Chapter Sixty-Four: Night Conversations at Hangu Pass (Part Two)

Tonight's conversation was of utmost importance, for what would be discussed would serve as a guide for their actions in the long days to come—a matter of strategic decision-making, by no means an exaggeration. This was why Li Xian had chosen to meet Li Xian at Hangu Pass, midway on their journey, rather than wait until both had reached Luoyang. Aside from avoiding prying eyes, the greater reason was to unify their thoughts in advance, ensuring their steps remained in harmony and thus avoiding unnecessary troubles. Clearly, between the two, Li Xian would be the one to appear in public, and the focus of his upcoming duties was naturally the crux of tonight’s talks.

In this contest for succession, Li Xian had chosen the right side. By all reason and sentiment, whether the Empress Wu liked him or not, she would have to show her favor. In Li Xian’s view, this favor was almost certain to come in the form of the right to participate in government affairs—a reward for his support, but more importantly, a means to weaken the crown prince’s authority, letting the brothers freely contend, so she might profit from their rivalry. Regardless of her ulterior motives, it was nearly certain that Li Xian would soon be endowed with power. Thus, the choices he made would affect not only himself but inevitably pull Li Xian into the fray, unless Li Xian abandoned his established strategy of staying behind the scenes—a prospect quite unrealistic, at least until he could form a complete entourage. For now, he must continue to present himself as a loyal follower at Li Xian’s side. Under such circumstances, the point at which Li Xian entered the court became the most crucial issue.

The Ministry of Revenue was a sound choice. If Li Xian himself were to select, he might well have made the same—governmental affairs revolved around the Six Ministries, and to accomplish anything substantive, one had to start there. Yet, the Ministry of Personnel and the Ministry of War were the foundations of the court—no place for a prince to meddle. The Ministry of Rites dealt in ceremony, offering little opportunity. The Ministry of Justice’s work was tedious and unlikely to yield distinction. As for the Ministry of Works, achievements here were hard-won, and without mastery of technical arts, one could scarcely hope for remarkable results—a feat clearly beyond Li Xian, though perhaps Li Xian might have managed. Thus, after careful calculation, only the Ministry of Revenue seemed suitable for Li Xian to make his mark. The problem lay in his chosen target: the grain transport system, which was a dauntingly ambitious undertaking.

Guanzhong was famed for its fertile lands, and during the Qin and Han dynasties, it was the empire’s granary. Yet, its prosperity had brought repeated devastation by war. With successive dynasties setting their capitals there since Qin, construction flourished, inevitably reducing vegetation, causing severe soil erosion, and impoverishing the land. Yields were far below those of earlier times. Moreover, the Tang dynasty maintained a Guanzhong-centric policy, leading to a rapid population increase and straining land resources. During the Zhenguan era, the situation could still be managed, but by the Xianqing period, the land distribution system in Guanzhong was virtually defunct; the court could no longer grant new fields to the growing population, and grain shortages worsened. Large quantities of grain had to be transferred from the south to barely sustain the capital, giving rise to the grain transport system. Yet, the difficulties and obstacles were immense. Even with the Grand Canal built by Emperor Yang of Sui providing a solid foundation, transporting a single pound of rice from Jiangnan to the capital increased costs nearly tenfold, and timely supply was impossible. It was a constant headache for the court. In earlier years, Emperor Gaozong had raised the issue repeatedly at court to seek solutions, but little progress was made, and it was shelved. In fact, Gaozong’s frequent residence in Luoyang had an underlying motive: to secure food.

Should Li Xian truly solve the grain transport issue, he would earn immense merit and seize control of the entire Ministry of Revenue, even extending his influence into the Ministry of Works. The benefits were vast. Yet Li Xian doubted Li Xian’s ability to achieve such a feat, for the obstacles were numerous and complex, beyond the reach of even seasoned officials, let alone a newcomer to government like Li Xian. Li Xian remembered well that, in a previous life, when Li Xian became crown prince, he enthusiastically took charge of grain transport himself. The result was heavy expenditure with mediocre outcomes, damaging his reputation and ultimately leading to Empress Wu justifiably stripping him of governing authority, sowing the seeds of his eventual downfall.

“Sixth Brother’s ambition fills me with admiration, yet the matter of grain transport is so vast that results cannot be achieved overnight. In my humble opinion, as you first enter the court, you should seek achievements that are immediate and visible. Though grain transport is important, it is not urgent. It might be better to postpone it and act later. This is merely my modest view, and I ask Sixth Brother to consider it.” Li Xian’s own foundations were not yet secure, and he did not wish Li Xian to stumble by choosing the wrong point of entry. Yet, knowing Li Xian’s stubborn nature, he could not speak too harshly. After a quick turn of thought, he gently and tactfully advised.

