Chapter 2110: Taizong Arc 52: Prince of Linzi

In the seventh month of autumn in the thirteenth year of Yongxi, Suzhou, Kunshan County, Zhihe Embankment.

Within Suzhou's borders, three river channels connected the canal system and the Yangtze, and the Zhihe Embankment was one of them (the other two being Changshu–Baimao Creek and Songjiang). Thanks to the benefits of these waterways, Kunshan prospered. If one were to compile a ranking of economic development across all counties of the Great Han, Kunshan might not crack the top ten, but it would certainly make the top twenty.

Not far from the county seat, on the banks of the Zhihe Embankment, a brand-new school had risen: Loujiang Academy. The academy's history was very short—the entire complex had been completed only a year ago and had just recently opened its doors. Its student body was small, temporarily numbering only about a hundred, yet its origins were far from ordinary.

This was a school spearheaded by the powerful and influential of Suzhou, Xiuzhou, and Shanghai, with funds pooled by great merchants and notable figures. It was an institution whose primary curriculum focused on mathematics and numerological arts, and it was also the Great Han Empire's first "specialized academy" apart from its military schools.

The purpose behind establishing Loujiang Academy was to supply more professional mathematical talent to the increasingly prosperous economies of Su, Xiu, and Shang. Setting aside the other government offices, the Maritime Customs General Taxation Bureau and the various ports under the three prefectures alone had a massive demand for talent.

With the establishment of the customs service, the complete lifting of the restrictions of the old Maritime Trade Superintendency system had caused commercial activity along the river and sea regions to surge, naturally bringing with it various administrative pressures—especially in tax collection, where the hunger for professional talent was extreme, and mere literacy was no longer sufficient.

In early autumn, Loujiang Academy presented a pleasant scene. The river breeze blew gently, and sailboats passed by from time to time, their heavy loads making their progress seem laborious.

The academy was exceptionally quiet, the atmosphere solemn. In the various classrooms, students of disparate ages sat hunched over their desks, brushes in hand, earnestly taking the first major examination since the start of autumn. The exam content was divided into four sections: arithmetic, practical affairs, policy essays, and the Criminal Code.

Clearly, Loujiang Academy was an institution of higher learning. Students without a certain foundational level were generally not admitted—this was determined by the nature of the school, stipulated from the very conception of its founding philosophy.

The academy's program lasted three years. According to the plan, upon completing their studies, students would basically be directly assigned to serve as clerks in the government offices of Suzhou, Xiuzhou, and Shanghai. Therefore, from this perspective, this was not merely a "professional academy" but also a "civil service school," specifically dedicated to cultivating and supplying high-caliber administrative talent for the government.

As the first major examination since the school's founding, it was not just the students—even the academy's headmaster and instructors attached extraordinary importance to it. Just like that neighboring city which was becoming ever more fantastical, Loujiang Academy was also a novel thing.

From its founding philosophy to its teaching model, all of it was new. The examination was the academy's primary means of testing teaching results at each stage, and the examination format was also closer to the imperial examinations and the government's administrative assessments. Whether this whole model worked, and to what extent, no one could be certain until it had been practically verified.

Upon learning of Loujiang Academy's major examination, Commandery Prince Linzi, Liu Wenji, carved out time from his busy schedule to come and inspect. He arrived lightly attended, without prior notice, and upon arrival requested a low-key reception, only asking Headmaster Wang Xuexin to accompany him on a brief tour. During the tour, he remained silent throughout, so as not to disturb the students taking their exams.

Headmaster Wang Xuexin also had an interesting background. A native of Shangqiu, he had been orphaned and poor since childhood, but was fond of reflection and diligent in study. Growing up, he entered Suiyang Academy to pursue learning, becoming a disciple of the great educator Qi Tongwen. Over the past half century, Suiyang Academy and Qi Tongwen had been renowned throughout the cultural circles of the Great Han, producing many notable figures.

