Chen Fang set out for the south a little earlier than Yu Qingtuan had the previous year. Before departing, he had a lengthy talk with his father Chen Meng. Both father and son were in favor of opening a new post road — beyond Zhù Ying’s proposal and the credit Chen Fang would accordingly gain from it, both men genuinely believed the project would benefit both the court and An’nan alike.
Given that, father and son were equally committed to seeing it through. Chen Fang thought a great deal about it, and went to Chen Meng’s study carrying a scroll map.
Chen Meng saw his eldest son arrive hugging a rolled-up map, and asked, “What’s that?”
“A map,” Chen Fang said. “I have an idea — I’m not sure whether it’s appropriate.”
“Come here and tell me.”
Chen Fang spread the map open and traced a line across it with his finger. “This is what the Ministry of Works has in mind. An’nan may not agree to it, and before I go to An’nan, I want to make a personal visit to this area first.” He pointed to a stretch along both banks of the great river. “Choosing the crossing point requires looking at several candidate sites. Only when both banks meet the requirements can the project proceed. And only once the right crossing is chosen can the starting points for the post roads on either bank be determined. Otherwise, if we build the road first and then find that the crossing is unsuitable at the riverbank, the route will have to be rerouted.”
This new post road had to be surveyed on the ground — it was two lines to be built simultaneously and then joined together. Chen Fang even argued that it would be better to start from the crossing and extend outward on both sides, but all of this still needed to be worked out after meeting with Zhù Ying.
In consulting Chen Meng, Chen Fang was in truth seeking his father’s support. Without the Council of State’s approval, he could not simply set his assignment aside and go off to conduct his own survey. Chen Meng thought for a moment and said, “All right — I’ll have a word with them tomorrow before you set off.” Even without a formal directive authorizing Chen Fang to conduct the survey, relaxing the time constraints slightly would still give him room to act.
Chen Meng felt a measure of relief, and said, “With this matter in your hands, I can set my mind at ease.”
Father and son both sighed at the same time. Chen Fang said, “The mood has been turning worse lately. Those with ambitions are growing despondent.”
“Pay no mind to others — just do your own part as best you can. What you do, and how much, is always seen by someone. On your way through Jiyuan Prefecture, stop in and see Jiang Zheng — he is a man of conscience, though his luck has not been kind. “
“And Yu Qingtuan?”
“Hmph,” Chen Meng gave a short snort. “Stay clear of him.”
“Understood.”
The next morning Chen Meng brought up what Chen Fang had requested, speaking first to Zheng Xi at the palace gate. The two exchanged a few quiet words, and Zheng Xi concurred: “The young master has thought it through carefully.”
After the morning court session the two men raised the matter with the Emperor as well. The Emperor was not particularly versed in practical affairs; the Chancellor had made a sound case, so he agreed: “Quite right. Zhù Ying is not easy to deal with, and without some preparation beforehand, one would be hard pressed to hold one’s own in an argument with her.”
Chen Meng had secured favorable conditions for his son from above; on the other end, Chen Fang had drawn the attention of Yao Chenying. The two men had a fair amount of mutual regard for each other. Yao Chenying, knowing that Chen Fang’s mission was likely to succeed, invited him to his residence specifically to discuss one matter — the budget.
He started by producing the letter Zhù Ying had written to him and setting it on the table before Chen Fang. Chen Fang opened it: the handwriting was one he recognized well, and his heart gave a small start. When his eyes reached the word for “Western Tribes,” he felt a note of quiet admiration: this aunt of his was a thorough and generous soul — she had gone out of her way to send a word of warning. With this, the court ought to exert even greater effort to pacify and draw in An’nan — which, he reflected, was actually advantageous for his own assignment.
Chen Fang said, “Ah! You spent many years on the western frontier — the Western Tribes are old adversaries of yours. Is there a message you’d like me to carry to that Military Governor on your behalf? A two-pronged containment strategy has been talked about for decades — are you thinking of achieving something in that direction now? My assignment is road-building, so I can only pass on a verbal message; the outcome, and the business of the state, would be well beyond my authority to decide.”
