Chapter 1068: Han Xizai Is Getting Anxious

As spring deepened, Kaifeng was rapidly recovering its former prosperity, like plants returning to life and beasts and insects awakening. Bustle was the city's main theme, with countless street sounds filling every lane and alley, converging into the defining voice of this era.

In fact, if one considered only the scale of the city, Kaifeng was already vast enough, but economically, there remained enormous room for growth. The benefits of unifying the south had not yet fully erupted; they awaited the complete opening of trade routes between north and south.

Before the pacification of the south, after a full decade of management, using Huainan as a springboard, economic ties between the Central Plains and Jiangnan had grown increasingly close. Of course, there were always limits—after all, they were two separate powers; the Yangtze was broad, but not as vast as the political chasm between them.

However, with the destruction of the Jinling regime and Wuyue's voluntary surrender of its territory, the obstacles to economic exchange were thoroughly removed. Once connections were established, northern merchants could safely travel south, venturing deep into Suzhou and Hangzhou, while southern traders and goods could boldly ship northward.

But to those with far-seeing eyes, the current situation had not developed as anticipated. Between dry firewood and blazing flame, there seemed to still be a transparent curtain of water blocking the way.

The problem lay in the court's tight control and blockade of the Jiangnan region. Though half of the more than two hundred thousand land and naval troops from the southern campaign had gradually withdrawn north, the remainder, along with reorganized local armies, still maintained a seal on the entire Jiangzhe region.

It was like after the pacification of Shu years ago, when communication between Shu and the Central Plains was severed for several months, and economic recovery took nearly a year. The difference was that Chuanshu's external communications were genuinely inconvenient, compounded by that large-scale Shu rebellion, whereas in Jiangzhe, it was a deliberate act by the court.

From the fall of Jinling to Wuyue's surrender of territory, as the court adjusted its military and political arrangements, the Jiangzhe region experienced considerable upheaval. Mainly under Emperor Liu's edicts, the court was inventorying and tallying its "spoils of war"—population, land, finances, culture, institutions, officials, powerful clans... Until everything was sorted out and brought under governance, the prohibitions would not be lifted.

If one spoke of liveliness, the Eastern Capital's markets were unmatched, especially the Southern Market. Traces of the celebrations still remained among the steles and archways; decorative ribbons still swayed gently in the breeze, though clearly dirtied, no longer as bright and fresh as before. One could still hear commoners discussing the grandeur of that day's festivities.

Han Xizai, at this moment, was basking in the spring light, strolling leisurely, wandering through the market, occasionally stopping to listen to these street sounds. Carriages and horses flowed like a river, crowds surged like tides—that was probably the truest portrayal of the city. The passing traffic made even the streets that had undergone major expansion feel crowded.

Han Xizai had some impressions of Kaifeng. His youthful memories were already vague, but his feelings from over a decade ago were still deep. At that time, the court had pushed back the Later Shu in the southwest and pacified Li Shouzhen in Hezhong, easing the critical situation. To resolve the conflict with the court along the Huai River front, Han Xizai, who was then out of favor at the Jinling court, was ordered to go on a diplomatic mission.

That journey north left him deeply impressed by Emperor Liu and the city of Kaifeng. At that time, Kaifeng had only recently been brought under governance; everything was barely stable, and in terms of prosperity, it was far inferior to Jinling. Yet from that order established and maintained through forceful means, Han Xizai sensed the court's resolve and detected a soaring ambition. He regarded them as a great enemy and was deeply wary.

Years later, he came north again, but this time as a surrendered minister. The change in status was somewhat hard to adjust to, but Kaifeng's transformation left him in awe. Han Xizai was a learned scholar who had read widely. In his view, if the records were accurate, in terms of urban prosperity and development, perhaps only Luoyang during the Sui and Tang dynasties could compare—even Chang'an of old could not match it in economic terms.

In the eyes of discerning men, it was not surprising that a court and regime like the Great Han should emerge in the north of the Central Plains. After all, times create heroes; the realm had been in chaos for so long that a great ruler was bound to appear eventually—that was the law of history.

But to reform the old ills and develop the state to this degree within fifteen or sixteen years, while essentially achieving national unification—that was astonishing. Perhaps there was the accumulation of the previous three generations, perhaps it aligned with the people's longing for stability, but the efforts the Great Han's sovereign and ministers had put in, and the hardships they endured, were indelible.

