The Sovereign did not summon any ministers for an audience today and remained utterly silent throughout the meal, appearing somewhat distracted and disinterested in the food – clearly preoccupied with matters of state.
The attendants guessed correctly: Wen Yanran was indeed thinking about work. As her proficiency in handling state affairs improved, the speed at which she reviewed memorials had steadily increased. However, the downside was that the number of memorials kept rising as well, forcing many less urgent reports to be delayed for some time.
She had previously written to Xiao Xichi, instructing her to be as strict as possible with Luonan. She diligently carried out the Emperor’s decree, arranging for the local residents of Luonan to cultivate sugarcane trees. Among these, the early-maturing varieties could be harvested in just eight months. The neighboring Chongchang Commandery obligingly complied with the arrangement, planning to exchange rice and cloth for the produce. It was expected that the goods would be transported to the capital in about a month or so.
This summer, temperatures were higher than in previous years, resulting in a slight decrease in grain yields. However, cotton, which is relatively drought-tolerant, was not significantly affected and will be ready for full harvest by July. In fact, the imperial gardens have already gathered a batch to weave new cloth for the Sovereign.
Influenced by Wen Yanran’s personal preferences, the crop structure in the Jianzhou region and the southern areas has undergone certain changes.
In terms of staple food, the Sovereign prefers rice over millet; when it comes to clothing materials, she favors cotton over silk.
…Well-informed ministers pondered this, finding it difficult for the time being to determine whether the Emperor’s preferences indicated excessive extravagance.
In fact, Wang Qishi had previously offered advice to Wen Yanran, noting that whatever the superior likes, those below will indulge in even more. To curry favor with the emperor, officials in the Imperial Household Department planted large areas of cotton on government fields, and some wealthy households followed suit, starting to cultivate cotton themselves. This, in turn, could potentially impact ordinary civilians.
After all, cotton is insignificant to the Emperor, and its price is lower than that of high-grade fabrics like Western brocade. However, for commoners, it is absolutely a rare and expensive commodity. If the amount of cotton becomes too abundant, it could crowd out the production of kudzu and hemp, leaving ordinary people unable to afford clothing materials to cover their bodies.
Wen Yanran vaguely recalled that, historically, the widespread adoption of cotton indeed occurred much later. Although the Great Zhou existed in a different world, similar social patterns should still apply.
Wang Qishi, known in the comment section as “Loyal and Filial,” had offered her such advice. Naturally, Wen Yanran listened attentively – and then did the complete opposite. She even issued a verbal decree to Hou Suo, instructing them to put more effort into researching cotton fabrics.
By the end of June in the third year of the Zhaoming era, the first batch of harvested cotton had already been delivered to Jianping.
Wen Yanran remained at Gui Palace as usual, spending her leisure time refining alchemy in Jingyuan. She had a young eunuch deliver a message to the Imperial Household. “The cotton cloth produced last time was well-woven. Make me two more fluffy cotton quilts, to be kept for winter use.”
The Imperial Household administered the Eastern and Western Weaving Bureaus, which were responsible for managing the imperial wardrobe. The Sovereign’s verbal decree was successfully conveyed to them, prompting these officials to engage in new reflections – such as how to weave cotton fabric to make it finer and softer, how to select cotton varieties to enhance the cloth’s durability, and furthermore –
What exactly did “fluffy cotton quilts” refer to?
People of that era naturally used quilts. As for Wen Yanran, the winter quilts she used featured smooth silk fabric for the outer covering, filled primarily with mink or fox fur. For commoner households, the filling materials were often rice straw, scraps of cloth, kudzu and hemp, bird feathers, or even reed catkins.
The influence of habitual thinking was profound. In Wen Yanran’s mind, both silk and fur were far more expensive than cotton. She subconsciously assumed that cotton quilts were simply too inexpensive to be seen in her surroundings.
The palace hierarchy was strictly observed, and the personnel of the Eastern and Western Weaving Bureaus could not directly inquire of the Emperor what a “fluffy cotton quilt” should look like. They had to ponder the matter diligently on their own.
The Director of the Eastern Weaving Bureau speculated, “If we merely replace the quilt cover with cotton fabric, that certainly wouldn’t count as fluffy. Since we lack understanding, we must deduce from Her Majesty’s words. Her Majesty mentioned only cotton, so naturally, we should use cotton wadding for the quilt’s inner filling.”
The Director of the Western Weaving Bureau concurred, adding, “Achieving fluffiness is also possible. Those harvested cotton bolls, if beaten vigorously, will naturally become soft and fluffy.”
The Sovereign was busy, the Imperial Household officials were busy, and the ministers of the outer court were busy as well. This was especially true for Wang Qishi and others recognized as members of the pure-stream gentry. They frequently submitted remonstrances to the Emperor, and after doing so, they had to pay attention to the subsequent developments.
