“Can strategists really not ascend the throne?”
Chapter 286: The Granary Wall
The heavens have shifted…
Qiao Yan knew better than anyone what this shift in the heavens meant for this era.
When drought, locust plagues, and war all converge, the devastation inflicted on the common folk is nothing short of catastrophic.
Even if history books only mention the phrase “Great famine, people turn to cannibalism,” the profound suffering behind those six words tells a tale of countless lives in agony.
Six words, so light yet so heavy.
From Ren Hong’s perspective, as she mentioned the shift in the heavens, Qiao Yan’s expression momentarily froze, and even her grip on the cup tightened suddenly before slowly relaxing as she set it down on the table and picked up a pile of bamboo paper in front of her.
From last May until now, in about a year and a half, this bamboo paper has undergone at least three rounds of optimization, successfully replacing other types of paper as the mainstream office paper in Chang’an due to its cost-effectiveness.
She scanned through the data comparisons done by Ren Hong, letting out a nearly inaudible sigh.
“My lord?” Perhaps noticing her prolonged silence, Ren Hong couldn’t help but speak up.
Despite holding her ground against those questioning her capabilities as Grand Historian, she couldn’t shake off her uneasiness in front of Qiao Yan.
Making the bold prediction of a celestial shift next year was an extremely risky move for her.
Last year, she had already forecasted a solar eclipse for the first day of the new year just to secure the Grand Historian position.
If she were to assert that there would be a celestial shift next year, and it actually happened…
She’d probably be labeled as someone dabbling in dark arts from prophetic literature.
Qiao Yan lifted her gaze towards her, clearly catching the fleeting hesitation on her face, and replied, “I believe you. I was just reminded of the situation in the sixth year of Guanghe. You’re right; the celestial phenomena this winter are indeed peculiar.”
Her crossing into this era started in the seventh year of Guanghe, so her knowledge of the sixth year was just scraps from the original owner’s memories.
However, drought and famine hit even a sheltered person like her with a severe impact, making her memories of that year especially grim.
People depend on crops for survival, relying heavily on the mercy of the heavens.
If the heavens do not favor us, and human effort cannot make up for this loss, what will become of the people?
“The heavens have shifted…” Qiao Yan suddenly stood up. “I will inform His Majesty of this matter at tomorrow’s morning meeting.”
“T-tomorrow?” Ren Hong almost bit her own tongue.
While she knew the lord acted swiftly, bringing such matters to the morning assembly was indeed a surprise.
Keep in mind, the most recent earthquake in Chang’an was back in late December.
Despite the overdue recovery from the October earthquake, it had taken until the end of December to assess the damages in the city after the statistics were completed.
Tomorrow would be the grand assembly of the new year!
According to protocol, the emperor was supposed to perform ceremonies honoring the heavens and earth first, then return to the Purple Forbidden City to open the assembly.
Bantering around the capital claimed the new year might even bring a new era, advising to limit discussions about the earthquake to avoid dragging last year’s calamities into this year’s focus.
Yet, here stood the lord, ready to present the shift in the heavens tomorrow.
Ren Hong had no doubt that with Qiao Yan’s disposition, if she mentioned predicting the weather, she’d also want to cover how to deal with the aftermath of the earthquake.
Just as she was about to ask if they should delay the discussion, Qiao Yan said, “If winter holds no snow, and drought truly comes, we should see signs by early spring. If we wait too long, it may be too late. What if summer brings locusts and autumn continues with no rain? Will the people survive off the last two years’ reserves?”
Ren Hong’s eyes flickered, and she then heard Qiao Yan continue, “Some things, we know the controversy they’ll stir, but we still must do them. Isn’t that the essence of rising to a higher position?”
She pulled out a box from a shelf nearby and handed it to Ren Hong, signaling her to open it.
This was the box seen at the beginning of the year, made to hold Victory Coins.
Perhaps to showcase a more formal gesture of goodwill towards subordinates, it had been repackaged.
However, the lord’s practical attitude remained unchanged. Most likely, they had produced enough boxes last year to continue using them this year.
Ren Hong opened the box, and unsurprisingly, it contained the Victory Coins meant to be distributed tomorrow.
But as her gaze fell on the coin’s design, her expression shifted.
As a native of Bingzhou, she had seen Yanshan and the winding Great Wall atop it. What lay before her wasn’t a mountain but a “mountain” made up of millet, wheat, rice, and beans, carved to resemble the Great Wall.
Although simplified for coin printing, one could still grasp its deeper meaning.
This is…
“Without ordinary folk toiling the land, without grain in hand, there can be no Great Wall. It was meant to celebrate last year’s bountiful harvest, but now it serves as a warning,” Qiao Yan pronounced deliberately. “The Great Wall wasn’t built by mere words. Now that a crisis is at hand, do we really need to sugarcoat reality?”
