border towns functioning, converting militia to conscription is the inevitable trend. Yet the stakes are so huge that no one can control the situation.

Li Linfu thought that using the militia‑to‑conscription policy to trap and ruin political opponents might also work.

"Someone, prepare the carriage; I, the Right Prime Minister, am to enter the palace."

Li Linfu instructed the servant.

……

Fang Chongyong and his party first went to Guanglu Lane on the west side of Zhuque Avenue, the gathering point for Chang'an officials heading west, where they handle travel clearance paperwork.

Then the carriage exited through Kaiyuan Gate to the west, traveled westward, passed Linfu Post, where they changed horses but not the carriage, and continued west.

"White Dragon Horse, hooves westward, bearing Tang Sanzang and his three disciples. The great road to the Western Heaven is a journey of tens of thousands of miles."

In the smooth carriage, Fang Chongyong hummed a children's song, feeling extremely delighted.

At last he left Chang'an; there he could never be comfortable, feeling constantly assimilated by the city into those "refined" and "trendy" young men of Wuling.

Travel is different then.

One must admit, in the Great Tang, if you are an official—especially one with power or backing—travel is not unpleasant; the post stations along the main roads take good care of you, allowing you the mood and energy to enjoy the scenery.

And it's all free! There are attendants everywhere! Service is thorough!

"Sir, isn't Chang'an quite good? Why should we leave?"

Fang Laique, sitting beside him, asked.

"Chang'an's world is too narrow."

Fang Chongyong sighed, continuing: "Moreover, there's a kind of false splendor I don't like."

Fang Laique nodded as if half‑understood.

"But going elsewhere is fine; as long as we invoke the name of Lord A'lang, Military Governor of Youzhou, we can take things without paying."

Fang Laique added another sentence.

Fang Chongyong's forehead flashed with a blue vein; he tapped Fang Laique's head and said: "The people of Hexi are fierce; if you get your leg broken by someone, don't come crying 'save me' in front of me!"

"Oh."

Fang Laique responded with a sound, his thoughts unknown.

At that moment, Fang Dafu, who was hurrying the carriage, shouted to Fang Chongyong: "The Mawei Post is just ahead; shall we spend the night here tonight?"

Mawei Post!

"Tonight we'll stay here."

Fang Chongyong was startled, then shouted to Fang Dafu:

The carriage stopped; Fang Chongyong got off to inspect Mawei Post, which was just an ordinary station, far inferior to the Hanyin Post in Xiangyang.

"Rainbow‑clad garments startled the great granary, covering the king's face as he lost his composure. The Qixi oath cannot be forgotten; the Cowherd must scold Li Sanlang."

Fang Chongyong, looking at the unremarkable Mawei Post, sighed with emotion.

"Sir, the Li Sanlang you just mentioned, are you referring to the present saint?"

Fang Laique asked curiously.

"Shut up, and get out of the way!"

Fang Dafu gave Fang Laique a tug, pulling him aside.

"Sir, the journey is long; shall we hire guards?"

Fang Dafu lowered his head and leaned close to Fang Chongyong's ear to ask.

"No need. Not bringing guards means there's no fat to skim, and their status isn't high either. It's actually safer."

Fang Chongyong said in a low voice.

The road from Liangzhou to Chang'an was one thousand six hundred li, and they had only just begun.

According to the records in the Comprehensive Statutes, Volume Seven, during the Kaiyuan era the Tang Dynasty's transportation routes were: "East to Song and Bian, west to Qizhou… south to… north to… west to Shuchuan (Sichuan) and Liangfu (Wuwei, Gansu), in all places there were inns and shops to serve merchants and travelers, allowing journeys of several thousand li without carrying a single blade."

The main road heading northwest from Chang'an through Yuanzhou to Liangzhou was the most important post road of the Tang Dynasty. This route went from Chang'an to Jingzhou, then from Jingzhou to Pingliang, crossed Longshan Pass to reach Yuanzhou, passed through Muxia Pass to Huizhou, turned northwest to Huining Pass, crossed the Yellow River at Huining Ferry, and then went through Wulan Pass to Liangzhou.

The route was highly developed, having been opened up since the Han Dynasty. It underwent occasional changes over the centuries before finally being fixed in the Tang Dynasty. The journey was largely safe, with government-run relay stations and privately-run "shops" along the way for travelers to resupply.

Their party had only Duan as a single guard, which did look rather shabby. Cui Qianyou had already gone with Wang Zhongsi to the Chishui Army in Hexi, so he was not traveling with Fang Chongyong and the others.

The party entered Mawei Relay Station, and when the station attendant heard Fang Chongyong's official title, he promptly received them with great enthusiasm. These attendants were all used to seeing important personages.

If a person held a powerful substantive office and also carried high honorary titles, then there was no doubt—such a person was a high-ranking court official, and their entourage often numbered several dozen or even over a hundred. Faced with such an eminent personage, the attendant would of course grovel!

But when a person only had high honorary titles and no actual official duties, one had to be careful—it was easy to be fooled.

Generally speaking, such people were of noble status. They had no actual duties simply because the court had no suitable assignments for them, and their entourages were often quite small.

After the mid-Tang period, when the Tang court dispatched local officials, the situation of "not enough substantive posts, so honorary titles make up the difference" arose more than once, showing that honorary titles were not entirely "empty."

To slight someone with such "high honorary titles"—if that person sought revenge later, ruining one relay station attendant would be a matter of a single word.

"Can one inscribe a poem at this Mawei Relay Station?"

Fang Chongyong asked curiously.

"What a thing to say, sir! Back when Princess Jincheng was married off to Tubo, Chancellor Zhang Yue left a poem here at Mawei Relay Station. There, the one hanging on the wall is it."