The Emperor held high prestige and authority; they dared not oppose her openly on major state affairs. However, when it came to certain details of daily life, they still, from time to time, insisted on going against the Emperor’s wishes, thereby demonstrating that they did not merely cater to the sovereign’s preferences.
Inside the Wang residence.
A servant announced, “Master, this month’s official gazette has arrived.”
Wang Qishi nodded. “Understood. Leave it here; I will read it shortly.”
The most skilled artisans of the Great Zhou naturally served the royal family. However, powerful gentry and wealthy clans also privately maintained their own craftsmen, each possessing unique skills. After the imperial court successfully developed woodblock printing, private imitation sprang up immediately. Nowadays, in addition to the official gazettes issued by the court, many unofficial lodgings also secretly sell printed private gazettes.
The Imperial Guards in the capital naturally had to devise ways to curb the chaotic trends within the city. However, the private sale of gazettes was undeniably profitable, especially since many scholars hoped to obtain more information through various channels. As a result, such activities could not be completely suppressed.
Among the official gazettes delivered by the servant just now were several private ones that the master had once denounced as vulgar in language.
After the servant left, Wang Qishi put down the book he was holding and, with a composed expression, took up the gazettes to read.
He perused the private gazettes first.
The paper of the private gazettes was of poor quality, the printing was substandard, and the language was coarse – merely managing to convey the information clearly.
The first line of the gazette read: “Recruiting workers at the city gate, earn twenty coins daily, meals included.”
Wang Qishi frowned. For manual labor, this wage was not actually high; its only advantage was the provision of meals. Logically, government slaves should have been used for repairing the city walls. However, the canal construction had absorbed a large portion of the labor force, and many buildings damaged by the earthquake still required repairs, leaving no choice but to hire additional commoners.
During the reign of Emperor Li, twenty coins could at most buy three or four liters of wheat. After the current emperor ascended the throne, the purchasing power of currency had somewhat increased. Based on this year’s market prices, twenty coins could buy about five liters of wheat, slightly less than an adult’s daily ration.
Wang Qishi summoned the servant who had previously gone into the city to buy the gazettes and asked, “How is the construction of the city wall progressing? Are many laborers employed?”
The servant replied with a smile, “Rest assured, Master. There is no shortage of workers in the city. It is said that the work will be completed in a matter of days.”
Wang Qishi’s face remained impassive, but inwardly he was greatly astonished.
Having moved with the Emperor to reside in the Gui Palace suburb, he had not returned to the city for a long time and was unaware of the wall’s repair progress. However, he had heard colleagues mention that the damage to the wall was so severe that it would take at least seven or eight months of work. If they wanted to do a thorough job, it would likely take over a year. Now, only half a year had passed, and it was truly on the verge of completion?
The servant added a few more remarks, “People in the city are saying there was quite a surplus of resources and manpower this time. Therefore, not only the northern section, but the other three walls were also meticulously repaired.”
The mention of a “surplus” meant that the expenditure for repairing the city walls was less than the budget allocated, allowing the Ministry of Works to proceed with such thoroughness and ease.
Though filled with curiosity, the residence Wang Qishi currently occupied was near Gui Palace, some distance from the city. Unable to rush back and see for himself, he had to suppress his inquiries for the time being.
Further down in the private gazette, there was additional news: the Lu clan was also recruiting workers, preparing for the upcoming autumn harvest. Their offered wages were even higher than those for the city wall project.
The Lu clan held a marquisate. However, the current clan head, Lu Liangcheng, had taken up a post in the Western region and brought many of his close associates with him. This left a significant shortage of labor back in Jianzhou, forcing them to hire from outside. Hence, this information had found its way into the private gazette.
Wang Qishi recalled that many prominent families in Jianping would annually absorb numbers of people who had fled back from the south. Now, even a major clan like the Lu family was facing a labor shortage. Did this not prove that few people were escaping from the south to the northern lands?
After a moment’s reflection, he understood. The southern regions had long been regarded as miasma-ridden lands, inhospitable and undesirable. The powerful clans were unwilling to migrate there, and small groups of wandering refugees lacked the means to relocate. Consequently, the level of development in the south lagged behind that of the north. This year’s absence of people fleeing back north was also related to the Sovereign’s emphasis on medical advancements, which had made insect-borne and miasmatic diseases no longer incurable.
Continuing to read, he noticed that in Dingfu County, not far from Jianping, someone was even selling their land, preparing to migrate south. What was more, this family bore the surname Yuan, belonging to the same clan as the current Grand Tutor, Yuan Yanshi.
They were a branch lineage that had separated long ago, their members at most capable of holding minor ninth- or eighth-rank official posts. Nevertheless, they were still members of the Yuan clan, and times were not so desperate that they faced destitution. Their willingness to abandon the prosperity of the Central Plains and head south was still astonishing.
A thought suddenly flashed through Wang Qishi’s mind – the Emperor must be planning to hold Talent Selection Examinations in the south.
