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“Are you sure the Marquis of Leping has no hidden agenda behind this arrangement?”
Ni Heng, with a hint of suspicion after listening to Yang Xiu, threw out his question.
It was amusing how Yang Xiu had a knack for overthinking at times when he shouldn’t and keeping quiet when he should’ve pondered more. Qiao Yan found this rather entertaining.
At most, he still had a few “clever” buddies to remind him.
But honestly, Ni Heng wasn’t too bothered by Qiao Yan’s suggestions.
What truly concerned him was how, shortly after becoming Grand Marshal, she started swinging the axe on internal regulations.
On one hand, it was quite savvy for this somewhat unruly court to establish some initial rules, laying a groundwork for future development.
This way, they could avoid having to patch up their own regulations during later expansions, which would slow them down.
But on the flip side, with Qiao Yan making so many moves, it was natural for doubts to arise. If she was steering the ship wrong, could it plunge the entire Chang’an court into an unpredictable abyss right from the start?
Take the alcohol restriction order, for example.
The limit on alcohol probably wasn’t just about the booze.
Considering how scholars these days often relied on wine to liven up their gatherings and share poetry, was this restriction also stifling their freedom of speech, just using alcohol as a decoy?
Alcohol was a significant revenue source for the mighty noble families; was this limit a way for the court to weaken their grip on power to centralize military resources?
For most folks with a tendency to overthink, this was a dangerous signal.
Even if Qiao Yan didn’t punish Ni Heng for his disrespectful words, it didn’t mean that the first doubt could be easily dismissed.
After all, the alcohol restriction was not officially implemented yet, and there were no clear regulations outlined—Ni Heng discussing wine as a sacred item while sipping was technically illegal.
Plus, given that many scholars were flocking to Chang’an and those with interests in wine were coming for the wine event, if she were to punish Ni Heng, it could only be seen as an unwise move.
It seemed like Yang Xiu wasn’t the only one interceding for Ni Heng.
Ni Heng had a hunch that making Yang Xiu the host of this wine event sent a strong signal to the guests.
Yang Xiu’s family from Hongnong had been brought out to serve as a symbol in a direct, simple response to those two worries.
Besides, there were quite a few ministers on the court with vested interests; not a single voice of dissent had emerged to this day. Because of this “authority,” most opted to hold their tongues and wait.
At the very least until Qiao Yan clearly laid out the rules before they voiced their opinions.
If they jumped the gun and Qiao Yan’s true intentions diverged from what they presumed, wouldn’t that make them seem overly anxious?
Only a handful, like Ni Heng, were bold enough to beat the drums and sing.
After all, most folks still cared about appearances.
When Ni Heng asked, Yang Xiu shook his head and said, “I really don’t think you need to overthink it. Back when the Marquis was still in Leping, he struck some deals related to wine with the Wang family from Taiyuan. Plus, after winning against the Xianbei in the north, he celebrated with his soldiers at Yanmen; he’s definitely not someone who takes this lightly.”
“Moreover, since I’m the Chief Clerk of the Grand Marshal’s office, I can’t exactly just sit idle. I was punished by the previous regime for making assumptions about the Marquis’s intentions, and upon returning to Chang’an, taking on existing roles felt a bit off. Honestly, managing the wine event seems much better, a good chance to be independent.”
Seeing Ni Heng still looked doubtful, Yang Xiu continued, “For now, Zheng Ping also has no intention of serving, so why not observe how this Chang’an wine discussion unfolds?”
Just a month’s wait until the end of May.
But if Ni Heng was to be honest, that timeline raised more eyebrows.
The end of May was still a month away, and it seemed the battles were dragging on.
Though according to Qiao Yan, since they needed to establish new rules, they should allow people enough time to think if they wanted to come to Chang’an, hear the rules firsthand, and leave themselves time for travel.
Still, even if someone was coming from the far southeastern part, they probably wouldn’t need that long.
Not to mention, most folks from that direction likely wouldn’t show up anyway.
Ni Heng pondered, still believing Qiao Yan had ulterior motives.
However, for now, Yang Xiu thought her actions were appropriate. Cai Yong, Xun Shuang, and the others were comfortably settled in Leping, while Lu Zhi and Wang Yun had yet to utter a word. He had pride, but he wasn’t blind; waiting a bit longer to speak wasn’t a bad idea.
This delay of the wine event until the end of May not only left Ni Heng perplexed; Wei Ji, who was invited as Yang Xiu’s assistant by Qiao Yan, shared the same doubts.
Having already placed his bets on Qiao Yan last October, Wei Ji brought in Zhang Zhi for her and rallied people from the He Dong noble families. After the establishment of the Chang’an court, it was only natural for Qiao Yan to invite him to serve.
But since Wei Ji didn’t have any practical experience at that point, he first helped Yang Xiu prepare for the wine event.
Then, by being credited for this, he would be recommended as the Right Go-between by Qiao Yan.
