Chapter 51: Yearning for Grain

Chapter 1

At Zhangtai Palace, Ying Zheng remained seated in the main seat, holding a scroll, silently reading. On either side of the hall, Li Si and Wang Jian sat facing each other.

“Three years?” Wang Jian murmured to himself.

Li Si took a deep breath and said, “The old general should never have doubted the prince’s resolve.”

Wang Jian appeared weak, coughing lightly twice before addressing the First Emperor, “I am old and foolish; Minister Li has set a trap for me.”

Ying Zheng, seated above, said nothing, only furrowing his brow slightly as he glanced at the document.

Lowering his head, Wang Jian coughed weakly again and said, “Prime Minister, dare you let the prince repay this debt?”

Li Si smiled faintly, thinking to himself how this old fellow still feigns frailty; if this weren’t Zhangtai Palace, he might have slammed his hand on the table and left in anger.

Wang Jian continued, “I do not want the one hundred thousand shi of grain and provisions.”

The First Emperor nodded slowly.

Seeing the emperor’s consent, Wang Jian rose, saluted, and prepared to leave the hall.

“But I can forgo the grain only because I fear the prince will repay it.”

At these words, Wang Jian’s steps halted; his hand gripping the cane trembled slightly, as if angered, he muttered, “That is Li Si’s business, not mine.”

With that, Wang Jian continued out.

The palace remained silent; Li Si’s face showed no blush as he sat upright nearby.

After leaving Zhangtai Palace and descending the steps, they arrived at the residence in Xianyang City.

The general’s mansion in Xianyang was far smaller than the ancestral home in Pinyang, which boasted a vast agricultural estate belonging to the old general’s family.

Ordinarily, only Wang Ben lived in the Xianyang residence; Wang Jian rarely came here.

Today, once Wang Jian entered, his steps quickened, and in a deep voice he said, “Taking my grain to curry favor with Li Si, and then making me thank him!”

No sooner had he spoken than he knocked over the items on the desk.

Bamboo slips, ink brushes, ceramic bowls, wine, and various prepared foods scattered across the floor.

The household servants were terrified and prostrated themselves.

Wang Ben glanced at the scene but said nothing, instead waving the servants away.

Just as he rose to comfort his father, Wang Ben heard him speak again.

“Li Si! You cunning old fox, I will exact my revenge from you sooner or later.”

Wang Ben sat back down, realizing it was nothing serious; his father did not truly intend enmity with Li Si.

Since relinquishing military command and sending Wang Li to Shang Commandery, the Wang family had been living quite comfortably.

Though Wang Ben missed his son stationed at the Great Wall, he understood the importance of the bigger picture, allowing Wang Li to endure hardships and learn from Meng Tian.

Perhaps the Wang family would produce another general—no need for brilliance, just a capable assistant to support Meng Tian.

For Wang Jian, it was already fortunate that the family did not suffer the fates of Bai Qi or Wei Ran.

The First Emperor had offered a way out, and the Wang family father and son could not refuse.

Wang Ben whispered, “Knowing Li Si’s craftiness, why provoke him?”

Wang Jian’s beard fluttered in the wind, his heavy breaths reminiscent of a mad tiger in old age.

Wang Ben stepped forward, patting his father’s back to soothe this “tiger,” whispering, “We will reclaim what is owed from Li Si another day.”

Hearing this, Wang Jian’s anger subsided, his expression calmed. He grasped his son’s arm and said, “Whatever Prince Fusu needs, you must deliver, even if it means conceding a favor to Li Si.”

Wang Ben nodded, “Rest assured, Father.”

Wang Jian added softly, “The favor we give Li Si now must be repaid in full by the prince in the future. Prince Fusu is known for rewarding loyalty generously, like the villagers of Jingye County.”

With that, Wang Jian leaned on his cane and left the mansion.

Wang Ben’s beard was not only tinged with gray at the temples but also speckled with white on his chin. His father’s words conveyed that Prince Fusu was a man of clear rewards and punishments; serving him faithfully would surely yield rich returns.

Watching his father’s retreating figure, Wang Ben stood rooted. His father was growing older, his eyes clouded, but his mind illuminated.

His father had long understood the situation in Xianyang, and Wang Ben now realized why Prince Fusu’s rewards during the construction of Xianyang Bridge had never been sparing.

At the time, he had thought the prince was young and overly generous, but recalling the entire construction of Jingye Canal and the years of efforts, everything flashed through his mind.

Prince Fusu respected rules deeply. At first, Wang Ben thought it was to win over the Legalist faction led by Li Si.

But now, his father believed the opposite.

It was precisely because Prince Fusu was so principled that he commanded the loyalty of men like Li Si.

That was one hundred thousand shi of grain, sealed with the First Emperor’s witness. Without the emperor’s sanction, his father would never have made such a promise to Li Si.

This suggested the First Emperor also desired the completion of the canals.

Wang Ben watched his father board the carriage back to Pinyang and told those nearby, “Send another hundred thousand shi of grain to Prince Fusu, saying it is from the Wang family on behalf of the Prime Minister.”

The servants hurried off to carry out the orders.

