Chapter 56: The Aroma of Bait, the Flames Roaring, the Jar Awaiting Its Guests

Killing Yang Fu meant that the direct murderer responsible for Ye Shu’s death had been punished. Ye Chang no longer had any reason to remain in Chang’an, unless he was truly reckless enough to attempt an assassination on Prince Consort Yang Hui.

Thus, leaving Chang’an became his current choice.

However, he could not simply make a hasty departure; the quicker he left, the more suspicious it would seem. Ji Wen might well connect his flight to Yang Fu’s case. Therefore, he needed to stay a while longer, and it would be best if he stirred up some distractions to divert Ji Wen’s attention.

“Does Lord Ye know the new judicial officer appointed in Chang’an County?” Jia Mao’er sidled up to ask.

“I’ve seen him on the road; he’s a particularly devious character.”

Jia Mao’er nodded in understanding. “I’ve also heard that Lord Ye is acquainted with the Metropolitan Prefect?”

Thanks to He Zhizhang, Zhang Xu, and others spreading the word, it was now common knowledge that Han Chaozong, cherishing talent for the country, wanted to curb Ye Chang’s obsession with the sport of football. Jia Mao’er’s mention of this was to remind Ye Chang that Han Chaozong was not only Ji Wen’s superior, but also his superior’s superior. If anything went wrong, a word from Han Chaozong could easily suppress Ji Wen.

The reminder lit a spark in Ye Chang’s eyes.

Han Chaozong had lately been quite vexed. The manufacture of cement, using the formula provided by Ye Chang, had succeeded. Yet, as with all government undertakings, the cost was inevitably higher than if managed privately. The calculated expense exceeded Ye Chang’s estimate by half, which increased the risks of his plan to pave the streets of Chang’an by the same margin.

Moreover, he was overseeing another vast project: diverting the Ju River into the Western Market, to make it easier for timber from the southern mountains to reach the city. Both projects were enormous undertakings, requiring careful coordination, and were a source of much headache.

Thus, when Han Chaozong first heard that Ye Chang had come seeking an audience, his initial impulse was to refuse.

This fellow was still obsessing over football, even starting a league. If not for the rumored approval from Princess Yuzhen, Han Chaozong would have suppressed his efforts without hesitation. Still, recalling Ye Chang’s valuable cement formula and his advice on its promotion, Han Chaozong thought it worthwhile to see him.

He would grant him an audience—but not without giving him a taste of authority.

So, though Ye Chang was brought into Han Chaozong’s study, he found the prefect engrossed in paperwork—no seat offered, no tea served, as if Ye Chang were invisible.

Ye Chang’s cheerful smile never faltered. Bureaucrats throughout the ages, he thought, are all cut from the same cloth, delighting in making others “learn their place” and adopt the proper attitude.

Ye Chang saw through it all, but he had no intention of playing along.

No seat? No problem. A small brocade stool stood nearby; he simply dragged it over and sat down. No tea? Again, no issue. He drew a water gourd from his belt, uncorked it, and took a hearty swig—how could anyone survive the blazing heat without carrying a little chilled plum nectar, scented with osmanthus?

Ye Chang could endure hardship, but when comfort was possible, he never denied himself.

After a gulp of the tangy plum drink, he glanced curiously around the room. All antiques—if he could take a couple back, they’d be national treasures. Those Tang sancai ceramics, with their luster and shape, were truly mouthwatering.

This display amused Han Chaozong. All along, he had been quietly observing Ye Chang, and never expected him to be so unrestrained—lounging about, looking everywhere, even making himself at home.

“All right, enough with the act!” Han Chaozong finally tossed aside his document. “What do you want?”

“It isn’t I who seeks something, but you, Sir Han,” Ye Chang replied with a grin.

“What could I possibly want?”

“The very things that have been troubling you of late.”

“Me? I am the Metropolitan Prefect, trusted by the Emperor, supported by colleagues, beloved by the people—what troubles could I have?”

“If that were so, why has the river diversion to the Western Market stalled halfway?”

“Well…”

Ye Chang’s sharp words left Han Chaozong momentarily speechless. But years in office had seasoned him; he coughed lightly and straightened his expression. “Since you know what troubles me, why haven’t you offered your clever solutions to ease the nation’s burdens?”

“Hold on, hold on, Sir Han, spare me the high-minded lecture—those give me a splitting headache.” Ye Chang raised a hand to interrupt the speech Han Chaozong had prepared.

