Wen Yanran’s assessment of the ministers proved accurate. As summer arrived, memorials requesting a suspension of the canal repair project poured in without end. This year’s severe drought meant the court had to prepare for disaster relief, with both manpower and resources stretched thin – there was simply no capacity to devote to large-scale construction.
Moreover, in the eyes of the people of that time, the south was a misty, pestilent land with a sparse population. As long as border defenses were maintained and major turmoil along the southern coast was avoided, many ministers saw no reason why the Emperor was so insistent on building the canal.
At the Ministry of Revenue, since February, officials had been meticulously calculating grain reserves across various regions. Though other ministries and departments lacked access to the exact figures, the haggard expression of the Minister of Revenue told its own story – the situation was far from optimistic. Funds were needed to sustain the normal operation of the court, to provide disaster relief, to expand official academies, for the Emperor’s alchemical pursuits, and, most notably, for the canal project.
Lu Yuanguang, just thirty-five years old, was already showing streaks of white hair beneath her official cap.
Perhaps mindful of her trusted minister’s hardships, the Emperor sent word to Lu Yuanguang, who remained in the city, offering words of encouragement and a gift of fresh fruits picked from the outskirts. At the same time, she summoned the Minister of Works, who was on leave at home, to the Gui Palace.
“Minister Huang, are there any individuals skilled in city construction within the Ministry of Works?”
Huang Xu was momentarily taken aback before replying, “Naturally, there are talented individuals, but in recent years, there have been few city-building projects, so they may lack experience…”
Wen Yanran smiled. “Never mind, there’s no immediate rush.” She waved her hand, dismissing Huang Xu.
She had long contemplated constructing another capital, an idea inspired by the poetic line: “Had there been no dragon-boat palaces on the canal, his merits might have rivaled even Yu’s.”
Wen Yanran mused that to ensure her path as a ruler veering toward extravagance was more securely laid, she might undertake additional endeavors beyond canal construction. Since she had little interest in boating, she planned to establish a secondary capital once the canal was completed.
For now, however, the Ministry of Works was largely consumed by the canal project. Even if construction were to begin, it would have to wait several years. Today’s summons for Huang Xu was merely to prepare him mentally for what lay ahead.
And indeed, Huang Xu clearly grasped the Emperor’s intent – and became all the more resolute in his determination to choose the right moment to request retirement and return to his hometown for rest.
The weather in Jianzhou grew increasingly hot.
The sunlight was glaring, the cicadas’ chirping incessant, and ice blocks in the outskirts became ever more sought after.
It was only at times like this that Wen Yanran felt the late emperor had possessed decent judgment.
In truth, summers in Jianping were not as scorching as in modern times. Here at Gui Palace, even at the hottest point of the day, the temperature barely exceeded thirty degrees.
Yet, though temperatures were higher in later ages, there were the wonderful comforts of electric fans and air conditioners.
Wen Yanran reminisced about the past and sighed inwardly at the decline in her standard of living.
The Gui Palace and Yao Palace, situated at the foot of the capital’s mountains, were constructed along the natural contours of the terrain, with mountain springs channeled into their gardens and courtyards. As Wen Yanran reminisced about the past while enduring the present, she was struck by a sudden whim. She selected many bamboo stalks, each as wide as a bowl, hollowed them out to serve as pipes, and directed a stream of spring water all the way to her bedchamber. There, she crafted a small waterwheel, powered by the flowing water from the bamboo pipes, to set it in motion.
Connected to the waterwheel was a horizontal axle, and at the other end of this axle, she attached a device resembling a windmill.
As long as the waterwheel turned, the windmill would rotate along with it, serving the purpose of fanning air.
[System:
Player has obtained [Water-Powered Fan].]
In truth, as long as it wasn’t something as absurd as concocting sulfuric acid, certain acts of self-entertainment could still barely be recognized as behavior befitting a tyrannical ruler. Considering how far Wen Yanran had strayed from the intended path, the system had no choice but to relax its standards, seizing every opportunity to offer hints to its host, hoping she would embrace a life of leisure and content herself with being a proper, pleasure-seeking tyrant.
Wen Yanran took note of the prompt. She didn’t quite understand its significance at first, but after a moment’s thought, she speculated that the system might be nudging her to apply the principles of the water-powered fan elsewhere. So she summoned a craftsman from the Imperial Household Department.
