Chapter 85: Lord, Minister, and Assistant (Part 1)

In the autumn of the twenty‑sixth year of the Kaiyuan era, after years of poor harvests, Guanzhong enjoyed a rare great bumper crop.

Thus Li Longji ordered the left prime minister Zhang Shougui to oversee the implementation of the "He Di" method in Guanzhong: purchasing grain from Guanzhong at a price twenty percent above market value to supply Chang'an's needs.

For a time, the court and the realm rejoiced, and the people shouted "Long live the emperor!"

The measure both prevented the "low grain prices harming farmers" and filled the granaries.

Since revenue had been increased, it was natural to cut expenses. Li Longji also ordered that the canal transport volume be halved. The costly Jiangnan canal transport would no longer be organized by the government; profits and losses would be decided by merchants in each region.

Whether to transport or not, what to transport or not, the court would not interfere.

To replenish the treasury, Li Longji appointed Yang Shenjin as Censor-in-Chief and Grand Minister of the Treasury; he also appointed his brother Yang Shenming as Censor-in-Chief and assigned him as Han Jia Granary Treasurer, taking over Zheng Shuqing's former duties. Additionally, he appointed Yang Shenyu as Prince's Attendant, Deputy Censor, and put him in charge of the Capital Granary.

The three Yang brothers suddenly rose to prominence, becoming the new elite forces promoted by Li Longji, overseeing major state treasuries and subtly sharing power with Li Linji. Li Linji's confidant Zheng Shuqing not only volunteered to relinquish his position as Assistant Minister of the Ministry of Revenue, but was also dispatched to Qizhou as a prefect, which can be seen as Li Linji's compromise in response to the appointments of Ji Ge.

The father of the three Yang brothers, Yang Chongli, served as Grand Minister of the Treasury for twenty years, consistently just and incorruptible. When he was over ninety, he was appointed Minister of the Ministry of Revenue, but due to age and illness he was relieved of his Grand Minister post; he has been dead for three years now.

On the surface, this appears to be Li Longji recalling old ties and caring for Yang Chongli's descendants, promoting them vigorously.

But from the perspective of actual power politics, whether it is the Assistant Minister of the Ministry of Revenue Zheng Shuqing's "voluntary demotion", the Minister of the Ministry of Revenue being concurrently held by Zhang Shougui, or the three Yang brothers each taking charge of the capital's state treasury and granaries, all indicate Li Linji's authority steadily eroding.

It's hard to say whether Li Longji is striking at Li Linji, or, as outsiders might see, Li Longji is punishing Li Linji for his strong support of the Prince of Longevity, Li Chang!

As for the real reason, only Li Longji knows it in his own heart.

Recently, Li Linji's residence in Pingkang Lane has become deserted, with no party allies or confidants coming to plot. Li Linji's quiet and compliant demeanor leaves people unable to guess what he is truly thinking.

In Chang'an's ever‑shifting political landscape, even veteran officials like He Zhizhang must act cautiously, no longer daring to slack off and drink as they once did.

At the same time, the proportion of examination‑selected talent in the central court continues to decline, and this year the number of successful jinshi candidates is twenty, far below the historical average of twenty‑seven.

After Zhang Jiuling was dismissed, Li Longji grew noticeably more disdainful of court officials who came from the examination system, perhaps believing they were incompetent and talkative, and unwilling to let them enter the court. Consequently, the Ministry of Personnel under Li Linji kept sending jinshi‑background candidates to the provinces as county magistrates or staff officers.

That day, after attending the autumn harvest ceremony, Li Longji was resting in Qinzhengwubenlou.

The Son of Heaven participated in the harvest celebration outside Chang'an, just like the spring‑planting rites; this "old custom" has been passed down since the Southern and Northern Dynasties, and every Tang emperor since Gaozu has been required to take part, without exception.

Li Longji had attended this event for decades, never missing a single one since his ascension. Yet this year he felt a fatigue emanating from deep within his soul.

Indeed, it was exhaustion—both body and mind were weary.

He was tired of this year‑after‑year "fixed program".

"Lishi, how are the hostilities in Hexi? Have any battle reports arrived?"

Li Longji reclined lazily on the study couch, asking weakly.

The farmers outside Chang'an who took part in the ceremony probably didn't know that the once‑vibrant Holy One of Chang'an was now as exhausted as a dead dog after returning to the Xingqing Palace. Had they known, perhaps they would no longer hold him in much respect.

Fortunately, only Gao Lishi was aware of Li Longji's fatigue.

"Your Majesty, Wang Zhongsi led troops to capture the new Tibetan city. He has submitted a memorial for your instruction on the next steps. He proposes establishing a new army in the city to block the vital routes, preventing the Tibetans from easily entering Dadou Valley."

Gao Lishi, widely read and sharp‑memored, possessed considerable administrative talent. He recited Wang Zhongsi's memorial to Li Longji verbatim; the emperor nodded repeatedly, though he seemed indifferent to the Tang army's victory in Hexi.

"Very well, then establish a Wei‑Rong army in the new city, with a strength of a thousand men."

