Chapter 904

When the carrier pigeon landed on the crossbar of the coop in the backyard of the Governor's Office, the sky was just brightening. The sound of ox cart wheels on the Chang'an road outside the courtyard wall had not yet begun. When the night-duty personal guard untied the bamboo tube from the pigeon's leg and sent it into the main hall, Chen Yan was already sitting behind the desk, holding a bowl of freshly brewed hot tea without drinking it; the steam on the surface of the tea drifted into a white line in the morning light.

When Zhang Wenqian entered from the side door, he was also clutching a bamboo tube; the two bamboo tubes arrived almost one after the other.

"Zhuguo, two pieces of goods: one is Wurigeng's secret report from the Royal Court, and one is Gao Jiong's battle damage report."

Chen Yan placed the tea bowl on the corner of the desk, reached out to take the two bamboo tubes, peeled open the wax seals with his fingernails, first pulled out Wurigeng's silk strip to unfold and read it once, put it down, then pulled out Gao Jiong's silk piece to read it once. The handwriting on the silk piece was written rapidly, the strokes sloppy, but the key numbers were all correct.

"Read it."

Zhang Wenqian leaned toward the desk, picked up Gao Jiong's silk piece, and read it out against the light filtering in from the morning.

"One thousand elite Royal Court troops completely annihilated. Lead general Tuoba Lie killed in action. Deputy general Tie Muzhen killed in action. Qifu Tribe suffered over fourteen hundred casualties out of three thousand deployed. Weaponry more than half depleted and unusable. Qifugu himself severely wounded in the left shoulder but not fatal."

Chen Yan leaned back in his chair, his two hands crossed in front of him. The arc at the corner of his mouth was so faint it was almost invisible. There was nothing on his face that could be called joy, only the calmness of an accountant after finishing this year's cash flow.

"What about Wurigeng's?"

Zhang Wenqian changed to another silk strip.

"Wen Geti vomited blood in the main tent. The Right Wise King brought the leaders of various tribes to discuss matters. Batu's request to mobilize five thousand elite cavalry for an eastern expedition was blocked by the Right Wise King on the grounds of the western Turks and the emptiness of the Royal Court. Wen Geti has not yet made a decision to send troops, but the desk in the tent was smashed by him."

Chen Yan's fingers tapped on the desk surface, the rhythm not fast, as if counting something.

"Wen Geti vomited blood."

Zhang Wenqian put the silk strip back on the desk surface.

"Subordinate feels that the war has reached this point, and Wen Geti has been forced into a corner. If he doesn't fight Qifugu, it is equivalent to admitting that the Royal Court's authority has been trampled. If he fights, he cannot pull out the troops."

Chen Yan stood up from his chair, walked to the sand table, and drew a circle around those marked points in the eastern part of the grassland.

"He will fight."

Zhang Wenqian followed and stood at the side of the sand table.

"Zhuguo is certain?"

Chen Yan turned to look at him, his voice carrying a coldness that seeped from the seams of his bones.

"A person who can smash a table after vomiting blood shows he has not been beaten into submission, only pressed down. As soon as the pressing hand loosens, he will pounce to bite. The bickering between Batu and the Right Wise King cannot drag on for too long. Wen Geti will sooner or later personally lead men to clean up Qifugu."

His fingers withdrew from the sand table, he walked behind the desk to sit down, picked up the tea bowl and took a sip, pausing when the rim touched his lips.

"But no matter when he fights, during this gap, this Duke must eat the benefits clean."

Zhang Wenqian's spine straightened by two points, waiting for him to continue.

Chen Yan placed the tea bowl steadily, fished a thin booklet from a secret drawer, opened it, and picked up a brush to dip in ink.

"First thing: from today, the purchase price of horses at the trade fair will be lowered by thirty percent."

Zhang Wenqian's eyebrows jumped up a fraction.