Directly starting from the post of Prefect, even though Wei Ji was from a prominent noble family and was quite capable, landing himself in such a peculiar situation would likely attract some criticism unless…
Unless Qiao Yan was certain that this wine event would be more than just an alcohol restriction.
Wei Ji observed how calm Qiao Yan appeared, unaffected by the murmurs in Chang’an lately, stirring some suspicions within him. He then heard her say, “Rather than just a wine event, it’s more a grand display of Chang’an’s capital dignity.”
“Without a possible angle to shatter the undefeated myth, how could all eyes be drawn here?”
Wei Ji still didn’t fully grasp it.
However, he had caught onto some hints from Qiao Yan’s words.
Remembering his detour to the southern part of the city to arrive, much like Zhang Chang’s approach from the east, he instinctively asked, “Is the Chang’an Road in the south part of the city also included in this plan?”
Though the roads were still in their raw form, it was clear something was taking shape.
As time went on, from the very start of the “Chang’an” name to its end into the responding 桂宫, it all began to congeal into solid blocks, like a gigantic stone.
On the surface, what was once a wet concrete coating was gradually drying, transforming into a smooth, solid surface—no longer a place to leave a mark.
Of course, whether or not this was truly as Wei Ji speculated would need to wait until they stepped on it for verification.
Qiao Yan didn’t answer directly, simply replied, “You’re quite smart.”
Chatting with someone as clever as Wei Ji was a breeze, especially since he was pragmatic despite his intelligence.
Once Qiao Yan hinted at other projects, he didn’t probe further and took on the task of reaching out to noble families involved in winemaking.
Qiao Yan considered everything: representatives for reception and image were in place, the spectacle was being maintained, bamboo paper would arrive with the first shipment in May, high-proof alcohol could come straight from Bingzhou, and everything else was ready. So, before this grand event kicked off, she had little left to do. With that in mind, there was no need to focus all her energy on it.
Therefore, those who arrived in Chang’an at the end of April or beginning of May heard the news that Qiao Yan was no longer in Chang’an.
Had she abandoned the city’s chaos and just left?
As everyone exchanged puzzled looks, they soon learned Qiao Yan was off to tackle the flood control of the Weishui upstream, so they had to wait.
Ever since mid-April…
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“The fields around Chang’an are already lush with young sprouts.”
Despite still being far from peak growth, the sheer vitality of it all gives a pleasant feeling, especially knowing we still have grain stored away.
This Guanzhong plain, nourished by the Wei River and its tributaries, is indeed a fertile land with abundant water supply, perfect for farming.
It’s hard to believe that just a few years ago, this area was ravaged by the notorious locust plague affecting the Sanfu region.
But for Qiao Yan, the concerns of Guanzhong go beyond just droughts.
Bi Lan, currently serving as the Water Controller, shares the same sentiments.
As Qiao Yan walked along the riverbank, she heard Bi Lan say, “The Wei River has significant flood issues during summer. While there are many tributaries now, it’s still risky to avoid backflow. To ensure this year’s harvest isn’t unexpectedly ruined, we should prepare early.”
Frankly, it’s not just the Wei River that faces this problem; the frequently shifting Yellow River is currently experiencing the same issues.
Thankfully, the military encampments in the Yellow River basin right now are limited.
The Jincheng army uses the section of the Huang River, while Wuwei Commandery is using the Lu River from Qilian Mountains, and aside from Baidao River, Bingzhou relies on tributaries for irrigation. Hanzhong, of course, uses the Han River, and Guanzhong is all about the Wei River.
Instead of worrying about the Yellow River’s potential flooding issues, it’s wiser to focus on managing the Wei River.
With Bi Lan’s previous experiences in digging waterways in Liang and Bing states, she naturally shifted her attention to the Wei River.
And now, with the extra hands provided by Liu Yan’s good intentions regarding the Dujiangyan project, Bi Lan found herself with a decent crew.
Fu Shou followed closely behind Qiao Yan and Bi Lan, diligently taking notes as the two discussed completing preliminary control measures for the Wei River before August.
A couple of years back, driven by a desire to help those at home understand the rivers and mountains, Fu Shou began documenting the river trends in Bingzhou, encouraged by Qiao Yan. Once she expanded her investigations to Ziwuling, Fu Shou even ventured into muddy riverbanks.
The more she documented, the more she found transforming the unpredictable nature of rivers into structured water conservancy projects genuinely fascinating, which is why her writings on water infrastructure appeared in the Leping Monthly Report.
Thus, she concentrated fully on their discussions.
Perhaps it was because Qiao Yan, as a noble lady, represented the growing recognition of female officials and military leaders; the dresses of women in the field began to adopt a more efficient and streamlined style, and Fu Shou sported such an outfit.
This kind of attire allowed her to easily follow Qiao Yan along the river’s edge without ending up a muddy mess.