“Study this carefully and see if it can be adapted for other purposes.”
The craftsman bowed in acknowledgment and meticulously sketched out the design of the water-powered fan.
This year, the drought was severe. The Emperor had specially crafted a simple waterwheel, naturally intending for them to investigate whether such devices could be applied to farmland irrigation.
The Emperor had moved to Gui Palace, while Marquis of Fengsu, as a close member of the imperial family, remained in the city. Although left behind to oversee the Taiqi Palace, she dared not act on her own authority and frequently ventured to the outskirts to pay her respects to her imperial sister.
Today, the Marquis of Fengsu once again set out for Gui Palace. Upon arrival, she learned that the Emperor had been struck by a sudden whim to practice alchemy a couple of days ago and had gone to Jingyuan with her attendants, not having returned since.
Upon hearing this, Wen Yuansheng, the Marquis of Fengsu, dutifully redirected her path to Jingyuan. She first sent someone to announce her arrival and, after receiving a reply, was led by palace attendants to Sangzhi Palace.
After waiting in Sangzhi Palace for about fifteen minutes, the renowned Attendant Chi finally approached and gave a slight bow. “Her Majesty invites the Marquis of Fengsu to the Elixir Palace.”
Since this was not an official audience, Wen Yuansheng spoke more casually and asked with a smile, “Is my sister practicing alchemy? I’ve never seen it before.”
Chi Yi replied with her hands respectfully at her sides, “In summer, many people enjoy cold foods. Her Majesty, in her benevolence, wishes to concoct some suitable elixirs for such conditions.”
Her words were tactful, but in truth, the reason Wen Yanran had taken up alchemy was that she had accidentally eaten too much watermelon chilled in well water a couple of days ago at noon.
Those in the palace were especially mindful of health, so Chi Yi had summoned the imperial physician to examine the Emperor.
After taking the pulse, the Chief Imperial Physician prescribed a remedy and then said respectfully, “Your Majesty is in good health – there is no need for medication. If there is a chill in the stomach, one could brew a bowl of the prescribed medicine to drink.”
Upon a single glance, Wen Yanran identified the ingredients as mild, warming herbs such as dried tangerine peel, cloves, and white atractylodes rhizome.
Although she had eaten some chilled fruits, she was young and robust, suffering no serious effects. However, she worried that the elderly ministers in the court might not fare as well if struck by similar ailments. So she decided to go to Jingyuan to prepare berberine as a precaution.
By the time Wen Yuansheng arrived at the Elixir Palace, a strong, bitter odor permeated the air. A group of alchemists were carrying earthenware jars filled with a brownish-red liquid, setting them aside for the Emperor’s use.
This was the filtered berberine solution Wen Yanran had prepared the day before – what the alchemists privately referred to as “elixir liquid.”
The process was simple: grind coptis rhizomes, add ten percent quicklime powder, then thoroughly soak and stir the mixture in a large amount of cold water. After letting it sit for a full day and night, the resulting product was filtered to remove impurities. Finally, refined salt was added, allowing crude berberine crystals to precipitate.
Berberine tablets could be used to treat acute enteritis. Now that summer had arrived, many elderly people and children in the capital were suffering from gastrointestinal discomfort – this medicine was precisely what they needed.
The crystallized berberine was bound to contain impurities, but ever since her transmigration, Wen Yanran’s standards for drug extraction had plummeted from refined purification to “as long as it doesn’t kill anyone, it’s a success.”
Seeing the Marquis of Fengsu arrive to pay her respects, Wen Yanran paused her work and smiled at her. “What perfect timing. My new elixir will be ready soon. Since you’re here, why not stay for a couple of days? When you leave, take some to the Imperial Medical Bureau and have them test its medicinal properties.”
Today was a day of rest, so Wen Yanran naturally kept her sister for a meal together.
As they dined, Wen Yuansheng noticed an attendant presenting a memorial, holding it up for the Emperor to read while she ate.
Even at mealtime, she never stopped working. No wonder, since the Emperor ascended the throne, everyone at court, from the highest to the lowest, had been sincerely convinced by her dedication.
Some ministers had urged Wen Yuansheng to take the opportunity during her visit to Jingyuan to counsel the Emperor against excessive indulgence in alchemy and to persuade her to return to Gui Palace to attend to state affairs.
