Chapter 867: A Good Son Has Great Wisdom

On the Kanto Plain, along the Kinu River, as the last section of the levee was closed, thunderous cheers erupted.

On both banks of the river, everyone was dressed in coarse hemp clothing, but from the jade tablets at their waists and the banners planted along the riverbank, you could easily tell that many of them were no ordinary people.

Gathered along both banks of the Kinu River were Murong Xinzhang, Great King of Yan, who ruled the three provinces of Chaori, Chaoxian, and Penglai; Zhao Kuangyin, Lord of Sendai; Wang Tingyi, son of Wang Jing, Lord of Etchu; Hai Xianzhong, Count of Tosa; and others.

As for the other lords, marquises, inspection commissioners, commanders of the great garrison troops, chiliarchs, and the like — they were too numerous to count.

Of course, the most eye-catching sight was a great silver-white banner bearing a golden sun and moon, signifying the Emperor's personal presence.

Beneath the great banner, a still-charming middle-aged woman stood with imposing dignity, and even Murong Xinzhang, Great King of Yan, had to attend her carefully at her side.

This person was, of course, Cao Sanniang, courtesy name Yannai, who had spent nearly a year traveling from the divine capital Luoyang to Dongning in Chaori.

The Kanto Plain of Chaori Province is a rainy region, with annual precipitation of at least 1,500 millimeters, so floods break out every year during the rainy season.

The Tone River, the Kinu River, and these other waterways wind and twist, and their flood-discharge capacity is very limited, often causing floodwaters to rampage unchecked and form vast marshlands downstream.

At the same time, the coastal areas of the Kanto Plain were built up from silt carried by the Tone and Kinu Rivers, and their overall formation is no more than a thousand years old, so they are still unstable.

This caused the later Edo Bay area to be extremely low-lying; at high tide many places were submerged in seawater, only emerging at low tide. It looked like a boundless great plain, but in reality it could not be farmed at all.

What a headache! Compared with these two great problems, the remaining issues such as soil acidification were all minor.

This is why, for a very long period, the Kanto Plain — despite its abundant rainfall, convenient water transport, and mild climate — could not raise its grain output or population.

Historically, the Wa country never had the manpower, resources, or technology to solve this problem, until Tokugawa Ieyasu was thrown into Kanto by Toyotomi Hideyoshi.

What was that like? It was like the feeling of Xiang Yu, after entering Xianyang, enfeoffing Liu Bang to Hanzhong — purely and simply an insult.

But the old turtle was truly no ordinary man. He stopped his retainers from going to fight Toyotomi Hideyoshi to the death, and in just a few years brought the Kanto Plain under excellent governance, accumulating a vast material foundation for unifying Japan.

After ascending to the position of Sei-i Taishogun, he spent a further fifty years thoroughly building the Kanto Plain into the wealthiest land in Japan.

And Murong Xinzhang at this moment was far luckier than Tokugawa Ieyasu, because behind him stood a vast nation and a loving adoptive father to support him.

Of course, from so far away, Zhang Zhao's own pockets were empty too, so he could not provide much in the way of material support.

But on one point — men talented in controlling such floods — he had absolutely more than enough.

Zhang Zhao directly packed off Chen Chengzhao, Right Vice Minister of Works and Commissioner of Waterways, a water-conservancy expert, together with his entire team, to the Kanto Plain.

After a detailed survey of the specific conditions in the Kanto region, Chen Chengzhao adopted an approach similar to Li Bing's management of Dujiangyan.

That is: straighten the winding river channels by digging, excavate canals for diversion, and along the coast employ strategies such as building levees step by step, piling up earth to raise the terrain, and digging coastal canals to divert rising tidal seawater, so as to prevent seawater from flowing back inland.

What drew such cheers from the crowd now was that the management of the Kinu River had been completely finished.

As long as the Kinu River no longer "ran wild," the Kanto Plain would gain at least another seven or eight million mu of paddy fields.

Although the soil-quality problem still existed, given the Kanto Plain's rainfall and dense network of waterways, that was a minor issue.

They say reading ten thousand books is not as good as traveling ten thousand li, and Lady Cao Sanniang was now intoxicated by the beautiful scenery of these ten thousand li of rivers and mountains.