At Tong Pass, Fusu received another hundred thousand shi of provisions. The Wang family’s servants delivered the grain and left a message that it was sent on behalf of Prime Minister Li Si.

Listening to Tian An’s account, Fusu was puzzled; perhaps the Prime Minister and Old General Wang were sulking?

But he did not dwell on it. Everyone understood that grain was sent to aid the great cause in Guanzhong—reinforcements of provisions.

Fusu was grateful and would never refuse such help.

Chapter 2

“My teacher knew I would surely lack grain. I thought I could grit my teeth and survive on supplies from Jingye County and neighboring counties—even with poor food, as long as I didn’t starve.” Fusu sighed, “Alas, Teacher and Old General Wang have taken great pains.”

Old General Wang’s meaning was clear: his family did not lack this two hundred thousand shi of grain, nor did they need to borrow favor from Li Si. The earlier hundred thousand shi was not to be repaid by Prince Fusu, but Li Si still owed the Wang family another hundred thousand shi.

If it had been arranged from the start to send grain to Prince Fusu, the Wang family could have afforded two hundred thousand shi.

But Li Si’s portion was separate and unrelated to the prince.

Both were wily old foxes.

Since the grain was sent, Fusu accepted it without reservation; refusing it would only waste the elders’ goodwill.

During the busy farming season, Fusu found leisure. He placed several sand tables before his house; the largest depicted the layout of Weinan Commandery, with smaller ones representing each county.

He was now arranging the future appearance of Tongguan. There was an old saying: without Tongguan, there would be no Qin, Han, or Tang.

Near Tongguan was a narrow path, barely wide enough for a single horse-drawn carriage, a natural fortress like Hangu Pass.

Fusu intended to develop this into a key strategic location in Guanzhong, a critical trade gateway between Guanzhong and Luoyang.

Beside him, Tian An boiled water for the prince.

Fusu said, “Actually, Sima Xin’s idea was not wrong; the Weihe River port could serve as a trading market. But he erred in its location—it should be at Tongguan, not Huayin.”

Tian An sat nearby, fanning himself. The afternoon after the Grain Rain festival was still warm. After a few spring rains, Guanzhong would enter its dry season.

By summer and autumn, when the central plains were dry, Guanzhong would experience the unique Huaxi autumn rains, intermittent and lasting for about half a month.

Currently, with the Yellow River’s water level low and the Jingye Canal open, the downstream water level of the Luo River had dropped even further.

In the warm afternoon, young people might feel hot after half an hour in the sun, breaking out in sweat.

But for Tian An, now advanced in years, the afternoon sun was just right. His fan movements slowed, and his eyelids grew heavy—probably because Prince Fusu’s new reclining chair was so comfortable that sleep overtook him when fully relaxed.

Breathing the air by the Yellow River, Tian An slowly opened his eyes to see dusk on the horizon.

He hurriedly sat up, looking around. Still by the Yellow River, the evening breeze had cooled the air considerably. Steadying himself, he glanced again to find the prince still reading by the sand tables.

Relieved, Tian An rubbed his eyes and looked around. The stove still burned, the ceramic pot contained freshly added cool water—no doubt added by the prince.

He remembered to prepare dinner soon, lest the prince go hungry.

Fusu’s gaze remained on his book, but he noticed Tian An’s startled expression upon waking.

“Did you have a nightmare?”

At the prince’s question, Tian An replied, “The recliner is too comfortable; I slept longer than intended.”

Fusu said, “If you like, I’ll have one made at Gaoquan Palace, an even better one.”

Tian An waved him off, “No need, this one is fine.”

Then he left.

Fusu continued reading the county records before him—recent reports sufficient for his preparations.

When Tian An returned, he carried a Yellow River carp, some freshwater clams, and small shrimp.

These were likely traded from local villagers for small bags of grain.

People raised by the Yellow River were excellent swimmers; they rarely returned empty-handed after fishing.

What they caught formed a meal.

Tian An’s noodles were the villagers’ favorite, so they willingly exchanged better river delicacies for noodles.

Fine foods like noodles were loved by both adults and children.

After returning, Tian An began pulling noodles. In Jingye County, people often gathered to watch, but in Tongguan, fewer spectators came.

Tian An’s noodle-pulling became more skillful, resembling a master craftsman.

Fusu started cleaning the shrimp, clams, and carp.

He first descaled and gutted the carp, bleeding it by cutting its gill arches and hanging it upside down.

Then he prepared the clams and shrimp with scallions and ginger.

Tian An prepared the main dish, shaping wide noodles.

All steps were deftly executed.

If outsiders saw Fusu killing fish, they would hardly believe it was the prince himself.

Within half an hour, a platter of river delicacies was ready. The shrimp sizzled in a small pan, releasing fragrant oil; the clams steamed, steaming hot.

Fusu took a bowl of noodles from Tian An, eating while savoring the river delicacies.

Eating by the Yellow River at dusk, with the gentle evening breeze, the sky darkened as the sun finally dipped below the horizon.

The next day, Fusu rose early to practice swordsmanship with the old general by the river—simple cuts and thrusts.

