Chapter 85 Embers and New Sprouts
The Empress's coffin was temporarily placed next to the still-under-construction Xuan Palace at Zhaoling Mausoleum, awaiting formal burial after the mausoleum's completion. The months-long period of national mourning was finally drawing to a close, but Chang'an did not immediately regain its former vibrancy and color. The "fire of rumors" ignited by Li Yuan and ultimately costing the Empress her life, though temporarily extinguished by the national mourning and the Emperor's iron-fisted suppression, still burned fiercely, searing the hearts of many and subtly changing some things.
The atmosphere in the Eastern Palace was the first to be affected. After sending off his mother's coffin, Li Chengqian seemed to have been drained of even the last bit of strength he had been holding on to. Upon returning to the Eastern Palace, he did not "return to normal" as the outside world had expected; instead, he became even more withdrawn. He continued to handle the ever-increasing amount of government affairs assigned by his father, reviewing memorials until late at night and meticulously discussing matters with his subordinates. But his eyes remained cold and empty, as if he were wearing a cold mask, shutting out all his true emotions deep inside.
He began frequently staying overnight in his study, growing increasingly distant from Crown Princess Su and the other concubines. However, observant people would notice that among the newly arrived lower-ranking concubines and attendants of the Eastern Palace, one or two possessed an inexplicable calmness in their demeanor and acted with exceptional composure and discretion. Their origins were neither high nor low; their families were respectable but not illustrious. Their arrival by the Crown Prince had caused little stir, as if they were merely ordinary palace servants added arbitrarily by the Crown Prince in his grief over his mother's death. No one would connect them with the reclusive Protector of the Nation, and even if someone occasionally felt a sense of familiarity, they would immediately suppress the thought—who would dare to easily touch upon that taboo topic at this moment?
The other concubines who entered the palace at the same time were all different in style—some were beautiful, some lively, and some gentle—and they distracted everyone's attention. Li Chengqian didn't seem to have any particular favoritism towards them either; his rewards and summons followed fixed, inconspicuous rules. Only he knew that on some utterly exhausted nights, when he was alone facing the lamp, the occasional figure that appeared, carrying a familiar and serene aura, could bring him a moment of false peace to his nerves, which were taut to the point of almost breaking. He strictly followed his mother's last instructions, burying that feeling that had been declared "unacceptable," along with the distorted coping mechanisms his mother had taught him, deep and hidden from the light of day.
On the surface, the court remained calm. Under Li Jing's steady and methodical advance, the main force of the Tuyuhun army retreated, the border was temporarily at peace, and the withdrawal of part of the army eased logistical pressure. Li Shimin gradually resumed his regency, but the somber expression in his eyes and the occasional sharp scrutiny made the officials more cautious than ever. The emperor showed clear reliance on the crown prince, entrusting him with more and more specific administrative matters and frequently affirming the prince's insights in court. As for Prince Wei, Li Tai, the emperor's attitude was polite but distant; he continued to bestow generous rewards but rarely entrusted him with real power, and often expressed undisguised annoyance towards the increasingly active literati and scholars under Li Tai's patronage.
Changsun Wuji's power actually increased after the Empress's death. The Emperor seemed to have transferred some of his grief and guilt over his deceased wife to his lenient treatment of the Changsun family. Changsun Wuji stood even more firmly behind the Crown Prince, using his positions as Minister of Personnel and Prime Minister to quietly pave the way for the Crown Prince and eliminate his political opponents. The Wei Prince's faction resented this intensely but dared not make any major moves for the time being.
Wang Yi continued her semi-secluded life. Qixia Garden became a special place in the palace, a tacitly approved and quiet corner. She would regularly enter the palace to meet the emperor, reporting on the progress of those "safe" projects concerning people's livelihood: the promotion of the new spinning wheel, the yield report of the improved rice varieties in the trial planting in Jiangnan, the preliminary experimental results of the smallpox inoculation method in the army... Her reports were always detailed in data, clear in organization, without any personal emotions, and never overstepped the boundaries to discuss politics or personnel.