Yao Chenying reached out and took the letter back: “Young Master Chen Fang, this is an expensive undertaking as well.”
“Oh?”
Yao Chenying spoke in an unhurried, measured tone: “The Council of State has high hopes for this road and would not dare disturb you in your proper duties. All I ask is that you return with a real figure for me — how much money and grain will be needed, how many laborers must be mobilized — so I have something to work with. Otherwise, with two major undertakings, one in the south and one in the west, the Ministry of Finance will have difficulty allocating resources. If the figures are too vague, I can only focus on one at a time. And when it comes to choosing, rescue troops are like fighting fire — “
Chen Fang suspected he could glimpse a tail wagging somewhere behind Yao Chenying’s back. He gave a wry smile: “Your Excellency is overly concerned. Once I return from An’nan, I will likely be reassigned to serve as prefectural governor overseeing the road construction. At that point I will still be counting on your generosity.”
The two men exchanged courteous pleasantries for a spell, and then Yao Chenying said, “We both want this to succeed — why not speak plainly?”
Chen Fang picked up where he had left off: “As for my part in this, everything I’ve said is the truth. It’s just that without seeing it with my own eyes, I cannot give you a number yet. Once I return, I’ll speak with you in full detail.”
At last they had spoken candidly.
Chen Fang finally set off — by then it was the hottest part of the year, which was truly a poor time to be heading south. He brought several knowledgeable craftsmen and traveled at a measured pace, moving in the early mornings and evenings and resting at midday. He began at the upper reaches of the great river and then followed the current downstream, surveying the terrain along both banks.
He had not realized how difficult the terrain truly was until he saw it for himself. The craftsmen told him: “Along the great river, there has never been anything like the bridges you see in the capital. Either you build a pontoon bridge where the current is gentle, or you use a ferry crossing.” Bridges of the sort that required driving piles into the riverbed and laying a deck on top — stone bridges and wooden bridges alike — were simply out of the question.
That sort of construction was possible for small rivers and streams. Some arched bridges were built that way: you drove piles into the riverbed, enclosed a section of the river, pumped it dry, sank the foundation piles, built the piers. Then you laid the deck. The bridge was done. Stonemasons and carpenters both had people who knew the technique.
A river as formidable as the great river? Impossible.
As for crossing points, there were a few that had served for countless centuries, but none of them were large. For one thing, the current upstream was swifter, and suitable crossings were fewer to begin with. For another, the upper reaches were closer to the Western Tribes’ territory and not particularly safe; the population on the far bank was sparse, the terrain was mountainous, and there were no convenient roads into the mountains — demand was low, so what use was a crossing point?
As a result, crossings tended to appear in the middle and lower reaches. Further downstream, there were quite a few water relay stations and towns along the river.
When Chen Fang reached the riverbank, it happened to be summer — the rainy season — and he watched the river swell to a tremendous rise, adding yet another consideration to the list. Not until near autumn did he discover another method of crossing. It was not on the great river itself but on a tributary. Two thick roots of bamboo or rope stretched from bank to bank, forming an aerial tramway to cross the water. It looked terrifying.
Chen Fang spent several months walking up and down the banks, stopping and going, and finally settled on three candidate sites. Each had its advantages and drawbacks. One had a gentler bank — but the boat might run aground in shallow water, making a pontoon bridge the only option. Another had a comparatively narrow channel — but there was a reef in the middle. A third had excellent conditions on one side but poor conditions on the opposite bank. After much deliberation, he added the aerial tramway as a final option on his list.
From any of his chosen crossings, with experienced guides and sturdy large boats, one could just about manage to get across the river. The problem was what came next. An’nan had not yet built any roads along the riverside; once you crossed, you were in mountain forest and muddy paths barely wide enough for one person. What one might encounter in the mountain forest, no one could say.
Chen Fang stared at the far bank for a long while, regret written on his face, before finally repacking his luggage, returning to the official road, and making his way toward Wuzhou.