Originally, the long spear and heavy halberd were practiced similarly; now even the longsword followed this method.

As the old general said, on the battlefield, as long as one had strength and quick reflexes, one could kill more enemies.

When the sun shone brightly over Tongguan County, the area grew lively.

Though it was farming season, General Xin Sheng could spare some men to build the city walls; the villagers of Tongguan could gather thirty to fifty people.

Every morning, they trained until their backs were soaked with sweat.

At this time, the county magistrates from Weinan brought their reports.

Fusu began his day’s work.

Chapter 3

Today, Tian An arrived with a scroll. “Prince! Inspector Zhang has sent a letter.”

Though Zhang Cang was in Luoyang and Tongguan was not far, correspondence took time. The letter sent to the teacher three days ago had just returned.

The sound of the Yellow River water flowed nearby as Fusu opened the letter.

Earlier, he had inquired about how to build a commandery.

The teacher’s reply detailed the duties of the Deputy Minister of the Treasury, subordinate workshops, weaving rooms, palace construction, even food and clothing.

Until now, Fusu had not truly understood the specific functions of the Deputy Minister of the Treasury.

Reading the reply, he gained clarity.

In short, the teacher hoped he would fully exercise the powers of his office.

After some thought, Fusu wrote a letter to send to Xianyang, arranging for craftsmen to come to Tongguan to assist with building the city walls.

Using his authority, Fusu realized he could mobilize considerable resources. These days, he had been familiarizing himself with his powers and the position of Deputy Minister of the Treasury.

Except for weapons manufacturing and imperial tomb maintenance, all other craftsmen could be dispatched.

Of course, how many could be sent depended on the prime minister’s approval.

On that front, Fusu was confident.

After finishing the letter, Fusu instructed Tian An to deliver it to Xianyang.

Then he reviewed the county documents, which reported on construction progress, much the same as the previous day, with Cheng Miao managing the twenty thousand laborers steadily.

Presently, Huayin County had sixty thousand people, the newly merged Dali County eighty thousand.

Including Jingye County and counties east of Zhongquan, the total population was about one hundred and forty thousand.

With the twenty thousand migrants, Weinan had just over three hundred thousand people.

Without these migrants, it would be only over one hundred thousand.

Fusu’s gaze shifted to the nearby sand table as noon approached.

Before the small house by the Yellow River, master and servant ate lunch quietly, each absorbed in their tasks.

In the afternoon, Tian An would doze off.

After Fusu finished organizing documents and sent them to Xianyang, he looked back to find Tian An asleep and closed his own eyes, reclining on the bamboo chair.

The two slept quietly; though Tian An was asleep, his eyes remained half-open, ready to awaken at any disturbance.

During the month at Tongguan, Fusu developed the habit of afternoon naps; missing one left him listless for the rest of the day.

One day, as Fusu grilled fish by the river, Tian An pulled extra noodles to share with children barred outside by soldiers.

Thus, whenever Tian An pulled noodles, a group of children watched eagerly.

That day was no different.

Fusu said, “Send some people to Jingye County to teach them how to make rice noodles.”

Tian An nodded and went to give orders, distributing leftover noodles to the children.

Fusu sighed, “Tian An is kind-hearted; he never scolds the rude children but cares for them.”

Sitting by the Yellow River, Fusu saw Tian An approaching.

Reflected in the calm river, the image of Fusu sitting and Tian An standing beside him looked like two souls relying on each other through the month.

“The grain hasn’t grown yet.”

“Prince, the summer harvest will bring the grain. Though it seems a long wait, it’s actually not far off.” Tian An paused, then added, “When Jingye County first began reclamation, they awaited rain. The prince said the rain should come soon, and indeed the heavens sent it, saving the crops.”

Fusu picked clean fish bones, placing a bite of fish in his mouth as he said, “Yes, the harvest will come soon enough.”

“You have many things to do, prince. As for me, this is all I have in life.”

Perhaps years of watching grain grow and be harvested had aged Tian An; each planting season marked another year.

Tian An was kind and cherished life deeply.

If the time came for his death, he would be most unwilling.

“I think life is long; never say you are insignificant.”

Tian An nodded, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

Fusu stood and said, “The teacher should be returning from Luoyang soon. He must have completed his duties there.”

Tian An replied, “I inquired earlier; Luoyang still has many matters to settle. After half a month, he should be back.”

“It’s been five days since I summoned craftsmen from Xianyang. The prime minister should have responded.”

Fusu looked toward Xianyang and murmured.

“I’ll ask the prime minister again.”

“No need. Both north and south are busy; the teacher and court are overwhelmed and likely can’t attend to me now.”

Tian An wanted to inquire of Li Si but acquiesced to the prince’s words.

A night passed with light rain, leaving the ground damp. Still no news from Xianyang, though Cheng Miao sent a document.

Cheng Miao was organizing laborers and settlers with Shusun Tong.

Fusu read the document, which stated that on the day of the harvest, the settlers wished to pay homage to Prince Fusu.

Tian An stood quietly nearby, reading the document. While the prince saw governance matters, Tian An saw the hearts of two hundred thousand people.