Chapter Thirty-Seven: A Solitary Excursion, The Merchant’s Ritual

The daylight gradually lengthened, yet time still flew swiftly by.

After studying the map for a while and reading a book for a bit, he headed to the archery hall to shoot some arrows, wandered around for a time, and then rode a horse briefly. Soon, the western sky was brushed with purple and crimson clouds, the sun struggling weakly, rising and falling, finally sinking little by little beneath the shadows cast by the palace’s many towers.

Once the court ladies had cleared the dining table, Li Xian and the other three entered.

Journey to the West was a long tale, but he remembered it well and recounted it in detail. On this evening, he only managed to reach the episode of Red Boy.

If Children of Heroes was the first great novel of this world, then Journey to the West was truly captivating—especially since the Tang Monk had only recently passed away and his immense influence lingered on. By now, the story had already been spread from the mouths of Li Lingyue throughout the Hongwen Institute. First, the children repeated it, then the adults. Yet the channels of transmission were somewhat awry: Li Lingyue’s version was scattered and incomplete, and as other youths made their own modifications, the tale became almost unrecognizable.

Thus, Journey to the West had become a grand feast, enjoyed each night by the three Li brothers, Li Lingyue, and even the inner palace. Every evening they eagerly anticipated a new installment from Li Wei.

After finishing a segment, Li Wei said, “That’s all for today.”

This had become a set rule, and Li Lingyue’s protests had always been in vain. Li Xian said, “Elder Brother, shall we go out to the countryside for an outing tomorrow?”

Besides the cold foods eaten for the Cold Food Festival, there were other customs: tomb-sweeping, cockfighting, rug-beating, tug-of-war. If one truly didn’t want to leave the house, one could always play on the swings. But another popular activity was to go on an outing in the countryside.

“I was planning to go for a stroll tomorrow as well.”

“Perfect, then.”

“Third Brother, that won’t do—we can’t all go together tomorrow.”

“Why not?”

“My outing tomorrow is just a pretext; I’ll actually be inspecting the farmers’ spring plowing outside the city. The Cold Food Festival comes but once a year. If you all follow in my wake, it would dampen the mood. Why not go out on your own? But Second Brother and Third Brother, be sure to keep a close eye on Fourth Brother and our little sister.”

“No, we want to go with you!” Li Lingyue protested.

“Haven’t you already suffered enough at the plowing ritual?” he asked.

Recalling the tedium and dullness of the field ceremony, Li Lingyue fell silent. Li Xian opened his mouth, then closed it again, equally wordless. Among the group, he was the least inclined to speak. The eldest was going out to inspect the people’s affairs—he was the crown prince, acting as regent; it was only right. What business did he have inspecting the people? Did he hope to unseat his older brother?

Li Wei continued, “But I’ve prepared a gift for you all.”

He clapped his hands, and the maids brought out four large paper kites. For Li Lingyue, a vibrant and beautiful butterfly; for Li Xulun, a large blue dragonfly; for Li Xian, a fierce general; and for Li Xian, a scholar with flowing sleeves.

Li Lingyue and Li Xulun were delighted, while Li Xian could only laugh with embarrassment—he was hardly a child anymore, and felt awkward holding the kite in his hand, not knowing whether to accept it or not.

After the four had left, Biyer asked, “Shall we invite the young Lady Yang to join us?”

The Crown Princess, the future Empress, ought to know the people’s circumstances—a joint excursion would not be inappropriate. Li Wei considered it, then said, “Let’s not.”

Though Biyer’s suggestion was well-meant, Yang Min was still young, her days meant for enjoyment. There was no need to saddle her with such burdens of state at this age. He added, “As long as you are with me, that is enough.”

“But I am only a palace maid. It hardly seems right.”

“Why think so? A lotus, even in the mud, blooms pure and flawless. A blade of wild grass, even in the palace, remains a weed. You may be a palace maid, but to me, you are my dearest Biyer.”

“Your Highness, I dare not. In truth, if I can hold just a sliver—” She extended her pinky, but thinking it improper, pinched it smaller with her left hand, saying, “If I can occupy just this much of your heart, I am satisfied.”

“No, if you want a metaphor, if you occupy a place, it’s this one.” Li Wei held up his thumb.

Looking at the conspicuous thumb, Biyer lowered her head, saying, “I truly dare not.”

At that moment, Liu Qun entered.

She reported, “Your Highness, I have brought word of the workshop’s situation.”

“Speak,” Li Wei said at once. This was his little treasury.

“Yesterday, as we only opened for half a day, business picked up in the afternoon. We sold a total of ninety-seven thousand, one hundred and twelve coins. Today was even better, with sales of around one hundred and thirty-six thousand, two hundred coins.”

In other words, yesterday’s sales reached ninety-seven strings of cash; today’s, one hundred and thirty-six. This was roughly in line with Li Wei’s estimates. Yesterday, with the grand opening and high prices, there may not have been any profit, but today’s results were considerable—even after subtracting costs, the profit was more than half. Of course, the greater the sales, the lower the costs, and vice versa.

Such sales were not necessarily the best in all of Chang’an’s wards, but certainly among the top. During the Tang, commercial taxes were not a great burden—aside from market and customs taxes, things were relatively easy. However, this did not mean merchants had it easy; their low status meant that once profit was seen, all sorts would reach out their hands. Even officials would use “guilds” to openly squeeze the workshops. The proceeds, of course, went into officials’ pockets, not the state treasury.

Here, Li Wei’s status became crucial. He did not appear openly, but those who tried to interfere would check the background. Once they found Biyer’s connection, most would back off. In the future, some reckless souls might try, but again, Li Wei would not need to intervene; someone would handle it quietly on his behalf. After all, they were not on the same level. Even Biyer stood above the minor market officials, so profits were high. Yet the future was uncertain—perhaps the business would grow, or perhaps, if it stagnated and novelty faded, the high price would become an obvious flaw and sales would dwindle.