She had also finally come to fully believe that Zhang Zhao had not deceived her — Sage Zhang had truly chosen a rich and prosperous land for her son Xinchang.

However, Lady Cao Sanniang was still not satisfied. A mother never thinks her son has too many good things, and with a slight smile she looked at Murong Xinzhang and said:

"Xinchang, my son, the matter of the Iwami Silver Mine can now be reported upward."

Having said this, Lady Cao Sanniang summoned Chen Chengzhao to her. As the Emperor's friend through adversity and a noble consort of the Zhang Zhou court, Lady Cao Sanniang had a stronger ability than Murong Xinzhang to direct people who came from the court.

Take Chen Chengzhao, for example. As the foremost water-conservancy expert of Zhang Zhou, his ideal was to hang the title of Participant in Determining Government Affairs and become one of the Chief Ministers, then actually serve as Right Vice Director of the Department of State Affairs and Minister of Works, and after death receive the honorific titles of Secretariat Director, Grand Tutor, and Grand Guardian, and obtain a fine posthumous name.

In any of these matters, no matter how exalted Murong Xinzhang's status as a foreign Great King, he could neither help nor obstruct.

Therefore, toward Murong Xinzhang, Chen Chengzhao would be respectful, but he would not give one hundred percent of his effort, sparing no toil, to slave away for him.

Only Lady Cao Sanniang, relying on the influence of the Cao clan, her relationship with the Emperor, and her status as noble consort, could truly influence Chen Chengzhao in these respects.

This was in fact the most important reason Lady Cao Sanniang insisted on coming to Chaori to stay for a few years — she had come to help Murong Xinzhang drive the court officials.

After Chen Chengzhao came over, he pointed directly at the great Tone River on the map and said to Murong Xinzhang: "Great King, your servant has spent two years traveling and surveying, and has now determined the next management plan.

Great King, please look here. Between the Tone River and the Kinu River there is only one small hill and a gorge some ten-odd li long. If we can cut through this place and let the waters of the Tone River flow through the Kinu River channel eastward into the sea, then we can completely eliminate the flood threat the Tone River poses to the downstream coastal areas.

When that time comes, in this bay area we can open up at least ten million mu of fine farmland and nourish a million people. This is the foundation of the Yan kingdom for ten thousand generations!"

The management plan Chen Chengzhao described was precisely the great masterstroke by which the Tokugawa shogunate historically governed the Kanto Plain.

By excavating an artificial canal to let the Tone River borrow the Kinu River's channel and flow eastward into the Pacific Ocean, the downstream region that had originally suffered badly from Tone River floods was transformed into a thousand-li expanse of fertile fields with a dense water network.

The price paid was merely the submersion of some insignificant woodland in the hills downstream of the Kinu River.

Murong Xinzhang had been racking his brains over how to solve the Tone River flooding, and now, seeing Chen Chengzhao's design, he suddenly saw the light. Excitedly he seized Chen Chengzhao's hands and was about to bow down.

"Lord Chen, this plan is of divine workmanship — you deserve a bow from me!"

Chen Chengzhao would never dare let Murong Xinzhang bow to him, so he hurriedly bowed down first himself, repeatedly saying he was unworthy of such honor.

Murong Xinzhang then smoothly stood up, but said with genuine sincerity: "I know Lord Chen's ambition lies in the central government, to bring peace to all the people, and therefore I dare not detain you with a petty office in this remote border kingdom.

I only ask that Lord Chen leave one branch of his descendants here in Kanto. I am willing to reward them with three thousand households and the rank of lord."

Chen Chengzhao was deeply moved. He knew that this Kanto land would in the future be directly governed by the King of Yan, and originally no fief was to be granted to any vassal at all.

But today, to reward him, His Highness the King of Yan was willing to make an exception and enfeoff a lord here — this was truly a very generous gift.

Immediately, Chen Chengzhao summoned his third son, who had been following him all along, and ordered him to perform the grand kowtow ceremony before Murong Xinzhang.

"Great King, my third son is intelligent. Though he lacks the heroic valor to fight on the battlefield, he has always loved mountains, rivers, and terrain, and is well versed in geomancy and geography. Let him remain in Kanto to serve the Great King with the utmost loyalty."

