Wang Furong was not one to sit idle. She had been away from home for many days, and though nothing was out of order in her eyes, everything still felt slightly off to her. That very day she got no rest at all, and threw herself back into managing the household. The next morning she was up early again, sorting out the local specialties she had brought back from An’nan one by one into separate portions, and arranging for her husband and son to deliver them to relatives and friends.
In all the busyness, she had a persistent feeling she had forgotten something, try as she might to remember — and finally she let it go. Wang Furong had not traveled far from home many times in her life, and this particular trip had been quite a grand outing; it was the third day of distributing gifts and she still wasn’t done. On this day, she was telling her daughter-in-law about Wu Shuang: “She’s sharp and clever, and she’s got new companions now — daughters of the female officials at the yamen…”
The dog by the gate suddenly burst into loud barking. The old gatekeeper stumbled to the entrance and shouted: “Trouble! The runners are here!”
For various reasons, the Wu family’s impression of “runners” was extremely poor. Both Wang Furong and her daughter-in-law were so startled they dropped what they were holding. Wang Furong said: “Where is Dalang?”
“He went to deliver things to his uncle’s family, Mother — what do we do?”
Wang Furong said to her daughter-in-law: “You stay here for now — I’ll go and see.”
She went quickly to the front courtyard, turned into the main hall — the house had only just been granted a title of honor on account of her daughter, and the Wu family had not yet rebuilt it into a grand estate, so it was only a few steps to reach — and stood at the threshold. There in the hall stood two yamen runners in official uniforms. At their feet sat a carrying case tied with red silk.
Wang Furong did not recognize these two runners, but the moment she saw that carrying case with the red silk, her heart lurched. Her tone came out less than friendly: “And what are you two here for?”
The two runners greeted her politely: “Madam.”
One of them produced a calling card and said, with great courtesy: “We are from the Prefectural Governor’s office, sent to deliver gifts to you. Lord Chen — the eldest son of Chancellor Chen — has returned to the capital, and our Prefectural Governor has entrusted us to bid you farewell on his behalf.”
“Oh?” Wang Furong was even more puzzled as to what connection she could have with the Chancellor’s son. And surely her family had nothing worth coveting?
The runners paid no mind to her thoughts, and continued: “This is Lord Chen’s calling card, and this is the gift list — please keep them safely. We will return to report to our Prefectural Governor.” When they finished speaking, they presented the card to Wang Furong with both hands.
Not knowing what was going on, Wang Furong had no choice but to accept it. Worried about what might be written on the card, she opened it immediately and read it right then — and was puzzled even further. It was simply a farewell: Chen Fang’s handwriting was clear and graceful, the message perfectly plain — just saying his goodbyes, along with a wish for Wang Furong to take good care of her health. The gifts were perfectly proper as well: four lengths of fabric for the formal gift.
And that was all.
Wang Furong was at a loss, thinking to herself: This must be because of An’nan, surely?
She gave the two runners their fee for their trouble, took the gifts and calling card, and stored them away with puzzlement. When her husband and son returned, the family all talked it over and came to the same conclusion — it must be because the Chancellor’s son had money, and because he was giving face to An’nan: “He’s already gone, and there’s nothing to covet from us anyway — he’s a proper gentleman. No wonder his family produced a Chancellor, truly thoughtful and considerate. Though there’s no way to return the gift — we’ll have no choice but to accept it.”
They accepted that gift of good fortune and went on living their lives, thinking of Chen Fang only as a “benefactor” — one of the rare breed of “distinguished guests” who did not make things difficult for common people.
But that “distinguished guest” had his own calculations entirely. No sooner had he left Wuzhou than he recalled that Jiang Zheng had said, before he left, to come see him on the way back — that he had something to entrust to him. He came down out of the mountains and went straight to find Jiang Zheng.
Jiang Zheng was a man of considerable skill in governing the people and managing civil affairs, but he knew very little of the situation in An’nan, and had been looking recently for a way to gather intelligence — though Zhao Su in Wuzhou kept a tight watch. Chen Fang had made a full tour of An’nan, and Jiang Zheng was also eager to ask.
Chen Fang said: “The common people are living and working in peace. Lawless and violent elements are rarely seen within the territory. As for the rest — I didn’t go to many places, so it’s hard to estimate. But in Xizhou city, one hears the cry of newborn infants quite often. When people feel settled enough to raise families, An’nan is doing better than one might have imagined.”