He asked, “Has anyone approached for bulk trade?”

“Yes, Your Highness. A fruit shop in the Western Market wishes to purchase a batch for resale, but finds the price too high and is only willing to pay one coin per piece. Manager Jiang dared not decide and sent me to consult you.”

Merchants were indeed quick to act. Li Wei considered: the Western and Eastern Markets were far apart. A new outlet in the West would affect the East’s sales, but not greatly. Even at half price, there was still profit. That was business—start high, settle low. Besides, after the purchase, there were taxes and labor. Bargaining was only natural. Even at one coin per piece, profit remained.

He replied, “Tell them that since they’ll manage sales, let them decide. But one condition: all customers must be clearly informed that the product is high in sugar and does not keep long. Make that clear. In fact, display it openly to see how long it lasts.”

The Western Market was manageable, but if it was outsiders, not making things clear would only bring trouble.

He continued, “Or perhaps provide larger pieces, let buyers cut as they wish. Also, remind them to see if there are any clever lads in the workshop worth training.”

Liu Qun hesitated.

Li Wei said, “This is just the beginning. For instance, the profits from this workshop, given the refugees, may seem much, but will be used for relief. The business will grow; I’ve already devised a new sugar method from India, and with the new paper, another workshop will start. Your brother and Biyer’s family cannot manage it all.”

“But outsiders are always a concern.”

“Observe their character. Besides, with me as a silent backer, even if they have ambitions, they’ll think twice.”

“Very well, Your Highness. I’ll inform them tomorrow. There’s another matter: that foreigner asked me to tell you—he, together with the wealthy Zou Fengchi and the honored Liang Jinzhu, whom Your Highness has praised, have gathered over a hundred wealthy merchants to hold a grand Buddhist ritual and donate money and grain to the refugees.”

“Zou Fengchi?”

“Your Highness, have you forgotten him? He lives east of the South Gate of Huaide Ward, and his wealth is beyond measure. When his daughter married, he invited all the court officials, and thousands of guests attended. The banquet was lavish. When his daughter departed, hundreds of maids, adorned in pearls and brocades, accompanied her. None could tell who was the bride. Last winter, he petitioned His Majesty to purchase trees from Mount Zhongnan, offering one bolt of silk per tree. His Majesty was astounded. Zou replied, ‘Even if all the trees of Zhongnan are gone, my silk is not yet exhausted.’”

So there was such a man? Li Wei could not help but wipe his brow. This merchant was truly formidable.

“Yes, Your Highness, you once raged upon hearing of it in the Eastern Palace,” Biyer said.

“And what happened?”

“Mount Zhongnan is sacred to the state and a shield for the capital. No matter how rich Zou Fengchi is or how strained the treasury, His Majesty would never sell all the mountain’s trees. The matter went nowhere, but the story spread far and wide. Yet, for all his arrogance, the gentry said nothing.”

What of it, Li Wei thought. Even if sold, could he cut down all the trees, haul them to Chang’an, and find space to store them— not just in his residence, but even in all of Huaide Ward? This man was truly ostentatious. Yet, no matter how wealthy, even with endless bolts of silk, he could not buy every tree on Zhongnan. Still, to make such boasts, his fortune must be at least hundreds of thousands, perhaps at the level of a Shen Wansan.

If these men organized a great charitable event, countless people could be aided, and tens of thousands of strings of cash might be raised.

Li Wei said, “Tell him I support their great Buddhist ritual, but, wary of the censors, I cannot appear in person.”

He then realized that this response to Hu Ying was but an empty promise; nothing else had been offered, which seemed unfair. He added, “Take my card and invite Master Kuiji to the palace for a discussion.”

Master Kuiji, a disciple of the Tang Monk and son of General Yuchi Jingde, was renowned throughout Chang’an. If he presided over the ritual, it would be perfect and grant great honor to Hu Ying and Zou Fengchi. Yet, Kuiji himself might not agree—merchants had a poor reputation.

“Your Highness, it’s inadvisable. Master Kuiji resides at Ci’en Temple. It’s too late to summon him now.”

Li Wei thought for a moment. “True. When I return from my outing, I’ll visit Master Kuiji myself.”

These eminent monks, once famous, were quite proud—though in a different way from Zou Fengchi. If the emperor summoned them, they might come, but for him, the crown prince, perhaps not. And to preside over a ritual for a group of merchants—they might refuse. Better to visit personally and show sincerity.

...

Night deepened. Li Wei lay in bed, lost in thought.

If he grew too close to the ministers, his parents might take notice. But associating with these lesser folk should not be too much.

Yet these so-called lesser folk were not to be underestimated. Even those skilled in petty tricks could accomplish great things, and they were easier to win over.

He thought of another matter: if this great ritual succeeded and raised much money, it might tempt his parents. In these straitened times, it would be a timely boon. Perhaps, with some persuasion, Hu Ying might even be granted an official post.

The court’s attitude toward non-Chinese was always more tolerant—especially regarding those who conducted trade abroad. Foreigners did not understand ritual, so expectations were lower. Thus, even as merchants, if they were given some insignificant post, it would not be difficult. Yet, for these merchants, official recognition was immensely valuable. It would be a great surprise for Hu Ying.

However, it would be better not to act personally—better to prompt some minister to submit a memorial.

Lost in these thoughts, he drifted off to sleep. Soon, a new day would dawn—what might happen then? And on this night, at last, the curtain was slowly rising...

PS: Tomorrow there will be a major update. If you enjoy the story, I hope you’ll cast a vote for me at Sanjiang. If tomorrow’s results are good, I’ll add yet another chapter in thanks.