Chapter 806: A Strong and Flourishing Great Zhou: Have More Children, Plant More Trees

East of Jinling's city walls, in a courtyard that was not small but hardly luxurious.

Song Qiqiu watched the few servants and maids packing up their belongings, let out a soft sigh, and again and again found his gaze drifting toward the direction of the Jiankang Palace in the distance.

His heir Song Mojie, seeing his father Song Qiqiu constantly peering off, could not help standing on tiptoe to look as well.

It had been over half a year since the Sage took in the Southern Tang, and among the many Southern Tang officials, great and small, most had been restored to office and put to use — yet Song Qiqiu alone, the very emblem of Southern Tang officialdom, had received not only no appointment, but not even a summons.

Song Qiqiu had already despaired, but ten-odd days ago the Sage summoned Zha Wenhui, and that rekindled a few sparks of hope in his heart.

But the greater the expectation, the greater the disappointment. This bitter waiting — even for an old hand like Song Qiqiu, who had ridden the political stage for decades — left his heart churning like a storm-tossed sea.

"Erlang, I still have a box of jewelry the Sage bestowed in former days. Let Jie-ge'er take it to the pawnshop later — we can hold out a while longer." Lady Wei gently held Song Qiqiu's arm and spoke softly.

The Song household was in fact already in considerable straits, because by this time Song Qiqiu, owing to his temperament, had once again lost out in a political struggle.

And afterward, to maintain his prestige and appearances, he had not hesitated to start scattering money lavishly, gathering so-called men of talent and learning around him to create the impression that he, Song Qiqiu, was still the opinion leader of the Southern Tang realm.

Such an effort to build up his reputation was of course enormously expensive, and the income from Song Qiqiu's fief in Qingyang County on Mount Jiuhua had long since been drained dry.

These days his whole household of thirty-odd people had been forcing themselves to hold on in Jinling Prefecture, and nearly every valuable object in the house that could be sold had already been sold.

What Song Qiqiu's family did not know, however, was that the unfamiliar merchants to whom they had quietly sent servants to pawn their treasures and curios outside the city these past days, all for the sake of saving face, were every last one of them disguised agents of the Brocade Guard.

The Emperor had long since gotten a crystal-clear picture of the Song family's finances, and was simply waiting for him to sink into utter despair.

Inside the gate, Song Qiqiu slowly shook his head, turned back to look at Lady Wei, whose looks had long since faded, and said with a bitter smile, "Enough, enough! Keep this bit of gold and silver. We shall return to Qingyang County and till the soil as farmers. It is only that from now on, we shall have to live a hard life."

Song Qiqiu had been able to collect the land tax of Qingyang County — a special honor Li Jing had granted him as the greatest meritorious official of the Southern Tang's founding. Under the Zhang Zhou, such a privilege would naturally no longer be given.

Now Song Qiqiu had spent his entire family fortune, leaving only a hundred-odd mu of thin fields back in his old home. Saying he would go back to a hard life was not mere talk — he truly would have to go back and endure hardship.

Song Qiqiu was sixty-three this year, but to look at his face, he seemed more vigorous than many who had just turned fifty. To be a monopolizing, power-grasping treacherous minister, one did need a sound constitution.

But after he finished speaking, it was as if he had aged ten years in an instant, reverting to the doddering old age befitting his years.

His heir Song Mojie was even more filled with despair in his eyes. The difference between the son of a first- or second-rank high official and the heir of a country old farmer — he understood it all too well.

"Is this the residence of Song Zisong of Qingyang?" Just as Song Qiqiu was heaving a long sigh, a voice of inquiry suddenly came from outside the gate.

The moment Song Qiqiu and his heir Song Mojie heard it, they flashed from inside the gate to outside. Song Qiqiu, who had just entered his sixties not a quarter of an hour ago, instantly flashed back to the look of a man around fifty.

A young eunuch in blue robes, two rows of golden-armored guards, and before the ten-odd tall horses, there was also a peach-blossom horse — graceful in form but too slow to gallop — of the sort wealthy households used for riding about town.

