Chapter 1624: Xi Prefecture

The twentieth year of Kaibao (982 CE), summer, fourth month, Hedong Circuit, Xi Prefecture.

Xi Prefecture fell under Hedong's jurisdiction, a major prefecture in the southwest of Hedong. Geographically speaking, this was the heartland of the Great Han Empire—yet in many people's eyes, it was a poor, remote backwater. And indeed, that was exactly what it was.

Thirty years ago, after Emperor Liu personally campaigned against the Southern Tang and returned victorious from taking Huainan, he took great strides toward resolving the internal problem of the military provinces. His imperial uncle Liu Chong, who controlled Hedong, naturally became a prime target.

With multiple measures applied simultaneously, Hedong was completely and thoroughly transformed into a circuit-prefecture under direct imperial administration—one of the hallmarks of the Great Han's push toward centralization. Thereafter, Emperor Liu appointed Fan Zhi as Hedong's touring inspector, carrying out a large-scale institutional reform across the entire Hedong region. Consolidating prefectures and merging commanderies was one of the principal measures.

Xi Prefecture was also merged into Daning Prefecture at that time. However, this arrangement lasted only about a decade. After the north and south were unified and the realm was brought under one rule, Emperor Liu again directed the Hall of State Affairs to conduct a comprehensive consolidation of all circuits, prefectures, commanderies, and counties nationwide.

Daning Prefecture, after all, was a product of special circumstances. Its local politics, economy, geography, and popular sentiment simply did not qualify it to be established as a prefecture. Look at what places in the Great Han are now designated as prefectures—taking Hedong as an example, there is only one: Taiyuan Prefecture.

And in terms of administrative rank, prefectures and commanderies belong to the same level. But in the minds of all Great Han officials, a prefecture outranks a commandery. This point has now been made explicit and written into the *Han Compendium of Statutes*.

Thus, after Daning Prefecture was abolished, Xi Prefecture was re-established, once again becoming an independent administrative unit. Xi Prefecture sits at the southern end of the Lüliang Mountains, on the western Shanxi plateau—mountain ridges stacked upon one another, ravines crisscrossing in every direction. Though it borders the Yellow River, its resources are scarce, its economy backward. It is an out-and-out poor place, relatively isolated, with few outside merchants ever coming.

Likewise, public security here is rather poor. Poor mountains and harsh waters breed unruly folk. Over competition for survival resources, feuds between villages have never ceased. Every year, armed brawls break out, causing casualties that the authorities find difficult to root out.

By now, the Xi Prefecture government has effectively fallen into a state of laissez-faire. The locality is already poor enough; local officials see no need to restrain the people with harsh laws and severe punishments.

"When the granaries are full, the people know propriety." For the officials of Xi Prefecture, when the common folk can barely fill their bellies, there is no point talking about social harmony or neighborly goodwill. As long as things don't get too out of hand or stir up any major commotion, it's all acceptable.

The Great Han's current prosperity and strength is, after all, only an overall average. In certain regions—poor, remote backwaters like Xi Prefecture—for the common folk to simply scrape by alive is already no small feat.

But poor as it is, at least it maintains a relatively stable environment. There is no war or chaos, and every household can still keep their mountains and waters, their fields and land.

In recent years, what the villages of Xi Prefecture have probably looked forward to most is the court's notice of conscription. In today's Great Han, the threshold for joining the military is constantly rising. After all, troop quotas are being reduced year by year—fewer in number, higher in quality demanded.

And when the Great Han conscripts, besides those from wealthy and respectable families, it increasingly favors peasants and mountain folk from these impoverished regions. After all, they are easier to feed, more obedient, and easier to indoctrinate. As for the unruly and stubborn types, one tour through the army clears out all their bad habits. What has remained largely unchanged in the Great Han army for over thirty years is its military discipline and law—and every year, soldiers and officers executed for violating military law number in the hundreds.