Murong Xinzhang was greatly satisfied. The reason he was willing to enfeoff a lord on this Kanto Plain was, first, to make Chen Chengzhao devote himself even more wholeheartedly.

Second, this kind of water-conservancy project would certainly require maintenance. Both sons Chen Chengzhao had brought this time were proficient in this, and leaving one here as a vassal would make future maintenance and expansion easier.

Of course, Murong Xinzhang also understood why his mother, Lady Cao Sanniang, wanted him to report the matter of the Iwami Silver Mine upward.

This project sounded easy, but carrying it out required a great deal of manpower and resources; the excavation of that ten-odd-kilometer hill alone would not be easy.

With the Yan kingdom's current resources, handling it alone would still be somewhat difficult.

Moreover, a great project of this scale, mobilizing over a hundred thousand people, could very likely cause domestic instability. After all, Murong Xinzhang had not ruled for many years, and not every one of the Wa people below was fully submissive.

But if the Iwami Silver Mine matter were reported upward now, given how desperately short of silver the court currently was, the court would most likely dispatch officials and troops.

The Central Plains people coming to seek their fortune would number at least in the tens of thousands, which objectively would have a decent deterrent effect.

And with such a large silver mine discovered, if the Yan domain, as the landowner, used its share of the silver mine as collateral, it could obtain a loan of at least three or four hundred thousand strings of cash.

No! If you're still willing to convert these loans into goods purchased from the Central Plains, you can get six or seven hundred thousand strings of cash.

That way, the money to build the canal from the Tonegawa to the Kinu River would be secured.

At the same time, anyone who can cross the seas to pan for gold is certainly no innocent — even if they look honest, underneath they're the honest-but-ruthless type.

With these tens of thousands of men in Iwami Prefecture, if the Wa people make any move, one call from Murong Xinzhang and an army of tens of thousands of fierce soldiers can be raised — enough to crush any rebellion.

"Mother, why don't you write to the court instead? After all, what matters most to the court isn't how much silver the Iwami Silver Mine can produce."

Murong Xinzhang's implication was that the taxes from the Iwami Silver Mine would certainly be shared between the court and the Yan Principality. Although the court would absolutely take the lion's share, whatever more could be won for the Yan Principality should still be fought for.

Because, as he said, although the Iwami Silver Mine has large reserves, gunpowder explosive power and road transport are still lacking in two respects.

Therefore, the foreseeable annual extraction volume is only around one and a half to two million strings.

For a court of the Great Zhou's size, even if it got all two million strings in a year, it would hardly matter.

So the most important use of the Iwami Silver Mine to the court is still its silver reserves of over a hundred million strings, which can provide ample backing and assurance for the court to issue silver notes and three-qian and five-qian coins.

At the same time, riding the momentum of the Iwami Silver Mine to vigorously promote the development of navigation, gunpowder, blasting, and other technologies, as well as fully pulling the two provinces of Chaori and Penglai into the Central Plains economic sphere — that is also what Sage Zhang values.

Indeed, before these two grand strategies that greatly advance both the nation and the people, a mere annual income of a million or so strings seems not so important after all.

But for Murong Xinzhang's Yan Principality, even an extra hundred thousand strings' worth of silver each year, once processed through various steps into silver ingots, would yield at least a hundred and fifty to two hundred thousand strings in profit — that is no small sum.

Lady Cao Sanniang looked at her son and said with a somewhat serious expression: "I will coordinate this for you, and can even increase your share by ten percent, but there are conditions.

If you only ask for a few tens of thousands more strings in tax revenue a year, that's not difficult — your father would certainly be willing to give it. But if you want more, then Penglai Island may have to be given up."

Penglai Island was the island of Kyushu in historical Japan. If it were given up, the Penglai Province under Murong Xinzhang's control would be left with only Fangzhang Island (Shikoku). But Murong Xinzhang thought it over calmly and still nodded.

Seeing her son agree without much deliberation, Lady Cao Sanniang continued:

"Your fourth brother is already twelve this year, but the Sage is still in remarkably robust health. From spring to autumn, through scorching heat and bitter cold, your mother has never seen him suffer any illness. His body is truly like that of a god or Buddha.