Had anyone else said this, Han Chaozong would have rebuked them for lacking perspective. But from Ye Chang, he could not bring himself to scold; after all, the man had freely given up a fortune in cement profits, simply to pursue his beloved football. He had practically begged, “Sir Han, I just want to play ball!” Yet, after accepting the cement formula, Han Chaozong still tried to ban the league. In the end, Ye Chang had cleverly skirted the ban by disguising the matches as Buddhist ceremonies.

So Han Chaozong bit back his words and paused, ready to launch into an impassioned speech on building a harmonious, prosperous Tang dynasty, when Ye Chang spoke first.

“There are three things weighing on your mind, Sir Han. First, the river diversion to the Western Market must pass through several households, making resettlement difficult. Second, although cement has been promoted, many watch but few act. Third, the road paving budget is overspent, leaving you in a bind.”

Han Chaozong shot Ye Chang a wry look. “Since you know, why keep me in suspense? Out with your plan!”

“Sir Han, I came to Chang’an on business; now my affairs are settled, I’m preparing to return home.” Ye Chang smiled. “Though I am a heartless fellow, your sincerity for the country, and the concern of Lords He and Zhang, do not escape me. Therefore, before I leave, I ask for a temporary post as your advisor—would you grant me this?”

A temporary advisor?

The request caught Han Chaozong off guard. He had expected Ye Chang to seek office or wealth, but not this—what could he mean?

“What exactly do you want to do?”

“You know I’ve been organizing a football league. If it succeeds, there will be matches every ten days in Chang’an, and key games will require constables and guards to prevent stampedes or brawls. But constables are public servants—one cannot use them lightly. Therefore, the league’s organizers wish to offer twenty percent of net proceeds to the Prefecture, to cover these expenses.” Ye Chang’s tone turned serious. Originally, he had planned to use Princess Yuzhen’s influence, but circumstances had changed, and he had to persuade Han Chaozong himself.

Only thus would suspicion be avoided.

“Another exchange? Aren’t you afraid I’ll trick you again?”

“How could you trick me, Sir Han? Last time you were looking out for my best interests. I’m not ungrateful.”

“If you truly understood gratitude, you wouldn’t have recited that poem ‘The sun sets, its beauty undiminished,’ making Lord He claim illness. If not for that, you’d still be buried in study at his estate, not wandering at will.”

Han Chaozong bluntly pointed out Ye Chang’s intention that day. The first four poems would have sufficed to outshine Yuan Zai and Lu Qi, but Ye Chang had pressed on, ending with “The sun sets, its beauty undiminished,” deliberately unsettling the aging He Zhizhang. His fame as a poet spread, but the shock might well have ruined the old man’s health.

That was why Ye Chang still felt guilty toward He Zhizhang. Luckily, after receiving Ye Chang’s conciliatory gift of tea, He had spent his days quietly brewing tea at home, easing Ye Chang’s conscience a little.

“That was a last resort,” Ye Chang said sheepishly.

Han Chaozong studied the young man before him: clever, daring, and bold. Used rightly, he could benefit the state greatly; but should he stray down a crooked path…

He might well rival Li Linfu.

“This temporary advisor—what does it entail?”

“I’ll serve Sir Han for a month. After that, I’ll pack up and leave. Your three troubles—I promise to resolve them all!”

Han Chaozong fixed Ye Chang with a deep stare. Resolve all three problems in a month?

“Very well,” he said at last.

As the judicial officer of Chang’an County, Ji Wen was bound to meet the Metropolitan Prefect, Han Chaozong. In his view, with the matter of the Prince Consort’s steward, the Princess’s household would pressure Han Chaozong, who would then pass the pressure to him. Unexpectedly, though, the Princess’s household seemed largely unconcerned with the steward’s death, content to let matters rest.

This only confirmed to Ji Wen that there was more to Yang Fu’s death than met the eye. Yet the group of swindlers had vanished without a trace—unbeknownst to him, Wang Xinzhi had already departed for Yangzhou to organize the football league there, a favor granted by Ye Chang to the professional con artist.

The only remaining clue was the two arrows, whose origin had recently been identified—they were eagle-feathered arrows commonly used by Khitan from Fanyang and Pinglu.

Now, it was only a matter of tracing which Khitan had entered Chang’an recently. Ji Wen soon discovered that the newly appointed military governor of Pinglu, An Lushan, had just sent a group to the capital.

