Chapter 295
“Can strategists not ascend to the throne?”
Even someone like Tian Feng, deemed an “external enemy,” couldn’t help but show a bit of admiration after hearing Qiao Yan’s words.
Her phrase, “The phoenix comes to roost when the parasol trees grow tall,” rolled off her tongue so smoothly that no one sensed any resentment in it.
It wasn’t until the exam papers for the top three were taken away, ready to be sent to the court for a second round of evaluation, that everyone learned from Guo Jia and Cheng Yu that Qiao Yan’s invitation to Liu Ba was not just a casual remark made two years prior.
Liu Ba had no intentions of taking office; soon after receiving the invitation, he headed south to Jiaozhou with a mindset of watching things unfold. Yet, Qiao Yan still sent him a book.
This book was a part of the emergency medical texts from Chiyang Medical Academy detailing treatments for southern tropical diseases, just in case Liu Ba fell ill during his stay in Jiaozhou.
Though she had never brought up the invitation again, her thoughtfulness meant that even in Jiaozhou, Liu Ba remained attentive to the situation in the Central Plains.
His primary concern was how the Chang’an court was handling the series of disasters in the Guanzhong area from last year.
The Prefect of Jiaozhou, Shi Xie, advised him that since Liu Ba was so worried about the Chang’an situation, he might as well head back soon.
In places like theirs down south, those with grand ambitions wouldn’t linger for long.
Compared to Liu Ba’s treatment, another person also taking refuge with Shi Xie was exceedingly envious.
This person was none other than Xu Jing, known as Xu Wenxiu.
Having given Sun Ce a remark likening him to Xiang Yu during his previous stay in Yang Province, he didn’t dare linger in Kuaiji County. Upon hearing that Sun Ce was planning to head south to Kuaiji, he bolted for Jiaozhou to seek refuge with Shi Xie.
Even though Shi Xie was quite a powerful figure in Jiaozhou, the hospitality he received was quite decent. Jiaozhou wasn’t the Central Plains, and it certainly wasn’t where Xu Jing could live out his days in comfort.
Strangely enough, he didn’t have a good excuse to return to the Central Plains.
Many years ago, when Xu Shao made that comment about Qiao Yan’s “clear voice of the fledgling phoenix,” Xu Jing had already fallen out with his cousin and wasn’t present, missing out on the chance to connect with the Grand Marshal.
Forced by Sun Ce from Yang Province all the way to Jiaozhou, he appeared to be fleeing in disarray, which wasn’t exactly a glorious tale; it was somewhat of a shameful exit.
Watching Liu Ba leave after hearing about the exam in Chang’an, Xu Jing couldn’t help but sigh, “In today’s world, it really comes down to how these young folks perform.”
Shi Xie asked, “In Mr. Wenxiu’s opinion, how long can that Grand Marshal maintain his fortune?”
As Xu Jing assessed Shi Xie’s demeanor when he posed the question, he realized the man wasn’t joking around.
Shi Xie traditionally respected scholars from the Central Plains and was sincerely interested in Xu Jing’s thoughts on the matter.
So, Xu Jing gave a straightforward answer: “Before the autumn harvest, as long as the Guanzhong region remains stable, the Grand Marshal’s future is boundless.”
Xu Jing felt confident in what he stated.
Signs of changing times were less evident in Jiaozhou, but strange news coming from the north was certainly not uncommon.
Indeed, a drought was practically a certainty.
When evaluating both courts’ successes, their responses to natural disasters were particularly crucial.
If Guanzhong could endure such a catastrophe while dealing with a population strain far exceeding Wei County’s, then it was only natural to conclude, looking at Liu Yu and Qiao Yan’s ruler-minister relationship, that their futures were also limitless.
Having a loyal minister like Qiao Yan, who had a hand in revitalizing the Han dynasty, breaking the rule that only Liu family members could be kings wasn’t out of the question either.
However, glancing at Shi Xie, Xu Jing noticed something odd in his expression.
