Chapter 996: Opening Supply Routes, Turmoil in Quanzhou

The matter of Su and Yang was, for Emperor Liu as he now stood, little more than a minor episode. In the early days of the Han, the two chancellors who had once shared power and commanded the winds and rains of the Great Han court were now merely two aged and failing men in need of sympathy, awaiting pardon from the Son of Heaven in a gesture of compassion.

There was no denying that Liu Chengyou had indeed entertained the thought of pardoning the two ministers—for the Emperor Liu of the present, it would take no more than a word. And it could be anticipated that the assembled nobles and officials would heap praise upon the Emperor's "magnanimity."

Of course, in the short term, Liu Chengyou had no intention of recalling the two elders to court—the time was not yet ripe. But there was no need to wait long; once the south was pacified, they could be invited to partake in the victory banquet of unification.

A scene had already formed in Liu Chengyou's mind: within the grand and magnificent Chongyuan Hall, meritorious ministers filled the seats, ritual music resounded in unison, and he, Emperor Liu, stood before that old relic Yang Bin, holding a cup in one hand while pointing with the other at the unified realm, calmly asking him: "How do you think I, the Emperor, have done?"

"Luzhou has memorialized, mobilizing labor to cut through the Taihang road—what do you think?" In Chongzheng Hall, Liu Chengyou was conversing with the Crown Prince, Liu Yang, as was his custom.

"Opening up supply routes and strengthening the ties and exchange between Hedong and Hebei also follows Father's policy of opening roads. I believe it can be approved!" After a moment's thought, Liu Yang replied.

Over the years, the Great Han court, led by Liu Chengyou, had placed particular emphasis on improving road transportation—not only beneficial for military and fiscal transport, but also promoting economic development and prosperity.

Because the nation's political, economic, and military centers were in Kaifeng, in the Yellow River–Bian River basin, and compounded by flood concerns, the bulk of the court's manpower and resources were in fact invested in waterway improvements and river dredging.

However, land routes could not be entirely neglected either—it was just that direct court leadership was comparatively rare; most was left to local governments to undertake, while the central authorities played an approval and oversight role. Though somewhat piecemeal, the accumulation over the years had still yielded no small results.

Take the Taihang road, for example: running from north to south, over more than a decade, there had been fifty-three road-building projects of varying scale—and that was only what the Ministry of Works had on record. Those minor efforts that mobilized little manpower and resources were even more numerous.

And among the Taihang Mountains that cut across east and west, those mountain paths were like blood vessels, opened up and dredged, becoming lifelines connecting Hedong and Hebei. By the thirteenth year of Qianyou, the court had already begun using gunpowder for mountain excavation.

All along, the Directorate for Weapons had been putting effort into the research and improvement of gunpowder, but the Emperor could only provide guiding opinions—or rather, commands—telling them to find ways to enhance gunpowder's performance and power. As for the actual research itself, he could not help in the slightest; the Emperor's greatest function was to spur them on with administrative orders and encourage them with rank and emolument.

In previous wars, the Han army had not used gunpowder weapons extensively, and the reason was simple: the technology was not yet mature, and the explosive power was insufficient. If one only utilized its burning capability, it was inferior to fire-oil bombs, which were far more powerful and far more practical.

After more than a decade of unremitting effort and dedicated research, results had finally emerged—it could now be used for mountain excavation and mining. As far as blasting mountains went, though the power was still not great, compared to manual labor it was indeed a revolutionary advance.

Returning to the topic of road-building: this time Luzhou's memorial proposed a major undertaking. The planned conscription of labor alone numbered over ten thousand people, intending to continue widening and flattening the existing mountain roads to fully connect east and west. At the same time, because of the limited use of gunpowder, they also requested gunpowder support from the court, and hoped that Xiangzhou on the eastern foothills could coordinate by launching works from the eastern side—after all, this involved two prefectures.

It was precisely because the project was so large that the matter had been brought before Liu Chengyou. The Prefect of Luzhou, named Quan Shixiong, was a former Shu official who, having performed well during the pacification of Shu and rendered no small merit, had enjoyed decent official fortune after relocating his entire family to the Central Plains, and had now risen to govern a prefecture.

"Since you think it feasible, you may handle the reply and arrangements for this matter!" Looking at the Crown Prince, Liu Chengyou instructed.

"Yes!"

At this, Liu Yang, beyond his surprise, could not help but feel the weight of pressure. He could already sense that his imperial father was deliberately delegating some authority to him, but for some reason, the pressure in his heart outweighed the joy. His concern lay in the fact that if he handled things poorly, he would have difficulty accounting for it. As for seizing the opportunity to grasp power—Liu Yang had neither the inclination nor the audacity.

"Also, remember to warn the Xiangzhou government offices to be sure to show compassion for the people, to use funds and grain to the full. Whenever the state undertakes a great work, it is also the easiest time to stir popular resentment—this point must be kept firmly in mind!" Liu Chengyou added: "Especially Xiangzhou Prefecture—their manpower is already insufficient, so they need even greater care!"

