Chapter 53: Entering Chang'an with Boundless Wealth

Yang Fu strolled leisurely down the narrow streets of Chongxian Lane, his hands clasped behind his back. Several young attendants from the Prince Consort’s residence followed in his wake, ever ready to serve him. As he walked, Yang Fu cast proud glances around, feeling that he too had become something of a figure in Chang'an.

He was a hereditary servant of Prince Consort Yang Hui. Yang Hui’s mother was a princess, and he himself had also married a princess, enjoying the rare favor of the imperial Tang family—an honor few could claim. There was a saying: even the gatekeeper of a prime minister’s mansion held the rank of seventh degree. After forty years of service, Yang Fu had amassed a considerable fortune. Since he was required to serve within the Princess’s residence, he had purchased, in Chongxian Lane, a two-courtyard house, partitioned off and rented specifically to scholars coming to the capital for the imperial exams or merchant travelers from afar. Each year, these rents brought him dozens, sometimes hundreds, of strings of cash.

Every so often, he would come to inspect his property in Chongxian Lane, checking to see whether the tenants took proper care of the house. Today was such a day.

"Steward, look, they're playing ball!" one of the attendants, seeing that he was in a good mood, suddenly pointed to a group of bare-chested men playing on a vacant lot by the roadside.

"Ah, football—it's the talk of the city these days. I hear they're even organizing a Chang'an League, with Princess Yuzhen and Lady Twenty-Nine backing it from behind the scenes," Yang Fu commented coolly, displaying his knowledge of current affairs.

Football was now the most popular game in Chang'an, as hot as the summer itself. Even the Princess Xianyi's residence had formed two teams from the younger servants, who played daily—one could hardly allow the princess’s household to fall behind in the city’s latest craze. As for the league, rumors had already spread, and with Princess Yuzhen’s name lending its weight, people like Yang Fu dared not yet entertain other ambitions.

At this time, only a handful, like Ye Chang, realized it was a market worth over a hundred thousand strings of cash a year.

"Our own team will of course be in the top league of Chang'an. I hear there will only be twelve teams!" said one attendant.

"Naturally—who else could compete with us?”

“Qiao Lao Qi was great at cuju, now he’s switched to football. People say cuju is for women; real men crash and charge at football.”

Yang Fu listened to their chatter with a smile, considering how he might place his own men on the princess’s football team—a useful way to cement his standing in the household. Just then, he noticed a crowd gathered in front of his two-courtyard property. His brow furrowed.

"Go and see who has the nerve to make trouble at my door," he ordered.

One eager attendant rushed ahead to curry favor. To Yang Fu’s surprise, the lad, upon reaching the front, did not shout or scold but instead craned his neck with a smile. Yang Fu realized at once that he had misjudged—the crowd was not there to cause trouble.

Sure enough, as he drew near, he heard someone speaking in halting Chinese: "I said I will not sublet, and I mean it. I have rented this place, why should I sublet to you?"

It was his tenant, a group of Japanese students. Unable to enroll in the Imperial Academy, they had rented this house and occasionally attended lectures as auditors.

"Sublet it to me. I like this quiet spot and will pay you double. You can use the money to rent another place."

"We do not wish to leave either. We too like it quiet here."

Upon hearing "double the rent," Yang Fu’s face darkened with anger. He pushed through the crowd. "Whether you wish to or not is not for you to decide. I am the owner of this house!"

At his appearance, the neighbors quietly made way. Yang Fu’s reputation in the lane—bolstered by his connection to the princess’s residence—was not a good one.

The Japanese students looked uneasy at his arrival. They had lived in Chang'an since the twenty-first year of the Kaiyuan era, first residing for a year in the Guest House before moving out and renting from Yang Fu. By now, they knew him well—a man whose eyes lit up at the sight of money. If he were a real businessman, he might care a little for his reputation, but Yang Fu was merely seeking extra income and cared nothing for such things.

"If you are willing to pay three times the rent, the house is yours," Yang Fu said, ignoring the Japanese and turning to the other party in the dispute.