Qi Tongwen was a scholar who had devoted his entire life to education and firmly believed in loyalty, filial piety, integrity, and righteousness. He enjoyed great prestige among the literati and had even been received by Emperor Shizu. Both in literary circles and at court, there was a "Suiyang School."

For Wang Xuexin to be accepted as a disciple by Qi Tongwen—a man rigorous in his scholarship and teaching—he clearly had ability. Unlike Qi Tongwen's other students who had risen to prefectural, circuit, or even ministerial positions, Wang Xuexin had not taken the official career path. Instead, he was devoted to teaching, serving as a professor at Suiyang Academy.

Unfortunately, although Wang Xuexin was Qi Tongwen's final disciple, he was ultimately an outsider by surname. And although Suiyang Academy had later been designated an official institution, control remained primarily in the hands of the Qi clan's descendants. As for Wang Xuexin, he had some new ideas about education, but they were often criticized as "heretical and deviant," and his circumstances were never entirely satisfactory.

It was not until Loujiang Academy began construction and was officially established that Wang Xuexin received an invitation to come to Kunshan to teach. If it had been an ordinary invitation, Wang Xuexin would not have agreed—even the Directorate of Education in the capital might not have lured him (and in fact, he couldn't go there; even if he did, he might not have stayed). But Loujiang Academy was different.

First, it was an official school, backed by the three prefectures of Jiangnan. Second, it was a brand-new institution, founded with the purpose of supplying clerical talent to the government. Breaking new ground and innovating held great appeal for Wang Xuexin, and he had been allowed to serve as headmaster, with all teaching and administration arranged by him, free to exercise his talents to the fullest.

Of course, there was an even more important reason: Commandery Prince Linzi, Liu Wenji, had personally written a letter to Wang Xuexin. These literati types—they certainly had their pride, but they also responded to the gesture of a worthy person humbling themselves before talent. Especially when someone of sufficiently high status made the overture, all pretense of aloofness could be set aside.

For instance, Liu Wenji had given Wang Xuexin both face and favorable treatment, and combined with a relative alignment in educational philosophy, Wang Xuexin's journey south became only natural.

With Wang Xuexin leading a group of friends, disciples, and students southward, plus talent scouted from the local Jiangnan region, Loujiang Academy's educational resources were immediately secured. As for students, there was truly no shortage.

At the very least, the sons of the powerful, the landowners, and the wealthy merchants of the three prefectures were more than willing to study here. The title of "cradle of government clerical talent" was extraordinarily attractive. At least in the Yongxi era of the Great Han, not every scholar was single-mindedly set on the imperial examination path—that road was simply too difficult.

Clearly, behind the establishment of Loujiang Academy, Commandery Prince Linzi Liu Wenji had exerted tremendous effort—one could even say he had played a leading role. This also explained how the conflict-ridden three prefectures of Su, Xiu, and Shang had managed to reach consensus on this matter: it was the intervention of power from a higher level.

Liu Wenji had already spent three years in the Jiangnan Circuit. He had long since stopped working at the Maritime Customs, but Emperor Liu Yang had assigned him a new post as Jiangnan Provincial Inspector, responsible for overseeing official conduct and maintaining public order in the region.

As early as the winter of the eleventh year of Yongxi, due to his solid work ethic, low-key demeanor, and modesty, Liu Wenji had been elevated to the rank of Commandery Prince of Linzi.

It was worth noting that ever since Ruyang Prince Liu Wenhuan had fallen from power and the Eastern Palace had its master, Liu Wenji had instead received more attention. Over these three years, there had always been some inexplicable overtures and gestures of goodwill—unfortunately, the Prince of Linzi remained cautious and reserved, ignoring them all, even appearing to keep people at arm's length.

During these three years in the Jiangnan Circuit, Liu Wenji had also offended many people. His strict enforcement of the law and unwavering integrity had naturally encroached upon some people's interests.

