The Grand Canal Establishes a Prestige
On the day of Frost's Descent, the banks of the Bian River were packed with people.
Wu Zetian, holding the chubby Li Xian, stood on the newly built sluice gate viewing platform, feeling as if she were acting in an ancient costume version of "Super Project".
(Inner monologue: If I could post this sluice gate on WeChat Moments with the caption "The Tang Dynasty's infrastructure maniacs are online," it would definitely get tons of likes!)
Li Hong, with a serious expression, held the hourglass to record the time it took for the cargo ships to pass through the lock, looking just like a little supervisor.
Li Xian, however, had completely gone off-track, struggling to count exactly how many ships there were: "One hundred and ninety-eight, one hundred and ninety-nine... Oh dear! I've messed up the count again!"
"Your Majesty, Your Majesty," Liu Rengui, his face tanned to a bronze hue, reported loudly as he carried a map of the Grand Canal, "the eight hundred canal boats that were modified according to your guidance are all in place and ready to operate—no, ready to sail at any time!"
Wu Zetian tried her best to maintain her dignified and imperial expression: (Inner monologue: Minister Liu, did you learn this report from a storyteller?)
Li Zhi took the blueprints and professionally pointed out the problem: "Why isn't there a backup waterway for this dangerous shoal?"
“Father,” Li Hong immediately raised his hand, as if answering a question in class, “I have calculated that the money spent on digging the backup waterway is enough to buy ‘Elementary Arithmetic’ for 30,000 children!”
Wu Zetian patted her son's head with satisfaction: "Did you hear that? Even the Crown Prince knows that investing in education is more important."
She glanced at the disgruntled officials from powerful families behind her, secretly pleased: (Let's see if you still dare to say that the canal transport is a waste of manpower and resources!)
At this moment, Li Xian suddenly shouted "Ah ah" and pointed to the river.
A smug fleet suddenly appeared, cutting in line with the "Cui" flag fluttering in the wind at the bow, resembling a domineering luxury car on the highway.
(Inner monologue: Here comes the feeder!)
The Cui family's luxury ships attempted to overtake, but ended up breaking down on the treacherous shoals, creating a scene comparable to a traffic jam on a highway during the Spring Festival travel rush.
Wu Zetian slowly sipped her tea before saying, "Issue the order to impound all ships obstructing navigation. According to the new regulations, impose a fine of 50,000 taels of silver."
The head of the Cui family was so anxious he jumped up and down: "Your Majesty! These are all tributes for the palace!"
"A tribute ship?" Wu Meiniang raised an eyebrow. "Show me the documents? Without them, it's unlicensed operation, a double offense!"
Li Zhi added fuel to the fire, saying, "Didn't Minister Cui say last year that his family was so poor that all they had left was their ancestral home? This fleet looks quite impressive."
Amidst the constipated expressions of the aristocratic officials, Li Xian cheerfully fiddled with the golden abacus, shouting "Punish! Punish!"
(Inner monologue: Son, your comedic talent is off the charts!)
During the afternoon inspection of the new ship, Li Hong, a perfectionist, noticed that the number of iron nails was incorrect.
Li Xian immediately transformed into a detective, sneaking into the ship's cabin, holding up the ledger and shouting, "Brother! They're passing off inferior goods as superior ones!"
Wu Zetian flipped through the account books and sneered, "The Vice Minister of Works is also surnamed Cui? What a coincidence! It's too much of a coincidence!"
She immediately announced: "All those involved are suspended! Di Renjie, it's your turn to perform!"
Then he looked at the group of officials from humble backgrounds: "Which of you knows how to build ships?"
A dark-skinned official stepped forward excitedly: "My ancestors for three generations were all shipwrights!"
"Very good!" Wu Meiniang handed him the blueprints. "Now you're the chief engineer!"
At the victory banquet, Wu Zetian deliberately arranged for officials from humble backgrounds and sons of noble families to sit at the same table.
Watching the noblemen forced to toast the commoners, Li Zhi chuckled and said to her, "Mei Niang, your trick is as brilliant as stuffing a box of milk tea and mooncakes into one!"
(OS: How did the boss learn these words?)
She fed Li Xian, who was in her arms, fish soup and whispered, "Just wait and see, in three years the court assembly will be called the 'Humble Scholars' Tea Party'."
Late at night, Wu Zetian wrote the "Regulations for the Supervision of the Grand Canal" under the lamp.
Li Zhi, holding Li Xian who was sleeping like a little pig, sat beside him and suddenly said, "I want to give the model ship that Xian'er picked for his first birthday celebration to the son of that shipwright who did it today."
"Your Majesty is wise!" Her eyes lit up. "Perfect for promoting the idea that 'technology changes destiny'!"
Outside the window, the lights of the cargo ships fell like a galaxy.
Looking at the pile of recommendation letters from poor families on her desk, Wu Meiniang seemed to see countless students from humble backgrounds running wildly on the road to success.
(Inner monologue: What kind of prestigious families are they? They'll all be swept away by the big shots sooner or later!)
——
[Mini-Theater: A Stand-up Comedy Show Set on the Grand Canal]
(Li Xian's observations at the banquet)
Today's banquet was hilarious!
The newly appointed shipwright's son toasted Old Cui, saying, "My family's traditional skills are more useful than some family titles."
Old Cui's face was as green as spring chives.
Liu Rengui went even further, saying that the new cargo ships were too fast and suggesting that a "Speeding Fine" sign be posted on the bow of the ships.
The funniest one was the third brother, who chased after the scions of noble families with a copy of "Nine Chapters on the Mathematical Art," asking, "Can you solve the chicken-and-rabbit problem? If you can't, you can't become an official!"
(Looks like the Imperial College will be packed tomorrow.)
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