Chapter 2154: Taizong Chronicles 22: The Third Year of Jianlong

In the summer of the third year of Jianlong (1020), Emperor Liu Wenji, having concluded the first imperial tour of his reign, took up residence in the Eastern Capital, Kaifeng—this also marked the first time in over a decade that the Son of Heaven of the Great Han Empire had set foot in this city.

For a long time, the Great Han had maintained a capital system of "two capitals of equal standing, with other cities serving as companions," yet the principle of "two capitals of equal standing" had in fact already begun to break down somewhat in the late Kaibao period.

On the one hand, Empress Fu had passed away in the Eastern Capital, making Kaifeng a place of sorrow for Emperor Shizu, who, compounded by the indolence of his later years, essentially never set foot there again. By the Yongxi era, over the course of fourteen years, Emperor Taizong's every thought and effort was devoted to governance of the state, refinement of institutions, and correction of malpractices—he did visit Kaifeng once, but that was all.

As for the Pingkang period, Emperor Kangzong had also spent some time in the Eastern Capital, but in Kangzong's view, whatever Kaifeng had, Luoyang also had; moreover, Kaifeng's palaces were not as grand and magnificent as the Purple Micro City, and its hunting and pleasure gardens were far less vast and rich than Luoyang's Western Gardens. Constrained as he was by a host of Yongxi-era auxiliary ministers, he naturally could not muster much interest in the Eastern Capital. Once Kangzong took the reins of power himself, his restless heart could not be satisfied by mere Kaifeng—heading south and north was his choice...

By the time Liu Wenji succeeded to the throne, his main energy was devoted to consolidating his position and reshaping imperial authority. Entering the Jianlong era, as Liu Wenji gradually sounded his own powerful note of the age, he finally found leisure to cast his gaze beyond the Western Capital, and only then did the Eastern Capital come into his view.

Just as consorts in the palace who lose the emperor's favor are deemed to have fallen from grace, representing a decline in their status and power within the palace—though not entirely comparable, a similar logic could be applied to the standing of the two capitals. At least over the past thirty years, in the minds of many, the Western Capital, Luoyang, was the empire's most legitimate imperial capital, because the emperor and the central court were there, and everyone had grown accustomed to this.

But these people, obviously, did not include Kaifeng. In the hearts of the Eastern Capital's gentry and commoners, they were the center of the world, the force most relied upon for the empire's rise, the pacification of the realm, and the repelling of the four barbarians. When Kaifeng was providing support for Emperor Shizu's illustrious achievements, your Luoyang only held an empty title of "ancient capital," desolate and dilapidated.

Of course, Kaifeng also had its grounds for pride. Politically, though its status had slipped somewhat, it remained an imperial capital of the empire, a legitimate imperial capital by name and by right—the name and substance of "the Eastern Capital" could not be stripped away by anyone.

In population, Kaifeng was one of only two cities in the Great Han Empire to exceed one million. Over the past several decades, with advances in productivity and economic prosperity, large cities had been springing up across the Great Han Empire from south to north. By the Jianlong era, cities with populations over one hundred thousand were everywhere, and some even surpassed five hundred thousand—such as Yangzhou, Jinling, Chengdu, Guangzhou, Hangzhou, Daming Prefecture, and Youzhou—but the million mark still remained far off.

Population scale had always been an important measure of a city's comprehensive strength. What made Kaifeng special was that even when the central court institutions and various government offices were permanently stationed in Luoyang, it still maintained a population exceeding one million. To be frank, if the court were to move back to Kaifeng one day, it would not take long—just three to five years—and given Luoyang's conditions, it would absolutely be unable to maintain its "million-city" status. This was precisely the gap between the two capitals.

Economically, there was even less need to mention it. By the third year of Jianlong, the Eastern Capital remained the Great Han Empire's most important economic center, with the nation's strongest economic strength and an unshakable economic position. Situated at the center of the realm, commanding the convergence of waterways and land routes, gathering the wealth and goods of all directions—these were the Eastern Capital's incomparable advantages.

Over the past several decades, the southern economy had come to occupy an ever-larger share of the empire's economic map, especially the southeast region, which had visibly surpassed the Central Plains and Hebei. But no matter how well it developed, its wealth and goods ultimately had to be delivered faithfully and continuously to the central government. The empire's enormous expenditure on Jianghuai water conservancy and the opening of north-south river transport was precisely for this purpose.

And the salt, tea, grain, and cloth shipped annually from the southeast to the north constituted an extremely vast quantity of materials, most of which passed through the Eastern Capital for transshipment, ultimately reaching Luoyang or being distributed to the other northern circuits, prefectures, and counties. This single item alone had an unimaginable stimulative effect on the Eastern Capital's economy.

At the same time, the great coastal cities of the south, which combined maritime and land advantages and had accelerated their urban development under the wave of overseas trade, certainly possessed enormous potential, but their political disadvantage was difficult to remedy. Therefore, for a very long time, the Eastern Capital's position in the empire's economic

landscape would be very difficult to shake.