Song Qiqiu's eyes grew hot. This was the standard setup for the Sage summoning a former Southern Tang official for an audience!

"Are you Song Qiqiu, former Secretariat Director of the Southern Tang?" The eunuch's tone was not particularly respectful, but Song Qiqiu took no offense. He cupped his hands and said, "This old man is indeed Song Qiqiu."

The eunuch nodded. "The Sage has issued a decree, commanding Song Qiqiu to enter the palace at once for an audience."

Beside Song Qiqiu, Song Mojie, who had long been craning his neck in hope, went weak at the knees and slid to the ground. Song Qiqiu, true to one who had weathered storms, was by now completely composed.

"May this eunuch wait a moment. Allow your servant to bathe and change his clothes."

In the Jiankang Palace, before Song Qiqiu had even gotten a clear look at Sage Zhang in the distance, his heart gave a sudden lurch.

Because he saw Zhou Zong's daughter, Zhou Xian, kneeling beside the Emperor's desk, grinding ink for him.

Song Qiqiu and Zhou Zong had been political enemies for more than twenty years.

When Zhang Zhao saw Song Qiqiu arrive, he still rose and walked forward a few steps, making a symbolic gesture of welcome. Given the man's age, a small courtesy was still warranted.

"Your servant Song Qiqiu pays his respects to the Sage!" Song Qiqiu bent to the ground and performed a grand obeisance.

Zhang Zhao also gave a slight bow of cupped hands in return. The palace attendants immediately brought over a brocade stool for Song Qiqiu.

This was not special treatment. Before the Song, chief ministers and ministers over sixty were all given brocade stools to sit on during audiences.

Later, by the time of Old Chongba, one could only stand while answering. By the time of my Great Qing, it went a step further — everyone knelt.

"Old Sir Song, please sit. We have a difficult question today that We wish to put to you." Zhang Zhao had too much to do and did not wish to probe further, so he simply came straight to the point.

As he spoke, he waved his hand, and Zhou Xian and the attendants waiting on him withdrew.

"Your servant, though dull-witted, will speak all he knows." Song Qiqiu was also taken aback for a moment before he adjusted to Zhang Zhao's pace.

"We have heard that in former years, Silla, Baekje, and other states, though ten thousand li away, still came to pay tribute to the Great Dynasty, and when the Central Plains fell into chaos, they went to Wuyue instead.

But now the Wang clan has established Goryeo, and for forty years they have never once come to pay tribute. They show considerable disloyalty. We intend to chastise them. What does Old Sir Song think?"

Song Qiqiu was truly startled. What kind of pace was this? Although both the Sui and Tang had launched distant expeditions against Goguryeo, those had come only after periods of rest and recuperation!

After hesitating for a good while, Song Qiqiu still decided to offer a word of caution. It was hard to say — perhaps the Emperor was testing him with this very question.

"Sage, Goryeo lies far off east of the sea. For the Great Dynasty, not yet unified, to launch an expedition ten thousand li away — your servant believes it would be better to..."

At this point Song Qiqiu suddenly stopped short, because a matter abruptly came to mind. At this year's Lantern Festival, the Prince of Liaoyang Commandery, Murong Xinzhang, far off in Liaodong, had sent eastern pearls and Liaoning ginseng. The Sage, in his delight, had granted Murong Xinzhang the surname Zhang and bestowed the name Zhang Yue.

This Prince of Liaoyang Commandery had rendered great service, had been the Sage's foster son for over ten years, and his mother was an Imperial Consort — granting the surname was perfectly normal. But granting a given name was not so normal, especially a single character with the metal radical.

Because there was a custom at this time: after a prince ascended the throne, he would change his name to a single character.

For example, Li Jing was originally called Li Jingtong, and after inheriting the throne he changed his name to Li Jing. The third Great King of Qian Yue was originally called Qian Hongzuo, and upon ascending he dropped the "Hong" and went directly by Qian Zuo.

