Chapter Thirty-Two: The Truth of History—Gains and Losses at Sea

The workshop was filled with the mingled scents of milk, sugar, and bone. Six sturdy men had been hired as long-term laborers. With refugees everywhere in the city, hiring workers had become easier. In addition to this workshop, there was also a shop managed by Liu Qun’s elder brother and two literate clerks. However, since the milk candy was not yet ready, they too had come to help, while still keeping an eye on a modest workshop in the southern part of the city. There, a single worker watched over the retting of bamboo—monitoring its decomposition and topping up the water as needed. The time for mass labor was yet to come.

Life for these two families was exceedingly harsh; the old social order of scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants had all but collapsed, with commerce regarded as a lowly profession by custom.

As the sun drifted westward, some refugees from Chang’an began to trickle out of the city, while others on the outskirts slowly moved further afield. Spring was deepening, and as the season for plowing approached, many were returning to their homelands, hoping that Heaven would show mercy and grant them a good harvest for the autumn.

One by one, silent figures scattered along the roads, bathed in the golden afterglow of the setting sun. Clad in rags, leading their children by the hand, there was a tragic grandeur to their plight.

Bier’s mother and her two daughters-in-law entered awkwardly, food boxes in hand, and called out loudly, “Meal time!”

Everyone put down their work and gathered for the meal.

Bier’s father pulled his wife aside and asked, “So, what did you think the Crown Prince looked like?”

“Eldest, you’ve asked me so many times now. He’s just an ordinary person.”

“You silly woman, you can’t say things like that! Even the neighbors know the Crown Prince is a star descended from Heaven, sent to bless our Tang dynasty forever.”

But he truly seemed like an ordinary man, if a bit thin and pale. At least he was courteous and gentle in speech. She hadn’t seen any aura of divinity about him, but she dared not say so. Annoyed, she retorted, “Didn’t you go to see the Crown Prince too? Why ask me?”

“I was too far away to see clearly, wasn’t I?”

Her husband was obsessed, so Bier’s mother simply ignored him. After a few mouthfuls of rice, Old Master Jiang asked, “How is Bier doing now?”

“And only now you think of your daughter?”

Old Master Jiang chuckled and returned to his meal.

At last, Old Lady Jiang could contain herself no longer. “She’s doing very well. I think the Crown Prince is quite fond of her. That silly girl entered the palace as a child, but now she’s finally seeing better days.”

“That’s good.”

After the meal, Old Master Jiang took another look around the workshop and called out, “Back to work! Let’s finish the preparations today, so tomorrow morning we’ll have the goods ready.”

The group, some dozen strong, busied themselves once more.

Soon, the sound of the gong signaled the end of the workday, and Old Master Jiang announced regretfully, “That’s it for today.”

………………………………

The grand banquet had ended. Li Wei, weary to the bone, returned to his chambers.

Liu Qun slipped in, glanced around, and Li Wei waved his hand, dismissing the eunuchs and maids.

Only then did she speak. “Your Highness, the slave belonging to that Sogdian merchant has been found. The manager of Li’s Tavern helped locate her, and I’ve gathered some information.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“The merchant’s name is Hu Ying, and he’s one of the Nine Surnames of Zhaowu.”

“The Nine Surnames of Zhaowu? That’s Kang, An, Shi, Cao, He, Mi, Luo, He, and Shi. How is there a surname Hu?”

“Your Highness, most Zhaowu people do bear those nine surnames, but some Sogdians, admiring Chinese culture, changed their names. There are also smaller tribes mixed in, so there are other surnames as well.”

Li Wei could not be blamed—he’d only been in the Tang dynasty for a little over twenty days. To recall the nine surnames was impressive enough. Liu Qun continued, “Hu Ying’s surname is rare among the Zhaowu, but he’s a wealthy merchant. He’s even personally transported goods as far as the Governorate of Persia—near modern Zabol, Iran.”

Li Wei knew a bit about this.