For the court and for the realm, this is a good thing, but for your fourth brother it may not be — it means thirty or even forty years of bitter endurance!"

The fourth brother Cao Yannai spoke of was the fourth imperial son, Zhang Xianjing, who currently had no substantive position as crown prince but was being raised as one.

Murong Xinzhang sighed with deep empathy. He had actually thought before about whether he could change his surname to Zhang and then become a possible heir.

But the instant that thought arose, it was immediately shattered by another matter, and he never thought of it again.

That was the fact that he, Murong Xinzhang, and his adoptive father Sage Zhang were only seven years apart in age!

Looking at it now, suppressing that desire back then was the right decision. Never mind a mere seven-year gap — even his fourth brother Zhang Xianjing, twenty-one years younger, would very likely struggle to hold out until succession.

Murong Xinzhang asked in a low voice: "Is Penglai the retreat that Nineteenth Aunt chose for Fourth Brother?"

Lady Cao Sanniang nodded. "That's right. Yanxi has decided that if nothing changes by the time he turns twenty-five, she will petition the Sage to enfeoff Jing'er in Penglai."

"That's good!" Murong Xinzhang drew a deep breath. "Although the Wa country has been divided into two provinces, it is still very closed off internally. With me here, there certainly won't be any problems, but what later descendants will do is truly hard to predict.

If Fourth Brother can be enfeoffed in Penglai, it would be like opening a breach in the Wa country. Perhaps in later generations it could save the lives of the Murong clan's descendants."

Lady Cao Sanniang looked at Murong Xinzhang with gratification. "My son is indeed the good child the Sage saw in you. Seeing you so clear-headed, your mother is at ease."

Murong Xinzhang grinned. "Of course. Xinzhang was taught by Father himself, hand in hand.

To suffer a small personal loss yet bring benefit to the nation and the people, and along the way ward off disaster for future descendants — why not gladly do it?

When Mother returns, please also ask Father on my behalf: after I pass from this world, let Hutou take the surname Zhang.

From now on it should become a custom — among my descendants, the line that inherits the title of Prince of Joseon and Great King of Yan will all bear the surname Zhang, while the collateral branches of the clan will bear the surname Murong."

Lady Cao Sanniang nodded with tears in her eyes. Her greatest worry had, at this moment, finally dissolved completely.

Above the pitch-black sky, a bolt of lightning tore violently through heaven and earth.

A dazzling streak of electric light shot from the highest heavens down to the distant ocean surface, as if at the very edge of the world.

The white light that lingered long in the eye seemed to guide the faithful toward the far shore.

"You dog-fucked heavens! You dog-fucked heavens! All thunder and no rain, is that it? All thunder and no rain, is that it! Trying to thirst old me to death, are you!"

At the bow where the waves surged, a nearly naked brawny man threw his head back and roared at the sky.

His two thick, powerful legs seemed rooted to the deck — no matter how the ship pitched and rolled, he stood fixed and steady.

Cursing wasn't enough to vent his fury. The brawny man suddenly drew the long lance that had been thrust into the ship's rail, then pointed the ten-odd-jin weapon at the sky with one hand. Its several-foot-long blade glittered in the lightning's glow.

"You dog-fucked heavens! If you donkey-humping sky still won't rain, I'll poke a hole right through you!"

Helian Hailong was now as sun-darkened as his former partner Yan Kunlun. His lips had dried to a ghastly white like lead powder, covered with deep and shallow cracks like fissured scars.

He turned his head with all his remaining strength to look at the venerable Master Cixian, who was now breathing his last. His face showed a kind of neurotic madness born of extreme agony.

He stared at the master he had once revered most and chuckled lowly, his voice eerie, as if rising from the ocean floor.

"Master, Zhao Siwan has gone mad. He's going to poke the heavens in the arsehole, hehehehe!"

Splash! Someone was so frightened by that eerie laughter that they collapsed to their knees, their whole body trembling uncontrollably.

It was not Helian Hailong's laughter that frightened them, but the triangular eyes of Zhao Siwan — eyes that symbolized death — now fixed upon that person.