Moreover, the Zhang Zhou was of the Metal Virtue. Murong Xinzhang had been granted a single character with the metal radical — and the character yue, as in the battle-axe of command, was one of immense symbolic significance. In an instant, Song Qiqiu's mind burst wide open.

"Does the Sage intend for the Prince of Liaoyang Commandery to take the throne of Goryeo?"

Clap, clap, clap! Zhang Zhao clapped his hands in satisfaction. Truly, this was the most important chief strategist of Li Bian, the man Xu Wen had once feared so much he wanted to kill him before it was too late. He had hit upon a place ordinary men would never think of.

"The land of Liaodong has always been a thorn in the heart of the Great Dynasty, from the Han through the Sui and Tang. The Taizong and Gaozong emperors of the former dynasty emptied the state treasuries before they could destroy them. Now the Central Kingdom has been in chaos for only a hundred-odd years, and already another Wang clan has appeared.

We do not care whether you call them Goguryeo or Goryeo, nor whether they are the same people. What We cannot tolerate is this eastern barbarian taking root and sprouting in the old lands of the Han Four Commanderies."

Unlike later impressions of Goryeo — later, because of the deference of the Joseon dynasty of the Yi clan, many people came to think that this small peninsula could not possibly pose any threat to the Central Plains.

And indeed that was so, because the reason Goguryeo was so hard to deal with was that it was built on the rich lands of Liaodong, and had the great marshes of western Liao as a natural barrier to rely on.

The bitter, cold land of the peninsula, by contrast, was all mountains, could not produce more than a few grains of food, and had no convenient water transport. It truly could not stir up any great waves.

But thanks to Goguryeo, people at this time still regarded any regime in the Liaodong region with the utmost vigilance.

Seeing that the Emperor before him had already made up his mind, Song Qiqiu said no more. As a former official of Jiangnan, how would he dare to interject on such a momentous matter?

After thinking for a moment, Song Qiqiu asked, "Your servant ventures a bold guess. In summoning your servant specifically, does the Sage wish, as the Gaozong Emperor of the great dynasty did when he chastised Goguryeo, to build great ships in the two provinces north and south of the Yangtze and send a naval force straight at the old lands of Silla?"

"Correct!" Zhang Zhao nodded in acknowledgment. "We have asked Old Sir Song here precisely to ask whether the grain and revenue of the old Southern Tang lands can support the court in building warships and training a minimum of fifty thousand naval troops to cross east."

Song Qiqiu nodded. "It can! The Sage must already know that in the Southern Tang realm, the hidden households, the fugitive households, and the populations concealed by the great clans of each region number no fewer than three million. If these people can be registered into households, and Wuyue added to them, it will be enough to support it."

But this matter is extremely difficult. In years past, King Wensu wanted to do this very thing, yet in the end he lacked the resolve to carry it through. If the Sage wishes to correct this matter, your servant is willing to risk his life to see it done."

In the end, Zhang Zhao still did not allow Li Bian into the ancestral temple of the Tang emperors, because that would involve a great many troublesome procedures. And even if Zhang Zhao had permitted it, Li Jing and his two brothers would not have dared — the implications were simply too great.

So finally, after the three brothers submitted a memorial, Zhang Zhao issued an edict abolishing Li Bian's imperial title of Liezu, and changed his posthumous title to Wensu, calling him King Wensu of Wu.

Zhang Zhao naturally knew this past history of Song Qiqiu's, and he also knew what Song Qiqiu was after in volunteering for the task.

Perhaps he really could help Zhang Zhao push this matter through, but it would certainly be mixed with a great deal of retaliation against his political enemies, which did not meet Zhang Zhao's requirements.

So I, Sage Zhang, shook my head. "Such mundane affairs — We have others arranged to handle them. What We truly wish to consult Old Man Song about is the tax collection in the former territories of Southern Tang and Wuyue."

A trace of disappointment flickered through Song Qiqiu's eyes. Had the man before him been Li Bian, he might well have immediately jumped up and thrown a tantrum, but before Zhang Zhao, he had no such standing, and so did not dare.

