Chapter 111: The Crown Prince as a Shield; The Great Harm of Sun-Dried Salt

Dark clouds blanketed the sky, accompanied by flashes of lightning and rolls of thunder—a grand display indeed. Then, a howling gale arose, and raindrops the size of fava beans began to patter against the parched earth. Rain is always a welcome sight. From Henan to Guanzhong, even if it rained for ten days and ten nights, not a single commoner would complain that there was too much of it.

However...

In less than five minutes, the fava-bean-sized drops dwindled to the size of millet grains. In another five, they shrank to sesame seeds, and five minutes after that, they vanished entirely. As the clouds parted, the sun emerged, revealing that familiar, unwelcome red face.

In fact, since the beginning of summer, it had rained several times, but always in this fashion.

It brought to Li Wei’s mind a rather crude term: premature ejaculation...

"Let's go," Li Wei said to Bi'er. He led his entourage out of the Eastern Palace toward Tianjin Bridge. Despite the rain, no one was joyous. The current drought was like a woman scorned for thirty years; she would certainly not be satisfied by such a fleeting performance. However, the ground was slightly damp, and shallow puddles had formed in the low-lying areas. Any rain was better than none. As dusk approached, he saw Di Renjie standing on Tianjin Bridge, waiting for him.

This was an unavoidable situation. Serving as the Assistant Minister of the Supreme Court of Justice meant he had to be on duty. It was inconvenient to visit the Crown Prince at night, and although Luoyang was not as large as Chang'an, the Luo River and the Xiecheng Canal isolated the imperial palace, making meetings difficult. Di Renjie had left a calling card at the Eastern Palace before his shift, requesting a meeting with the Crown Prince once his duties were concluded.

Preferring not to disturb the public, Li Wei used a modest carriage. He signaled for the eunuch to lead Di Renjie’s horse and said, "Magistrate Di, please, get in."

Di Renjie hesitated for a moment before boarding the carriage. Li Wei then directed, "To the Di residence."

It was a long way, but Li Wei did not mind. There were many matters to discuss with Di Renjie. As the carriage began to roll, Li Wei asked, "Magistrate Di, how are things at the Supreme Court of Justice?"

"Haha," Di Renjie laughed heartily. This was his area of expertise. "It’s going well." Of course, Li Wei was unaware of the legendary, almost mythological feats Di Renjie would perform at the Supreme Court; had he known, he would have been utterly shocked.

"Magistrate Di, you guessed correctly. Father and Mother have finally yielded to my two proposals."

"Sigh, that was inevitable," Di Renjie sighed. The Emperor and Empress were, on the whole, decent toward the people, though their priorities had an order. Compared to their positions, even if tens of thousands of commoners starved, their own rule had to be preserved. Thus, they initially focused on bamboo paper. It was a noble cause, and the people would care about it. It would be unfair to criticize them; for monarchs, they were already doing quite well. Since they had pinned their hopes on bamboo paper as a lifesaver, even if the proposal was flawed, putting it on the agenda was inevitable. A solution, however imperfect, was better than none at all.

"Magistrate Di, it is not entirely unfeasible," Li Wei explained the process. He hadn't been too direct, using a method of "covering one's ears to steal a bell"—a way to minimize potential criticism. He felt a sense of pride, as the main strategy had been his own.

But upon hearing this, Di Renjie shook his head immediately. "Your Highness, you should not have intervened."

"Why? Mother was right; for every day we delay, more people die."

"Your Highness, your benevolence is admirable, but have you considered whether your wisdom truly surpasses that of the Emperor, the Empress, or the two Chancellors?"

Li Wei felt a pang of shame. He shouldn't assume that because he had introduced bamboo paper and salt-drying techniques, he was a genius. Living across two lifetimes separated by over a millennium, anyone from his era who arrived here—provided they were a normal adult—would possess knowledge far beyond this age. Even if his memory wasn't perfect, with the vast resources and manpower at his disposal, he could refine new things through trial and error, just like the bamboo paper!

This was not his true talent, nor were the poems he recited. In terms of true governance, neither his great parents nor Hao Chujun could compare—not even the gentle Yan Liben.

Di Renjie continued, "In terms of official reputation, Chancellor Hao is considered a good man; he is well-regarded by the common people. That is why he proposed it. But why couldn't he think of a truly secure solution?"

"Why?"

"Because it involves merchants, and he fears future accusations. So, he said half and left the other half to the Emperor and Empress."

"You mean Hao Chujun couldn't bear the stigma either? He had already calculated this, so he let Father and Mother make the final decision. But they couldn't speak of it themselves, so they asked me to present it to the court, making me the scapegoat for any future public outcry?"

"Precisely. Furthermore, once the grand banquet begins, the Emperor and Empress will surely not appear, leaving you and the two Chancellors to handle it. Your Highness has a budding reputation, which, combined with the standing of the two Chancellors, will be enough to convince the merchants. The Emperor and Empress can thus remain above the fray."

"Indeed." Realizing he had been used like a monkey by his own parents, he felt deflated. He laughed at himself, "If it can save countless lives, but everyone is afraid of criticism, then so be it. If I am to be the one to speak, then I speak. At the very least, a blot on my reputation is a small price to pay for human lives."