……
To reach Wuzhou, one first had to pass through Jiyuan Prefecture. Chen Fang and Jiang Zheng had worked together during his time in Yanzhou — Jiang Zheng had been his direct superior then, and the two had gotten along well enough. Chen Fang paid him a visit first.
Jiang Zheng seemed to have adapted reasonably well to this land of mist and miasma. Seeing Chen Fang, his first words were: “You’ve grown thin.” Then he asked whether Chen Fang’s trip was connected to the new post road.
Chen Fang said modestly, “Yes — they’ve sent me to do the legwork and have a look around. An’nan’s territory is vast, and even with the new post road opened, Wuzhou and Jiyuan Prefecture will always be closely linked. This will not disrupt trade with your prefecture.”
Jiang Zheng said, “That’s not what I’m worried about.”
Chen Fang was aware of the contents of Jiang Zheng’s memorial, and offered another word of reassurance: “There are people keeping watch at the top as well. The current Minister of Finance, Yao Chenying, is a capable man — and a man of public conscience. He won’t stand by and let things slide.”
Jiang Zheng said, with grave seriousness: “Do not take this lightly! When you return to the capital, you must remind your honorable father! Yao Chenying’s competence is real, I don’t deny that — but how far he is willing to go is another matter entirely.” He gestured in the direction of An’nan. “That one, before she became Chancellor, was in the Ministry of Finance, and the place had a thriving, vigorous energy about it. This one — nothing. That one still faintly had the spirit of rooting out old abuses; the moment this one took office, he stopped everything cold. You say he won’t stand by — I say he’s doing just enough, nothing more.”
He shook his head, sighed again, and seemed quietly aggrieved. He urged Chen Fang again and again not to pin all his hopes on Yao Chenying alone.
Chen Fang simply listened, making no promises, and at last turned the question back on him: “And you?”
Jiang Zheng said, “Me? Whatever the court appoints me to do, I’ll do my best within my means — that’s all, to protect the people of this region.” As he said this, the thought of Yu Qingtuan came to him again, and he began to speak of Yu Qingtuan’s transgressions. He also mentioned that he had been gathering a body of evidence, intending to bring a formal complaint against him.
Chen Fang said, “Is it really that serious?”
“You came up through Yanzhou — you and I both know something about salt. His conduct is not acceptable.”
The two discussed Yu Qingtuan’s situation in some detail, and Chen Fang found it troubling upon hearing it all, though he kept his composure: “Autumn is coming. When he fails to deliver the salt tax revenue to the capital, there will be explaining to do. Why take the lead yourself? Just wait two more months — with or without a reason, a reason will present itself. Why make those petty men remember a grudge against you? Even if you don’t care about your own career, think of the people here — if you were to leave, who knows what sort of person this territory might fall into next.”
After much persuasion, Jiang Zheng reluctantly agreed not to submit the memorial, and then asked Chen Fang, “When will you return? Come through here again on your way back — I have something I wish to discuss with you.”
Chen Fang agreed, and Jiang Zheng had men escort him into Wuzhou.
……
Wuzhou was just beginning its autumn harvest, and the faces of the people were aglow with joy.
Though Wuzhou was a mountainous place, the sight of it lightened Chen Fang’s spirits considerably. When he met Zhao Su, he too was smiling broadly.
Zhao Su already knew what Chen Fang had come for, and laughed: “Everyone has been counting the days waiting for you to arrive!”
The two were old acquaintances from their time in the capital, and they clasped each other’s arms warmly, patting each other on the back. Chen Fang glanced around, recognized Xiang Le and Xiang Yu among the group, and greeted them as well. Then he looked past Zhao Su and realized he did not recognize half the faces. He asked in a joking tone: “I know Zhù Lian is in Bozhou. Aside from him — where have you hidden Lin Feng and the others?”
Zhao Su said, “Since when can I hide them? They’re all with the姥.”
“Ohhh,” Chen Fang said, “then the gifts I’ve brought for them will need to travel another leg of the journey!”
“They have theirs — what about mine?”