In the old Southern Tang, Song Qiqiu had designed a very special land tax collection system. It abolished the old practice of collecting land tax only in full-value cash — a harsh levy easily exploited by officials and merchants — and replaced it with collection in cloth, silk, grain, and the like.

Moreover, when the common people paid their land tax, the grain and cloth they handed over were priced at three or four times the market rate.

That is to say, suppose the fields under your name owed two thousand wen in tax, and your household happened to have silk cloth, with a market price of five hundred wen per bolt — then you would need to pay four bolts of silk.

But when the court collected it, it would convert your silk at four times its value. In other words, one bolt of your household's silk, in the land tax, was worth two thousand wen, so you only needed to hand over one bolt.

This was an extremely clever move. It looked as though the state was collecting less tax, but considering that this was an age of chaos, and Jiangnan had only recently seen an influx of population, there was a vast amount of land that could be opened up for farming.

The urgent task was not how much tax to collect, but to expand the foundation of governance — so this policy was extremely fitting.

Song Qiqiu's move had brought enormous benefits to Southern Tang more than a decade earlier. This land tax policy made Southern Tang stand alone among all the states under heaven, drawing in the common people of the Later Tang in the Central Plains, Nanping in the west, Ma Chu, and other states. The people's enthusiasm for opening up wasteland multiplied, and even the prosperity of Jiangnan in the Song dynasty was built on the solid foundation laid by this policy.

The histories record that after Southern Tang implemented this policy, all its uncultivated land was opened up, no idle fields remained in the wilds, mulberry and paper-mulberry trees covered the countryside, and the people's households grew prosperous — in one stroke laying the foundation for a rich and powerful southeastern state. Afterwards, in the reigns of Li Jing and Li Yu, they still benefited from the wealth this policy had brought.

But now, since Li Jing on one hand stubbornly continued war preparations, and on the other had to pay tribute to Zhang Zhao, this policy had already been abolished.

Since Song Qiqiu had considerable achievements in economic matters, Zhang Zhao naturally wanted to discuss these aspects with him — this was also for Pei Yuan's convenience.

Because this Sage Zhang's white glove, how to put it — in intrigue, political struggle, even commanding troops and holding a region, he was capable enough, but in handling the economy he was slightly less adept. Song Qiqiu could be used to fill that gap.

Song Qiqiu talked with Zhang Zhao for half the day, and gradually came to grasp the Emperor's "thread" — he understood that the Emperor wanted him to build up the economy of the entire Three Rivers region of Jiangnan, Jiangxi, and Jiangbei, and along the way raise an astronomical amount of wealth to supply the Prince of Liaoyang, Murong Xinzhang, in his campaign against Goryeo and even Japan.

Because from the current situation, the Andong Province was sparsely populated, and it would be very difficult to supply an army of tens of thousands marching south to attack Goryeo.

At the same time, the northern part of Goryeo was full of high mountains and steep ridges. Attacking from the north alone would be quite difficult. If one could strike from the sea in a flanking move and first seize the southern part of Goryeo, it would be much easier.

So Song Qiqiu cupped his hands, and in response to Zhang Zhao's question of whether the former tax policy — the one where the people paid tax at one-for-four value — could be reinstated, he said:

"If it is a short-term plan, the Sage should not restore this policy, because the land in Southern Tang that can be opened up — apart from south of Hongzhou — has already been mostly cultivated.

Now that it was the King of Wu who abolished this benevolent policy, the resentment all rests with the Li family. The Sage can simply go with the flow.

But if it is for the long term, this land tax policy should be carried out for another twenty or thirty years, because the age of chaos has not yet fully ended, and the population has not recovered to the levels of the great dynasties.

If you choose to continue this policy, not only will the court immediately win the hearts of the Three Rivers, it will also quickly restore the people's strength."

Zhang Zhao nodded, thinking it over repeatedly. Song Qiqiu was right — both approaches had their own advantages.