"Your Highness, do not be disheartened. This is not entirely a bad thing for you," Di Renjie consoled him. "Although your reputation may suffer, you are doing this to save the people. This is a great virtue, and it will not tarnish you as much as you fear. Moreover, by walking into the Emperor and Empress’s trap, they will believe you are still within their control, which will secretly please them."

Hearing this, Li Wei felt a mix of irony and frustration.

"And because you willingly walked into it, they may feel a sense of guilt for their manipulation, especially given your contribution with the bamboo paper. This feeling of guilt will be profound. At the very least, you will be safe for some time. Your Highness, reputation is but smoke and mirrors; it fades once the event passes. Your Highness, how will you endure the wait of the coming century..."

Li Wei shuddered and said solemnly, "You are right."

He must stop overthinking. His first priority was survival. And he shouldn't underestimate how difficult that was; for someone in his position, surviving was harder than for any fugitive bandit.

Thinking of this, he asked, "Magistrate Di, you were so urgent in your message—what matter did you wish to discuss?"

"Salt-drying."

"Magistrate Di, salt-drying will succeed. You need not worry."

"I know it will succeed, which is precisely why I am worried."

"I will not be the one to appear in public."

"That is not what I mean. Your Highness, is it true that as long as the terrain is suitable, salt can be produced anywhere along the coast?"

Li Wei wasn't entirely certain, but he recalled that in later times, there were vast salt pans stretching from the Liaodong Peninsula to the Yellow, East, and South China Seas. He hesitated and said, "It should be so."

"Actually, while salt prices in the empire are slightly high, we are not truly short of salt. The ones who lack salt are not us in the Great Tang, but the Khitan, the Tujue, the Xi, and the more distant Guligan, Jiegu, Dubo, as well as the Mohe in Liaodong and other foreign states and tribes."

"Yes."

"If the price of salt is low, we can trade it to them in exchange for large quantities of warhorses and livestock, which would benefit the Tang. Furthermore, with the people eating cheaper salt, the imperial court can also levy taxes accordingly."

"Yes." Li Wei had not considered these benefits, but he still didn't understand why Di Renjie was worried.

Di Renjie changed the subject. "That Liang Jinzhu you chose, and the other one, Lu something..."

"Lu Ma, a merchant who deals in horses."

"They should be arriving in the Eastern Capital soon, right?"

"Judging by the time, they should arrive in the next two or three days."

"Fortunately, I thought of this at home yesterday. There is still time."

"Magistrate Di, you mean..."

"The territory of the Tang Dynasty reaches the 'Little Sea' in the far north—a frontier unprecedented in history. However, Your Highness, you know well that in the northern deserts and grasslands, the imperial court only maintains a loose hold; it cannot fully control them. The nomadic tribes surrender and rebel constantly. The only areas truly under the control of the court are the coastal regions. The East Sea and the South Sea will not face much crisis. But the Bohai Sea is just a thin ring. This salt-drying technology is so simple; Your Highness, can you guarantee it won't spread?"

Li Wei blankly shook his head. It wasn't like a candy workshop, kept behind closed doors where outsiders couldn't see. Even then, he doubted how long the secret could be kept.

"Exactly. The technology is simple, and the northern nomadic tribes are desperate for salt; they will surely covet the coastal territories. In times of peace, they might fear the strength of the Tang and do nothing. But our Tang Dynasty was recently defeated, our national treasury is strained, and the people are displaced. Tell me, what do you think they will do? Or can our Great Tang launch several powerful wars to force them into submission?"

Li Wei had been in the Tang long enough to know that it wasn't as simple as he once thought.

Why did so many officials oppose expanding the borders? It wasn't easy. A single war required not only countless soldiers but also a staggering amount of logistical support. History records that in the Battle of Dafeichuan, some say the Tang lost one hundred thousand soldiers, others say fifty thousand. Both are correct; the extra fifty thousand were the logistical laborers. With a one-to-one ratio of soldiers to support staff, one can imagine the sheer volume of supplies needed!

Moreover, Li Wei had discovered many frustrating realities. The Tang Dynasty was an agrarian society, and the people were prosperous. This was good. But because they were sedentary, once the nomads invaded, they were guaranteed spoils. When the Tang army marched to fight them, the nomads would simply load their tents onto carts, drive their livestock away, and vanish.

That wasn't all. Due to the "great benevolence" of the heavens, in the eyes of many Confucian scholars, the goal of war was merely to make these barbarians submit. If they were defeated and surrendered, they were immediately released—the generals, the livestock, the commoners, and the soldiers were all returned, sometimes even with rewards and titles. If a general like Xue Rengui killed them, knowing it would strike terror into their hearts, he would be impeached for lacking "benevolence."

In truth, Li Wei often found himself deeply depressed by this.

"Magistrate Di, then you are saying..."

"Regarding the salt-drying, I do not know. But after hearing what you said, it will be effective quickly, and the sites are easy to find. This will inevitably lead to a proposal to the court to levy taxes, which will cause a sensation. The northern tribes will hear of it. When they covet the salt of the sea, they will launch a war. What will the imperial court do then?"

The country was already in deep trouble, with the need to guard against further invasions by the Tibetans. Dafeichuan and Tuyuhun had fallen, and many parts of the Western Regions had been lost. If the northern tribes were to rebel again, caught between internal and external threats, a catastrophe was imminent!