Chapter 44: The Strategist Surpasses the Sages of Old

Han Chaozong, then serving as Prefect of Jingzhao, had already reached the twilight of his political career. Barring unforeseen circumstances, it was certain he would not be assigned to another post outside the capital. He regarded his tenure as Prefect as the final chapter of his governance, and so he was determined to fulfill his duty with utmost excellence.

“Where to, Prefect?” the escorting soldier asked respectfully.

“To Xuanping Ward, the residence of He Zhizhang, Guest of the Crown Prince,” Han Chaozong replied.

With the soldier’s assistance, he mounted his horse. This was the Tang dynasty, after all—sedan chairs were reserved for women; officials, whether civil or military, rode horses or traveled by carriage. As Han Chaozong settled onto his horse, a gust of dust swept past, tinting his beard and hair a faint yellow. While others shielded their faces with their sleeves, he remained unmoved.

He uttered a word softly and spurred his horse forward.

As he rode, Han Chaozong reflected on the invitation he was about to honor. Owing to his advanced age, He Zhizhang had become engrossed in Daoist pursuits over recent years, holding now only the nominal post of Guest of the Crown Prince. Yet, because of He Zhizhang’s close relationship with Li Shizhi, Han Chaozong regarded him as an ally.

“Today, he suddenly invites me, claiming to have acquired fine wine… But why invite me, not the Left Chancellor?”

Han Chaozong’s thoughts drifted to the visit from Li Zha, son of the Left Chancellor, just the day before. Persuaded by Lu Qi, Li Zha had decided that Ye Chang’s ambition needed to be checked—that he should encounter some setbacks to appreciate the subtlety of power, and thus, become more pliable in the future. Thus, there was an intent to obstruct Ye Chang’s ball game. Of course, Li Zha had presented only high-minded reasons before Han Chaozong, claiming that with the canal project causing unrest in the city, such boisterous gatherings should be prohibited. He cited the unruly crowd, who under the guise of games and amusements, might incite trouble and ought, for the time being, to be curbed.

Han Chaozong found himself in agreement. The canal project inevitably involved demolition and resettlement, with tangled interests at stake—especially troublesome within the capital. It would be all too easy for someone to stir up trouble behind the scenes, forcing him from office and allowing their own faction to take his place.

The Right Chancellor, Li Linfu, was no easy adversary. Only Li Shizhi, with his blunt nature, failed to be wary; Han Chaozong, for his part, was always cautious.

Li Zha had especially warned him that, given He Zhizhang’s advanced age, he might be persuaded by others to plead on someone’s behalf, and that Han Chaozong should be vigilant. If the instigators were certain cunning city dwellers, Han Chaozong might find himself implicated.

Sure enough, the next day He Zhizhang invited him for a visit after office hours, claiming to have acquired a fine batch of Sanle liquor, but Han Chaozong was certain there was another matter at hand. This left him uneasy—on one side, Li Linfu’s faction eyed him like a tiger; on the other, such troubles emerged within his own circle!

“Your visit honors this humble abode,” He Zhizhang greeted him with a warm laugh as Han Chaozong collected his thoughts.

“Master He, you flatter me. Your home is ever filled with distinguished guests. That I am invited is my good fortune,” Han Chaozong replied.

Polite small talk served both as courtesy and as a means to draw closer. After a few exchanges, He Zhizhang began introducing his companions. First was Yan Zhenqing, whom Han Chaozong already knew and thus acknowledged with a nod. The next was Ye Chang—young, without rank or title. If Han Chaozong hadn’t known of He Zhizhang’s penchant for supporting young talent, he would have suspected Ye Chang was a young relative.

“Please, sit!” He Zhizhang invited.

They were ushered not indoors but to a shaded corner of the courtyard, perhaps because of the stifling summer heat. As Han Chaozong sat down, he exclaimed in surprise, “Master He, what is this ground?”

“Heh, this is precisely why I invited you here,” He Zhizhang replied with a smile.