If not restored, resources could be gathered in a short time for the campaign against Goryeo.

If restored, he could quickly win the people's hearts, gain the popular foundation for striking at the powerful families, and rapidly restore the population over the next twenty or thirty years.

"A thousand years ago, Emperor Zhaolie of the Shu Han said: 'To accomplish great things, one must take the people as the foundation.' If I extort the common people for the sake of attacking Goryeo, that is unrighteous. Better to plan for the long term."

Song Qiqiu prostrated himself and praised him greatly. He could truly see it now — this Emperor before him lacked some of the craft of political maneuvering, but he was indeed a benevolent ruler.

Hah! If Pei Yuan and Feng Dao were here, they would certainly sneer at Song Qiqiu's assessment.

It was not that Zhang Zhao was not benevolent, but that his benevolence was selective. If at this moment extorting the people would bring more benefit than harm, he would definitely do it.

Zhang Zhao chose the long view because in his grand plan of "Xia rulers, Yi subjects," the most important thing was population. Implementing this policy could restore the maximum population in the shortest time. Compared to that grand plan, attacking the Wang clan's Goryeo was something that could be pushed back a little.

Seeing that Zhang Zhao had made his choice, Song Qiqiu continued: "Since the Sage has his eyes on the long term, and takes restoring the population as the first priority, your servant suggests not copying the policy of King Wensu of Wu's era wholesale, but instead carrying it out according to household size.

For example, if a household has borne only one child, then no price increase; if two, then increase the valuation by one fold; if three, increase by two folds; if five, increase by three folds; if seven, increase by four folds; if nine or more, increase by five folds. If carried out for thirty years, the Three Rivers Province alone could add several million to its population."

"Old Man Song is truly a great talent!" Zhang Zhao rubbed his hands together excitedly. "But still, you give too little.

We have decided: if a couple bears five children, increase the valuation by four folds; if seven, increase by five folds; if nine or more, completely exempt from tax!

This shall be carried out for thirty years as a trial. We will not only implement this policy in the Three Rivers region, but extend it to the whole country."

But as Zhang Zhao spoke, he grew somewhat melancholy, because his idea of moving some of the people of Shuofang, Ningxia, Hedong, and Hanzhong Prefecture to the Central Plains was being executed very poorly.

The first four were because of ecological problems, and the local fields had extremely low yields, making farming simply not worthwhile.

The last was because the population was too dense, with large numbers of people struggling to survive on the mountain slopes, while good fields in the Central Plains at Shangqiu, Xuchang, and other places had no one to farm them.

Song Qiqiu's eyes rolled, and an idea came to him. "Your servant believes the Sage can simultaneously implement the new land tax policy in the other provinces, setting tax amounts by three grades of land — upper, middle, and lower — according to soil fertility, while Shuofang, Ningxia, and Hedong continue to collect the old tax."

The land tax at this time had a very strange feature: no matter what kind of field it was, the court simply collected one dou of grain per field in land tax.

This thing caused the tax burden on the people of various regions to be extremely uneven.

If your family was unlucky and all your fields were low-grade, yielding only one shi per mu, then that amounted to a high tax of ten percent.

But if another family's fields could produce two or three shi, then the land tax was equivalent to the one-in-thirty tax that had existed only in the Former Han.

The most direct result was that powerful and wealthy households monopolized water resources, draft oxen, and other assets, paying one-in-thirty tax, while commoners paid one-in-ten — extremely unfavorable to population growth and the opening of wasteland.

Moreover, this was clearly a one-size-fits-all measure created by the lazy military men of the Five Dynasties who could not grasp the actual conditions of the country. It was later even inherited by the Northern Song, becoming one of the important factors that made land equalization impossible for the Northern Song.

However, this one-size-fits-all land tax law was not without its benefits. For example, right now it could be used to drive out those people in Ningxia and Hedong who had cut down the only remaining vegetation on the mountain slopes to plant low-grade fields, pushing them down to the plains where farming was easier.