“You all have yours.” Chen Fang said.
Beside them, Zhù Wen laughed: “Who goes demanding gifts right at the doorstep? Prefectural Governor, please invite Lord Chen inside to speak.”
The group moved into the residence. They caught up on old times, Chen Fang distributed gifts, and pleasantries were exchanged. Zhao Su inquired about the progress of the matter, and Chen Fang knew he was certain to relay the information back to Zhù Ying in advance, so he made no attempt to conceal it: “His Majesty intends to appoint me as the one to oversee it.” Chen Fang also asked Zhao Su about An’nan’s own preparations.
Zhao Su said, “Make your way west to Xizhou and see for yourself.”
Chen Fang said, “Then I’d better open my eyes wide.”
For both men, this was an unusually candid and direct exchange. When they were done, they looked at each other and smiled. Zhao Su arranged for Chen Fang to rest, and the following day sent men to escort Chen Fang and his party westward.
From that point onward, Chen Fang traveled on An’nan’s own post roads, and it was an entirely different experience. The roads throughout An’nan were still somewhat narrower than the official roads outside, but they were solidly built and comparatively smooth, being newer construction. Every thirty li there was a relay station — small, but adequate for resting. Food, water, and fodder were available; the quarters were plain but newly built and well maintained.
Chen Fang’s attendants remarked in quiet voices: “This is quite well done.” The man had accompanied Chen Fang for many years and was able to speak more freely; he also said in a low voice that it was a tremendous pity about Zhù Ying — a Chancellor of that caliber, out here in this remote and desolate place.
The remark left Chen Fang feeling a lingering sorrow, and he went two full days without speaking.
When they reached Bozhou, it was the familiar face of Zhù Lian who took charge of receiving them. The people around Zhù Lian were even less known to Chen Fang — he recognized only two as former attendants of the Zhù household, and they now both held official posts. Almost everyone had the features of the mountain peoples, most of them short of stature, with skin of a darker hue. Half of them spoke Mandarin haltingly, the other half with a light accent, but all of them were dressed in a sharp and capable manner. There were men and women both among them; the women met his gaze without a hint of shyness, all looking at him directly with open, unabashed expressions, making Chen Fang rather uncomfortable. He thought to himself, how strange — even being surrounded by palace maids in the imperial city hadn’t made him sweat like this.
Zhù Lian noticed, but said nothing of it, only remarking: “You’ve come at just the right time, my lord. Master is accompanying A’Niang on an inspection tour; by my reckoning, she should be back at the headquarters within the next few days.”
“An inspection tour?”
“Yes — taking a look around An’nan! A’Niang enjoys it, and Master is glad. It suits them both.”
Chen Fang said, “Convenient for both public and private purposes — a fine arrangement indeed. And it’s been some years now that mother and daughter have been apart. This way suits them well. I wonder, how is A’Niang’s health?”
“Sharp of hearing and clear of sight — only her teeth are not so good anymore. The elderly lady loves sweets, and everyone indulges her. When Auntie discovered it, she put a mild stop to it; Master took Auntie’s side, and the elderly lady is currently in a bit of a sulk.”
Chen Fang laughed. “To have one elder at home is to have a treasure. Shall I set off for Xizhou now, or go out along the road to meet them?”
Zhù Lian said, “Go directly to Xizhou. Sumu’s younger sister is keeping the house there — she’s not an outsider. You won’t be there more than two days before Master returns.”
“All right.”
Chen Fang made no effort to force his way in, and followed the main road straight to Xizhou. Zhù Ying had indeed not yet returned, and it was Su Zhe who received him, exactly as expected.
……
It was Chen Fang’s first time seeing Xizhou, seeing such an expanse of paddy fields in the south, and seeing the new city of Xizhou.
He said softly, “No wonder they speak of building a new road. If there is a place like this, it truly is worth building — and truly there is nothing to fear.”
