Chapter 962: Born in Adversity

In Chongyuan Hall, colorful ribbons fluttered, lanterns filled the palace, shining all the brighter against the dark night. Musicians sat in place, playing elegant court music that drifted melodiously, enchanting the heart; singing girls raised their voices, dancers displayed their grace, drawing all eyes.

Generous rewards, abundant food and drink, and exquisite song and dance together consoled the meritorious ministers of the Great Han. This lavish imperial banquet also proclaimed that the Great Han dynasty seemed to have formally entered a new phase—the frugality and simplicity of the past seemed nowhere to be seen.

As with previous imperial banquets, Liu Chengyou let his ministers enjoy themselves to the fullest, indulging in pleasure without restraint. Of course, by the twelfth year of Qianyou, no one truly dared to overstep. Even those with heavy hearts could at most drink deeply of the imperial brew, numbing themselves with alcohol to vent their inner bitterness.

Thus, the atmosphere throughout the great hall remained lively, comfortable, and relaxed, as if no one carried any burden. Such was the scene of a flourishing dynasty, more or less.

The ones making the biggest commotion were Zhang Qiong and Dang Jin—the two were famous "heroes" in the army. Zhang Qiong was open and forthright, fierce in battle, fearless of death; Dang Jin was no less so, though beneath his rough exterior lay a keen and alert mind.

The two had no quarrel between them—they were simply competing in drinking, bowl after bowl, drawing cheers and applause from the surrounding ministers. Zhao Kuangyin stood nearby, voluntarily acting as referee, his resolute face full of enthusiasm.

Liu Chengyou, meanwhile, was building rapport with the various vassal powers, especially the King of Wuyue, Qian Hongchu, Li Yiyin of the Dingnan Army, Liu Congxiao of the Pinghai Army, and Gao Shaoji of Yanzhou. They had all been invited to participate in this victory banquet, to once again experience the prosperity and strength of the Great Han. At the same time, "fallen" rulers like Gao Baorong, Meng Chang, and Zhou Baoquan were also present.

Zhou Baoquan was now just a seven-year-old child. Because his father Zhou Xingfeng had stubbornly resisted with all his might, his treatment in the Eastern Capital was not as generous as Gao Baorong's. He had been arranged to live in the imperial gardens, tending horses and planting mulberries for the emperor, with a term of ten years. He had a good mother, Lady Yan, who taught him by word and example, cultivating his studies, and a loyal servant who never left his side—thanks to them, despite his youth, he had already developed a certain bearing. Sitting quietly at his seat, he drew a measure of Liu Chengyou's attention.

Seeing Zhang Qiong and Dang Jin competing in drink, Liu Chengyou smiled as well. Dang Jin had finally fulfilled his long-cherished wish—through his performance in the great northern campaign, he had been elevated from Earl to a titled Marquis, satisfying his desire for a marquisate.

As for Zhang Qiong, watching him drink so recklessly, Liu Chengyou could not help but frown. This man had always been a battle-hardened warrior, never changing; with every campaign he bore new wounds, and had even been gravely wounded twice, on the verge of death. He had carved out his current fame and position through formidable personal martial skill, but his body was already overtaxed, and he still did not cherish or restrain himself. At this rate, he would break easily.

Another eye-catching sight was a figure who had wandered into the musicians' ranks—Duke of Pu, Gao Huaide. There he sat cross-legged on the floor, holding a jade flute, playing with complete absorption, his expression utterly entranced. Beautiful notes issued from the flute, harmonizing with the court music.

Though Gao Huaide was a military man who cared little for reading, he possessed genuine talent in music and could even compose his own pieces. Beside him, the brothers Liu Xi and Liu Fang were waving their arms and stamping their feet, humming tunes and dancing. Liu Xi's face was flushed, and he held a wine jug in his hand, from which liquor occasionally splashed out...

The painter Huang Quan had also been permitted to attend the banquet. He was not qualified by rank, but he bore a mission—to observe the scene in the hall in detail and prepare to depict this imperial banquet. When he had been in Shu, he had served as a court painter, his style leaning toward the ornate and aristocratic, skilled in many subjects, including figure painting.

Scene after scene entered his eyes, yet Liu Chengyou's mood inexplicably grew heavy. Such scenes were certainly intoxicating and hard to leave, and the nation's prosperity and thriving vigor seemed all reflected within them.