“What’s on your mind, Prefect Shi?”
Shi Xie shook his head, suppressing the unusual look on his face. “I’m thinking of two things. One is when our Jiaozhou governor will stop with his little tricks.”
The Jiaozhou governor Zhang Jin was equally obsessed with ruling through religion, but he was too far removed from the Central Plains, leaving no one to reprimand his antics. Meanwhile, Ze Rong from Xuzhou had already been executed, and Zhang Lu in Yizhou had been reduced to a mere laborer for road construction, while only Zhang Jin continued to have his underlings accompany him wearing red headscarves to study Daoism.
Shi Xie had long harbored complaints about this man, but he knew that as long as the Han court hadn’t shifted its attention to Jiaozhou, Zhang Jin was undoubtedly the rightful governor with sufficient power here.
He continued, “The other thing is, what kind of performance will Liu Zichu put on in Chang’an?”
The selection exam at Hongwen Hall wasn’t as grand as the imperial examinations of later generations; after all, only a few could participate in such assessments.
But when the exam papers for the top three were posted in front of Hongwen Hall, this seemingly simple announcement didn’t stop those eagerly anticipating the results from surrounding the place tightly.
“Though it was already suspected that the Grand Marshal’s preferences would influence this exam’s questions, the actual topics coming out like this did catch me off guard,” someone in the crowd muttered.
As soon as this was said, it drew agreement from those around.
“Absolutely, the selection and fill-in-the-blank questions have too many math problems. Are they afraid we can’t do the math? The abacus in the exam room gave me a headache; if it weren’t for the only giving us a single stick of incense’s worth of time and forbidding us to answer exceeding that time, I would’ve thought that while writing my essay, I’d be hearing the sounds of the abacus all around.”
Just after he finished speaking, a young voice came from behind, “Not passing the math? Isn’t that like becoming a laughingstock like Yuan Benchu?”
This remark immediately sparked laughter among the crowd.
Since the Leping Monthly Report had been selling issues to the public, most participants in this exam had gone through the collected issues to figure out what kind of stylistic approach the immensely powerful Grand Marshal would adopt.
So, even if some didn’t know Yuan Shao’s debt joke prior, they certainly did know by now.
This made it clear that Qiao Yan’s setup really wasn’t flawed.
Having let their enemies learn a lesson here, they certainly couldn’t let their own people suffer a disadvantage.
However, for those used to the old customs of recommending filial piety, adapting to such assessments was not so easy.
Someone immediately complained, “We can let those math problems slide, but why do we still need to answer questions related to the Qiang people in Liangzhou? Though they’re an important part of the Chang’an court now, it has always been that generals come from the west and ministers from the east, and they’ve already shifted to governance by the Qiang for the Qiang. Why must we all be familiar with this?”
The same young voice responded from behind him, “If that’s your stance, why not choose the Confucian texts instead? No one’s making you turn into a practical faction, right?”
“You…” The man couldn’t help but turn around to look at the young man who had refuted him twice. Seeing that he appeared to be excessively young, seemingly not yet twenty, he felt it wasn’t worth arguing with such a youth, making it seem undignified. So he merely retorted, “Who do you think you are?”
The kid spoke so casually, suggesting they could choose the texts, but one should know that those who chose to come to such a place as Hongwen Hall generally came seeking positions in the Chang’an court.
Once they recapture the east, more vacancies would inevitably arise, providing opportunities to secure practical official positions.
If one wanted to showcase their literary talents in front of Qiao Yan, they ought to emulate Ni Heng and Wang Can instead, rather than participating in a literary examination.
Those capable of nailing poetry and essays in such exams were truly in the minority.
This was surely the naive chatter one could expect from the young.
Nevertheless, the young man’s temperament was surprisingly good; he merely replied to the unkind tone, “I am Fa Zheng from Fufeng.”
While speaking, this young man even clasped his hands in a polite gesture.
This made the person who had previously complained about the odd questions feel a bit remorseful. “Oh, Fa Zheng…”
“Fa Zheng? Who is that?” Just as he mumbled those two words, he heard a voice from the front rows.