"Zhuguo, if we lower it by thirty percent, those Rouran herdsmen merchants coming to sell horses will be afraid to make a scene."

Chen Yan's brush tip wrote two lines on the paper without stopping.

"Make a scene about what? The eastern grassland has become such a mess that the heads of those small and medium tribes are wishing they could dump all the livestock in their hands for grain and run away. Even if you don't lower the price, they have to sell. If you lower the price, they have to sell even more, because they have no second buyer."

Zhang Wenqian clicked his tongue.

"Zhuguo's meaning is, taking advantage of the eastern chaos where horses are urgently needing to be offloaded..."

"War on the grassland burns money. Whoever fights consumes livestock and grain. After the fight, regardless of who wins or loses, those small tribes in the surrounding area that were affected will run to the trade fair like crazy, taking horses, cattle, and sheep to exchange for life-saving millet and salt."

Chen Yan placed the brush on the inkstone, the ink not yet dry.

"At this time, the only buyer is this Duke. Whatever price per horse this Duke says, that is the price. They have no choice other than selling to this Duke."

Zhang Wenqian looked at the words on the booklet once, his lips moving.

"Zhuguo, originally a warhorse was bought for fifteen guan; lowering it by thirty percent is just over ten guan. This price..."

Chen Yan picked up the tea bowl and took another sip.

"Ten guan is already too much. You go tell the people at the Trade Fair Supervision Office: ten guan for good quality, eight guan for average quality, and five guan for thin or sick horses in a bundle. Take it or leave it; if they don't sell, they can starve to death on the grassland."

Zhang Wenqian closed the booklet and tucked it under his arm, nodding.

"Subordinate understands. I will have the Trade Fair Supervision Office adjust the prices today."

"Wait, there is a second thing."

Chen Yan stood up from his chair, walked to the fire basin, and stretched out his hands to roast them above the flames.

"Mark out a piece of land on the perimeter of the Trade Fair Supervision Office, build a shed, and hang a sign. Call it the Resettlement Camp."

Zhang Wenqian's eyeballs rolled once.

"Resettle whom?"

Chen Yan turned to look at him, his fingertips turning red from the heat.

"Once war breaks out, the herdsmen of those small tribes in the eastern grassland that have been scattered will run south following the merchant caravans. After arriving near the trade fair, they have no livestock to sell, only their strength and skills. Women can milk, tan leather, and weave felt; men can herd, ride horses, and do blacksmithing."

He withdrew his hands from above the fire basin and rubbed his fingers inside his cuffs.

"These people are the best labor. This Duke wants to take them all in while they have nowhere else to turn."

Zhang Wenqian followed his train of thought, the excitement in his voice leaking out in fragments.

"Zhuguo is going to exchange millet for people?"

"Three bowls of thin porridge per person per day, providing food and housing, signing a ten-year labor contract. Men are to be organized into the military colony and pastures, women into the weaving workshops and leather-tanning workshops. Those who know blacksmithing are to be picked out separately and sent to the sub-workshops under the Weaponry Bureau."

Chen Yan walked back behind the desk to sit down, tapping his fingers on the desk surface twice.

"Three bowls of thin porridge in exchange for ten years of a strong laborer's life—you calculate if this deal is worth it."

Zhang Wenqian's mouth pulled to both sides, the thing in that smile exactly the same as when an accountant counts silver at the end of the year.

"Worth it. It's damn worth it. Subordinate will go handle it."

"Wait."

Chen Yan's voice pulled back the foot Zhang Wenqian had already stepped out.

"You set the rules for the Resettlement Camp. First, no beating or bullying allowed. The porridge that should be given must not be one bowl less or one drop thinner; make them feel that Great Zhou is good. Second, have the clerks of the Governor's Office write the terms of the labor contract clearly, translate a copy into Rouran script, and post it at the camp gate. This Duke does not deceive them; this Duke is buying people's hearts at a clearly marked price."

Zhang Wenqian nodded.