“Well, Seventh Brother’s words are reasonable, but I believe that without tackling difficult issues, one cannot win the people’s respect. With the grain transport system half in ruin, now is the time to make achievements. If I can straighten it out, nothing would surpass such merit. Despite countless difficulties, what do we have to fear? Will you lend me your support, Seventh Brother?” Clearly, Li Xian had long considered using grain transport as his breakthrough and was confident in his plans, not accepting Li Xian’s opinion. His words were passionate and stirring, leaving Li Xian all the more troubled.

“How does Sixth Brother intend to proceed?”

Hearing Li Xian’s tone, Li Xian knew matters were getting serious and felt a growing anxiety. Yet he could not openly refute him, so he decided to hear the plan before making any objections.

“Please see, Seventh Brother!”

Li Xian had evidently prepared thoroughly. Upon Li Xian’s inquiry, he immediately shook out his wide sleeve and produced a silk scroll, spreading it across the table—a detailed map of the waterways, marking the Yangtze, Huai, Grand Canal, and even the Wei and Ba rivers in Guanzhong, as well as many other rivers large and small. To Li Xian’s eye, the map was not entirely accurate, but its intent was clear, revealing the extent of Li Xian’s investment in the grain transport issue.

“Sixth Brother, is this a hydrological chart?” Though Li Xian knew full well, he deliberately asked.

“Indeed, it is. For the sake of grain transport, I dispatched many men to collect and compile such information, and was fortunate to acquire this chart—better even than what’s kept in the Hongwen Academy. With this as a guide, how could anything be impossible!” Li Xian caught the look of surprise on Li Xian’s face, feeling greatly satisfied, and laughed heartily, waving his hand in a gesture of grandeur.

The hydrological chart was certainly crucial; without it, managing grain transport would be a fantasy. But to claim that its possession would ensure success was an exaggeration, at least in Li Xian’s view. Yet, seeing his companion so filled with heroic enthusiasm, Li Xian could not dampen his spirits, and so smiled and said, “Sixth Brother’s wisdom far surpasses mine. With this chart to aid us, the task will be much easier. Yet the matter is vast and requires detailed planning. Has Sixth Brother made any arrangements?”

“Even without your asking, Seventh Brother, I would have explained. Look: our dynasty’s grain production is mostly from Jianghuai. If we take Jiangdu (now Yangzhou) as a central point, grain ships can travel north along the canal, passing through Huai, Yellow, Bian, and Ji rivers to reach Shanzhou, then by the Wei to the capital. There are four major obstacles along the water route: first, severe siltation in the Guangtong Canal, which must be reopened; second, the Bian Canal, prone to silt due to the Yellow River’s sand, requires dedicated officials for maintenance; third, the treacherous rock formations at Sanmen, making upstream navigation difficult and causing frequent accidents, thus a new canal must be opened; fourth…” Li Xian paused noticeably, then continued, “Fourth, the existing grain transport officials are corrupt and unusable, and must be replaced. If these four points are addressed, grain transport will flow smoothly!”

Li Xian’s points were accurate, though not comprehensive, but generally acceptable. The issue was that grain transport was easy to discuss, hard to execute. Good ideas alone would not guarantee success—especially with Li Xian’s approach of overturning everything and starting anew. The implementation would require immense manpower and resources, and take a staggering amount of time. If Li Xian were emperor, resolutely pursuing this, success might be possible. But he was not emperor, not even crown prince—just a prince. To undertake such a vast project would exceed his capacity. More than that, if a mishap occurred in managing grain transport, would Li Hong sit idly by? Certainly not. Li Xian lacked Empress Wu’s absolute trust—how could he contend with Li Hong in court? If attacked, he would surely lose everything. At best, he might be sent into exile; at worst, his rank could be stripped. If Li Xian followed him, the consequences were easy to imagine.

“Has Sixth Brother calculated how much time, manpower, and resources would be needed to complete the grain transport project?” After hearing Li Xian’s exposition, Li Xian, though unconvinced, did not immediately object. He pondered for a moment, then cautiously asked.

“If manpower and resources are sufficient, it could be accomplished in three years. Do you believe it, Seventh Brother?” Li Xian knew grain transport was no easy task, but focused mainly on the overall plan, rarely considering the details. When Li Xian asked, he felt a bit uncertain, but did not wish to appear lacking, so replied with a rhetorical question.

Three years? That’s a wild boast, and you probably haven’t seriously calculated the costs—just empty talk! Li Xian spoke with conviction, but to Li Xian it was almost comical, leaving him at a loss for how to point out the flaws without hurting his pride. His brows furrowed slightly…