The overly excited response revealed an interest that left him bewildered.
While pondering whether he had missed out on some big figure in Chang’an, he stepped aside a bit to leave a gap in front of him. He soon heard the answer filtering through the noisy crowd, “The papers have been graded, and law xiàozhí has ranked second in this exam; the papers are right here. Where is he?”
Upon hearing the words “ranked second,” those in line before Fa Zheng parted slightly.
Although this selection at Hongwen Hall wasn’t just about picking two or three individuals, the evident situation was that only the papers for the top three would undergo a second evaluation by the court to ensure that the assessment wouldn’t be one-sided, and since those who had seen the top three papers hadn’t raised any objections, it was clear that this was basically the final result.
These three would bear the titles in front of the Emperor and the court officials, undoubtedly having a much brighter future than them; it was always better to foster goodwill rather than antagonize those capable.
Nevertheless, they then saw Fa Zheng’s rather youthful face.
The young man rushed three steps and made two strides, squeezing through the crowd to get to the three displayed exam papers.
Though he immediately noticed that each paper had annotations written by different individuals, he instinctively focused on the first paper.
As he read the essay question word for word on the first paper, any lingering doubt he had vanished, leaving only a sense of awe.
It was no injustice to be outshined by someone more suited to the occasion!
He quickly turned around to the crowd asking, “Might I inquire where Liu Zichu from Lingling is?”
Since they were all participants in the assessment, perhaps they could even be considered classmates; connecting with capable peers was beneficial.
Sadly, despite his inquiries to the crowd a couple of times, he received no reply regarding Liu Ba’s whereabouts.
Only after being escorted away by the attendant who had come to fetch the successful candidate did Fa Zheng learn that by the time the assessment results were announced, Liu Ba had already been summoned by the Grand Marshal.
“In times of disaster, formulating policies regarding currency and the economy cannot wait; it’s truly understandable for the Grand Marshal to be so anxious,” Fa Zheng mused, not seeing any issue with that.
He wasn’t surprised either; after submitting his paper, which leaned more towards tactical strategies, instead of heading where individuals selected from Hongwen Hall typically went, he was immediately taken to the Grand Marshal’s residence and assigned to work under Guo Jia.
With a month-long probation ahead, Fa Zheng wouldn’t be getting involved with military secrets right away; he’d first assist Guo Jia with manpower allocation and organization of the Chang’an garrison during the disaster phase.
Meanwhile, Liu Ba was now standing before Qiao Yan.
To his surprise, Qiao Yan did not bring up their previous unfinished invitation, nor did she ask about his experiences in Jiaozhou, but instead threw a…
“So, if the drought lasts a year, how much rice do you need to keep the price stable in Chang’an? And if it lasts two years?”
Liu Ba thought it over and replied, “I can’t give the Grand Marshal a direct answer without knowing how many states you plan to conquer this year and next. That affects how much food we need for disaster relief versus military campaigns and how many refugees might flood into Guanzhong.”
“But I can assure you, if the Grand Marshal trusts me enough, I will make sure the plans on that previous sheet come to fruition.”
Qiao Yan looked at Liu Ba’s confident face and laughed, “I told Mr. Yuanfang that with you and Fa Xiaozhi here, this examination should be called a phoenix landing in a forest of wutong trees. Too bad this grove is a bit dry; I hope these phoenixes won’t mind a lack of sweet springs here.”
She handed Liu Ba a document and continued, “I’ve petitioned His Majesty to appoint you as the pingzunling under the Grand Minister of Agriculture. You know what that position entails.”
Liu Ba didn’t immediately respond, instead asking, “So, who holds the current Junshu order?”
To Liu Ba’s surprise, Qiao Yan pointed to herself.
She replied, “You can think of me as the current Junshu, but if you need to change the delivery strategy, you can report it to me.”
