Chapter Twenty-One: Three Strategies for Taming Horses; The Sage’s Foresight (Part Two)

"Your Highness, you look much better today."

"Hmm."

"Your Highness, I heard that Miss Yang is ill." As Bi'er spoke, her hands slowed as she combed Li Wei's hair, her eyes watching him in the bronze mirror.

"Hmm."

"Your Highness, do you wish to give her another chance?"

"You little imp, always sharp-tongued but soft-hearted. You know how long and arduous this road is," Li Wei gestured toward the direction of the Tai Chi Palace and continued, "It's difficult enough as it is. If it were someone else, I might not care, but I don't want those closest to me to bring me endless trouble. If she and her family can reflect on themselves, I will let this matter go. If not, I would rather have none than the wrong one."

This time, he had truly misunderstood Yang Min. But without cause, how could there be effect? Besides, did Yang Min like him for who he was, or for his title as Crown Prince? If it were the latter, and she continued to stir up trouble, then no matter how beautiful she was, it would be better to end things swiftly rather than drag them out.

"The human heart is the hardest thing in the world to fathom," he sighed inexplicably.

When his hair was done, he was ready to attend his studies. The scholar instructing him today was also an interesting man named Pei Ji. Dr. Wang had given him a copy of the "Gongyang Commentary," while Pei Ji presented him with "The Art of War" by Sun Tzu and "Wuzi's Art of War," inscribing on the title page: "The way of the military is akin to the way of humanity; both are governed by the same principle."

The two scholars, fearing gossip from other scholars, always passed him these books in secret.

It seemed not all great scholars were stubbornly unyielding.

Just as he was about to leave, someone came to report that an imperial edict had arrived from Luoyang.

Another imperial edict? Li Wei was taken aback. Although Luoyang was only seven or eight hundred li from Chang'an, and a swift horse could make the journey in a day and a night, these edicts were arriving far too frequently. Moreover, the last two...

He had no choice but to go out and meet the messenger.

This time, a different eunuch stood in the room, unfurled the decree, and read aloud: "With the second month drawing to a close, spring plowing approaches. You are to represent Us at the Sacrificial Field, to personally plow the sacred land. We have heard that there has been a long drought in Guanzhong. After you plow, you shall conduct the Great Rain-Seeking Ceremony on Our behalf..."

Li Wei was stunned again, but his studies of the rites left him clear on the matter. In the Tang dynasty, the Round Mound was for sacrifices to Heaven, the Square Mound for sacrifices to Earth, and the State Altar for offerings to the gods of grain and land. There were many ceremonies: the Ming Hall offerings in autumn, the Four Corners sacrifices to the Five Emperors, the northwest Lingxing Shrine sacrifices to the Director of Fates and the Lords of Livelihood, annual sacrifices to the Five Sacred Mountains, Four Rivers, Four Seas, and Four Guardians, even the grand Fengtian and Shandong ceremonies. There were simply too many rituals, both great and small. Even emperors known for their reverence of ritual could not keep up with every single one.

The Great Rain-Seeking Ceremony was held at the Round Mound in midsummer, but in times of severe drought, it could be held at any time, with additional rites at the ancestral temple, the state altar, and to the sacred mountains and rivers. The plowing of the Sacrificial Field was held in early spring, when the emperor led officials to the sacred field to worship and personally plow, to demonstrate the importance of agriculture and encourage the people to farm diligently.

Both were grand ceremonies, especially crucial in a year of drought, when the emperor's presence was expected. In truth, they could also be held in Luoyang. Why was he to preside in Chang'an instead?

Was there some hidden message?

His mind buzzed. The eunuch continued to read: "We have ruled without virtue, Heaven grows angry, and for years the nation suffers drought and flood. The people are in distress, and the treasury is depleted. The ceremonies must be conducted frugally but with utmost sincerity."

Or, in plain words, they wanted a fine outcome but were unwilling to pay the cost.

Li Wei did not need to worry about these things; the officials would handle them. Still, his father knew his character and trusted him with these crucial matters, mentioning them almost in passing. The decree continued: "Your sisters Yiyang and Xuancheng are of age, and their weddings must proceed. The Ministry of Rites has set the date. The Empress and I are not in Chang'an; you are to preside on Our behalf."

Perhaps Empress Wu, not wanting the trouble, stayed in Luoyang and took the opportunity to marry off Consort Xiao's two daughters, avoiding the awkwardness of returning to Chang'an. In fact, it was Li Wei's own memorials that had prompted this. Did it mean his mother was still angry?