Han Chaozong immediately sensed something unusual underfoot. It resembled paving bricks, yet was a single smooth slab; it seemed like stone, but lacked the heaviness and hardness of stone. The ground had been washed, making it clean and, shaded by trees, pleasantly cool.

He removed his shoes and, in his socks, paced back and forth. Looking up, he asked, “What is this, Master He? Is this why you summoned me?”

“Let our young friend Ye explain,” He Zhizhang said with a grin.

Han Chaozong turned to Ye Chang. The young man was striking—not just handsome, but with an air of transcendence. In Han Chaozong’s memory, only one other—or perhaps half another—had exuded such a presence: Li Mi, and, in part, Li Bai.

He regarded Li Mi with awe for his precocity, and Li Bai with regret for his wasted potential.

“Prefect Han, I am but a rustic who has come to Chang’an on business,” Ye Chang began, not directly answering, but instead offering a preamble. “Chang’an truly deserves its reputation as the capital of our Great Tang. If Zhang Heng and Zuo Si were alive, they would find themselves at a loss to capture the splendor of our twin capitals and three metropolises.”

Zhang Heng of the Eastern Han and Zuo Si of the Jin dynasty were famed for their rhapsodies on the great cities of their time. Yet compared to the Tang capital of Chang’an, their metropolises paled. Hearing this, Han Chaozong remained impassive but secretly judged Ye Chang as given to grandiloquence.

This was by no means a compliment.

Ye Chang continued, “Yet I have discovered one regret in Chang’an, long unaddressed—the problem of the roads. In dry weather, dust rises and chokes; in rain, water pools and causes flooding. The root is that the roads are only paved with earth—however often they are patched, the problem remains unsolved.”

At this, Han Chaozong’s brows twitched; his estimation of Ye Chang improved. The roads of Chang’an were indeed a persistent headache, as he well knew. Since taking office, he had reviewed the records and was aware that dust and flooding caused injuries nearly every year, with major floods recurring every few years, resulting in significant casualties.

“So, you propose paving Chang’an’s streets with this material?” Han Chaozong finally asked.

“Exactly. I am aware of your concern: the cost must be high and the court cannot bear it. But I believe that, although the initial expense is great, the ongoing maintenance is far less than that of earth roads, and the convenience far surpasses them. Considering total costs, this material is more economical in the end.”

At this point, He Zhizhang interjected, “Do you know how much it cost to pave this half of my courtyard, Prefect?”

“Please enlighten me,” Han Chaozong replied, glancing again at the paved area.

“If we speak only of materials, it was less than five wen,” He Zhizhang said with a laugh.

The price astonished Han Chaozong, who had assumed paving half the courtyard would cost at least several dozen wen; five wen was a trifle!

“If used on a large scale, the cost would be even lower, since the materials themselves are cheap. Labor, however, cannot be ignored. I inquired about the wages of masons in Chang’an and estimated that, for Zhuque Avenue, paving each zhang would cost about two strings of cash, materials and labor included.”

“Two strings?”

“Yes, that includes everything.”

Han Chaozong fell silent, calculating. Zhuque Avenue was seventeen hundred zhang long; at two strings per zhang, the total would be thirty-four hundred strings. The imperial treasury’s annual income was about three million strings, but with the emperor’s extravagance, heavy garrisons, and official salaries, the budget was already strained. And that was just one avenue; Chang’an had nine main north-south thoroughfares, many longer than Zhuque Avenue, and the total cost for these would exceed thirty thousand strings. Including cross streets and alleys, the total might approach one hundred thousand strings.

The treasury could afford it, but at the expense of other needs.

“Still too expensive,” Han Chaozong sighed.

Ye Chang, however, only smiled without speaking. This made Yan Zhenqing anxious—he knew Ye Chang’s real purpose was to offer the cement technique in exchange for Han Chaozong’s support for the football match. But with the proposal apparently dismissed, why did Ye Chang remain silent?

“Do you have a further clever plan?” Han Chaozong pressed.