Li Shimin seemed quite satisfied with, even dependent on, her "duty." He gradually grew accustomed to listening to her calm and unwavering voice recount the practical "good things" far removed from the power struggles of the court during lulls in his busy or stressful schedule. This was like a mental respite, allowing him to temporarily escape the heavy burden of his imperial role. Sometimes, he would ask her for her opinions on specific matters (such as supervising the distribution of disaster relief funds and repairing local schools). Wang Yi's answers always stemmed from technical and managerial perspectives, offering concrete and feasible suggestions without ever touching on factionalism or personnel evaluations. This purely pragmatic style was especially precious in the current court, shrouded in suspicion and rife with insecurity.
On this day, after Wang Yi finished reporting on the review of the first draft of the "Simple Handbook for Epidemic Prevention" compiled by the Imperial Medical Bureau, she was about to take her leave when Li Shimin stopped her.
"Please wait, Your Excellency." Li Shimin looked up from behind a mountain of memorials, rubbed his temples, and his face showed undisguised exhaustion. "Recently, many places have reported that after the spring drought, there are signs of locusts breeding again. Although the Ministry of Agriculture and local governments have organized swatting and egg-digging according to old practices, I fear that the effect will be ineffective. What about the method you mentioned before, using ducks to control locusts, how about trying it in Guanzhong?"
Wang Yi pondered for a moment before replying, “Your Majesty, last year we conducted a small-scale trial in three counties of Jingzhao Prefecture, and the results were remarkable. Ducks are highly effective at consuming locusts and also fertilize the fields. This year, we have expanded the program to seven prefectures in Guanzhong, pre-allocating ducklings to duck farmers and signing purchase contracts. If a locust plague occurs, the ducks can be driven into the fields immediately. This method is less expensive than simply using manpower to swat the locusts and also reduces damage to the seedlings from trampling. I have already submitted a detailed plan and budget to the Ministry of Agriculture and the Ministry of Revenue.”
"Hmm." Li Shimin nodded, his brows slightly relaxed. "You've put in a lot of effort on this matter. Also... before her death, the Empress mentioned to me many times that the palace's expenses, especially those of the harem, should set an example of frugality for the entire nation. After she passed away, I observed that although the expenses of the inner court had been reduced, there were still areas where savings could be made. I know you are unwilling to concern yourself with palace affairs, but do you have any suggestions on 'cost-cutting'?"
This is a delicate matter. It involves the inner palace and has always been a sensitive issue. Wang Yi quickly weighed his options and said, “Your Majesty, the expenditures of the palace depend primarily on systems and oversight. I have heard that during the Han Dynasty, there was a ‘Shaofu’ (Minister of the Treasury) who managed taxes from mountains, seas, ponds, and lakes to support the palace, independent of the Dasinong (Grand Minister of Agriculture). Our system is different, but perhaps we can learn from its spirit of ‘separate accounting, fixed-amount disbursement, and year-end auditing.’ Specifically, we can order the relevant officials to redefine the levels and details of expenditures for each palace and department within the inner palace, strictly adhering to the regulations, with no reimbursement for overspending, and any surplus can be transferred to rewards or retained. Furthermore, the repair of palace artifacts and the procurement of textiles can be subject to a bidding and pricing mechanism between the Jiangzuojian (Directorate of Works) and Shaofujian (Minister of the Treasury) to prevent waste. The detailed terms and conditions must be determined by the Empress… or the person in charge of palace affairs, in conjunction with the relevant government departments; I dare not presume to offer specific suggestions.”
She once again steered the issue toward the institutional and technical levels, proposing the ideas of "separate revenue quotas" and "introducing external pricing," and cleverly delegated the specific implementation to the "person in charge of palace affairs" (currently temporarily handled by the Imperial Concubine, but with dispersed and unstable power), thus providing direction while avoiding suspicion of directly interfering in the personnel affairs of the harem.
Li Shimin listened thoughtfully. Wang Yi's suggestions were always like this: they didn't involve power struggles, only focusing on improving efficiency and reducing waste—sounding "safe" and useful. He waved his hand: "I understand. You may leave."