But after witnessing the day’s events, Wen Yuansheng felt it best to remain silent – given the Emperor’s diligence in governance, she would be hard-pressed to find any angle from which to offer advice, even if she wanted to.
Wen Yanran’s gaze swept over the memorial.
No wonder the attendant had presented it during her meal – it truly contained good news, the kind that could whet the appetite of even the most aspiring sage-king: five days prior, Dan and Tai Provinces had delivered the commercial tax revenue for the first half of the year, totaling three hundred million coins.
This impressive figure was largely attributable to the resolution of the separatist situation in the western regions and the subsequent reopening of internal and external trade routes.
As they dined, Wen Yuansheng heard her imperial sister remark with a smile, “The western regions have been exceptionally diligent this year, delivering the commercial tax revenue as early as this month.”
Since the Marquis of Fengsu was present, Wen Yanran casually handed the memorial to her, allowing the young lady to have a look.
Though Wen Yuansheng was still young, having been born into the imperial family, she possessed a fairly comprehensive understanding of basic concepts. She knew roughly that during the late emperor’s reign, half a year’s commercial tax revenue would barely exceed one hundred million coins – and even that meager amount was the result of repeated government extortion and excessive levies. So when she learned that three hundred million coins had now been collected, she couldn’t help but be utterly astonished.
Wen Yanran, upon first seeing this figure, had also been somewhat surprised, but after calculating further, she calmed down: although they had earned quite a lot this year, there were even more places requiring expenditure. The canal project in the south was essentially a massive money-devouring machine. Three hundred million coins in commercial tax revenue might sound like a tremendous sum, but when poured into the project, it would barely sustain it for one to two months at most.
The number of people dispatched to dig the canal this time was enormous. Just the surrendered soldiers from the east alone numbered over a hundred thousand. Adding in the private troops that had followed the powerful families, the total likely exceeded two hundred thousand. Moreover, during the canal’s construction, the officials in charge from the Ministry of Works would also recruit or hire local laborers from the south to participate in the project. Xiao Xichi from Qingyi, after resolving the Luonan issue, had also transferred ten thousand workers from the southern coast.
All told, there were now approximately three hundred thousand laborers at the canal site.
Among them, those with minor offenses would leave the workforce after completing their labor sentences, but such gaps in personnel were easily filled – every year, there were naturally convicts sentenced to hard labor in the south, and canal construction was, of course, one form of such penal servitude.
Wen Yuansheng offered her congratulations, “In just the first half of this year, the court has collected three hundred million coins in commercial tax revenue – truly a cause for celebration…”
Wen Yanran shook her head and corrected the details of her statement. “The three hundred million coins represent only the commercial tax from the Western Regions. When combined with revenues from the north, south, and east, the total reaches one hundred sixty million more coins.”
Upon hearing this, Wen Yuansheng nearly dropped the chopsticks in her hand. After regaining her composure, she even felt tempted to write down everything she had seen and heard today and burn it as an offering to the ancestors of the Wen clan – contrast was the key to recognizing disparity. With the disastrous reign of Emperor Li as a foil, the present emperor’s virtues shone all the more brilliantly, like gold and jade.
In addition to commercial taxes, revenues from government monopolies on salt and iron for the first half of the year had also been reported – these alone amounted to six hundred million coins.
Beyond commercial taxes, the court’s income also included land taxes and poll taxes. Since Wen Yanran still needed to maintain the basic functioning of the government, she naturally could not pour everything into the canal project.
Wen Yuansheng said, “Congratulations, Your Majesty.”
Wen Yanran smiled. “Don’t be fooled by the large figures. The monthly expenses of the palace alone amount to nearly one hundred million coins.” She then turned to the attendant beside her and said, “I recall there are still considerable surpluses in the capital. Allocate additional funds from the Imperial Household Department and the Ministry of Revenue, combine them with the commercial tax revenue, and send a total of two billion coins to the canal project.”
Wen Yuansheng was well aware that the canal project had stirred no small amount of controversy, but judging by the Emperor’s demeanor, she was evidently determined to see it through to completion. Perceptive as always, she simply engaged her sister in casual conversation about various amusing anecdotes from within and outside the city, carefully avoiding any discussion of major state affairs.