She had refrained from launching an attack on Yuan Shao, stockpiling supplies for years, and steadily building trust among the people of Guanzhong towards the court of Chang’an—and towards her—to prevent such a turn of events.
“If there’s accountability to consider, I’ll bear it myself.”
Now that she had taken the position of Grand Marshal, she wouldn’t allow anyone to interfere with her actions!
The next day, Chang’an had yet to spring into a lively uproar as households celebrated the new year. Inside the Purple Forbidden City, officials had already gathered for the morning assembly.
It followed the customary greetings from the emperor as he welcomed the new year, then moved into the planning phases for the year ahead.
As the reconstruction of Guanzhong in the first and second years of Jian’an was entirely led by Qiao Yan, it was naturally passed on to her by Liu Yu to manage.
However, to the surprise of everyone present, Qiao Yan’s first statement essentially conveyed—
This year could face severe drought, and to mitigate any potentially disastrous outcomes, the Grand Marshal’s office unanimously decided to inspect and expand waterways from January to March, while also increasing the number of water reservoirs to ensure adequate water supply.
Upon hearing this, someone immediately jumped in to ask, “Why is the Grand Marshal so certain that this year’s disaster is inevitable?”
Qiao Yan glanced towards the source of the voice and spotted Chunyu Jia.
This official had been selected from Hongwen Hall’s roster and had almost been in the court for two years now.
He had once served as a local dignitary but had stepped down after Dong Zhuo’s misdeeds troubled the court, only to re-emerge in these past two years. So, while he wasn’t among the first group of officials in Chang’an, his experience certainly held weight.
There was even talk in Chang’an that if one of the three high ministers were to retire, considering the advancing ages of Chen Ji and Zhao Qi, he would most likely be next in line for the position.
No wonder he felt bold enough to speak up now—the rumor of him being a potential high minister likely boosted his confidence.
His first question was polite enough, but before Qiao Yan could lay out the meteorological evidence, Chunyu Jia swiftly followed up with another question: “Is the Grand Marshal truly just responding to the shift in the heavens, fearing a famine?”
“Is this a disaster because of a lack of foresight, or are they just dragging their feet on marching?”
Qiao Yan’s expression suddenly soured, “What does this mean, Grand Minister?”
“Literal meaning,” Chunyu Jia replied confidently, ignoring the disapproving glances from his colleagues, feeling heroic for speaking the truth.
While others had to tread carefully around the Grand Marshal, he insisted on clarifying things.
“In the first year of Jian’an, Chang’an had over eight million stones of grain stored, and in the second year, the population in Guanzhong increased by over twenty thousand households. Grain yield per mu rose too, and although the taxes from Yangzhou were handed over to Hailing and the taxes from Yizhou were hoarded in Hanzhong, the total grain storage in Guanzhong remained above fifteen million stones.”
“Yet, since the Grand Marshal’s expedition to Hanzhong to deal with Zhang Lu in the first year of Jian’an, nearly two years have passed. With such a grain reserve, why are we still idle? Are we waiting for Yuan Shao to hand over every matter related to the Chang’an court? Let him close the gap through years of maneuvering and then launch an attack on us!”
In Chunyu Jia’s view, with fifteen million stones of food, they could easily recruit an army of over a hundred thousand.
They could march over the Taihang Mountains, or move from Chang’an to Luoyang and then north to Yanzhou, or slice through River North County to enter Weijun. With just a little spit, they could drown Yuan Shao!
Once there’s only one orthodox ruler in this world, any troublesome matters would cease to be troubles!
But what has Qiao Yan been doing?
For almost two years, aside from stirring up some fuss in Chang’an, all she did was patch up the disasters that happened in the city last year, even earning Yangzhou court’s mockery that they were a false court rejected by heaven.
People said the current Grand Marshal was a capable warrior with extraordinary courage; otherwise, she wouldn’t have first fought at the frontier, then forced Dong Zhuo to flee Luoyang, settled Liangzhou, and welcomed the Son of Heaven back from Youzhou.
Yet since Chunyu Jia’s appointment in Chang’an, all he saw was Qiao Yan avoid battle.
Even rallying troops at the Taihang Mountains was just a show of intimidation without any intention to advance!
With two years gone and a full granary, wasn’t it enough for Qiao Yan to launch an attack on any of Yuan Shao’s territories?
In the second year of Jian’an, Yuan Shu, recuperated and eager to defeat Yuan Shao, pushed into Chenliu County in Yanzhou.
Though he was defeated by Cao Cao, who was already prepared there, and it was deemed merely a retaliation against the Gao family, at least he took action.