At this time, Japan both revered and feared the Tang Empire. Their respectful demeanor had even convinced Emperor Xuanzong Li Longji that Japan was a nation of gentlemanly virtue. Seeing Yang Fu so forceful, the Japanese did not argue further but stood aside, troubled.

The young man competing with the Japanese was of unremarkable appearance but richly dressed, accompanied by several equally well-dressed attendants. He spoke with a Wu accent: "I come from Yangzhou, seeking to make a name for myself in Chang'an in preparation for next year’s examinations. I wish to find a quiet house to study in. Can you make the decision? If so, money is no object!"

A wealthy young gentleman from Yangzhou!

At this, Yang Fu’s eyes lit up. Such spendthrifts were rare; among the scholars coming to sit the exams, only those from Yangzhou or Sichuan would spend so freely.

"Long-term rental?"

"At least until next year’s exams; if I pass, then until the official appointments in October."

"I see you are a man of extraordinary bearing and unique talent—surely destined for high honors!" Yang Fu flattered, though privately he thought, "If this country bumpkin never passes the exams, he’ll keep renting my house forever!"

"Who are you, the owner of this house?" The young man snapped open an ornate folding fan before Yang Fu’s face, making him swallow hard.

It was unmistakably a “Right Army Fan,” worth five strings of cash—a favorite among newly-appointed scholars, also known as the Jinshi Fan. Clearly, this was a man of means, unconcerned at displaying such luxury.

"Yes, yes, I am the owner," Yang Fu replied, dropping all pretense of official airs now that money was involved, even referring to himself as "your humble servant."

"I want this house. Here is a deposit of fifteen strings. Clear out all unrelated persons, and I will move in today. Show me where in Chang'an I can buy good furniture, and clear out all the junk from inside!"

Without even signing a contract, the deposit was already in hand!

Yang Fu was all smiles, barely able to contain his glee. The attendants around him whispered their congratulations—a wealthy guest like this meant a tidy profit for Yang Fu.

"You shall have your rent back; move out at once, and be done within half a day, or I’ll report you to the authorities!" Yang Fu barked at the Japanese students, his tone changing entirely from that he used with the gentleman from Yangzhou. The Japanese had some money, but were miserly compared to the generosity of the young Yangzhou noble. The choice was obvious even to someone with half a mind.

The Japanese students, knowing his position, did not grow angry. Instead, they respectfully bowed. "Thank you for your care these years, Lord Yang. Thank you for allowing us half a day’s time."

The young man from Yangzhou was surprised by their genuine gratitude. "This landlord must be someone special for them to treat him so respectfully," he remarked.

Yang Fu, a little smug, pulled him aside and said, "My surname is Yang, single given name Fu. I am the steward of Princess Xianyi’s residence..."

Upon learning this, the young noble grew solemn and bowed deeply. "A pleasure to meet you, steward of such a noble household!"

"Not at all. These men are Japanese students sent here by their government. They respect me not for my position, but because of Japanese custom. Their respect is reserved only for Tang subjects—if you saw how they treat people from Silla, Annam, or the western regions, you would understand their true nature."

The young noble nodded. "I have seen Japanese in Yangzhou; indeed, their manners are just so."

"If you wish to buy furniture, the West Market is best. I can send someone to escort you there," Yang Fu offered.

"No rush, no rush. I am delighted to make the acquaintance of such an esteemed person as yourself. Where in this quarter is the wine good? Let me host a meal for you."

"May I have your name, young sir?"

"My surname is Wang, given name Qinian, style name Xinzhi," he replied with a smile. "A native of Yangzhou, I have studied hard for ten years and have come to Chang'an in pursuit of fortune and honor."

His candor amused Yang Fu, who laughed loudly. "Your ambitions are high; surely you will achieve wealth and rank. Only promise me you won’t forget this humble man when that day comes."

"A steward to the princess—how can you call yourself humble?" Wang Qinian replied with a click of his tongue.