On the other hand, starting from the Taizong period, Luoyang had shown signs of grain shortages, requiring the coordination of 500,000 to 1,000,000 shi of various grains and rice from Kaifeng each year to stabilize prices and meet the Western Capital's needs.

On this point alone, Luoyang could not afford to be overly arrogant in facing Kaifeng. At the same time, some voices from the Eastern Capital had also reached the throne through various channels, hoping the court would move back to the old capital where the enterprise was founded. Luoyang could not support the court, but Kaifeng could.

This time, the imperial entourage's arrival in Kaifeng was even regarded by some Eastern Capital gentry and commoners bursting with pride as a victory over Luoyang—to the point that some were already organizing joint petitions for the emperor to take up permanent residence in the Eastern Capital...

Of course, for Emperor Liu Wenji, there was no thought of relocating the court again—there was truly no need, and no necessity for the time being. Moreover, this was itself a massive undertaking that would easily exhaust the people and drain the treasury. Liu Wenji was not Emperor Shizu, for whom such decisions could be made with a single sentence; he had too many considerations, even more than Emperor Taizong.

This visit to the Eastern Capital upon returning from the southern tour had been planned before the tour began. Liu Wenji made this decision partly because he valued Kaifeng's enormous and important supplementary role to Luoyang, and partly to reassure the hearts of the people in the Eastern Capital.

The various factions within the court were numerous and diverse, and among them, two factions had formed over where the capital should be—a division that had persisted for over half a century. The Western Capital faction naturally had many supporters and formidable strength, but the Eastern Capital faction was equally impressive and deeply entrenched. After all, they were the ones who had ruled the empire in the Great Han's early days. Liu Wenji dared not underestimate this, and offering some reassurance was quite necessary.

As for the choice of capital, Kaifeng might have a thousand virtues, but a single flaw was enough to make the emperor abandon it unless necessary. Kaifeng was a flat, open plain with no natural defenses—it lacked the "strategic advantage" that a capital most ought to possess.

Moreover, with the passage of peaceful times, Kaifeng had completely become a city of peace, a great metropolis of a flourishing age. From a military standpoint, apart from the imperial army, patrol inspectors, and constables stationed to guard its safety and public order, Kaifeng had no military security to speak of.

Furthermore, the Yellow River and Bian River basins were plagued by periodic floods. Even though the court had invested enormous human, financial, and material resources in taming the two rivers and building dikes, limited by the era's technology, it could only do its best. The Yellow River menace remained a sword hanging over the heads of officials and commoners in the Central Plains and the two river regions, and due to the terrain, Kaifeng faced an even greater threat than Luoyang. In the former case, the dike breach at Huazhou had caused heavy losses to officials and people alike, and in Liu Wenji's plans, he intended to personally inspect the area this time to comfort the people.

Liu Wenji's southern tour began in the autumn of the second year of Jianlong. With the consolidation of imperial power and the stabilization of the political situation, the Great Han Empire had once again entered a highly prosperous golden period of development.

Many signs of flourishing were visible to the naked eye, and some could even be supported with data. For example, the empire's total tax revenue for the first year of Jianlong, converted into copper coinage, amounted to 91.5 million strings—and who knew in which future year it might, like the population, break the hundred-million mark.

Of this tax revenue of over ninety million strings, gold, silver, and copper coinage already accounted for more than half, while various grains and silk fabrics in kind remained important tax vehicles. As the proportion of coinage increased, it even provoked concern among many conservative officials—after all, compared to gold, silver, and copper coins, tangible grain and silk were more reassuring to the people. At the same time, official granaries and charity granaries across the regions all needed replenishing, and the court's administrative demand for goods in kind remained very high.

Meanwhile, the proportion of commercial tax was also rising further. Aside from the urban market taxes that formed the bulk, tariff revenues from river, sea, and land ports had increased markedly. The five major customs alone brought in as much as eight million strings that year—of course, this was built on the foundation of increasingly flourishing overseas trade, as the fruits of decades of overseas colonization and development by the Liu clan's vassal states and the great nobles were beginning to truly pay off.

By the Jianlong era, the Great Han's foreign trade, apart from traditional trading partners like Goryeo and Japan, was primarily conducted with the Liu clan's vassal states surrounding the empire. Of course, trade with India and the Arab regions continued, but its scale was steadily shrinking—especially the latter.

The reasons were manifold. The intense conflict between Han civilization and Islamic civilization was a very important factor. Even though "desperate struggle on land, enthusiastic trade at sea" was indeed happening, political, religious, and cultural restrictions

were also very real.

On the other hand, the vassal states in the South Seas that controlled the east-west shipping routes had in fact formed a barrier in the empire's trade with the West. While they did not prevent Western merchants and ships from trading in the empire's own territory, a large proportion of Arab merchant ships completed their transactions in the South Seas, obtained the goods they needed, and then immediately sailed home...

It must be mentioned that due to the frequent wars in the Arab regions, compounded by the barrier of Islamic civilization, trade between the Han and Europeans was severely affected. From this period onward, both regions began to conceive ideas of exploring new sea routes and new trade paths.