But at the same time, he could clearly sense a shift—namely, toward ostentation and pleasure-seeking. At the founding of the dynasty, this very ethos had existed, but under Liu Chengyou's personal example and forceful suppression, it had been held in check. Yet as the realm grew peaceful and goods from all directions gathered in the Eastern Capital, this ethos showed signs of resurgence—something Liu Chengyou viewed with displeasure.

Prosperity did not mean extravagance. He had no intention of prohibiting or suppressing his ministers from pursuing a fine and comfortable life—otherwise, what had everyone been striving for all these years? Even he himself could not rise above such desires, so how could he restrain his subordinates?

It was simply that the realm was not yet unified, the historical mission not yet complete—far from the time for enjoyment. Moreover, even after unifying the realm, could one truly relax? What kind of lives the common people of the Great Han led—Liu Chengyou was well aware.

Public order and security only meant the common folk were no longer in a state of utter misery and living in constant fear, but their difficult living conditions had not been fundamentally improved. Taxes had been reduced several times, yet they were still not low; military service and corvée labor had never ceased.

In fact, over these more than ten years of Liu Chengyou's rule, how had he managed to wage continuous external wars, level the various states, and gradually form a trend toward unification? At root, it relied on squeezing the common people.

It was only because the Great Han was governed by these wise and capable rulers and ministers, always maintaining a bottom line, and step by step reducing burdens and relieving pressure. Even so, during the wars of unification, the burden on the Great Han's common people was very heavy. Take this northern campaign—the damage borne would not fully recover in just two or three years.

On the other hand, to support so many nobles, officials, and troops of the court, where did the money and grain come from? Ultimately, it fell upon the common people. Had it not been for the successive external wars, with plunder replenishing the coffers, the Great Han's expansion would likely have encountered further complications.

And of all the territories seized, only Huainan, Jingnan, and Chuanshu showed a "profit"; the other regions were still operating at a "loss."

The more he thought, the more his enthusiasm waned as he looked upon the splendid court scene filling the hall. His worries were not groundless—on the road back to the capital, he had carefully observed the conditions of the people. Unlike his previous inspections, this time he sensed among the lower classes that earnest desire for peace and security, just as in the days when wars had raged frequently.

The people were beginning to loathe war; the subjects yearned for rest and recuperation. Yet the pace of unification could not be halted. Balancing these demands was something Liu Chengyou needed to manage carefully.

"Your Majesty!" A call brought Liu Chengyou back to his senses.

It was Liu Congxiao, Military Governor of the Pinghai Army, who had risen, holding a cup in both hands, and approached the imperial presence to toast Liu Chengyou. Liu Chengyou took a sip of wine as a gesture, looked at him, and asked with a smile: "Quan and Zhang are famed southern regions of wealth—how do they compare to the Eastern Capital?"

Liu Congxiao was no longer young. Hearing this, he immediately shook his head and said: "Like the light of a cold star compared to the bright moon—there is no comparison!"

Liu Congxiao spoke with frank sincerity, and Liu Chengyou was amused—his question had indeed been ill-posed. Seeing Liu Chengyou in good spirits, Liu Congxiao continued: "Your Majesty, in coming to court this time, there is a matter I have weighed several times but not yet had the chance to raise. Taking this opportunity, I humbly beg to report it!"

A solemn expression appeared on his aged face. Liu Chengyou was slightly surprised, but after a moment's thought, he raised his wine cup and said with a light laugh: "Does it concern drinking? If it has nothing to do with that, then I do not intend to hear it today!"

The Emperor's words left Liu Congxiao momentarily stunned—what kind of reaction was this? But noting the Son of Heaven's serious expression, he could only comply and simply speak over wine.

Observing the situation in the hall, Liu Chengyou beckoned to the Crown Prince, Liu Yang, and instructed him: "You are the Crown Prince—you should go toast the meritorious ministers of the Great Han!"

"Yes!" Liu Yang bowed respectfully and descended the jade steps. The previous time the grand banquet for all ministers was held in Chongyuan Hall, Liu Xu had been with him; now, he was alone.

That night's imperial banquet ended with both host and guests thoroughly satisfied, but the Emperor's inner worries and displeasure were known to no one. The next day, Liu Chengyou ordered the chief palace eunuch Sun Yanxi, who had been in charge of this lavish imperial banquet, to oversee the repair of the Zhaolie Temple.