For Han Xizai personally, his feelings ran even deeper. Back then, because his family was implicated in a rebellion, he was forced to leave his homeland, crossing south over the Huai River. There was certainly an element of seeking refuge, but also a desire to accomplish great things in the south.

After all, the north at that time, though the Later Tang's Emperor Mingzong Li Siyuan had come to power and was cleaning up the mess, had deep-rooted ills that were hard to change, with endless internal troubles. The central government and the regional military provinces still had plenty of energy to stir up trouble and wear each other down.

In contrast, the south's Xu Zhigao, inheriting Xu Wen's foundation and controlling the Yang Wu regime, recruited worthy men. At that time, Yang Wu already occupied the vast territories of Huainan and the two river regions, with political stability, peaceful livelihoods, and no weak military. One could say it was thriving and full of potential.

Back then at Zhengyang Ferry, that wager with Li Gu—what boldness it was! Han Xizai had been full of spirit and confidence. Yet the gap between ideal and reality was wider than the Yangtze and the Huai River combined; without a suitable boat, even a hero must sigh.

Jinling had always been called a land of kingly aura, a crouching tiger and coiled dragon. But producing a hero who cherished the common people and could conquer the realm was truly too difficult. In a thousand years, only one Liu Jinu had possessed that tiger-like ambition to swallow ten thousand miles.

Yet Xu Zhigao was, after all, only Li Bian. From Li Jing to Li Yu, asking them to accomplish a great enterprise was asking too much of them...

Decades had passed; he was already a man with half his body in the grave. Returning again, returning to the starting point, still hoping to do something real and leave a legacy behind—thinking of it, he could not help but mock himself.

Clearly, he should have stayed in the north back then, like Li Gu.

Thinking of that day, his old friend ranked among the Twenty-Four Meritorious Ministers, his name recorded in history—what joy that was! But thinking of Li Gu's fortunes, Han Xizai felt perhaps he had not lost too badly.

At least when Li Gu served under the Tang and Jin dynasties, his fortunes were no better than his own. He himself could at least speak with the Southern Tang sovereign and participate in military and state affairs—even if his real power was weak, he was still at the decision-making level.

As for Li Gu, had he not been fortunate enough to encounter Emperor Liu at the end of the Jin, how could he have achieved what he had today? He had assisted mediocre rulers, stood with a crowd of comfort-seeking ministers against a heaven-ordained hero, ultimately failed, and fallen to the status of a surrendered captive. That was both fortune and fate; there was no need for self-pity...

Mm, thinking this way, Han Xizai perhaps did feel a bit better.

The important thing was that now he, Han, in the twilight of his life, had also thrown in his lot with the Great Han's Son of Heaven. This opportunity had to be seized.

Han Xizai was old in body but not in spirit; his inner thoughts were rich. But the more he thought, the more anxious he grew, beginning to fret over gains and losses. That day in Jinling, Li Gu had personally come to visit, expressing his intent to recommend talent to the court, and Han Xizai had not continued to hold back.

Afterwards, he followed Li Yu north to Kaifeng. Now, nearly two months had passed. Lodging had been arranged, but only his placement remained undecided. From what Li Gu had hinted, the Emperor still intended to use him, yet so long had passed without an audience.

He had gone to the Qionglin Garden, attended the grand ceremony by invitation, and been present at the night banquet in Chongyuan Hall—but none of these were what he truly wanted. After all, even Xu Xuan, who had offended the Emperor, had been assigned to the history bureau to compile the Records of Jiangbiao and sort through documents.

Of course, arrangements had not been lacking for Han Xizai. Because of his reputation, Wei Renpu and Dou Yi had originally planned to have him serve as Remonstrance Counselor in the Secretariat-Chancellery. But Han Xizai had refused—the office of "remonstrance" was what he had spent most of his life doing, and he had grown somewhat averse to it.

When the matter was reported to Liu Chengyou, Emperor Liu's reply was simple: let him decide for himself. So during this period, Han Xizai, with a complex mood, observed the Eastern Capital's customs and atmosphere, examining closely, experiencing deeply, and gaining a thorough understanding of the Great Han's institutions and the workings of its government.

No matter how rich his inner activity, his outward bearing remained that of a celebrated scholar—neither hurried nor flustered.

"Sir, you walk the streets all day, wandering from morning till night—what exactly are you looking at?" Finally, a young servant following beside him could not help but ask.

Han Xizai glanced sideways at him, noticed the young man's slight stamping of feet, and a faint smile appeared on his aged face: "Tired of walking? Then let's find a place to rest our feet!"