Li Longji accepted Wang Zhongsi's suggestion in full; the war against Tibet was merely an appetizer.

"By the way, Military Governor of Hexi Cui Xiyi, now infamous among the Tibetans for betraying trust, has been used by the Tibetan emperor to rally morale, seeking revenge for Cui Xiyi's broken alliance against Qili Xu. How do you think this should be handled, Your Majesty?"

Gao Lishi asked cautiously.

His meaning was simple: should the court vindicate Cui Xiyi?

If the court were to vindicate Cui Xiyi, his actions would be a 'righteous deed' authorized by the Tang court; after all, deception is a military art, what moral high ground could be claimed against the Tibetan clowns?

If the court remains silent or even punishes Cui Xiyi, it would show that the move was the Military Governor of Hexi's 'unauthorized use of troops', and the loss to Tibet would be blamed on Cui Xiyi himself, not the Tang court.

Yet those in the know understand that Cui Xiyi originally had no intention of attacking Tibet; he only did so under court pressure. From that perspective, the clown is not Tibet, nor Cui Xiyi, but the over‑ambitious Li Longji.

But how can the Holy One be a clown?

Therefore, the only possible clowns are Tibet or Cui Xiyi!

As expected, without Gao Lishi's prediction, Li Longji paused briefly and said, "Dismiss Cui Xiyi from his position as Military Governor of Hexi, reassign him as Governor of Henan, letting him govern a region in Luoyang."

"Then, who will succeed as Military Governor of Hexi?"

"Let Xiao Jiong take the post, promote Wang Zhongsi to Deputy Military Governor of Hexi, and have him recommend a vacancy for a Dadou Army commander. Kang Taihe is old now and should return to Chang'an to report on his duties and enjoy his twilight years."

Li Longji's single statement decided the fates of the Hexi officials: promotions, retirements, reassignments—all carried out. As for rewarding the three armies, Ji Ge never mentioned it.

Perhaps in his view, the garrison at the new Tibetan city would be only a thousand men; the Tang forces already massed heavy troops on the southeastern Lingyou region, and in Hexi there were seventy‑to‑eighty thousand elite soldiers available, with the Chishui Army and the veteran Fanhao unit—directly under the throne since the founding of Tang—still serving as elite forces.

With such strength, is it really worth mentioning the subduing of a thousand‑person Tibetan town?

Li Longji clearly did not regard it as the 'feast' he coveted, at most an appetizer.

"After autumn, the Tibetans may launch a major invasion; have Wang Zhongsi prepare. I do not wish to hear of an emergency at Liangzhou City."

Li Longji said bitterly that these military and civil duties consumed much of his time, leaving him no energy for pleasure and disturbing his preferred tranquil state.

"Here, I will take care of it."

Gao Lishi lowered his eyebrows and replied modestly, "I have many doubts, but… never mind. If Li Longji thinks it's nothing, then it is nothing."

"By the way, Huanhuan lives over at Yuzhen; I always feel uneasy. Is there a way to bring her to Xingqing Palace?"

Li Longji tugged Gao Lishi's sleeve and whispered.

Gao Lishi felt a knot in his heart; Li Longji's 'unease' was a façade, his true feeling was 'impatient urgency', but these little secrets were not for this long‑serving personal eunuch to expose.

"Your Majesty, the Prince of Longevity's consort position is vacant. If we bring Yang Yuhuan into Xingqing Palace, it may draw criticism.

Better to arrange the Prince of Longevity's marriage first, ordering a grand wedding soon!

Once the Prince of Longevity takes a wife, everything will fall into place naturally."

Gao Lishi suggested calmly.

"Excellent!"

Li Longji, overjoyed, grasped Gao Lishi's hand and shouted excitedly, "Hurry and do it; it must be splendid and grand so that all of Chang'an knows. Let's hold a massive banquet so everyone can celebrate the Prince of Longevity's marriage."

"I will prepare it right away. But the funds for this grand banquet… should they come from the treasury?"

Gao Lishi asked in confusion.

Li Longji is usually very generous, but when it comes to matters of the treasury, he becomes absurdly stingy.

"Distribute the allocations to all the prefectures and counties of the capital region; don't touch a single coin from the treasury. It's Prince Shou's wedding, not my own!"

Li Longji said impatiently.

……

In this campaign where the Tang army attacked the Tufan New City, Fang Chongyong's advice played a major role. Because the troops were all sharp soldiers under twenty, their adaptability to high‑altitude conditions far surpassed that of the older veterans.

Thus the Tang army fought at an altitude gain of nearly two thousand meters, displaying bold decisiveness and clean efficiency that caught the Tufan completely off guard.

Even so, the fierce battle still left many casualties. Wang Zhongsi established a unit in New City called the "Wei Rong Army" with a fixed strength of one thousand, and appointed Cui Qianyou as its military envoy, tasked with monitoring the Tufan's northward movements.

Wang Zhongsi himself returned to Liangzhou City with the wounded and his remaining troops, and discussed the next course of action with Hexi Military Governor Cui Xiyi.