Li Wei could not figure it out, and it was driving him mad. When the edict was finished, he said, "Eunuch, would you please convey to my imperial parents that I am inexperienced and these matters are of great importance, beyond my humble abilities."

The eunuch smiled slightly. "When I set out, Their Majesties anticipated this. They said you are growing older and must learn to shoulder responsibilities. Besides, with the second month nearly over, there is no time for another memorial. The drought is severe, Your Highness, there must be no delay."

The princesses' weddings would be held at the end of the third month; the Rain Ceremony could be delayed, but the plowing was urgent. There was hardly time even if they began at once.

Li Wei suspected his father had timed the decree precisely.

He immediately shouted, "Prepare the carriage! I am going to the Hall of Prolonged Enlightenment!"

But the eunuch grabbed him and said, "Your Highness, do not be hasty. There are two more verbal messages, both from Her Majesty."

At the mention of the Empress, Li Wei froze as if spellbound and bowed respectfully, saying, "Please deliver the message."

The eunuch said, "Hong'er and Yue'er are of age to enter the Institute of Scholarly Learning. I did not take her to Luoyang, but I hear she is unwilling to study. I have also heard that lately, Yue'er has become very attached to you. Advise her on my behalf. Additionally, I have heard from Luoyang of a curious new thing in your inner palace, called an abacus, which makes accounting much easier. Bring it and its instructions to Luoyang for me to see."

That was all. But Li Wei broke into a cold sweat.

Li Lingyue had been visiting frequently, which was hard to hide—he had done so on purpose. But as for the abacus, only a few people knew about it. It had only been used once, and that behind closed doors in the accounting room. Not much time had passed—how had his mother found out? Did she have eyes everywhere?

He dared not ask, and only replied, "I respectfully obey my mother's instructions."

The eunuch beamed and said, "Work hard. Ever since you presented that milk candy and treated your siblings kindly, word has spread to Luoyang. Their Majesties are very pleased."

At last, joy broke through Li Wei's anxious mood. The last twenty days had been spent in constant fear; if not for the occasional playful teasing of Bi'er, he would have found it unbearable. Now, finally, some good news. If not for his improved composure from his studies, he would have embraced the eunuch in delight.

"Reward him, reward him!" he called out.

That line from Du Fu, "Unrolling my books, joy overwhelms me,"—whatever Du Fu felt then, Li Wei felt now.

More importantly, this proved his mother still responded to his gestures. History was unclear; he constantly worried about what she truly thought. If she wanted to be emperor herself, disregarding son and husband alike, then her heart would be closed, and he would have no way forward. To confront Wu herself? If not, he would have to prepare in advance, perhaps flee abroad like the monk Xuanzang for a shadowy survival—surely better than dying without a trace.

If she could still be pleased, all was well. In a few months, he would present her with bamboo paper, and next year, movable type printing, and the following year, perhaps the compass.

"Your Highness, there's no need," said the eunuch, "You are compassionate to the people, always aiding them, yet your resources are limited. Do not spend on servants. Just remember my name, Wang Cai-nian, and that is enough."

Such perceptive words marked a wise eunuch. Moreover, it confirmed that the political winds in Luoyang were changing.

Li Wei replied cheerfully, "Very well!"

He called for Liu Qun to fetch the abacus and its instructions. Addition and subtraction were easily understood, but the division mnemonic and the commercial nine formula, even without the abacus, far surpassed the calculation abilities of the era.

Wang Cai-nian was clearly a learned man. Arithmetic was highly valued; works like "Nine Chapters," "Five Officials," "Sea Islands," "Zhang Qiu-jian," "Xia Hou-yang," "Zhou Bi," "Gathering the Ancient," "Records of the Unusual," "Three Grades of Numbers," and "Linked Techniques" were all required in the Imperial Academy's mathematics curriculum.

After a while, Wang Cai-nian said, "If I might be so bold, may I pose a few questions for Your Highness to demonstrate?"

Of the three imperial messengers, this eunuch was the most easygoing—not out of his own nature, but because of the shifting winds above.

"Please."

He posed several questions—what difficulty could there be? Naturally, Wang Cai-nian would not ask him to calculate pi to ten decimal places. After a brief explanation, the abacus beads clattered, and the answer appeared.

"This is a great benefit," Wang Cai-nian remarked with admiration.