As the two probed each other's intentions, Yang Fu discerned from Wang Qinian’s remarks that he hoped to gain an introduction to Princess Xianyi.

Chang'an, as the political and cultural heart of the empire, demanded that aspiring scholars make a name for themselves in the city. To gain reputation, one had to “pay respects”—presenting one’s poetry and essays to the mighty in hope of their patronage. If a powerful patron took notice, recommendations would come in waves, drawing attention, votes, and even gifts—some celebrated scholars were even married off to the families of their benefactors.

But to pay such respects required connections. Each year, thousands upon thousands came to the capital hoping for fame. At exam time, the households of the powerful received so many poems and essays they could be sold by the cartful as scrap paper. In this situation, stewards and close attendants of noble households became hot commodities. In past years, Yang Fu had made a tidy sum passing on scholars’ writings to Yang Hui.

Without these side dealings, the wages from the Prince Consort’s residence would never have been enough for him to buy property in a city where land was worth its weight in gold.

Each man harbored his own agenda, yet their conversation grew increasingly congenial. Still, Yang Fu could not linger long outside the Prince Consort’s residence and finally said, "I have business at the manor. If you don’t mind, let us meet again in three days."

"Of course, of course, steward Yang, do as you must!"

Wang Qinian did not press his case. The two parted with hearty laughter. Nevertheless, Yang Fu instructed his men to keep a close watch: every day he heard reports of Wang Qinian spending lavishly at furniture shops or competing in the pleasure quarters. He also heard that Wang Qinian was making inquiries to confirm if Yang Fu truly was steward to the Prince Consort’s residence. This reassured Yang Fu—surely the man would soon come to beg his favor.

Sure enough, three days later, when Yang Fu came again to see Wang Qinian, the latter tentatively broached the subject of introductions. Yang Fu refused sternly. "Though I am a steward at the Prince Consort’s residence and see the prince daily, he has repeatedly forbidden us from presenting others’ writings. You may be talented, but do not bring me trouble."

"Steward Yang, there’s no need to be so distant. To be candid, my family depends on me passing the exams to support them; I am willing to go to any lengths. As a stranger here, with no friends or relations, I approach you simply because I find you honest and straightforward. Should you help me, I have a gift for you."

As he spoke, Wang Qinian produced a piece of paper. Yang Fu glanced at it—and his eyes widened in shock.

It was the deed to a manor and its fields!

"I could not bring all my wealth with me to the capital, so I sent people ahead to purchase a small estate in the metropolitan region—just over a hundred, perhaps nearly two hundred mu of land. I only ask that you help me once."

Yang Fu swallowed hard. A hundred mu of land in the capital region was no small matter.

If it were in Yangzhou, he would not even consider it, as he could not manage it from afar. Even in Luoyang, he would not be tempted. But land near Chang’an, within Chang’an County itself, just half a day from the city—this was another matter. He could easily manage the estate while continuing his duties at the Prince Consort’s residence.

At current prices, a hundred mu was worth several hundred strings of cash—depending on the soil’s quality, perhaps more. And it was good farmland, with a manor and several tenant families.

The more he thought about it, the more feverish Yang Fu became. Desire clouded his judgment; all he could think of was how to get his hands on that estate.

Just then, Wang Qinian said, "It's hot today. My manor is cool and pleasant—if you are free, why not come see it with me? Consider it a respite from the heat—what do you say?"

Yang Fu reasoned: seeing is believing. If the estate was as good as this country bumpkin claimed, passing on his writing would be no burden at all. He was about to agree when Wang Qinian added slyly, "If you truly dare not, I will not press you. You might simply introduce me to the chief steward at the Prince Consort’s residence. I would gladly offer him two strings of cash as a token of gratitude."

How could two strings compare to several hundred? And this reminded Yang Fu—if the other stewards found out, wouldn’t they all flock to snatch this opportunity?

He could not let anyone else in the Prince Consort’s residence hear of this!

"I'll have someone go back and request leave for me. I’ll go out with you at once," Yang Fu decided on the spot.