That same year, Sun Ce in Yangzhou conquered Kuaiji County, and most of Yuzhang was in his hands, poised to sever Huang Zu’s head for revenge.
While he was pacifying Yangzhou, he even supported Zhang Yi in Xuzhou, helping him establish a foothold above the Yangtze River and below the Huai River.
But Qiao Yan, after a near two-year silence, said something about this year possibly facing drought, and to prevent greater losses, they needed more manpower for canal repairs—
How was that different from saying, “I don’t plan to march this year”?
If that’s the case, Yuan Shao would probably wake up laughing from his dreams!
Chunyu Jia continued, “If the Grand Marshal thinks attacking Yuan Shao lacks certainty, the Chang’an court has settled here for two years now. There are plenty of valiant generals ready for battle. That Wang Zhongxuan wrote a poem for a divine maiden to send troops and caught the Grand Marshal’s attention, but where are those troops?”
This last jab left no mercy for Qiao Yan.
But instead of seeing a flicker of anger on her face, he noticed her smile, laced with mockery, aimed at a fool.
“Grand Minister, I hope you understand the difference between dealing with drought preparations and attacking Yuan Shao.”
Without lifting her eyelids, she maintained her calm tone, “If you felt that there was a moment last year to march, you could have said so right here and discussed it with everyone present, let me hear how I missed the opportunity, or if you think someone can outsmart me in military strategies, you can bring him to compare notes with me. Rather than—”
“Blabbering some nonsense you think is insightful!”
Qiao Yan’s words weren’t heavy but carried an undeniable sharpness.
“You say Yuan Shao will catch up to us in these years of inactivity, but all I see are a bunch of incompetent bureaucrats lazily gathering in Ye City, content with their so-called high birth status, satisfied that their grain yielded from three stones increased to four. Meanwhile, our court in Guanzhong is thriving; this year, without any natural disasters, seven stones per mu is definitely not our limit.”
“Those in low positions can find their way up, while those high must not forget the common folk. Merchants flood into Chang’an, while farmers’ granaries overflow, and during winter, few are frozen to death on the roads; migrants settle here comfortably, asking those who write letters on their behalf to help them notify their hometowns to come live in Chang’an. This is the reality of Chang’an.”
“If all this still makes you think Yuan Shao would wake up laughing, why don’t you roll into his dreams!”
After this fierce interrogation, she didn’t spare Chunyu Jia another glance, instead bowing to Liu Yu, “Your Majesty, please make a clear judgment. Natural disasters aren’t swayed by human desires; only good governance and benevolence can avert them. In the current situation, it’s best to proceed cautiously, preparing for drought while waiting for spring plowing.”
Liu Yu replied, “Then we shall follow what the Grand Marshal suggests.”
As the Emperor of Heaven had spoken, Chunyu Jia could only swallow whatever else he had to say.
The more he thought, the more he felt that the Chang’an court was essentially a one-man show ruled by the Grand Marshal, with Liu Yu merely a title for Qiao Yan to wield orders.
Even though Qiao Yan had never disrespected Liu Yu, for those who didn’t like her, judgment shouldn’t only depend on her actions but rather on the results.
Even the mere speculation of drought, when finalized, would roll out preparations—who knew whether it would drain resources? Wasn’t that enough to prove Qiao Yan’s unrivaled authority in Chang’an?
Chunyu Jia sighed as he exited the Zicheng Hall, pondering how to find another opportunity to speak.
However, Qiao Yan didn’t give his movements a second thought.
Why bother with someone unworthy of being her opponent when she had more pressing matters at hand?
The first was the disaster preparations she had already addressed in court.
Before the spring plowing, they had a lot to do.
Especially concerning the inspections and repairs of water storage and irrigation systems.
Fortunately, since the first year of Jian’an, Bi Lan, Fu Shou, and Jia Mu had been on this task, and the canal constructions in Bingzhou and Liangzhou hadn’t just started in recent years.
The other matter was…
Some students from Leping Academy had been brought to Chang’an by her.
Zhuge Liang, Pang Tong, Sima Yi, Lu Lingju, Lu Yi, Guo Huai, among others—with the oldest at sixteen and the youngest only twelve, they were all in front of her when she returned to the Grand Marshal’s residence after court.
Young as they were, these kids had grown like bamboo shoots since she first saw them years ago, people’s heights, appearances, and demeanors had transformed dramatically.
As she had done with Ren Hong, she handed each of them the Victory Coins from their years under Jian’an.
Then she surveyed them one by one, lost in thought about Zhao Yun, Zhang Liao, Xu Shu, and Cai Zhaoji at such a young age.
Qiao Yan steadied herself and said, “I have a task for you all.”