But by the same token, he had earned the goodwill of many others. At the very least, he handled matters with perfect impartiality, never showing favoritism, and he appeared quite enlightened, especially toward subordinate officials and merchants. And these two groups, in the entire operational machinery of Great Han society, played roles disproportionate to their political status.

The Prince of Linzi was a man of his word. When he said he would come to Loujiang Academy just to look around, he meant just to look around. After completing a circuit, he unhesitatingly chose to leave, not even staying for a single bite of lunch.

Of course, a conversation with Headmaster Wang Xuexin was unavoidable—after all, he was the one who had invited the man here, and showing respect was essential.

Wang Xuexin did offer a suggestion: after the examination concluded, he intended to gather all the faculty and students of the academy so that Liu Wenji could give a speech, letting the teachers and students know of the Prince of Linzi's kindness.

One should understand that the core supporting force behind the academy's construction came from Liu Wenji. Yet in this regard, Liu Wenji had "finished his work and brushed off his clothes, hiding his name and deeds in the depths"—he never claimed credit or sought fame, and even refused and forbade others from publicizing the matter. Wang Xuexin's suggestion was clearly an attempt to spread Liu Wenji's reputation, to let the faculty and students of Loujiang Academy know who their benefactor was. It was also the only thing he could offer in return to Liu Wenji at this stage.

However, he had still underestimated the Prince of Linzi. To Wang Xuexin's proposal, Liu Wenji refused almost without a moment's thought, and with a very stern attitude, in a tone bordering on warning, told Wang Xuexin never to entertain such considerations again.

Faced with Liu Wenji's resoluteness, Wang Xuexin was not afraid—merely astonished. Eventually, he tentatively asked Liu Wenji why he would painstakingly establish such an important administrative academy, seeking neither fame nor profit, contributing in silence. In Wang Xuexin's interpretation, such an act clearly carried another layer of meaning.

Liu Wenji's reaction further corroborated his speculation. However, Wang Xuexin was not foolish, nor did he belabor the matter with further words. What Wang Xuexin sought was simply to teach and cultivate talent, to exercise his strengths—and of course, a bit of fame as well. This much he himself did not deny.

"I pushed for the establishment of Loujiang Academy to serve the nation, to cultivate useful talent for the court and the government offices—why would I need fame!" Liu Wenji offered a simple explanation.

As he was leaving, he smiled and added to Wang Xuexin: "If I have any request, it's that two years from now, I'll want to select some capable talents from the academy. For the students who perform outstandingly, Headmaster Wang, you must save them for me!"

To this, Wang Xuexin naturally smiled along and assented.

"Your Highness, urgent dispatch from the capital!" Liu Wenji's official vessel was slowly sailing along the Zhihe Embankment toward the Yangtze when, inside the cabin, a middle-aged man dressed as a senior attendant hurried in to report.

Liu Wenji, who had been studying the customs revenue situation of Shanghai over the past few years, raised his head and extended his hand. The messenger immediately presented the urgent document.

He quickly tore it open and read. A hint of emotion flickered across his stern face. Setting it down, he pondered briefly, then ordered: "Transmit the order—once we enter the Yangtze, turn west and return to Jinling!"

"Yes!"

Over the past two years, Liu Wenji had primarily remained in Jinling. No matter how rapidly, novelly, or spectacularly Shanghai developed, Jiangning Prefecture was still the capital of the Jiangnan Circuit—its political status was simply there. And in the Great Han Empire, political considerations always came before economic ones.

But as for Shanghai, Liu Wenji made a trip there once or twice every year. This great commercial city, rapidly awakening on the shore of the Eastern Sea, drew people of every stripe—dragons and snakes mingled together—and had imperceptibly become an important "base" for Liu Wenji: a base of political resources, economic resources, and talent resources.

This time, Liu Wenji had set out from Jinling on an eastern inspection tour, passing through Run, Chang, and Suzhou, with his final destination being Shanghai.