The rise of the Arabs had been too swift. Persia and other countries had petitioned for annexation, and ten years ago, sixteen states including Persia were reorganized into eight governorates—Persia, Xiefeng, Yuezhi, Xiuxian, Tiaozhi, Kunxuzhou, Kangju, and Gumozhou—divided into seventy-six prefectures and one hundred ten counties, all subordinate to the Anxi Protectorate. This was the Tang dynasty at its greatest extent, reaching almost to the Persian Gulf in the southwest and the Aral Sea in the northwest. But such a vast territory was unsustainable for the empire. Logistics, for instance—without waterways, even getting supplies as far as the Tianshan mountains would exhaust both men and horses, let alone reaching Persia. With the empire in decline and the Arabs pressing in, territory was gradually abandoned.

The Sogdians, especially those with nomadic lifestyles, were hard to govern. The court adopted a policy of mild control, allowing them to travel abroad. Many among the Zhaowu turned from herding to commerce. Yet with Arab encroachment, many Persians fled into the Tang, and, being familiar with both regions, they thrived in business, gradually surpassing their predecessors.

In short, these were the two ethnic groups in Tang China best equipped for transnational trade.

Li Wei nodded. “Any further specifics?”

“I don’t know much more. He has a grand residence in Huaizhen Ward, Chang’an, several wives and concubines—some Sogdian, some Tang, and two Persian girls. He trades not only overland, but also owns two seagoing ships in the south, plying routes between the Arab lands and Guangzhou.”

“Seagoing ships?” Li Wei was confused. Wasn’t long-distance seafaring only possible in the Ming dynasty, with Zheng He? How did Tang China already have sea vessels?

Bier chimed in, “Your Highness, didn’t you discuss this with me before? Have you forgotten?”

Forgotten? He had no recollection at all. “Go on, Bier.”

“It was your Highness who told me. Among ships, those of the Arabs are the best, followed by those from the Lion Kingdom. The countries of the South Seas also have ships, and the Tang have their own vessels as well, privately sailing to Silla and Japan. But maritime risks are high—many ships capsize and lives are lost. Your Highness even denounced this, saying that merchants risked the lives of commoners for profit, which is why the court regards them as the lowest class.”

Her voice faded as she spoke. Since his illness, the Crown Prince no longer held such views; he’d even wept for a merchant in court and arranged for her family to open a workshop.

Yet the more Li Wei heard, the more bewildered he became. Not only was there seafaring, but Tang ships were apparently the worst among them. And the countries of the South Seas—meaning Southeast Asia—were already seafaring and not merely indigenous tribes? Why had he never seen this in history books?

Perhaps it was recorded, just in obscure sources he’d never read.

Liu Qun interjected, “Your Highness is most benevolent to say so. Maritime trade is lucrative, but the risks are real. That Sogdian merchant already lost one ship to a wreck, and another has vanished without a trace. Such things are not worth promoting.”

Wrong! Not only should they be promoted, but encouraged. Yet prevailing moral views prevented Li Wei from saying this aloud.

Liu Qun continued, “The manager of Li’s Tavern introduced me to Hu Ying. The moment he heard the Crown Prince wished to meet, he was delighted and agreed at once. But I took the liberty of making a decision on Your Highness’s behalf.”

“What was that?”

“As a merchant, and a Sogdian at that, I thought it unwise for the Crown Prince to summon him to the Eastern Palace. So I arranged the meeting instead at Li’s Tavern—tomorrow at noon.”

“This is for state affairs.”

“Your Highness may recall that last year, His Majesty commanded the Turkic chieftain’s son to serve under you in the Eastern Palace. Xu Qidan of the Western Secretariat submitted a memorial, urging that the Crown Prince should have only learned and upright men by his side, not barbarians and ruffians. His Majesty agreed. And as for the late Crown Prince Chengqian…”

Li Wei felt a chill. Xu Qidan’s memorial had been instantly approved because of the involvement of his own uncle. Stealing a farmer’s cattle and breaking his leg in a fall was not the worst of Chengqian’s faults—the real issue was cavorting with Sogdians, adopting their language, attire, and customs, drumming and dancing day and night in the Eastern Palace, building great furnaces, and cooking stolen cattle and horses in imitation of the Sogdians, even erecting felt tents and banners with wolf heads.

