Chapter 19: The Laws of Qin, Once Again

"Get up, get up quickly!" Caught off guard by the sudden prostration, Zhang Qian scrambled to bend down, forcefully pulling at Wang Maobo's arms.

Having never worked a single day in the twenty-first century, his experience in the Great Tang was limited to high-minded individuals like Zhang Ruoxu, who would resign the moment work became unpleasant, or He Zhizhang, who would ignore his official appointment even after being promoted. Thus, he could not fathom just how precious a fifth-grade supernumerary clerk position was in the eyes of an ordinary man.

Wang Maobo, though not as strong as Zhang Qian, refused to budge. Struggling, he kneeled backward half a step and continued to kowtow heavily. "This debt of rebirth is something I cannot repay for the time being. From this day forward, the entire Wang family is willing to..."

"No, no, don't make any oaths. You are you, and the Wang family is the Wang family! They are two separate things!" Zhang Qian felt a shiver run down his spine. He lunged forward, grabbing the man's arms a second time. "If you are grateful, just work hard once you take your post. There is no need to say so much!"

"Yes, benefactor!" This time, Wang Maobo did not struggle to kowtow further. With a forehead covered in bruises and his face still streaked with tears and mucus, he slowly rose to his feet. Despite his disheveled appearance, his spirit was transformed, entirely different from the Wang the drillmaster of the Zhang family estate from moments before.

As Zhang Qian watched him, he felt a secret sense of wonder, followed by a faint pang of guilt toward the Tang Emperor Li Xian.

If a mere fifth-grade supernumerary post could make Wang Maobo kowtow with such profound gratitude and appear as if reborn, then he himself—having been promoted directly to a fifth-rank official by the Emperor—should have been weeping with gratitude or perhaps performing a Hu Xuan dance on the spot to demonstrate his loyalty. Instead, he had been skipping work whenever he pleased and even eating hot pot in his office.

However, upon reflection, he remembered that Zhou Jianliang’s reaction after being promoted from a deputy general to a commander of the Valiant Cavalry had been much the same as his own, which eased his mind.

Zhou Jianliang could serve the Emperor’s favor on the battlefield, and Zhang could do the same at the Directorate of Armaments. At worst, once the Directorate settled into its new location, he could have a set of small red copper hot pots and earthen heaters, inlaid with precious stones, sent to the palace for the Emperor to enjoy. Perhaps he could even take the opportunity to have the Emperor add an inscription to elevate the "brand prestige" of these new products.

But that was for the future. For now, Zhang Qian’s priority was to settle Wang Maobo in, persuade him to accept a patent fee of one copper coin per iron pipe, and leverage the current opportunity—with Zhang Shuo in charge of the Directorate—to turn this into a standard precedent.

This way, whenever a new invention was adopted by the Directorate in the future, the same procedure could be followed. By turning payment for intellectual property into a tradition, and given the importance the Chinese people placed on their children's education, he suspected that within a century, all manner of new technologies suited to the era’s production capabilities would blossom everywhere.

Ancient humans conquered wild beasts with bows, traps, and stone tools, not with teeth and claws. Zhang Qian firmly believed this. History in his previous timeline had proven that an agrarian-based Central Plains civilization could not rely on raw physical strength to resist the devastating invasions of northern barbarian tribes.

If that were the case, the Sixteen Prefectures of Yanyun would likely not have fallen to the Khitan, and it is doubtful whether the Jurchen or the Mongol-Shiwei would have had the chance to rise. Even for the An Lushan Rebellion decades later, if he were still alive, he might have had the chance to let the rebels taste the smoke of black powder.

"Since you call me benefactor, listen to what I say next. You are not to argue, and you are not to refuse!" Thinking of how the An Lushan Rebellion had dragged the flourishing Tang Dynasty into a quagmire of uncertainty, Zhang Qian took a deep breath, his voice becoming resolute. "Your contribution of the stone-drilling and pipe-rolling method is invaluable. From now on, for every iron pipe the Directorate produces, regardless of size, you will be paid a patent fee of one coin. This is valid for twenty years, or until someone invents a better method. I will push for this to become a standard rule at the Directorate. Henceforth, anyone who contributes useful skills or tools to the state shall receive patent fees based on their value."

"This..." Wang Maobo instinctively waved his hands to refuse, but his words were cut short by a stern glare from Zhang Qian. He could only bow his head in gratitude, sweat beading on his brow.

"Go back and prepare. Tomorrow, go to the Directorate of Armaments in the Shanglin Park and report to Guo Nu. I will inform him to have your credentials, robes, and office prepared." Not wanting to give the man any more time to make excuses, Zhang Qian continued in a low, firm voice.

"I obey!" Hearing that he was to take up his post the very next day, Wang Maobo was so nervous he forgot everything else. He stood straight, bowed to Zhang Qian, turned, and strode out the door.

"When you are off duty, remember to come back and continue teaching me cavalry tactics!" Zhang Qian called out with a smile, adding earnestly, "I will pay the tuition!"

"I... I would not dare refuse!" Wang Maobo stumbled, nearly tripping over the threshold. He looked back and bowed to Zhang Qian once more, his prematurely aged face filled with gratitude and pride.

Ever since he had transferred his title of Cavalry Commandant to another five years ago to save his younger brother’s life, he had lived in constant regret and self-reproach. That was why, not yet forty, his hair was already graying and he always walked with a hunched back.

Today, however, he had stepped back onto the path of officialdom. Although it was only a fifth-grade supernumerary position, equivalent to a minor clerk in a county office, he finally saw hope. When he met his father in the afterlife, he would finally have something to account for.

"Young Master, one coin per iron pipe—if the Directorate makes ten thousand pipes a year, wouldn't he get ten strings of cash for doing nothing?" Watching Wang Maobo’s increasingly upright back, Zijuan could not hide her envy as she whispered to Zhang Qian.

"Hmm!" Having completed a long list of tasks, Zhang Qian’s headache had vanished. As he grabbed a charcoal pencil, pondering how to draft the patent policy in language the current Tang bureaucracy could accept, he replied offhandedly.

"What if it's one hundred thousand, or even a million?" Zijuan stared at him in astonishment, her eyes widening until they seemed square.

"Then it's a million coins! The more they make, the more useful his skill is, and naturally, he should receive more money," Zhang Qian replied without a second thought, following his own understanding of the importance of "patents."

"Then... what if I come up with a useful method one day?" Zijuan’s eyes were no longer just wide; they shimmered with the golden hue of Kaiyuan Tongbao coins.

"You'll get paid too, as long as the skill or object is truly new and useful!" Zhang Qian was amused by the question; he looked up at the little miser and nodded with a smile.

"I understand! I'm going to think about it right now. Sooner or later, I'll come up with something useful!" Zijuan’s face flushed slightly under his gaze. She turned away and added through gritted teeth, "I just hope that when the time comes, Young Master, you keep your word!"

"When have I ever lied to you?" Seeing her look as if she had a deep-seated grudge against poverty, Zhang Qian chuckled again. "Go on then, hurry up, or someone else will beat you to it!"

"I know!" Zijuan didn't move immediately. Instead, she blinked her coin-like eyes, looking as if she had just had an epiphany. "Young Master, you are 'erecting a pole at the city gate'! Wang Maobo is the first one to stand up and hold the pole! Young Master, if anyone asks in the future, you must never admit this is the 'Legalist Way' of Qin, otherwise, there will be countless people jumping out to hold you back!"