Everyone on this ship knew why this madman still had the strength to roar when they were all about to die: because he was eating people!

Eating people, in truth, was nothing rare. Of the eighty-eight people on this ship, thirty-nine had come with Zhao Siwan from the Beggars' Legion, and more or less all of them had eaten human flesh.

But the only one who could eat it and still remain so full of life was Zhao Siwan.

On this journey, because firewood was scarce, everyone had eaten raw food for at least half a month — from raw meat to raw fish hauled straight from the sea, everything was raw.

When thirsty, they drank fish blood mixed with water on the verge of turning foul. When hungry, they gnawed directly on live fish.

As they ate on, some lost teeth and their eyeballs bulged; some rotted all over until not a patch of good skin remained; some vomited and had diarrhea, burned with fever, lost consciousness, and died amid terror and convulsions.

Only Zhao Siwan was unaffected. He drank fish blood and ate raw fish more skillfully than a leopard cat.

And those underlings who, like him, chose the simplest way to solve the problem soon began inexplicably going mad one after another, some even jumping straight off the ship.

By now, of those who had chosen to be as "pragmatic" as Zhao Siwan, he alone remained.

At that very moment, as Zhao Siwan turned around, an even thicker bolt of lightning split the sky once more, followed by the tremendous roar of thunder resounding across the heavens.

Helian Hailong suddenly felt a gentle caress on his face. He snapped his eyes open and reached his hand toward the sky.

A moist sensation followed. Helian Hailong stuck out his tongue and licked the air — not bitter, not astringent, not salty. It wasn't splashed seawater. It was really raining.

"Rain! Rain!" All thirty-odd people aboard seemed to come alive in an instant, scrambling up from every corner of the ship.

Helian Hailong even saw many sailors he had long thought dead appear on the deck as well.

Everyone held the same posture — heads tilted back, mouths open to the sky, greedily sucking at the sparse raindrops like plants drinking in the moisture.

Suddenly, a great gust of wind came, as if someone had shoved the warship hard from behind. The ship, which had been following the Cangming current at an unhurried pace, shot eastward like an arrow.

With the wind came heavy rain, and even the withered, barely-breathing Master Cixian came back to life.

"What is that over there? What is that? It looks like mountains! It looks like mountains!" In the howling wind and driving rain, a sailor who had climbed the mast shrieked wildly.

Boom! Lightning lit the sky again. In an instant, far in the distance, range upon range of towering mountains and dark, rugged seaside cliffs appeared before everyone's eyes with startling clarity, as if they had just flown into view.

"We've arrived, we've arrived! Purvavideha! Purvavideha!" Helian Hailong howled, tears scattering in all directions with the rain.

Countless people rushed to the bow, then embraced one another, weeping and wailing.

Three and a half months — three and a half months, a full hundred days! They had finally arrived, finally found Purvavideha.

"The Supreme Great Compassion Dharma King knows my heart completely, knows my pain, knows my wounds, pities my many hardships, and points out all dharmas for me."

A resounding chant rang out, so loud it drowned out the crowd's cheers.

Helian Hailong turned to look. The one chanting the Great Compassion Dharma King's Heart Mantra was none other than Master Cixian, whom he had thought was on the verge of passing away.

But looking at him now, apart from his beard and hair nearly obscuring his features, Master Cixian showed not the slightest trace of a dying man.

On the contrary, his chanting was sonorous and vigorous, as if he were healthier than any of them. The beard and hair coiling around his entire head like a writhing dragon lent him an air of mysterious majesty.

Helian Hailong and the others could not have known that in India there was an ascetic hibernation art called yug, which allowed a person to breathe as faintly as a turtle and remain motionless, thereby greatly reducing consumption.

They only felt that it was indeed the Supreme Heaven guiding them — when Purvavideha appeared before their eyes, even a man at death's door had revived.

"Lower the sails halfway! Lookouts, find a bay at once — don't let the ship crash into the cliffs! Fire pear-blossom lance flares to signal the ships behind to follow!"

In an instant, Helian Hailong recovered all his vigor.

Purvavideha — they had finally arrived. He only wondered whether he would see Master Yanshou, who had already ascended to the Buddha-land.

(End of Chapter)

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