In the barbarically expanding South Seas, some nobles and merchants even proposed sending troops to land in Arabia, coordinating with the three kingdoms of Anxi, to destroy the Abbasid Empire, topple the Islamic world, and thoroughly open up the trade routes—this, they argued, would be more conducive to marketing the Great Han's silk, porcelain, tea, and cotton cloth to the world...

Of course, as of now, this was merely one voice—a greedy expansionist desire ignited by the South Seas colonization movement. Translating it into action would face many practical obstacles and conditions. However, some maritime merchants from the "Southern Liang State" in the Southern Gold Continent (the line of Liang Xiao, Prince of Liang, who, having no heirs in his lifetime, was succeeded by a son of Liu Ai, Prince of Lu) were already organizing fleets, planning to continue exploring southward along the African continent.

Although many problems still existed throughout the empire, on the whole it presented an aura of "flourishing prosperity," just as in the days of Emperor Taizong's reign. After entering the second year of Jianlong, some in the court were already proclaiming a "Jianlong Flourishing Age"—the first to say so being the Pacification Commissioner Wang Zeng.

But Liu Wenji dared not openly acknowledge or readily accept this. A flourishing age was not so easily forged—at least, the difficulties and resistance encountered in rectifying state governance made Liu Wenji dare not be the slightest bit complacent.

Moreover, having personally experienced the entire Yongxi era, Liu Wenji knew all too well what the political climate and popular conditions of the Taizong period were like. Compared to the Yongxi court, his Jianlong court still had a long way to go.

To say nothing of other matters, the excellent governance style of the Taizong period had yet to be revived and upheld. Take anti-corruption in officialdom: the rules remained the same ones inherited from Taizong, and strong support was given to supervisory and enforcement agencies, yet the tide of corruption remained unbroken, rising and falling in waves.

The corrupt officials of the realm seemed to be playing guerrilla warfare with Liu Wenji—before being caught red-handed, they were all loyal ministers and good officials; once exposed, they were all cesspools of filth. Some did not even bother to put on a pretense, practically telling Liu Wenji outright: being an official, fine; being incorruptible, no.

As for frugality, it was the same. Liu Wenji drastically cut palace expenditures in the Purple Micro City, compressed the scale of palace women and eunuchs that had been expanded during the Kangzong period, and abolished all manner of luxury playthings...

The emperor lived an "ordinary" life within the palace, but the powerful and noble outside the palace mostly remained as extravagant and competitive as ever, completely lacking the awareness of the Taizong period. In the final analysis, they still lacked the most sincere respect for the current Son of Heaven—especially those families of meritorious veterans and old nobles. "We let you be emperor, so what—can you still dictate how everyone eats, drinks, and relieves themselves?"

It was only after Liu Wenji dealt with Zhu Xing, the Imperial Son-in-law of Princess Pingyang, that those people finally restrained themselves somewhat. Princess Pingyang, Liu Fei, was Emperor Taizong's legitimate daughter. Her husband, Imperial Son-in-law Zhu Xing, had been exiled by Liu Wenji to the Northern Circuit of the Yan Mountains for ten years in the first year of Jianlong for extravagant excess, chaotic household management, and violating regulations and breaking the law.

This was clearly a warning example, but what troubled Liu Wenji was that after this incident, rumors circulated that the emperor was using this to continuously strike at Empress Dowager Murong. By the Jianlong era, Empress Dowager Murong, who essentially lived in seclusion at Ciming Hall, was utterly alone, and the Murong clan in court was largely sidelined. Many old nobles felt pity for her. And the emperor would not even spare his own sister—Princess Pingyang, Empress Dowager Murong's only remaining kin—so what talk was there of benevolence, virtue, filial piety, and righteousness?

Thus, while the empire's conditions were steadily improving and national development continued to move in a positive direction, the various pressures and worries facing Emperor Liu Wenji were also accumulating. Liu Wenji's choice to go on tour in the second year of Jianlong was not only to observe political conditions and inspect the results of rectification, but also carried a desire to get away and clear his mind.

Still following the same formula—drawing lessons from Kangzong and emulating the legacy of Taizong—the tour was kept on a very small scale. The entire field headquarters, all personnel combined, numbered fewer than three thousand, most of whom were imperial army guards accompanying the imperial carriage. The remaining

personnel, apart from a small number of palace eunuchs, were all capable officials and competent clerks drawn from the various central ministries and offices. As for the chancellors, Wang Qinruo and Ding Wei accompanied the tour.

Ding Wei, then serving as Chief Censor, had been rapidly promoted to the capital and appointed chancellor, taking the post of Chief Censor, after the Finance Commissioner Xiang Minzhong retired due to illness that year, causing major changes in the Hall of State Affairs personnel. After a round of political maneuvering, Ding Wei, then Administration Commissioner of Hunan, was swiftly transferred to the capital.

As for the choice of the southeast as the tour's destination, it was understandable—that was the empire's rapidly developing economic heartland and key tax region. Most importantly, during Liu Wenji's years before his rise, he had spent a long time in Shanghai and Jinling. For him personally, it held special emotional significance; it was where he had accumulated political capital, carried great meaning, and had something of a "returning home in glory" flavor to it.