Chapter Nineteen: Schemes and Strategies—First Encounter with Helan (Part Two)

Bi’er’s family name was Jiang, but in the palace, the names of close-serving maids were always called by their childhood names, such as Bi’er, Tuan’er, Luo’er, and the like. Her grandfather had been a minor official in Chang’an, considered a respectable family—otherwise she wouldn’t have been selected to enter the palace. But by her father’s generation, the family had fallen into decline.

Her two elder brothers, one named Jiang Wenquan, the other Jiang Wenchen, had also suffered due to the family’s poverty. One was twenty-eight, the other twenty-two; it was only this past New Year that they managed to scrape together enough money to buy two refugee women as wives. Usually, they worked and earned their living in a workshop in the Eastern Market.

Led by Bi’er, the group entered an alley in the Eastern Market. All the shops along the street looked quite splendid, but inside they were workshops—filthy and disordered. Li Xian fanned himself continuously, forcing himself to endure the stench, while Li Xian, Li Xulun, and Li Lingyue had already covered their noses.

When they found the workshop, Bi’er called out her brothers. Her eldest brother, Jiang Wenquan, was astonished. “Bi’er, how did you get out of the palace?”

Bi’er answered softly, “It’s the Crown Prince.”

Only then did Jiang Wenquan notice the group behind her. He wasn’t sure which one was the Crown Prince and was so anxious he was about to kneel. Li Wei stepped forward and steadied him, saying, “We’ve come in plain clothes, don’t alert anyone else.”

“Yes,” Jiang Wenquan replied, finally daring to survey the group. The two brothers, likely due to malnutrition, were thin and weak. Li Wei signaled Bi’er with a look. She went to find the foreman and said, “I’d like to request leave for my two brothers.”

The foreman was displeased, but seeing the group behind her and the brothers standing uneasily, he suddenly remembered their sister’s position in the palace and was startled. Realizing the situation, he immediately changed his demeanor, smiling obsequiously. “How could I not obey the young lady’s wishes?”

As they left, a craftsman grumbled, “Liu, work is so tight—why let them go in broad daylight?”

“What do you know? Didn’t you see those people’s clothes? I suspect the Crown Prince himself is among them.”

“The Crown Prince?”

“Yes, the Jiang family’s daughter serves the Crown Prince in the Eastern Palace. I heard her mother was seriously ill, and the Crown Prince even gave money for her aid. The Jiang family is about to soar.” The foreman muttered.

Following the Jiang brothers, they crossed through the southern gate of the Eastern Market and arrived at Shengping Ward, a small plateau—the highest point in Chang’an. There was a Leyou Park there, a favorite spot for the ladies of the city to climb and admire the scenery during the Third Month Festival and the Double Ninth. But the Jiang family lived in the northeastern slums.

Rows of houses, some tall, some short, most two-story lofts crowded together. At the entrance to the alley, piles of rotting refuse gave off a stench.

Jiang Wenquan said awkwardly, “Your Highness, our place is too humble.”

“It’s nothing. Second, third, and fourth brothers, and little sister, you stay here. I’ll go visit the Jiang family and return soon,” Li Wei said, secretly pleased—he hadn’t expected this environment would give him the perfect excuse to dismiss his “shadows.”

Even Li Lingyue nodded in agreement this time—none dared enter!

Arriving at the Jiang home, a frail elderly woman was pouring out dirty water. Seeing her daughter return, she exclaimed with joy, “Bi’er, how did you come home?”

“Mother, it’s the Crown Prince.” Bi’er came over, helped her pour the water into the gutter, and whispered softly.

“The Crown Prince—” The woman was so flustered she didn’t know where to place her hands, wringing them anxiously.

Bi’er quickly covered her mother’s mouth and pulled her inside. Li Wei followed. The house was very basic, and Bi’er’s father and two sisters-in-law were nowhere to be seen, presumably out working to support the family.

Bi’er’s mother tried to kneel in greeting, but Li Wei quickly pulled her up. In his heart, he already considered Bi’er as one of his indispensable future wives—she was, after all, his prospective mother-in-law; it wouldn’t do to let her kneel.

Touching his nose, he said, “Everyone, please sit.”

He thought to himself, I’m starting to feel like the host here.