The Sovereign lacked sufficient personnel, hence selecting talents through examinations. However, the Emperor also had concerns; the list of selected officials must be sent to the capital for secondary approval, and their appointments would reach the county magistrate level at most. For positions above that, candidates would only be chosen from among those with experience serving in the central government.
Although the Yuan branch was in decline, they were, after all, relocating from Jianzhou. If they participated in the Talent Selection Examinations in the south and failed, that would be that. But if they actually passed, they would at the very least obtain a county magistrate position.
Seen in this light, this migration might well be an arrangement made by Grand Tutor Yuan himself.
Wang Qishi felt a stirring of interest, thinking that perhaps he could arrange for a branch of the Wang clan to relocate as well, offering a path for those less successful distant relatives.
Just at that moment, a household servant came to knock on his door and announce, “Master, an envoy has arrived from the palace, bestowing fruits upon our household.”
It was a custom of the current Sovereign to occasionally gift food items. What arrived at Wang Qishi’s residence was a modest amount: a watermelon and a plate of fragrant pears – these pears were presented on a glass plate, appearing translucent and lovely.
Glass was a product developed in the Jingyuan district and was used by the Sovereign to reward ministers. Additionally, households renowned for their virtue could also receive several pieces of glassware when being honored.
The top sections of private gazettes mostly dealt with matters of common livelihood, while news related to court affairs was placed further down, a measure intended to conceal their true purpose from casual observers.
Wang Qishi perused it carefully twice, finding that the individuals behind the private gazette were remarkably well-informed – they had not even omitted matters concerning the City Bureau. A line at the bottom of the gazette read: “Palace Attendant Chi Yi, bearing the imperial credentials, has arrived at the front camp.”
Although Chi Yi had ostensibly been promoted only after the Emperor’s accession, many believed that the Sovereign had connections with her even when she was still the Ninth Princess. Otherwise, how could she have casually singled out such an exceptionally capable individual with a mere gesture?
…Considering the Emperor’s mandate of heaven, Wang Qishi mused that the possibility of it being a truly casual selection was not entirely out of the question.
By the time news spread gradually, it had already reached the front camp.
This was an imperial envoy bearing credentials. Although she came from the inner court, having constantly attended the Emperor’s side, her reputation was not as tarnished as many of her fellow palace officials. She also maintained basic harmony with others.
Chi Yi came straight to the point, “I have matters to discuss with General Song.”
Song Nanlou clasped his hands in greeting. ” Attendants-in-Ordinary Chi, please speak plainly.”
Chi Yi softened his tone and said, “I am aware that the City Bureau failed to restrain its officials, offending the General. Today, I have come specifically to offer an apology.” She performed a half-bow, then continued, “The Sovereign understands the grievance in your heart…”
Hearing this, Song Nanlou could not help but feel a flicker of confusion.
He had always been unyielding and proud by nature. In the northern lands, where power structures were deeply intertwined, people constantly came to test and provoke him – be they gentry, powerful clans, or palace officials. Song Nanlou’s consistent response was to meet confrontation with confrontation. Although he managed to suppress them temporarily, retaliation afterward was inevitable. His uncle, Song Wenshu, had already written to reprimand him, stating that most of the impeachments he now faced were troubles of his own making, and even if he submitted his resignation now, it might not absolve him of guilt.
As Chi Yi spoke, her mind drifted to the expression on the Emperor’s face when she had first received the memorial regarding this incident.
Half a month ago, within Gui Palace.
Upon opening the first memorial of impeachment, the Sovereign’s brow seemed to flicker with slight surprise. After reading through all the memorials, a trace of understanding gradually emerged in her eyes.
Before the Emperor could assign blame, Chi Yi directly bowed in ritual. “I failed in proper oversight, causing discord between the City Bureau and the officers and soldiers of the front camp. I beg Your Majesty to impose punishment.”
The Sovereign let out a light laugh and instructed, “Since your two sides have quarreled, you shall be the one to go and deliver the edict to Minister Song.”
Wen Yanran had initially been somewhat puzzled as to why Song Nanlou, with his gentle and accommodating nature, had managed to develop such severe conflicts with various factions in the northern lands.
But upon reading further, she came to understand. The fundamental reason so many memorials of impeachment had been received in Jianping, and why the Song clan had come to apologize, had nothing to do with Song Nanlou’s personal temperament. Rather, it stemmed from conflicts of interest between the faction he represented and the native powers of the north.
As for the matter of executing the palace official, that was even more understandable. Chi Yi had just admitted that despite her own abilities, she could not compel every subordinate in the City Bureau to obey orders. How then could Song Nanlou, commanding tens of thousands of soldiers, manage every single one without error? If subordinates from both sides clashed, even the gentlest and most accommodating Song Nanlou would not bow his head to an arrogant and domineering palace official.
Thoughts reaching this point, Wen Yanran smiled again. “When you speak with Minister Song, be sure your tone is extremely gentle. Do not frighten him.”