However, these men had left Chang’an several days before Yang Fu's death, and Ji Wen’s investigation showed they had departed in great haste, as though some grave incident had forced them to flee.

This discovery greatly increased their suspicion, but the matter was now beyond Ji Wen’s authority.

He would have to appeal to Han Chaozong, who could then request a court order for the military governor of Pinglu to hand over the suspects. Ji Wen doubted it would succeed; indeed, his real aim was only to make things difficult for Han Chaozong on Li Linfu’s behalf.

Just then, Han Chaozong summoned him to the prefecture, ostensibly for instructions on the canal project. Ji Wen was plotting how to raise the Prince Consort’s case, but upon arrival, he found Ye Chang there.

Ye Chang was attended by five or six constables—one fanned him, another ground ink, and others nodded in agreement at his side.

Ye Chang saw Ji Wen and looked up with a smile. “Master Ji, we meet again.”

At once, Ji Wen recalled another rumor about Ye Chang.

He was said to be vengeful. Yuan Zai, having once offended him with words, was forced to leave Chang’an. Lu Qi had been humiliated by him, and now could hardly remain in the city, scurrying off to join his father.

Now, was it his own turn?

Ji Wen sneered inwardly. He wasn’t afraid of being humiliated by Ye Chang; Yuan Zai and Lu Qi were mere scholars, without titles, while he was the legal officer of Chang’an County—with the mighty Li Linfu behind him.

Li Linfu had placed him under Han Chaozong for a reason.

“Lord Ye is busy here, it seems?”

“There’s a mountain of work to finish in a month—of course I’m busy.”

“A mountain of work? Might I ask what sort of business you have? Perhaps I could assist?”

“But of course! Why else do you think Sir Han summoned you? I asked for it myself,” Ye Chang replied with a grin.

Ji Wen was taken aback. This felt wrong. Not only was Ye Chang posturing, he seemed truly intent on retaliation. Was it worth it? For a few harsh words, would he go to such lengths?

He did not understand Ye Chang’s anxiety.

What did Ye Chang have to rely on? Only his reputation. Back home, he was famed as a dreamer; here in Chang’an, where he could not boast of his dreams, he had to display his talent.

“Your summons was at Lord Ye’s request—he finds you bold and meticulous, perfect for certain tasks.” As Ji Wen nursed his suspicions, Han Chaozong strolled over with his hands behind his back.

Eyeing Ji Wen, Han Chaozong felt only distaste.

This man was a plant inserted into Chang’an County by Li Linfu. After the death of the former Left Chancellor Niu Xianke and Li Shizhi’s succession, Han Chaozong had become Metropolitan Prefect, throwing the entire bureaucracy into chaos—which Li Linfu exploited to place his own agents. Han Chaozong knew full well Ji Wen was a spy, but since Ye Chang had named him specifically, Han Chaozong had no choice but to use him, though he made no effort to hide his dislike.

“What instructions have you, Metropolitan Prefect?” Ji Wen ignored “Lord Ye” entirely.

“Come with me.”

The two withdrew behind a screen. Ji Wen frowned at Han Chaozong’s back, but said nothing until they reached the courtyard, where Han Chaozong finally turned to speak.

“The canal into the Western Market requires a reservoir in the northwest corner. The land was once public, but has been encroached upon in recent years and must be cleared. Therefore, at Lord Ye’s suggestion, a Demolition Office will be established under the Metropolitan Prefecture, and you will be appointed its temporary head, responsible for urban management. This is a matter of great importance and complexity, Ji Wen. Since Lord Ye has spoken so highly of you, I’ll shoulder the risk and use you. If you succeed, the Emperor himself will recognize your merit…”

Ji Wen was dumbstruck, listening to Han Chaozong extol the significance of the project, promising to recommend him to the court for rewards once it was done—he could only stand in blank incomprehension.

Any sensible person would see it was a trap!

Those who had built private residences on public land in the northwest corner of the Western Market were not only daring merchants, but also the capital’s most powerful nobles. Demolishing merchants’ houses was easy—the Tang never much respected merchant rights, even forbidding officials of the fifth rank and above from shopping in the market. But the nobles—princesses, princes, ministers, and vice-ministers—how could a mere legal officer of Chang’an County challenge them?

Not just him—even Li Linfu behind him would have a headache over this.