He sent the guards outside, leaving only Liu Qun. Li Wei said, “Bi’er, you’ve seen it yourself—there are many disaster refugees in the city.”

“Yes, Your Highness, but there are too many. Even if you emptied the Eastern Palace’s treasury, it wouldn’t be enough to save them all.”

“That’s exactly the point. Not only would it be impossible, if the drought continues, even the state treasury will be strained, and the Eastern Palace’s expenses will be cut. On this, I must admit my cheap father and mother are wise—if it were Emperor Yang of Sui, he’d ignore the people’s suffering, send troops to Tuyuhun, and after years of unprecedented disasters, the country would collapse. It’s not easy.”

“But seeing the refugees, I can’t bear it in my heart.”

“But, Your Highness, even if you reorganize the inner palace, there’s not much money or silk to spare.”

“That’s why I called your brothers here—to discuss something.”

“Your Highness, we’re not worthy,” Bi’er’s brothers were so frightened their faces turned pale. They were in no position to be the Crown Prince’s brothers-in-law.

“No need to be afraid. In the palace, I treat Bi’er as family.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Madam Jiang said quickly, her face alight with joy even before Li Wei could react. That one sentence from Li Wei—what did it mean!

Li Wei was a bit dizzy—this wasn’t the Qing dynasty; why did people keep kneeling? He helped her up again and continued, “Do you remember the milk candy?”

Bi’er and Liu Qun both nodded—they’d made milk candy three times in the past few days because the little princess was greedy for it.

“I want to bring it to market.”

“But…”

“Bi’er, I know what you’re thinking. Officials are forbidden from doing business, let alone myself. So I can’t appear, but I need your brothers’ help. Of course, I’ll allocate some of the profits to their names. This is just the beginning. I don’t have the right to elevate your family yet, but I can at least let you live in moderate comfort.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Bi’er said happily. She didn’t know about being well-off, but helping the Crown Prince meant drawing her family closer to him. Liu Qun was envious. Li Wei noticed and said, “I asked you last night—you have an elder brother too. Bring him here to help.”

Most palace maids came from Chang’an itself, but the choice had to be careful—at first, the scale wouldn’t be large and it would carry the stigma of commerce. Last night, he’d questioned some “trusted” maids about their families. Liu Qun’s family was suitable—also fallen into poverty. That’s why she’d sought to please Li Wei by bringing him information. Her brother was literate, which was useful. The Jiang brothers, though trustworthy due to Bi’er, couldn’t read, which was a flaw.

Liu Qun thanked him excitedly.

But the methods used in the Eastern Palace weren’t suitable—Li Wei took out a sheet of paper outlining large-scale production and the method for refining sugar crystals. Still, he doubted the quality of the refined sugar—he lacked the right machines and wasn’t an expert—he only knew the general process. The biggest issue was the lack of high-quality cane sugar.

To get good cane sugar, you had to go to the source when the season was right, but there were too many complications—Li Wei could only sigh in frustration.

The more he learned, the deeper his sense of helplessness. Being Crown Prince wasn’t as good as being an ordinary citizen—he knew enough to get rich but was shackled at every turn. Look at that Yu Langjun—how carefree, even thinking of courting foreign women.

He handed the paper to Liu Qun. “From now on, I’ll arrange excuses for you to leave the palace. You’ll work with the Jiang brothers and your own brother to handle this for me.”

“Yes,” Liu Qun felt as if she’d ascended to heaven.

“There’s something else I need you all to do.”

“Please instruct us, Your Highness.”

“Paper-making.”

They were all startled. Li Wei continued, “A new kind of paper—if it succeeds, it will reduce the cost tenfold.”

The history of bamboo paper is confused. Just now, Li Wei had visited a major paper shop to check if it was available. It might exist, but the technique was immature, or perhaps not even that. Good bamboo paper required over seventy steps—Li Wei wasn’t sure of them all, but he’d read “The Exploitation of the Works of Nature” and knew the Ming dynasty method: soaking young bamboo for a hundred days, pounding and washing the husks, boiling with lime for eight or nine days, separating fibers, beating pulp, scooping onto screens, pressing, and drying with heat.

There would be flaws, but this Ming process was at least mature; it couldn’t be much worse than current paper, and the biggest advantage was its low cost.