Before her visit, she had discussed the canal project with her study companions, many of whom came from scholarly families and possessed no little insight. They had heard from their elders that the challenges of building the canal lay not only in financial resources but also in grain reserves.
Although people in this era did not yet understand what inflation meant, they were keenly aware that the total supply of grain was limited. If too much money flooded a region, grain prices would steadily rise, and eventually, even those with wealth would be unable to purchase food.
This was especially true given that transportation was still underdeveloped – moving grain between regions inevitably incurred significant losses.
In the end, her study companions reached a unanimous conclusion: the obstacles to canal construction would arise either from insufficient funds or from inadequate grain supplies. They repeatedly cautioned Wen Yuansheng to avoid provoking the Emperor on this matter at all costs.
While the younger generation debated affairs of state, the court ministers were also engaged in private discussions.
“Her Majesty has already sent funds to the southern regions, but where will the grain come from?”
“I heard in court that Her Majesty has ordered the opening of the Imperial Granary in Jianzhou.”
The one who had spoken earlier exclaimed in surprise, “How can the Imperial Granary be opened so lightly? Did the Ministry of Revenue not oppose it?”
The Imperial Granary stored the central government’s reserve grain, and its status was of paramount importance. Except in times of war, it was essential to ensure that the surplus grain never fell below the critical line.
The Emperor was acting arbitrarily, and the ministers found it difficult to criticize her directly, so they shifted their target and jointly impeached Lu Yuanguang for dereliction of duty. As a result, the Minister of Revenue, already overwhelmed with work, had to take time out of her busy schedule to address the concerns of those who cared about her job performance – explaining that opening the Imperial Granary was actually not a problem, because Jianzhou had enjoyed a bountiful harvest last year, and this year’s yield was not expected to be much worse. Even if some grain were allocated to the canal project, there would be no negative impact.
The skeptical ministers, feeling the recent climate conditions, couldn’t shake the suspicion that Lu Yuanguang was trying to pull the wool over their eyes.
Lu Yuanguang sighed inwardly and said, “Have you all forgotten that in the second year of the Zhaoming reign, Her Majesty had the Liubo Canal constructed in Jianzhou?”
The Liubo Canal was a standard large-scale canal, stretching hundreds of li and capable of irrigating an area of up to three thousand square kilometers.
“…”
Upon hearing this, the skeptical ministers fell into silence.
Not being officials of the Ministry of Revenue, they had indeed easily overlooked this source of output.
“After Her Majesty built the Liubo Canal, an additional three thousand square kilometers of fertile land was added to the Jianping area. Even with extensive farming methods under insufficient rainfall, each acre could still yield three bushels of grain.”
Excluding land left fallow for crop rotation, the areas irrigated by the Liubo Canal alone had contributed an extra sixty thousand metric tons of grain and beans in the past year. Even if forty thousand metric tons were allocated to the south, it would not affect the grain reserves of the Imperial Granary.
One minister exclaimed in admiration, “Her Majesty… is truly far-sighted and deep-thinking.”
They now realized that the Emperor’s construction of the Liubo Canal had served two purposes: first, to train skilled personnel, and second, to improve farmland conditions, boost grain production in Jianzhou, and supply grain to the canal project.
Upon hearing this, many officials suddenly conceived an idea – to retrieve the memorials they had previously prepared, advising the Emperor against the canal project, revise them, and resubmit them as panegyrics praising the sovereign’s brilliance.
Song Wenshu was also present. Observing his contemplative colleagues, he spoke up, “Have you all noticed that Her Majesty has not levied any additional taxes or grain requisitions this time?”
Under any other emperor, the canal project would undoubtedly have been used as an excuse to impose another round of taxation. But Wen Yanran, despite her lavish spending, had never created any new tax categories.
Little did Song Wenshu know that Wen Yanran’s restraint wasn’t due to a lack of desire to impose additional taxes, but rather to her lack of familiarity with the concept that emperors could exploit public works projects to extract money and grain from the people…
By this point in their discussions, many ministers had gradually calmed down. About a month later, a letter arrived in the capital from General Xiao of the Annan Protectorate, reporting that she had dispatched a shipment of grain to the canal site.
The central ministers were utterly astonished.
Others might have their resources, but Qingyi had scarcely any cultivated land – where on earth had Xiao Xichi obtained grain?
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