The reason he chose to abandon his original plan was simple: news had come from the capital that Emperor Liu Yang had issued an edict intending to tour the southeast. Liu Wenji naturally had to return to Jiangning Prefecture to coordinate with the circuit's senior officials on all matters concerning receiving the imperial entourage and the emperor's progress through the Jiangnan Circuit.

After all, this was the first time the Emperor had toured the southeast since ascending the throne. To be fair, Liu Yang was a relatively diligent ruler—he personally attended to affairs of state and never slackened.

Over the past decade or more, he had already gone on four inspection tours: one each to the southwest and northwest, and two trips to the north. Moreover, he tended to prefer visiting places with poorer conditions, but had never once deigned to visit the prosperous and scenic southeast.

This time, the Emperor had finally been moved to go, and the entire southeast was set abuzz. Especially for the Jiangnan Circuit, for the city of Jinling in Jiangning Prefecture, it was particularly momentous—after all, forty years ago, it was the Yongxi Emperor who, on behalf of the court, had accepted the surrender of Li Yu, sovereign of Jiangnan.

Toward His Majesty the Emperor, the officials and people of Jiangnan naturally harbored "profound" feelings—though of course, those feelings were built upon the foundation of his being their Emperor.

This matter was equally important to Commandery Prince Linzi Liu Wenji. First, the assessment of the Jiangnan Circuit was also an assessment of him. Having been here for three years, he was precisely in need of demonstrating results.

Second, his mother, Virtuous Consort Xiao (elevated to Virtuous Consort in the eleventh year of Yongxi), his wife Lady Li, and his son and daughter had all come along as well—this was an opportunity for family reunion.

Over the past three years, Liu Wenji had been constantly occupied with Jiangnan official business. Apart from returning to the capital for half a month to a month each year during the New Year and Lantern Festival, he spent all his time in Jiangnan.

His wife, Lady Li, had been kept in the capital by Liu Wenji to care for their children and attend to his mother. With the lesson of "Consort Chang" as a warning, Lady Li—always low-key, plain, dignified, and respectful—appeared all the more commendable. She and her two children (Liu Jili and Liu Fen) were all greatly beloved by Emperor Liu Yang.

The southern tour of the thirteenth year of Yongxi was perhaps the most "extravagant" tour since Liu Yang's ascension—at the very least, the entourage, including ministers, guards, and palace attendants, exceeded ten thousand people for the first time.

Of course, the inspection policy remained the same as before. Even in the wealthy southeast, Liu Yang still forbade local contributions, and any infringement upon the livelihoods of local officials and people because of his tour was strictly prohibited.

After every tour, Liu Yang would audit the accounts and send secret envoys on "follow-up visits," yet every time, some mischief would occur.

For instance, during his second northern tour, he had stayed five days in Xinghua County on the northern circuit of the Yan Mountains. Although all supplies taken from the locality were purchased at marked-up prices, it still caused tremendous disruption to the area. Later, taking pity on the hardships of its officials and people, Liu Yang issued an edict exempting the entire county from one year's taxes. The result was that the taxes were still collected—they just went into the pockets of the bureaucrats.

Before setting out, Liu Yang naturally made another round of arrangements for the court. This time, he did not bring Crown Prince Liu Wenpeng along, but left him to oversee the state, with Zhao Prince Liu Fang, Director of State Affairs Zhang Qixian, Minister of the Left Murong Defeng, and Commissioner of Military Affairs Gao Qiong jointly assisting the government alongside the ministers of the various departments.

Among the attendant officials accompanying the carriage was one man of special status—Liu Wenhuan, Prince of Ruyang. It takes far less than three years for a man to wither and fall into ruin; it is hard to imagine how Liu Wenhuan managed to endure the past three years.

Of course, it was also because Liu Yang harbored a father's compassion that, once the events of that year had gradually faded, he brought him out for a change of scenery and to lift his spirits—for prolonged seclusion within one's residence is enough to drive a man mad.