"Zhuguo, rest assured. Subordinate will handle the matter cleanly and beautifully."

Chen Yan waved his hand, and Zhang Wenqian turned and went out.

He was the only one left in the main hall. The charcoal in the fire basin occasionally popped with a faint sound. He picked up the tea bowl and slowly finished the remaining tea, his gaze landing on those two silk strips on the desk.

Tuoba Lie is dead, Qifugu won but hurt his sinews and bones, and Wen Geti is so angry he vomited blood but hasn't moved yet.

All three parties are bleeding, while he sits behind a desk thousands of miles away, not shedding a drop of blood, not moving a single soldier, only needing to change the price tags at the trade fair to eat the dividends of the war clean.

He folded the two silk strips and tucked them into the secret drawer, fished out a thicker account book from beneath the drawer and opened it. It was densely recorded with the cash flow and income of the trade fair over the past half year, with the source and destination marked next to every number.

Chen Yan picked up a brush and wrote a line on the blank space of the latest page.

"After the Chaotic Rock Valley battle, the southward flow of horses from the east is expected to increase threefold. Within three months, the trade fair can collect no less than two thousand warhorses, with a converted market value of over thirty thousand guan, while actual expenditure will not exceed ten thousand guan."

He closed the account book, put it back in the secret drawer, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes for a moment.

The trade fair ten days later was exactly as he had predicted.

The herdsmen of those small and medium tribes scattered in the eastern grassland surged toward the Xiazhou trade fair like a flood. Some drove horses, some drove cattle, and some brought nothing but their wives and children as they ran south. Overnight, hundreds of tents appeared on the grassland on the perimeter of the trade fair, all of them refugees with nowhere to turn.

The price tags of the Trade Fair Supervision Office had already been changed. The warhorse purchase price had been lowered from fifteen guan to three tiers of ten, eight, and five guan. When the signs were first hung, a few herdsman merchants did shout that it was too low and wanted to find the person in charge to argue. The small official of the Trade Fair Supervision Office pointed expressionlessly at the small line of words below the sign.

"Take it or leave it. If you walk three hundred miles north outside the trade fair gate, Wen Geti's men are waiting to collect you."

The people shouting closed their mouths.

Starting from the third day, the line of people coming to sell horses stretched half a mile outside the trade fair gate. Zhang Wenqian sat personally in the account room of the Trade Fair Supervision Office's back hall, the abacus clicking and clacking. Every time a horse entered, he made a mark in the account book. In half a day, the account book had already been flipped three pages.

The Resettlement Camp side was even livelier. The line at the entrance of the porridge shed wound from inside the shed to beneath that old elm tree outside the camp. One after another, the people receiving porridge pressed their fingerprints on the labor contracts. Some didn't even look at what was written on the contract, only staring at the three ladles of steaming millet porridge in the bowl, the light in their eyes like dogs that hadn't eaten for three days seeing a bone.

Zhang Wenqian was busy for ten full days, so busy that he worked continuously and almost didn't close his eyes. On the evening of the eleventh day, he rushed into the main hall of the Governor's Office holding a stack of account books and rosters, the smile on his face hanging from the moment he entered the door until he reached the desk.

"Zhuguo, subordinate is here to report the accounts."

Chen Yan was marking something in front of the sand table and turned to look at him.

"Speak."

Zhang Wenqian spread the account book on the desk and flipped to the latest page, his fingers pointing at the numbers above, the excitement in his voice impossible to suppress.

"As of today, the trade fair has purchased a total of thirteen hundred warhorses at an average price of nine point two guan, with a total expenditure of less than twelve thousand guan. Converted at the normal market price, this batch of horses is worth at least twenty thousand guan."

"What about the Resettlement Camp?"

Zhang Wenqian flipped to another roster.

"The total number of Rouran refugees registered to enter the camp is twenty-four hundred, among whom eight hundred and sixty are able-bodied men who can work, thirty-seven are craftsmen who know blacksmithing, and one hundred and ninety are female workers who know leather tanning. The rest have been organized into the military colony and pastures."