"Old Man Song's suggestion is excellent!" This was Zhang Zhao's second exclamation of praise. He planned to summon the Chief Ministers, the Ministry of Revenue, and the Transport Commission and other offices to discuss implementation after he returned.

As for Song Qiqiu, Zhang Zhao awarded him three hundred thousand wen on the spot — that is, three hundred strings of cash — and then promised that within days he would appoint him as Provincial Administration Commissioner of Jiangnan Province, and Grand Transport Commissioner of Jiangnan and Jiangbei.

Song Qiqiu was also very satisfied, and after profuse thanks, he departed.

After Song Qiqiu left, Zhang Zhao tapped his fingers on the table. Zhou Xian, who had just left, and the guards all returned.

Zhou Xian pouted and looked at Zhang Zhao with some displeasure. "Sage, that Song Qiqiu is a great treacherous minister, who loves nothing more than slandering and secretly harming others. How can the Sage put him in an important position?"

Zhang Zhao said nothing, but turned his head and looked at Zhou Xian with cold eyes.

A little girl of thirteen or fourteen could hardly withstand the imposing presence of a mounted conqueror like Zhang Zhao. Within seconds, she knelt down in a panic and said no more.

"Hold out your hand!" Zhang Zhao barked, then picked up a small bamboo rod.

The elder Zhou Xian tremblingly extended her fair little hand, and immediately the bamboo rod struck it hard. The pain made her cry out "Yah!" and tears welled up in her eyes.

"Speaking of politics in the inner palace is the exclusive privilege of the Empress, the Noble Consort, and the Worthy Consort. You are young and inexperienced in the world. If you dare speak of such things again, it will not be one strike, but five."

I, Sage Zhang, don't really care about the harem meddling in politics — that's something you couldn't stop even if you wanted to, and it isn't necessarily a bad thing.

But if everyone in the harem had their say, things would fall into chaos. So here with Zhang Zhao, only three people may speak on political matters: the empress Lady Shijiu, Lady Cao Sanniang, and the little aunt.

Zhou Xian the Elder, her palms just caned and her tears not yet dry, began tidying Zhang Zhao's documents again in a pitiful, wronged manner.

These days, unlike what outsiders imagined, the historical Elder Empress Zhou was not by Zhang Zhao's side as some beauty attending her lord — she was undergoing a series of special training.

Chemistry, geography, mathematics, geometry — whatever Zhang Zhao could still barely remember but was about to forget, he crammed wholesale into Zhou Xian and had her record it all in writing.

I, Sage Zhang, stroked my chin and watched that busy little figure, thoroughly savoring the pleasure of raising someone.

Besides, could he not know what sort of character Song Qiqiu was?

His ability was certainly not bad, but his lust for power was extreme, and he loved forming cliques for private gain. Those who attached themselves to him he shielded with all his might; those who did not submit he struck down by every means available.

He sounded, indeed, like a great treacherous minister who would do enormous damage to the state.

But — but wait! Song Qiqiu's future immediate superior was Pei Yuan, that Jia Xu– and Cheng Yu–style hidden schemer. In the reputation of a treacherous minister and the actual ability to stab people in the back, Song Qiqiu could not catch up to Pei Yuan even at full gallop, and the gap in their positions was far too great.

Where Song Qiqiu could be used and where he could not, Pei Yuan would certainly know perfectly well.

When someone refused to submit to the court's new policies, then naturally it would be time for Song Qiqiu and his faction to step in.

And in the final analysis, even if Song Qiqiu recruited his own faction and played tricks at every link in the chain, there was nothing to fear, because they were scholars without military power. In any age, in the end, it still comes down to whoever holds the guns doing the talking.

If Song Qiqiu knew his place and did not go too far, then perhaps he could enjoy a peaceful old age.

If he did not know his place, then once he was fattened up, they could slaughter him and eat the meat. That way I, Sage Zhang, would neither have personally fleeced the common people nor failed to gain a great blood bag — simply perfect.

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