Take what happened two years ago: Sun Yongzhen, grandson of Duke of Pingyuan Sun Li, and Ma Jiyuan, nephew of Marquis of Leling Ma Renyu, got into a drunken altercation. Both were imperial army officers. After returning to camp, they each led their subordinate soldiers and arranged a brawl.

Not many participated—fifty-some in total—but the matter was very serious. Under Great Han military law, mobilizing troops without orders is treated as treason, and this was in the capital, over a private grudge at that.

In the end, all officers and soldiers involved in the brawl were executed. Including the officers and guards on duty that day, over two hundred people were implicated and punished. As for Ma Renyu himself, he was Deputy Commander of the Imperial Guard, and for this he was removed from office and exiled by Emperor Liu to Yunnan.

And as for the one who was involved—his own grandson—the already very aged Duke of Pingyuan Sun Li dared not utter a single word of plea. He could only let his old tears fall freely as he watched his grandson's severed head part from his body.

For the mountain farmers' sons of Xi Prefecture, the army is truly a rare opportunity to change one's life. Never mind anything else—at least one can eat one's fill and stay warm. Even serving as a militia soldier is better than scratching a living out of the mountain gullies.

As for military discipline, or even going out on campaign—compared to hunger and cold, these are truly trivial. And the annual conscription quota for Xi Prefecture has become a bargaining chip for the local government to mediate village conflicts. Whoever refuses to be disciplined will have this benefit stripped away. Though conscription is mainly handled by the Ministry of War, the locality still has some say.

Still, poor as it is, bad as it is, Xi Prefecture as a whole remains relatively stable. Though unruly folk inevitably stir up trouble, this place was never conspicuous to begin with. Even the directly superior Hedong Circuit pays it little attention—let alone the high court above.

Such poor, remote backwaters have always been this way. Poverty is something one gets used to. The ancestors and predecessors survived, and today's common folk can do the same.

And from the perspective of the Xi Prefecture government, the hardship of the common people's lives is one thing, but it does not hinder their own enjoyment, nor does it diminish their authority. The Xi Prefecture government office is built quite grandly.

Poverty has its advantages too—less competitive pressure, and it makes it convenient to beg Hedong Circuit and the court for aid, for policy favors, for imperial grace. And the greatest benefit of all naturally falls upon these bureaucrats themselves.

It is precisely for this reason that places like Xi Prefecture are the most prone to producing petty local tyrants, the most prone to corruption, to breaking the law and defying discipline. The court has been rectifying official conduct for decades and has achieved no small results. Overall, the places where major cases and abuses surface are, to be sure, the prosperous ones—but when it comes to depth, darkness, and cruelty, it is these poor, remote backwaters that take the prize. The poorer the place, the more severe the situation.

Xi Prefecture's previous Prefectural Administrator, Wang Yin, was exposed by Lu Duoxun. During his six-year tenure, fifty-three charges of varying severity were listed against him—essentially everything a "petty local tyrant" could commit. The charges not listed were simply because he was already eligible for the death penalty, and it would have been wasted effort.

The new Prefectural Administrator of Xi Prefecture is named Zhang Wei. He once served in Prince Wei's household, and was one of Prince Wei Liu Min's tutors. Xi Prefecture is his second substantive post.

But even such a learned, erudite scholar-official who held the common people in his heart—after taking office in Xi Prefecture, the local situation still saw no fundamental change.

The people remained poor; when natural disasters came, famine was still unavoidable. The only difference was that, relying on Administrator Zhang's connections, he could beg for a few more policy concessions.

At the same time, because of his literati-style softness—favoring education, advocating moral transformation, unwilling to punish the people harshly—public security in Xi Prefecture actually grew increasingly chaotic.

Within the prefectural and county walls, harmony could still be maintained—the moral transformation and nurturing of the people that Administrator Zhang hoped for. But beyond the walls, in the vast countryside and mountain wilds, governmental authority had long since decayed. And the authorities, it seems, gradually abandoned the rural governance they had once pried open, as time slipped away.

Why bother? It's troublesome and exhausting. Isn't it just fine to stay in the prefectural and county towns, playing the role of the honored official?