Chen Yan placed the charcoal pencil on the frame of the sand table, turned, and walked to the side of the desk, his fingers sweeping over those numbers on the roster.

"The thirty-seven who know blacksmithing are all to be sent to the sub-workshops of the Weaponry Bureau. Let them work with their skills; let them teach what should be taught. This Duke does not keep idlers, nor does he treat people unfairly."

Zhang Wenqian closed the roster, his lips moving as if he still wanted to say something.

"Zhuguo, at this rate, in another month the stock of warhorses at the trade fair will exceed three thousand. Should we expand the Xiazhou horse farm?"

Chen Yan sat back in his chair and picked up the tea bowl to sip.

"Expand it. Mark out another two thousand acres of pasture in Yinzhou to raise horses, and have Gu Yuci send people over to keep an eye on it."

Zhang Wenqian responded, and just as he was about to turn and leave, a rush of footsteps came from outside the main hall, the frequency of boots hitting the stone slabs more than twice as fast as usual.

The door curtain was lifted from the outside, and a messenger knelt outside the threshold, holding a letter sealed with fire wax in his hand.

"Zhuguo, urgent report from the South Valley, sent by Governor Ye via fast horse."

Chen Yan lifted his hand from the tea bowl, took the letter, peeled open the fire wax, and pulled out the paper note inside. He read it once, and when he saw the middle, his fingers paused on the paper surface.

Zhang Wenqian leaned over to look at Chen Yan's complexion. The composure originally on that face had faded by two points, and the skin between his brows squeezed into a vertical line.

"Zhuguo, what is it?"

Chen Yan placed the paper note on the desk surface and tapped his fingers on the position of those few lines of words on the paper.

"The remnants of the Turks have moved."

Zhang Wenqian's smile was wiped clean from his face.

Chen Yan's fingers lifted from the paper note, his voice dropping by half a degree.

"The scouts from Ye Zhuxi's side report that in the past five days, the remnants of the Turks have assembled a cavalry force of fifteen hundred men, coming out from the three valleys in the northwest corner, and are moving eastward. The direction is the weak segment of Wen Geti's warning line."

Zhang Wenqian pursed his lips.

"Isn't the grain and grass of the Turkic remnants being supported by Ashina? Last time Zhuguo sent five hundred piculs of millet over, logically speaking, they should be stable."

Chen Yan leaned back in his chair, his two hands crossed in front of him.

"Ashina can no longer keep them stable. The voices among the Turkic remnants that wanted to surrender to Wen Geti were suppressed by the news of Tuoba Lie's entire army being wiped out. They smelled the scent of blood, felt that the Royal Court was weak, and felt that they could gain benefits by taking a bite while Wen Geti was overwhelmed."

Zhang Wenqian stood in front of the desk for two breaths.

"Zhuguo, if the Turkic remnants really strike eastward, the three thousand warning troops on Wen Geti's western side will have to be withdrawn to block them, which is equivalent to stripping off Wen Geti's last layer of pants."

Chen Yan stood up from his chair, walked to the sand table, and pressed on those chess pieces representing the Turkic remnants.

"Not just stripping pants. With the Turks pressing from the west and Qifugu eyeing covetously from the east, Wen Geti is caught in the middle and suffering from both sides."

His fingers withdrew from the sand table, and he turned to look at Zhang Wenqian.

"What will a person caught in the middle and suffering from both sides do?"

Zhang Wenqian's brows locked together.

Chen Yan answered himself.

"He will concentrate all his anger in one direction and destroy the one he hates the most first."

Zhang Wenqian's Adam's apple rolled once.

"Zhuguo means Wen Geti will..."

Chen Yan's palm hovered over the black chess piece representing the Qifu Tribe on the sand table.

"Wen Geti will personally lead an expedition."