But Li Wei was not entirely pleased; he feared that too great a reputation would threaten the throne. He quickly said, "This is but a minor skill. Governing the realm is the great task. In these years of disaster, under my imperial parents' rule, the people have no complaints. They are my true models."

If Wei Siwen could say such things, so could Li Wei.

Wang Cai-nian was even more delighted, saying, "Your Highness's compassion and filial piety are rare throughout history. I will certainly carry your sentiments to Luoyang."

"Your humility and dedication, Wang, shall be remembered by me always."

With that, the two exchanged a knowing smile. Wang Cai-nian then bowed and said, "Your Highness, with so little time before the plowing ceremony, I must not delay you further. Farewell."

After sending off Wang Cai-nian, Li Wei hurried to the Hall of Prolonged Enlightenment.

Dai Zhizhi and the others were both joyful and troubled upon hearing the news.

Most of this group held posts in the Eastern Palace. Imperial power struggles were not a great problem; if the transition of power proceeded smoothly, it would be to their benefit. Whether the transition could succeed rested on the Crown Prince's conduct and the Emperor's attitude. That the Emperor now entrusted the Crown Prince with the plowing and the Grand Rain Ceremony marked the first step in the transfer of power. Though small, it was far more substantive than mere supervision.

Their anxiety lay in how to conduct the ceremonies. The plowing was manageable, but time was short. The Grand Rain Ceremony was intricate, especially in a year of drought; sincerity and frugality were both demanded. How could both be achieved? It sounded contradictory, yet it was reality.

Since Emperor Li Zhi ascended the throne, he had waged several large wars, yet governed with caution, earning his reign the title "Little Zhenguan." The treasury remained healthy, but even the best foundations could not withstand years of relentless disaster. Xue Rengui's defeat at Dafeichuan made matters worse. There was little money left in the treasury, and whatever remained was to be saved against further drought.

He had no choice but to summon the leading officials. Only the most senior were admitted; junior censors like Li Qiao were not qualified to enter.

No one had a perfect solution, but one thing was clear: the plowing ceremony must be arranged without delay. It did not require much.

The Grand Rain Ceremony would have to be planned slowly.

But all the officials began to treat Li Wei with particular caution. Yang Sijian was among them; he looked at Li Wei several times as if wanting to speak, but Li Wei only shook his head and pretended not to notice. After the meeting, Li Wei returned to his studies. His parents were delegating more power—he must be careful not to accept it all too readily.

"Tired," he sighed, returning from the Imperial Library, watching the flowers bloom along the way.

Though he grumbled, his mood was good. Even the fading plum blossoms by the roadside seemed resplendent and beautiful.

...

The news that the Crown Prince would preside over the plowing and Grand Rain Ceremony in the Emperor's stead soon spread.

The common people were delighted—such a benevolent Crown Prince.

But when Helan Minzhi heard of it, his face darkened. He swept several teacups from the table and shouted at the serving maids, "Out! Out! Out!"

The maids hurried away.

Zhang Bangyan said, "My lord, may I speak frankly?"

"Speak."

"The Crown Prince is recovering his health, and Their Majesties' attitude toward him is changing. Though this is merely a ceremony, it shows that his advice to have the princesses marry did not affect Their Majesties' opinion of him. There may still be displeasure, but His Majesty is not as autocratic as Emperor Wu of Han. Now, as the Empress's kinsman, you should seek harmony with the Crown Prince; only then will the Empress see you as magnanimous. There is no need for enmity. Besides, you are already a Duke..."

The unspoken implication: no matter what you do, you are only a Duke. Without great merit, will you ever be made a Prince, or replace the Crown Prince?

"What nonsense! You know what stands between the Crown Prince and me. If he comes to power, I'll have no peace! Get out, you too!"

Zhang Bangyan, terrified, withdrew, muttering as he went, "Driven mad by paranoia!"

No, I must find a way out, or I won't even know how I die in the end.

He gazed in the direction of the Eastern Palace...

Lost in thought, the day faded toward dusk. The grand buildings of Chang'an blurred into the twilight. Suddenly a servant approached, saying, "My lord, please."

He had no choice but to go in. Besides himself, several of Helan Minzhi's close advisors were present. Helan Minzhi announced, "I've thought of a good plan."

He explained his scheme. From a narrow perspective, it was indeed clever, and immediately a chorus of flattery arose. Helan Minzhi laughed triumphantly...