Bi Lan pointed ahead, saying, “Those are the four types of flow control devices brought here by the water engineering team from Yizhou. We’ve set them up in the tributaries to confirm their effectiveness.”
In ancient times, flood prevention wasn’t as easy as building concrete dams like today, but the ancients had their own wisdom.
Among the four notable tools brought from the Dujiangyan project are:
First, there’s the bamboo cage, crafted from woven bamboo strips, filled with stones, which is a component for slope protection, and the earliest example from the Dujiangyan project.
Second is the “Macha,” a device made of multiple triangular wooden frames used for stream blockage.
Third, the “Sheep Pen,” but unlike usual sheep pens, it holds stones instead of sheep, serving as a flow-reducing feature in fast-flowing sections of the river.
The fourth is “Dry Stacked Pebbles,” which involves piling pebbles at a gradient for the engineering of canal slopes.
Wood, bamboo, stone, and rope—these are the only materials used for all these water management projects.
But these devices can be applied not only in the Dujiangyan project but also in the areas traversed by the Wei River.
Before Qiao Yan reached Chencang, Bi Lan and Fu Shou had already taken measurements of the flow speed and width of the river at various segments in this area.
This was the result of four months’ worth of work, from January to now in April, and it transformed into a map presented to Qiao Yan.
This measurement spanned from the Bird and Mouse Cave in the Wei River’s headwaters to the east of the confluence of the Jing and Wei Rivers, at the Tong Pass on the edges of Sanfu.
Qiao Yan examined the delicate writing on the map, realizing it was no longer the childish scrawl of the past; she remembered that Fu Shou had grown from that little four or five-year-old to now a fourteen-year-old.
Noticing that Qiao Yan had finished reviewing the map and turned her way, Fu Shou spoke up, “Both Bi and I agree that before August, we should first clear and widen the clogged areas of the river, then use the bamboo cages and sheep pens to reinforce the banks, and once the autumn harvest ends and we have more manpower, we’ll use the Macha to divert water and further plan irrigation for specific farmlands, using dry-stacked pebbles to strengthen the slopes.”
Qiao Yan pondered for a moment before replying, “Have you considered another method for clearing the silt?”
The conditions upstream of the Wei River were manageable, but the loess silt brought by the Jing River was another story—there was silt depositing from the confluence to Huayin.
After years of upheaval in the Sanfu region leading to population displacement, the farming area here had shrunk significantly, so the problems weren’t glaringly obvious.
But now that these lands would be reactivated, they couldn’t afford to overlook it.
Fu Shou curiously asked, “What is this other method?”
Qiao Yan waved to her and Bi Lan, “Come.”
Without hesitation due to her status, she stopped at the riverbank, where the water just touched her calves, and Fu Shou watched as she instructed a subordinate to use mud from the river to create two slightly raised “walls” above the water, forming a miniature river with varying widths.
After completing this, Qiao Yan turned to Fu Shou and asked, “What do you think of the flow speed here?”
Fu Shou studied it for a moment and replied, “Do you mean the flow speeds up in the narrower segments?”
Qiao Yan nodded, “Exactly! This microcosm reflects the same principle in the river; your records of the Wei River confirm this point. It’s not purely due to natural terrain variation.”
From a modern perspective, it seems like basic knowledge, but to ancient folks who often attributed things to fortune, some concepts needed to be presented before they realized the insights within.
For instance, controlled water flow against sediment.
“In faster waters, you can carry away the sediment deposited on the riverbed. Widening the river channel and developing tributaries is a great way to prevent floods, while narrowing segments ensures smooth passage of water. Does that make sense?”
Qiao Yan finished with a point towards the distant sheep pen, “However, this method requires ensuring the riverbank isn’t eroded by accelerated flow; you said the sheep pen can indeed help prevent that, so you might want to take full advantage of it.”
“But where to use it and at what scale still depends on your skills.”
They couldn’t expect her to be a pro at designing water management projects too!
Qiao Yan resignedly took on her role as a hands-off manager.
For Bi Lan and Fu Shou, this unorthodox approach, even lacking the clear “controlled water against sediment” moniker, had already primed them for a new way to tackle water management.
Qiao Yan noted their enthusiasm, then glanced toward the east where the river flowed.
The vast farmlands east of Chencang relied entirely on this river for irrigation. Only by mastering its temperament and shaping its outline could it genuinely become a blessing for the Guanzhong plain.
From the irrigation channels to the Wei River, they had undoubtedly taken a significant step forward.
Could it be that, years down the line, their objective might be the Yellow River?
Qiao Yan couldn’t provide an answer to that just yet, but hey, one has to have goals, right?
She shifted her gaze and focused on the fish swimming in the river, then called out, “Get someone!”
Just when Fu Shou thought Qiao Yan would deliver some nuggets of wisdom, she heard her say, “Catch two fish to grill on the riverbank.”