The attendant pointed to a large pile of wooden boards hanging on the wooden wall of the station's main hall. The one placed in the most prominent position was the poem by former Chancellor Zhang Yue.

Poetry was a cultural product of the Great Tang. Anywhere with any reputation took pride in keeping a wall for hanging poems. Tang Dynasty poets vied with one another to leave their calligraphy on such "poem-inscription walls."

"On the day of the Qinghai marriage alliance, when the imperial star descended. The barbarian king's son-in-law was favored, the Han emperor's maternal family was kind.

Spring fields hosted the parting banquet, cloudy skies inspired words of farewell. Plucking a tune on horseback in vain—how could it lessen the longing of the phoenix tower?"

"Young Master, I feel this poem isn't even as good as the ones you write."

Fang Laique said dismissively.

The attendant pretended he hadn't heard that remark. In fact, as far as he knew, more than one person had already taken issue with this poem.

But others taking issue was one thing; the poem of a former chancellor was not something a relay station attendant like him could critique.

"Bring a brush."

Fang Chongyong said to the attendant. Soon, the other party brought over a wooden board and a brush.

"Jade beauty though buried in Mawei's dust, grievous spirit and smoke lock the Wei ferry crossing. Cicada-temples did not follow the imperial carriage away, and to this day vainly move those who pass by."

Signed "Nameless."

After writing the four lines, Fang Chongyong handed it to the attendant and said, "Hang it up."

"Ah, yes, yes."

The attendant felt it was odd. Chang'an had many cultured people, and with all the comings and goings, a relay station attendant without some learning certainly couldn't serve these demanding and pretentious literati well. It was just that this poem… he couldn't understand it!

After the attendant left, Fang Laique leaned in and asked in confusion, "Young Master, I didn't understand it."

"It's right that you didn't understand."

Fang Chongyong sighed. Who could have imagined that a dozen-odd years later, An Lushan would raise troops in Youzhou, capture Chang'an in one stroke, and Li Longji would flee in panic to Shu—and at Mawei Relay Station order the death of Yang Yuhuan!

It was enough to make one sigh with endless emotion.

Huanhuan was doing perfectly fine with the Prince of Shou, wasn't she? Brother Ji butted in, and he didn't end up well either.

Why bother.

Just then, the attendant hung another wooden board on the wall. On it was written:

"Seeing you off, I sigh at the long parting; as a guest, I think of our times together.

The road ahead is like this now; the vanguard army is still far away.

Leaving the pass, one meets the Han ramparts; climbing the heights, one gazes at the barbarian sky.

This too is a land for earning a marquisate—I hope you soon crack the whip."

The title was "Seeing Off Judge Dugu's Troop Dispatch."

Simply put, the person who wrote this poem composed a farewell poem for a judge surnamed Dugu, and both of them were now at Mawei Relay Station. From the details in the poem, this judge surnamed Dugu was likely heading to Hexi, or perhaps the Western Regions.

One could tell that this poet was having a rather hard time of it. Fawning on this judge to such a degree—Fang Chongyong couldn't help shaking his head and sighing.

Come to think of it, among Tang poems, the number of similar farewell poems was countless, yet few were of high quality. They had even become a "standard program" for officials' social send-offs and receptions.

However, though both the one seeing someone off and the one being seen off were expected to write poems as social obligation, in many cases it was the one doing the fawning who racked his brains to compose a poem, while the one being fawned upon casually dashed one off to be done with it.

Of course, there were exceptions, Wang Lun for instance.

"Peach Blossom Pool is a thousand feet deep, yet not as deep as Wang Lun's affection in seeing me off." It was this Wang Lun, a county magistrate of no modesty of means, who treated Li Bai to food, drink, and entertainment all in one package, thereby leaving behind Li Bai's calligraphy to be passed down to later generations.

Otherwise, who the hell in later generations would know who Wang Lun was!

A man who couldn't even make it into the "Inspector Records."

Before long, a middle-aged man added a signature to it: Gao Shi.

"So it's Gao Shi."

Fang Chongyong saw that this poem was actually written by Gao Shi!

No wonder, then. He suddenly understood. At this time, any scholar from Hebei who wanted to climb upward had to grovel before the powerful, because the avenues of advancement were essentially all blocked.

As a Hebei scholar with talent but no connections, one could only seek opportunities everywhere. Lowering oneself to write a poem fawning over a judge—a mid-ranking frontier official—was really not excessive.

One judge was nothing, but what if one fawned on a hundred officials of similar rank? Would that still be nothing?

As long as you fawned on enough people, you could still make waves!

By doing this, apart from some loss of face, Gao Shi was able to build a powerful network of connections. Once an opportunity arose, he could worm his way into that circle of the powerful that had once been "visible but unreachable."

Of course, under normal circumstances, even if you built good relationships with these mid-level officials, it would still be very difficult to advance in the officialdom. The rule of the Tang officialdom—at least the current rule—was this: a hundred eggs added together still could not match a single stone.

A single recommendation from a Chief Minister far surpassed a joint letter from a hundred judges.

Navigating the officialdom was sometimes very easy, and sometimes very difficult; the key was what your background was.

Fang Chongyong thought about how he himself could get promoted without doing anything, while someone like Gao Shang humbled himself everywhere and built good relationships with officials at every level yet could not advance an inch, and a sense of absurdity suddenly arose in his heart.

"Go over there and ask them. Just say that Fang Chongyong, son of Jiedushi Fang of Youzhou, would like to invite them for a cup of wine and make friends. Ask whether they would be willing to do him the honor of accepting."

Fang Chongyong called Fang Dafu over and whispered in his ear. (End of this volume)

(Next volume: The Heroic Spirit of Han and Tang, Half in Hexi)