The Junshu and pingzun system was an economic strategy proposed back in the Han Dynasty by Sang Hongyang, responsible for adjusting local specialties to the capital, which is still around today, forming two major officials below the Grand Minister of Agriculture.
The Junshu’s job is to confirm what needs to be sent to the capital and what doesn’t, helping allocate resources between regions to sell where prices are high, boosting revenue and circulation.
Qiao Yan jokingly claiming to be Chang’an’s current Junshu wasn’t entirely wrong.
Years ago, after conquering Liangzhou, she sold the Qiang people’s cattle and sheep during the festival to Bingzhou, which was indeed a form of Junshu.
And what’s pingzun? It’s where the government buys and sells resources to stabilize market prices.
During the reign of Emperor Ling, this pingzun became the Zhongzun order, controlled by eunuchs, mostly just responsible for monitoring prices without managing specific adjustments.
But Liu Ba could tell from Qiao Yan’s earlier questions what she meant.
She was asking him how much grain would keep the price stable in Chang’an, clearly wanting to return the former powers stripped from that position.
And the Junshu and pingzun are tightly bound together; if a reliable pingzun encounters an unreliable Junshu, and the Grand Minister can’t balance things out, Liu Ba’s got no choice but to resign, no matter how capable he is.
Fortunately, there’s a limited number of states under Chang’an’s control right now, and most distribution comes from the Grand Marshal himself, so Liu Ba had a clear idea of his role and upcoming work environment.
He bowed to Qiao Yan, “Leaving Count Jun for Jiaozhou was a mistake on my part. I’m grateful you haven’t discarded me and wish to trust me in a high position; I will do my utmost to repay you for this opportunity.”
Liu Ba soon realized that coming from Jiaozhou to Chang’an and joining Qiao Yan’s side might be the best decision he’s ever made.
Because the bureaucratic ecosystem he found himself in now was nothing like what he had witnessed before in Jingzhou or imagined on his way there.
The Grand Minister of Agriculture was undeniably the close aide Cheng Yu.
The head magistrate was Qin Yu, who had served as a clerk while in Bingzhou.
The land registry officer was Tian Chou, excellent in agricultural tasks.
From the military officer in charge of managing military expenses, Guo Yuan, appointed from Zheng Xuan’s disciples.
In short, from the Grand Minister of Agriculture to his subordinates, all were elite personnel who did more than they spoke.
So, Liu Ba found that interacting with his colleagues didn’t require any guessing games or hiccups in communication.
Besides, thanks to the fiscal accumulations from the first and second years of Jian’an, the storages in Chang’an’s government storehouse were quite impressive, almost making Liu Ba wonder if any random person in the pingzun position could succeed simply by leveraging the granaries’ resources.
Of course, he would never voice such thoughts.
He knew well that Qiao Yan chosen to place him in this role was to have minimal costs while accurately achieving control, requiring great instant calculations and market observation.
Also, Qiao Yan’s question, “What if the drought lasts two years,” likely wasn’t casual; she wanted him to approach the task with a long-term plan.
This made his job seem less easy.
Plus, there were three troublesome matters left on his mind.
One was that it was said the Grand Minister’s goal was to serve the Count until eighty before considering retirement, and the head magistrate aimed to outlive his own son, the current Prefect of Hanzhong, Xu Shu.
So, the entire organization from the Grand Minister of Agriculture down, was suffused with a somewhat overzealous vibe about longevity, making Liu Ba feel as if he was walking down a strange path.
The second issue was that Fa Zheng, who also participated in the same examination, seemed unusually interested in Liu Ba, often asking him questions.
Liu Ba preferred dealing with money rather than having a military strategist like Fa Zheng around; he suspected Fa Zheng wanted to extract knowledge from him for some internal evaluations among officials.
Little did he know, Fa Zheng just needed to build good relationships during his internship.
The third was indeed a real concern.
Qiao Yan metaphorically mentioned that Chang’an resembled a parched wutong grove…
Liu Ba looked up at the sky and sighed.
It was a fact.