Across the way, Su Zhe rode out of the city at the head of more than ten mounted riders to meet him. The two were old acquaintances — the Zhù and Chen families were on close household terms, and when Chen Fang looked at Su Zhe he always had the faint sense of looking at a younger sister or niece. Seeing her face radiant with smiles, he could tell she was living well, and could not help smiling in return: “You’ve grown up a bit more.”
“I’ve long since grown up! Please, come in!”
Su Zhe chattered away merrily as they rode, saying Zhù Ying would be back soon — she would certainly return to oversee the autumn harvest in person, and so on.
But Chen Fang’s gaze had come to rest on a young man. By Chen Fang’s assessment, the young man’s appearance could only be described as “ordinary-looking” — his height was not particularly imposing or well-built either. His distinguishing feature was a pair of bright, clear eyes. Those eyes kept drifting toward Su Zhe, and a faint irritation stirred in Chen Fang’s chest.
Su Zhe followed his gaze and smiled at the young man as well, and Chen Fang became all the more convinced there was a story between these two. He asked without thinking: “And this is?”
Su Zhe said with a smile, “He’s the son of the Deputy Governor of Daizhou.”
“Zhù… Chonghua?”
The young man’s Mandarin was not particularly fluent either, spoken with a slight accent: “That’s my mother!”
Su Zhe said, “Master says none of the children from the various households can afford to be idle either — An’nan badly needs talent, so they all come to Xizhou to study and learn how to manage affairs. His siblings, both a brother and a sister, are studying at the school and learning to work alongside. How does that sound?”
Not good at all!
Chen Fang said vaguely, “Master’s reasoning is always sound.”
He cast a sidelong glance at Su Sheng nearby, and Su Sheng was puzzled by the look.
Su Zhe said, “Come, let’s get you settled first, and then we can take our time looking around! Xizhou is growing more prosperous by the day!”
This Chen Fang could not deny. The framework of Xizhou’s city was well laid out and sensibly planned. Chen Fang put away his luggage and, not being in any hurry to get to business, invited Su Sheng to serve as his guide for a stroll through Xizhou.
Su Sheng had no suspicion of any ulterior motive; he merely thought it strange that Chen Fang — who was much better acquainted with Chen Mei — would want him as a companion. He supposed it was perhaps because his Mandarin was better?
He accompanied Chen Fang for half the afternoon. Chen Fang first asked about the customs of Xizhou and the situation of the various members of the Zhù household, then abruptly changed course and asked: “That son of the Deputy Governor we saw today — did he, ah… in the southern custom — has he sung to the young lady?”
Su Sheng had no suspicion: “Not that I know of — he only arrived close to summer, and there was no time for singing.”
“The two of them…?”
Su Sheng shrugged. “He’s not from a chieftain’s family, but…”
Chen Fang pursed his lips slightly: “I see.” It wasn’t that he wanted to meddle in others’ affairs, but he knew something of Zhù Chonghua’s origins. Though one should not judge a hero by their beginnings, and a background in slavery was nothing to be ashamed of — and Zhù Chonghua had risen to Deputy Governor, however much An’nan official titles might be inflated, at least she was someone who got things done. But… Zhù Chonghua had only been in government for a few years. This young man’s entire prior life had been spent in the condition of a slave. How much cultivation and refinement could he have acquired? And only now beginning his studies! His manner, from what Chen Fang had observed, looked rather “untamed.”
Chen Fang was troubled. Su Zhe had grown up in the Zhù household — educated, trained in martial arts, serving as an official, with a family inheritance to carry on. Whatever way Chen Fang looked at it, she seemed to deserve a man who had traveled a comparable road in life.
A thought suddenly arose in him: should he raise the matter with Auntie?
Almost immediately, another thought followed: Marriage joins two families together. Perhaps this was An’nan’s own arrangement — the rising newcomers binding themselves through matrimony to the old chieftain families, twisting together into a single cord? In that case, it was not his place to say anything. The girl had parents of her own.
He was just about to sigh when Su Sheng suddenly said: “Here they come! That’s Qingye — looks like Master will be back this afternoon!”
Chen Fang narrowed his eyes, watching a slender figure on a short horse galloping in the direction of the headquarters.