Jiang Zheng said: “Stability is good — it makes it harder to stir up trouble. Ah, I have something to give you.”
“What is it?”
Jiang Zheng produced a box, opened the lid, and inside, filling one side, lay stacks and stacks of written pages, ledgers, and the like. Jiang Zheng held out the box to Chen Fang and said: “That Yu Qingtuan — every bit of his cleverness bent in the wrong direction. Get him removed quickly. For the court’s sake, for the people’s sake, this cannot be allowed to go on. These are the pieces of evidence I’ve gathered over the past days — please, I beg the Chancellors to act in the interests of the people.”
Chen Fang took it without hesitation: “I will make certain it reaches them. As for how the Council of State will handle it, I cannot make rash promises, but if I am asked, I will speak the truth — I will not conceal anything for his sake.”
“That is enough,” Jiang Zheng said, and wished Chen Fang a smooth mission.
Chen Fang took the opportunity to ask him to send someone to the Wu family: “I am not able to delay long — I hope you will not mind the trouble.”
Jiang Zheng readily agreed, and also asked: “Is the Wu woman of use in An’nan?”
Chen Fang smiled: “The An’nan headquarters is harmonious from top to bottom. The Elder Lady and her daughter are both deeply attached to those around them. Wang Furong traveled the same road with me, and saying farewell before parting is simply human feeling — nothing more.”
Jiang Zheng accepted this and agreed, and Chen Fang set off for the capital with peace of mind. As for how he presented his report upon returning to the capital, how he made known the plan negotiated with Zhù Ying, how he deliberated with Chen Meng over the matter of Yu Qingtuan, how he coordinated with Zheng Xi — those details need not all be recounted.
When Chen Fang returned to the capital, it was already winter. Yu Qingtuan’s salt tax revenues for the year were clearly deficient, and Zheng Xi seized the opportunity to press the attack. The evidence had been gathered in full by Jiang Zheng; Yao Chenying’s Ministry of Finance had failed to collect the full amount, and the Emperor’s inner treasury share was correspondingly short — giving both the Ministry of Finance and the Emperor cause for dissatisfaction. Zheng Xi then submitted the evidence, and even Xian Jing could not shield Yu Qingtuan any longer.
Yu Qingtuan was recalled, and his successor was, naturally, Shu Yan from Zheng Xi’s faction.
But Chen Fang could not immediately take up his new post. He still needed to coordinate the plan he had brought back with the Ministry of Finance, the Ministry of Works, and other departments. River crossings and transit points fell under the Ministry of Works’ purview, and other aspects were connected to the Ministry of Finance, along with matters relating to the management of craftsmen and the like. Chen Fang and Zhù Ying had agreed on two candidate proposals: first, suspending a number of iron cables in the air and laying a bridge deck across them; second, a ferry crossing.
The two proposals could not be built simultaneously — the budget was insufficient. Each side would repair its own section of road within its own territory, with an estimated two to three years before both sides’ road sections were completed and could be joined at the river.
This involved concrete engineering details, and with Chen Meng presiding, the various parties squabbled over the plan for another month, finally settling on the first option: the iron suspension bridge. It would not be affected by the river rising in flood season, required no maintenance of boats and the like, and had only one crossing point, which was easier to guard and defend. The ferry option, besides requiring ongoing boat maintenance, was also unsuitable given the existing geographic conditions.
Once the post road was opened, if there was demand, a ferry crossing could be added based on circumstances.
……
With the plan settled, Chen Fang’s appointment followed. In addition to his position as prefectural governor, he was concurrently assigned to coordinate the opening of the post road — because the post road in fact comprised two components, the road itself and the relay stations, and someone had to oversee the whole. In An’nan it was simple: Zhù Ying said the word and it was done. On Chen Fang’s end, he needed an ever-growing string of concurrent titles to cover each additional responsibility.
Finally, in the first month of the new year, all his several appointments were in hand, and an auspicious day was chosen for him to take up his post. At the same time, an official dispatch was sent to An’nan to notify Zhù Ying.
By the time Zhù Ying received the official dispatch it was already early in the second month. The winter wheat had just been harvested and the spring planting was about to begin. Zhù Ying convened her staff at the headquarters and called a meeting to discuss the matter.