For the most part, Liu Chengyou was quite protective of the people's labor. Through years of war and public works, when it was time to use it, he used it on a grand scale, but afterward, Liu Chengyou would always choose to pause and let the soldiers and people of the Great Han catch their breath. Just like the recuperation after the northern expedition—in governance, there was always a measure, a bottom line in his heart that he would never lightly cross. Emperor Liu knew all too well the consequences of abusing conscripted labor.

As for Xiangzhou, it had for a time been renamed Zhangde Prefecture, derived from the Zhangde Army, before being changed back. Moreover, half of the counties and population originally belonging to Cizhou had been placed under Xiangzhou's jurisdiction. The reason lay in that massacre at Anyang long ago—the blow to its population had been too severe. At that time, most of the scholars and commoners within Xiangzhou had gathered in Anyang to take refuge, only to be wiped out in one fell swoop—righteous troops plus civilians, some one hundred thousand killed by the Khitan.

Liu Chengyou still remembered the grievous losses of that time vividly—after all, he had watched from across the river, witnessing the tragedy unfold with his own eyes. In the more than ten years since, Xiangzhou had never achieved proper recovery and development, for to develop, one first needed people.

Later, after Lü Yin took office, under his governance, politics, economy, and people's livelihoods all achieved no small results, yet the aftereffects of the demographic catastrophe could still not be shaken off. It was not until the court dismantled Cizhou that a portion of the population was replenished.

Liu Yang could hardly empathize with such sentiments of Liu Chengyou's. Seeing him waiting respectfully, Liu Chengyou could not help but wave his hand and say: "You may go!"

"Your son takes his leave!" Liu Yang felt a sense of relief, bowed, and slowly withdrew.

Watching Liu Yang's retreating figure, Liu Chengyou could not help but sink into thought. His Crown Prince, on the whole, was quite satisfactory—not a genius, but diligent in his studies, and with experience accompanying the imperial entourage on tours. But now, Liu Chengyou felt he was still somewhat lacking in practical training. After all, since becoming Crown Prince, he had spent most of his time in the deep palace; ruling by memorials alone was not what Liu Chengyou wished for.

What method could he devise to continue training the Crown Prince? Give him a county to govern? That was a trite, overused approach!

While Liu Chengyou was deliberating, a palace eunuch reported that Li Chongju, Commissioner of the Wude Office, sought an audience. Li Chongju had clearly come with important intelligence, and it immediately made Liu Chengyou knit his brows: "Your Majesty, news has come from the south—Quanzhou is in internal turmoil!"

"What happened?" Liu Chengyou's expression tightened slightly.

At present, all he wanted was for the realm to be at peace, so that the Great Han could smoothly carry out its southern pacification campaign and achieve the great enterprise of unifying the realm. Yet all sorts of affairs kept coming to prick at his nerves—even the Pinghai Army, which did not much obstruct the grand scheme.

Li Chongju did not mince words, delivering the intelligence concisely: "Your Majesty, on the fifth day of this month, Chen Hongjin, a yabing officer of Quanzhou, conspired with his confidants to falsely accuse Military Governor Liu Shaoci of plotting to defect to Lady Li, imprisoned him, and instead elevated Deputy Commissioner Zhang Hansi as Acting Military Governor."

"Never expected a Chen Hongjin to slip through the cracks!" Quickly calming himself from the news, Liu Chengyou's mouth twitched slightly.

"If I am not mistaken, Quanzhou's memorial concerning this upheaval should reach the Eastern Capital before long!" Liu Chengyou remarked.

"It should be so—no matter how Quanzhou changes, they would never dare harbor disloyalty toward the court!" Li Chongju responded.

"Tell me about Chen Hongjin's background!" After considering for a while, Liu Chengyou asked.

Li Chongju: "Chen Hongjin, courtesy name Jichuan, a native of Quanzhou. Poor in his youth, fond of reading, studied the art of war, harbored great ambitions, possessed considerable courage, and was renowned throughout his hometown. He joined the army when he came of age, and was promoted to junior officer on merit. After the fall of the Min kingdom, the Liu brothers seized the opportunity to carve out Quanzhou and Zhangzhou. This man followed Liu Congxiao, rendering vigorous assistance, and was greatly appreciated by Liu Congxiao, who relied on him heavily..."

After hearing Li Chongju's introduction, Liu Chengyou could not help but sigh: "By this account, this Chen Hongjin is quite a figure! Seizing the opportunity, rising with the tide—the bearing of a warlord!"

"However!" Liu Chengyou's tone could not help but turn cold: "He has betrayed old favors, deceived a young master, and defied the court. A man like this—how should I treat him!"

From beginning to end, his focus was solely on that Chen Hongjin; as for Zhang Hansi, who had been pushed onto the stage, he was clearly nothing but a puppet.