Even though Guanzhong had begun water conservation projects two years before and had undergone adjustments this year, it only affected surface water; it couldn’t change the weather.
These water conservation projects couldn’t magically recreate last year’s conditions.
After half a month without a drop of rain, even the slowest observer would start to realize something was off, especially with the Grand Marshal daily relaying strategies for drought and locust prevention.
The situation was becoming clearer.
“The Weishui is running shallow,” Qiao Yan stood by the river, her expression heavy.
It wasn’t yet the peak of the drought season or the time of intense summer vaporization, so the observable changes were still limited.
However, the water level in the excavated reservoirs was monitored daily by designated personnel and would never escape her notice.
It might warm up, theoretically, the snowmelt from the mountains upstream should refill the Weishui, but last winter’s snowfall was insufficient. This year, the melting would be lower than usual, and with two seasons of rain missing, the water levels had to drop.
Thinking about facing such a prolonged climatic deterioration, carrying the weight of millions of lives, made her feel the burden on her shoulders was tremendously heavy.
Survival is the foremost task for anyone.
The April issue of the Leping Monthly Report, on Qiao Yan’s order, scrapped evaluations of Hongwen Hall, Fa Zheng, and Liu Ba’s appointments, as well as the implementation of nameless examinations, and instead meticulously detailed the construction of irrigation projects, especially in the riverside areas.
It provided clear specifications for the depth of irrigation under various conditions.
Moreover, each county governor coordinated the supplementary construction of irrigation channels.
Then, it published illustrations of leverage-operated drilling equipment to inform the public about deeper excavation methods.
It could hardly be blamed on Qiao Yan for not starting these deep wells ahead of time.
In the last page of the report, it was noted that before spring farming, nearly all labor for Guanzhong water conservation was directed toward the “Qinling Mountain Front Underground Water Reservoir” apart from a few repairs to local areas.
As the seventy-two valleys on the northern slopes of Qinling entered the Guanzhong plain, a significant amount of vertical seepage formed a natural underground water reservoir.
Even in the dry season, this underground reservoir still held a considerable amount of water.
By locating suitable spots for deep drilling through terrain exploration, it reserved a final lifeline for Guanzhong.
Only after establishing the underground reservoir would the next phase of work begin—
Hoping the citizens of the three states work with each county governor to fully implement the irrigation projects before the surface river control capabilities erode, delaying the underground water diversion project of Qinling as long as possible.
At least in the first year of drought, Qiao Yan did not plan on using this lifeline unless absolutely necessary.
But needing it wasn’t the same as having it.
The people receiving the newspaper might not recognize every character, but they could indeed discern the clear illustrations printed on the paper, highlighting the location of a massive underground lake, instilling confidence amidst drought warnings.
As the drilling equipment rolled into each village, the fear of drought transformed into motivation to assist in the drilling work!
And that’s not all.
On the third page of the monthly report, they delivered good news.
The deep plowing and returning of straw, prompted by last issue’s guidelines for preventing locust hatching, actually benefited dryland farming; their resilience against drought was far greater than regular fields.
Though reduced yield was inevitable this year, it seemed they wouldn’t end up empty-handed.
“I told you we should follow the Grand Marshal’s orders!” exclaimed someone, enthusiastically interpreting the monthly report’s information.
Holding his newspaper, admiring the orderly scenes of irrigation, he couldn’t help but think about how chaotic things could have been without these human interventions and almost offered the monthly report in gratitude.
However, while listening to the drilling plans, he quietly asked his wife, “Do you think the Grand Marshal isn’t afraid of this good stuff spreading to other states and helping our enemies?”
This question was also posed by Zhaoji, who was already preparing for the May issue, asking Qiao Yan.
“Putting aside whether other places have the same detailed measures incorporating underground reservoirs, just think about… irrigation combating drought…”
Qiao Yan’s gaze paused slightly, sighing, “Zhaoji, I’d actually wish for them to take all this down in mathematics.”
“These days, the common folk just want to survive, but why is it so difficult?”