Everyone in the headquarters already knew that Zhù Ying was determined to build this post road. One by one they passed the official dispatch around in silence, and when the last person had finished reading it, Zhù Ying said: “Let’s hear it — what are your thoughts?”
Su Zhe said: “The court moves slower and slower. I wonder if they can finish on time? We don’t want to have our side done while they’re still not connected on the other end.”
Lu Danqing said: “Even so, it’s not as if our effort would be wasted — we wanted to build roads to begin with. At most, we leave the final stretch incomplete for now and wait to see how things go?”
Zhù Qingjun said: “There are still a few spots along the route that aren’t entirely safe. I’ll take my troops through that area again and clear it out.”
Wu Ren, in a quieter voice, said: “Their choice of this option is no surprise — but it will require a great deal of iron. An’nan has iron mines, but regrettably there are not enough skilled workers; the output has to supply farming tools and weapons as well, and what can be spared for the bridge is limited. We need to start stockpiling now.”
Xiang An added: “The craftsmen’s skill is also not on a level with those in the capital. A span of iron cables this long, bearing this much weight — that’s not something ordinary skill can manage. Even in Jiyuan Prefecture, there may not be craftsmen capable of this. Even if there are, one or two would probably not be enough. I’m not sure how we’re going to put together a sufficient crew.”
Zhù Ying said: “That’s easily handled. Qingxue, draft a dispatch — request the craftsmen from the court. Xiang An, have sharp-minded apprentices ready. When the craftsmen arrive, have the apprentices learn alongside them.”
Xiang An quickly agreed.
Then came Zhù Qingjun’s task of clearing the area — she had been carrying out this work all along, and Zhù Ying only said: “Move quickly. This stretch along the route — you’ll need to keep a close watch over it as well.”
Last was Lin Feng. He had been stationed at the pass bordering the Western Tribes’ territory and had been rotated back this year. While the others were speaking he had been thinking, and after a long time, he squeezed out a sentence: “The thing is…”
Zhù Ying looked over at him. Lin Feng said, hesitatingly: “Although this is a bridge — does this also count as a ‘frontier pass’? Should we build a checkpoint or something?”
Su Zhe was a little surprised: “Not bad! You actually thought of that.”
This new post road, besides functioning as an official road, was also intended by An’nan to serve as a trade route. A trade route meant tax collection, and setting up a checkpoint was entirely appropriate. But Lin Feng’s mention of a “frontier pass” carried the implication of guarding against the court — something he would rarely have considered before.
Zhù Ying smiled and nodded: “Good thinking. We’ll build the bridge and the checkpoint together when the time comes.”
Lin Feng broke into a smile as well — he felt quite accomplished after this meeting. After it ended, he found himself talking more than usual. Of all the people there, he and Su Zhe were closest; the two walked out together. Lin Feng first thanked Su Zhe for looking after his family during his posting at the border, and Su Zhe said: “What are you saying? I’m not just close to you — I’m also related to your wife!”
The old chieftain families, in fact, also tended to be well-matched with each other in terms of standing — chieftains from different villages also intermarried, and if you traced Su Zhe and Lin Feng’s wife back through the branches carefully enough, you could find the connection. But that sort of chieftain kinship had never stopped them from seizing each other to offer as a blood sacrifice in the old days, so the tie was taken with a smile.
Lin Feng laughed at that, then asked: “How come I don’t see A’Sheng? Did he go out on the bandit-suppression campaign? I didn’t see Zhù Xinle either today — was that not him?”
Su Zhe said: “It’s spring. His uncle called him home to look for a wife.”
“Which family’s girl?”
“I don’t know — let’s see who he can out-sing.” As she said it, Su Zhe laughed. Gradually their customs were changing. Before, it was all singing and matching eyes, and then the parents would come forward to formalize the match. Later there had been a trend toward “parental arrangement and matchmaker’s introduction.” More recently there was a movement back toward “finding your own.”
Lin Feng said: “He hasn’t sung in a long time, has he?”
“None of us really sing much anymore. Never mind him — he’s not old yet; even if he starts practicing now, it’s not too late. And besides, the girls these days don’t necessarily insist on him knowing how to sing, do they?”