In the courtyard of a medical hall in Liangzhou City, a number of Tang soldiers lay on the ground. They were all men who had suffered fractures in battle and needed the hall's bone‑setting treatment.

Most Tufan tribes dislike bows and arrows—especially those high‑altitude clans of the Zampu family—and prefer throwing stones with slings called "wu duo." Consequently, in battle the proportion of Tang soldiers with fractures exceeded those wounded by arrows or blades.

These fractured men not only have injuries that are hard to treat on the spot, but also severely hinder marching and fighting.

Because Doctor Li was lame, the affairs of the medical hall were overseen and coordinated by Anaye, with a few Chi Shui Army soldiers assisting on the side. Fang Chongyong, a half‑grown boy, was reduced to nothing more than a spectator.

This was only one of many medical halls in Liangzhou City; dozens of such halls each bore the responsibility of treating Tang casualties. The "subsidies" they received were negligible—being able to recoup the cost of medicinal herbs was already a good fortune.

It could be called a form of corvée that isn't officially labeled as such, and there was no way to refuse.

The military pressure on frontier towns was shouldered by every Hexi resident—whether Han, Sogdian, or assimilated Turk—who had to unconditionally bear this tangible or intangible burden.

Fang Chongyong asked Fang Laique to buy a stack of paper inside the city; he set up a table in the courtyard and began writing home letters for the Tang soldiers here.

"I am safe in Liangzhou City; this campaign against Tufan earned me merit. This year there is no corvée at home, and my younger sister's dowry money is being gathered, so mother need not worry.

Is that all I should write?"

Fang Chongyong looked at the young man before him, whose leg had been broken by a stone hurled from a "wu duo" and was now in a splint, allowing him to limp with a cane, and asked.

"Correct, it's only a minor injury; the family need not worry."

His sun‑tanned face, mottled red and black, broke into a sincere smile, as if the broken leg belonged to the Tufan rather than himself.

"When you finish, leave it with me. Write your name, and later someone will ride the courier road to deliver it to your family in Gua Prefecture."

The Tang soldier signed his name at the end of the letter, then lowered his voice and exclaimed, "Young master, you must be a high official of the court; the scribbles of those Hexi clerks I've seen were all crooked and ugly. Your characters are excellent!"

"Stop flattering me; hand over the one cash."

Fang Chongyong laughed, patted the man's arm, and said.

The one cash isn't a processing fee; it's a reminder to everyone here that any service comes at a price. If this fee isn't taken, the debt of gratitude later could cost a life!

Fang Chongyong's temperament indeed suited the tastes of these Hexi locals; the young soldier with a broken shin carefully produced a "Kaiyuan Tongbao" and placed it on the table, then told him, "Young master, whenever you have a task—provided it isn't rebellion—just send someone to the Chi Shui Army and give a word."

"I'd have to be in utter misery before I'd send you on a job. Keep saving your dowry; stop wasting time on these useless ramblings—out, out, out! Next!"

Fang Chongyong impatiently waved his hand; a hapless soldier whose both hands were broken stepped forward, his face flushed with shame as he lowered his head in silence.

"There are many people queued behind you; could you be quicker?"

Fang Chongyong sighed and said.

"Write a letter to Xiao Hua, telling her not to—"

The man strained for a moment before managing to utter a sentence.

"In heaven I wish to be a pair of winged birds, on earth a joined pair of intertwined branches; if you are to marry, do not marry anyone else—marry me. Is that okay?"

Fang Chongyong asked with a sour, weary expression, fearing the reticent fellow might not be able to utter a single sentence.

"Fine, fine, really fine; there's nothing better."

The soldier's face lit up with surprise; he hadn't expected Fang Chongyong, that half‑grown kid, to be so reliably extraordinary.

"Young master, you're truly impressive!"

He added another sentence.

"Your hands aren't empty; let me sign for you. What's your name again?"

"My name is Liu Zhan, a native of Chenliu; I came to the Hexi frontier at fifteen and have been here five years."

He seemed only afraid of being mocked for desiring a woman, not that he couldn't speak clearly.

"Enough, after five years on the frontier you should return home now."

Fang Chongyong sighed and said, "Give me your military ID card; I'll inform the Military Governor and have you returned to your home region. Sending a veteran who has served many years on the frontier back home isn't too difficult."

In the Hexi area there are still a handful of frontier conscript soldiers—recruited from elsewhere—who, when their term ends, find the military office vacant with no one to replace them, forcing them to remain on local duty until they die.

Now the frontier troops no longer favor such conscripts, believing they have no land here, and thus lack the will to defend the Hexi cities. In battle they will cherish their lives and not give their all.

"Thank you, sir! I can't thank you enough!"

The man was about to kneel, then realized both arms were broken, and could only give Fang Chongyong a dejected nod.

"Go ahead, next."

Fang Chongyong reached into his waist pouch, took out a one‑cash coin, and called the next person forward.

Anaye was surprised to find that the Tang soldiers who had been wailing on the ground had each, on their own, lined up orderly, waiting for Fang Chongyong to write their home letters.

(End of chapter)