"Your subject takes his leave."
Stepping out of the Liangyi Hall, the early summer sun was somewhat dazzling. Wang Yi squinted slightly. She knew that while the emperor seemed to be inquiring about specific matters, he was actually testing her, or rather, habitually seeking a "de-emotional" solution from her. This was good for her, meaning her role as a "technocrat" and a "safe listener" was further solidified.
But she also knew that beneath the surface of calm lurked dangers. Li Chengqian's mental state was a huge hidden danger; Li Tai and his cronies would never be content to remain silent; the wait-and-see and speculative sentiments arising from the death of the empress and the uncertainty of the succession were still spreading in the court; and even the emperor himself, with his deep-seated suspicion and paranoia hidden beneath his grief, might erupt under some trigger.
She needs more "safe assets".
Upon returning to Qixia Garden, Wang Yi immediately summoned several young key personnel she had secretly cultivated from the Imperial Medical Bureau and the Directorate of Works. These individuals came from relatively humble backgrounds, but they were talented, hardworking, and most importantly, they were deeply interested in and respected her teachings on "investigating things to apply them to practical use" and her efficient and pragmatic work methods. They were also relatively far removed from the factions within the court.
"How is the water conservancy survey data for Jiangnan Province being compiled?" she asked one of them.
"Reporting to the Master, the main rivers, canals, ponds, and historical records of floods and droughts in the eleven prefectures have been preliminarily compiled, and detailed maps are being drawn up with key nodes marked. Following the Master's instructions, locations where simple sluice gates and diversion channels may be built to cope with localized droughts and floods have been marked."
"What about the feedback on the pilot implementation of the grain storage verification and old grain rotation procedures in the 'charitable granaries' of various counties in Guanzhong?"
"Seven counties have already reported that the new regulations have reduced losses and embezzlement, and the people find it more convenient to borrow and return grain. This is a detailed report."
Wang Yi carefully reviewed the reports and drawings they submitted, occasionally offering suggestions for revision or further instructions. Quietly, she was building a small, locally-rooted elite network, operating under the banner of "technological improvement" and "practical matters concerning people's livelihoods." These individuals did not wield core power, but their work concerned the minutiae of national welfare and people's well-being. Accumulated over time, this network could not only do tangible good but also, when necessary, serve as her probes for observing the political situation and transmitting information (in extreme circumstances).
At the same time, she began to systematically organize various modern knowledge, especially engineering technology, agriculture, medicine, and management science, refining and translating it into "new-style textbooks" or "work manuals" that suited the cognitive level and acceptance of the times. She then quietly disseminated this knowledge through channels such as the Imperial Medical Bureau, the Directorate of Works, and the Ministry of Agriculture. Knowledge itself is the most difficult force to completely erase or monopolize.
In the stillness of the night, Wang Yi would recall Empress Zhangsun's heavy and twisted entrustment on her deathbed, and the deathly coldness in Li Chengqian's eyes. She could sense that something within that young man had changed, or been forcibly distorted. Perhaps the final protection of maternal love had also simultaneously extinguished something bright within him.
But she was powerless. Her primary task was to protect herself, to fulfill her promise to Empress Zhangsun—to take good care of Li Shimin, and, in this perilous world, to leave behind as many positive "traces" as possible that would not easily disappear with the change of power.
Outside the window, the lotus flowers in Qixia Garden are just beginning to bloom, standing gracefully under the moonlight. Summer insects are starting to chirp, full of vitality.
The era of the Empress has ended, leaving behind endless sorrow and unresolved conflicts. A new era is quietly being conceived amidst the embers of mourning, but no one can say for sure whether what sprouts from the ground will be a new bud or another thicket of thorns.
Wang Yi blew out the lamp, letting herself blend into the silent darkness. The road ahead remained shrouded in mist; she could only hold tightly to her "knowledge" and "reason," proceeding cautiously step by step. At least, on this summer night, the lotus flowers in Qixia Garden were in full bloom.
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