“That’s true. Spring — what a fine season! His good fortune is near — I should go home and say something to my wife, and start preparing a wedding gift.”
The two of them were chatting idly, not knowing that Su Sheng was running into trouble back home! Just three days after the two of them had spoken about Su Sheng, Su Sheng returned.
Su Sheng came barreling into the headquarters: “Master! Let me go west and swap with Jin Yu!”
Everyone in the headquarters knew why Su Sheng had gone home in the first place. Zhù Ying heard those words and immediately knew something was wrong, and asked: “What’s happened? You’re running away like this?”
Su Sheng’s eyes were red: “Nothing’s wrong — a man of backbone should establish himself first before starting a family!”
“Tell me the truth. In this state, how can I have peace of mind sending you to square off against the Western Tribes?” Zhù Ying said, and waved a hand, signaling the others in the room to leave. Hu Shijie cooperatively picked up her blade and walked out; Zhù Qingye and the others tiptoed away and, thoughtfully, pulled the door shut behind them.
Only then did Su Sheng speak: “Even a father and brothers can be strangers!”
Marriage — Su Sheng, as a young man, was very much in favor of the idea. Su Sheng had seen the girls of the capital during his time there, and looking back now, it felt like a dream. He had also been thinking about what kind of wife he wanted: naturally someone a little pretty, a little endearing, and the girls of Asu County, especially those from chieftain and village-head families, generally received some education. If they hadn’t had schooling before, they could always start learning in Xizhou. He would treat her well and bring her to Xizhou to live a good life together.
With that spirit, when Su Feihu called him home, he had no resistance and went readily.
Spring was the traditional season for young men and women to socialize. Girls and boys from the various villages liked to gather together. Before, it was all about singing; now, besides singing, there were other courtship games as well, among them the “parental arrangement” style the parents had picked up from the lowlands. Su Sheng had taken a liking to the daughter of a small village head in the county — the two had spoken a few times and were clearly growing fond of each other.
Then the skies turned without warning. The girl’s father refused to let his daughter leave home. If Su Sheng was not going to stay in the old home territory, the match was off.
Su Sheng was naturally unwilling to go back. The old home was his father’s, his eldest brother’s — and below the eldest brother there were several more brothers. Some had fallen in the western campaign, but even so it did not come around to him, because the eldest brother’s own son was not small anymore. Beyond that, there was another option: he could move into the girl’s family as a live-in husband.
That was even more impossible. He had a good position at the headquarters — what would he go back and become a live-in husband for?
Just as Su Sheng was stewing in misery, the girl’s father, not receiving his answer, betrothed the girl to Su Sheng’s youngest older brother.
Spring was in full bloom. The girl’s father and Su Feihu sat above, drinking and chatting about their children’s marriage. Su Sheng sat below them, struck by a bolt from the blue. That very night he rode through the darkness and covered thirty li, resting at the nearest relay station. The next day he got up and pressed on, arriving back at the headquarters just as the arrangements for this year’s spring planting were getting underway.
This business — Su Feihu had handled it badly.
Zhù Ying said: “You’ve had a long journey back and must be tired. Rest first. I’ll ask your father what exactly happened — how things came to this.”
Su Sheng said: “There are so few villages in those outer five counties, and the village heads below him won’t follow if they don’t want to. He needs to form alliances through marriage, keep on good terms with those in-law families! So naturally he has to respect their wishes.”
The outer five counties still held to the old ways. A cave lord controlled the largest village, and whether the smaller villages listened — and how much — depended entirely on the skill of the chieftain or cave lord. Su Feihu had been given a large inheritance, and besides what he was keeping for his sons, there were still some smaller villages under him. He looked at those people much as Zhù Ying looked at the outer five counties, or as Su Mingluan looked at him — the similarity was considerable.
Su Feihu had many children and grandchildren, but several had been lost in the western campaign, and his influence had slightly weakened. Alliance through marriage was a good means of shoring it up. As for which specific child was the one doing the marrying, he didn’t much care.
Su Sheng had dimly known this all along but had never thought it through to the end. Now the words were out of his mouth, and he felt hollow: “Master, let me go out and walk around for a while.”
Zhù Ying said: “I’ll give you three days off. Rest up, then come find me — I have something for you to do.”
Su Sheng opened his mouth: “Understood.”