“What you truly worry about, Prefect, is not the cost, but that the treasury cannot spare the funds at present. This year the court is reopening the canal for Shandong grain shipments, led by Lord Wei. You yourself wish to improve the Yu River channel to facilitate timber transport from the southern mountains into the city. Both projects are costly, so you have no wish to undertake roadworks—is that not so?”

“That is correct,” Han Chaozong nodded.

Both projects demanded immense resources, and the treasury already suffered from deficits. Han Chaozong was acutely aware: he would not spend further money on roads—Chang’an’s people had endured dust for years; they could endure a little longer.

Ye Chang went on, “Prefect, do you feel that financial strain prevents many beneficial projects from being carried out?”

“I do.”

“And Prefect, do you think that this cement, besides paving roads, could be used for private courtyards, or even to replace tiles in homes?”

Han Chaozong was puzzled. “Speak plainly.”

“Currently, only I know the formula. It is simple, but if the court wished to control it, few in Chang’an would dare use it. But if the court does not restrict, and instead encourages its use—for instance, requiring that for every unit paved at home, one must also pave a unit on the street…”

“Hiss!”

Even He Zhizhang, in his old age, drew a sharp breath at this.

Ye Chang continued, “Those who can afford to pave their homes with four or five strings of cash will not begrudge another sum to pave the street. If you demanded a donation, they would resent it as an exaction; but if they themselves wish to purchase it?”

“For example, if His Majesty were to say that, in reward for their efforts, officials may buy this material at cost to improve their homes, the wealthy families of the city would flock to follow suit, all eager to obtain it. Initially, if its sale is controlled—sold only by the Prefecture at a price just above cost—then for every unit households pave, they also pay for a unit for the public roads.”

Ye Chang described the ideal scenario; in practice, wastage and bureaucratic graft would lessen the effect. But the idea was sound: there were at least ten thousand wealthy households in Chang’an, and if each paid two strings to pave their homes, they would pay the same amount to the authorities—enough, in short order, to fund the repair of all the city’s roads.

“This youth is a master of finance—a true administrator!” Han Chaozong’s gaze toward Ye Chang changed again.

He understood that if this plan were presented to Emperor Li Longji, it would surely be approved. It was neither a new tax nor a usurpation of anyone’s power, and would enrich the treasury—a rare thing, with almost no opposition in court!

Even Han Chaozong, though he found Ye Chang’s plan rather cunning, could not help but feel elated—a truly excellent proposal! Especially that phrase, “only the Prefecture can sell it”—it meant more power for his office, and what official would ever refuse more power?

“You have rendered great service with this plan. I shall not fail to petition the court for your commendation,” Han Chaozong said, having swiftly understood it all. “Is there anything you desire? Speak freely—if I cannot grant it, Master He is also present!”

He Zhizhang gave a wry smile; he had not expected Ye Chang’s proposal to be so bold—ten thousand wealthy households, and all willingly caught in the net!

Had he known earlier, He Zhizhang would never have introduced Ye Chang to Han Chaozong. “The tallest tree in the forest is the first to be felled.” Ye Chang was only seventeen—just a youth—how could he be drawn into officialdom’s storms?

“I am but a countryman; I need no reward. I only wish to promote the game of football, and hope, three days hence, to hold a match behind Qinglong Temple. To avoid any incidents due to the crowds, I would ask Prefect Han to assign some constables to maintain order.”

For Han Chaozong, responsible for the city, this was a trifling matter—indeed, negligible. Moreover, since Ye Chang requested his own personnel to keep order, he could retain full control, with little risk of mishap. Thus, He Zhizhang, Zhang Xu, Yan Zhenqing, and Ye Chang all assumed Han Chaozong would agree.

A faint smile appeared on Han Chaozong’s face—it was the first time he had smiled at Ye Chang.

Ye Chang smiled as well.

“No,” Han Chaozong said.

His two syllables instantly froze Ye Chang’s smile.

Something… had gone awry, once again.