There was bamboo on Mount Zhongnan, but the best was the hairy bamboo from Fujian and Zhejiang. As for this bamboo paper, Li Wei wasn’t greedy—he meant it as a gift of merit for his mother. Once the cost of paper dropped, more people could afford to read and write. Civilization would spread quickly. Whatever effect it would have on his parents, he couldn’t calculate, but he knew it would at least help relieve his mother’s current difficulties and increase her virtue.

The merit was immense. If he monopolized it, it wouldn’t be impossible—but as the Crown Prince, once bamboo paper spread, it would cause a sensation. Investigate further, and links to himself would be found everywhere. Even if his parents didn’t mind, he’d offend too many people—how many paper-making interests existed nationwide? What backgrounds lay behind them? How many censors would be provoked? Li Wei couldn’t afford the consequences. And if he did so, it would show selfishness—would his parents really not object?

Better to let the court worry about it.

Of course, if possible, the Jiang brothers could expand their workshop.

Or perhaps even move on to movable-type printing? He reconsidered—introducing too much at once would only prove he was “neglecting his duties” and turn him into the “carpenter emperor” of the Ming dynasty. That would be overdoing it.

Bi’er and Liu Qun were not fools. Hearing that the cost could be cut tenfold, they understood the significance.

Li Wei gave a detailed explanation, then said sternly, “No matter what, the process must not be leaked.”

They all nodded. Only then did Li Wei take out silk and, with the Jiang family’s profuse thanks, bid farewell.

By now, it was dusk. The lush trees of Leyou Park on the high ground were turning from yellow to green, bathed in the gentle evening sun, shrouded in a glowing haze. But the air was dry, and dust hung in the atmosphere, making everything look a little gray.

Checking the time, Li Wei said to Li Xian and the others, “You should head back.”

The elder brother was going to visit his prospective parents-in-law; naturally, it would not do for them to follow. Still, Li Lingyue, ever the persistent one, trailed along.

The Yang residence was in Changshou Ward, south of the West Market. Fortunately, it was on the same main street—one at the north end, one at the south—and the carriage didn’t take long to arrive.

Yang Sijian and his wife had been waiting and hurried to the door as soon as they saw him. Yang Min, however, was shy and hid inside. Welcomed in, Li Wei was warmly received—tea was poured, water served. Madam Yang scrutinized Li Wei—his face was pale, and he was thin, but his features were delicate, with a hint of color, not as frail as rumored. His gentle manner pleased her.

As they sat and talked, Li Wei still showed none of a Crown Prince’s airs; his words were affable, and the more they talked, the more the Yang couple liked him.

Just as they were about to eat, a servant announced, “The Duke of Zhou requests an audience.”

Li Wei frowned. He had heard the name but never met the man. From what Bi’er had told him, this person was not friendly toward him. But that was not his concern. The man was his mother’s only maternal relative; though he would be executed by his mother in the future, Li Wei had no need to make an enemy of him now. He decided to wait and see.

A cheerful, clear laugh sounded from outside. The Duke conversed familiarly with Yang Chengyou—it was clear they were frequent visitors, which was unsurprising, as the families were related. Li Lingyue stood up, greeted him, and called out loudly, “Cousin!”

“Oh, little princess! Come here, let me give you a hug.” With that, a youth with a face as handsome as jade, features more delicate than a girl’s, picked up Li Lingyue and entered.

Catching sight of Li Wei, he let Li Lingyue down in surprise and said, “Uncle, you have a distinguished guest—why, isn’t this the Crown Prince famed for his poetry?”

Li Wei was mild in disposition but not weak. Since the challenge was at his doorstep, he was not flustered. Seated, he replied slowly, “And who is speaking to me—could it be the Duke of Zhou, who, while still in mourning, indulged in amusements?”

As a poet, he might stir some controversy, just as Cui Rong had once critiqued him. Ever since the Han dynasty, filial piety had been highly valued. To compose poetry or enjoy amusements was not necessarily wrong; indeed, many considered it an elegant pastime. But to do so while in mourning was unfilial—a charge that would utterly destroy a man’s reputation.

He did not rely on his status as Crown Prince to oppress, nor did he resort to fists or rebuke. With a single understated remark, he struck directly at Helan Minzhi’s vital weakness.