Li Wei reflected: here he was making milk candy in the Eastern Palace and closing the gates so no one would see. If Chengqian had behaved so, how could Li Shimin have endured it?

“Thank you for the reminder. I was indeed careless.”

“Your Highness, it’s only that you suffered from fever and memory loss. You’ll recover in time. Besides, the milk candy will be ready tomorrow. You can see it for yourself.”

“Oh, so soon?”

“Yes, just in time for the Cold Food Festival. For three days, all officials and citizens will observe a fire ban and eat only cold food. That’s why Jiang Sigui’s father wants to finish the candy before the festival.”

“Very well. Thank Bier’s family and your own brother for me. No, never mind—I’ll go myself tomorrow, meet with Hu Ying, and see them all.”

………………………………

After making his rounds, Li Wei returned to find Li Lingyue waiting at the palace gate.

“Little sister, why aren’t you at your studies again?”

“A story.”

She wanted another story? Li Wei was helpless. Though he was ready to make his escape, he still hoped to remain in his position for a while longer; despite the many constraints, it was better than being a commoner. Besides, his little sister was not only a blood relative, but also a balm for their mother’s temper.

He began with a tale about diligent study, but was interrupted at once.

“This story has already been told by the palace staff—it’s boring.”

So she’d been pestering others in the palace as well. When their mother returned, would his little sister dare hound her for stories? Wu Zetian telling tales—what a thing to look forward to.

Switching tactics, he launched into the story of Snow White: “Once upon a time, in a distant land, the queen died, and the king married a new queen…”

As he walked, he told the story, all the way to the Hongwen Academy.

Inside, the young scholars were already lined up to greet them—such a warm welcome? Li Wei glanced at Li Xulun. The fourth brother hurried over and whispered, “Little sister has been retelling your stories to everyone in the academy.”

So that was the reason. As long as he’d been careful to omit anything unsuitable or subversive, it was harmless enough.

He patted his brother’s head. “You’re the elder brother. Now that your sister is at the academy, you should look after her.”

“Big brother, she doesn’t need my protection. As long as she doesn’t bully others, everyone’s already tiptoeing around her.”

Li Wei rubbed his nose. Was his little sister already the queen bee of the academy?

Not just that—the scholars and doctors were all terrified of her causing any trouble. Her lively nature wore them out, and complaints had already reached Li Jingxuan at the Western Secretariat. Though he held the rank of chancellor, he also bore the title of Scholar of the Hongwen Academy.

Li Jingxuan thought long and hard, finally saying, “Wait.”

Better to wait until the Emperor and Empress returned—let them deal with it. So everyone had to endure for the time being.

Li Wei had nothing to say, shaking his head as he left Li Lingyue at the academy and made his way to the Chancellery. He had a meeting at noon with the Sogdian merchant and needed some background knowledge to avoid embarrassment. He pored over historical records and archives.

What he found astonished him. The Tang dynasty was more open than he’d ever imagined. For instance, in the seventeenth year of the Zhenguan era, envoys from the Byzantine Empire arrived with glass, malachite, and gold. His father, on a whim during the Xianqing era, sent General Qiu Aluo to Byzantium, though the mission may have failed due to distance or negligence. A few years ago, Rome sent envoys to Chang’an again—and the documents clearly recorded “Great Virtue Monks,” or Catholic priests, serving as envoys.

Wasn’t it supposed to be Marco Polo in the Yuan dynasty who started exchanges between China and Europe? No wonder that day Yuda, that young noble, wanted Hu Ying to provide him with some foreign beauties for amusement.

But now, this upcoming meeting intrigued him even more. Foreign women were too sensational for his taste, but Western science—if he could introduce some European knowledge to the Tang, it would broaden horizons. Still, he was curious: as far as he knew, there were no Westerners in Tang China more familiar with them than he was. He knew about blue eyes and red hair, but why did people say they were covered in body hair? That didn’t match what he’d seen in modern films.

Should he bring a few Westerners to the Tang dynasty to see for himself…