Chapter 48: The Grand Plan Begins (Part Two)

Although Li Xian's face was full of smiles, there was a slight annoyance in his heart—not because of Lin Qi’s lack of manners, for in Li Xian’s eyes, Lin Qi was no more than a featherweight and hardly worth his attention. What truly troubled Li Xian was the construction of his own base of power; not whether it should be done, but when it should be started. The road to the imperial throne was long and winding, fraught with peril, and could rightly be called a protracted war. Without the support of a solid foundation, even if Li Xian possessed extraordinary abilities, he would never reach the end. This was an undeniable fact, one of which Li Xian was keenly aware. Originally, he had planned to wait a year or so before undertaking this matter, but Lin Qi’s disturbance today had clearly changed his mind.

When it came to discerning people, Li Xian believed himself second to none, not out of arrogance but well-founded confidence. If nothing else, memories from his past life alone ensured his ability to judge the qualities of officials, not to mention his extensive experience navigating the bureaucracy in later eras. This combination allowed Li Xian to see beneath the surface to the heart of things. Discovering talent was one thing, but recruiting it for his own use was another entirely. It was precisely this latter challenge that forced Li Xian to proceed cautiously.

In the early flourishing days of the Tang dynasty, the seasoned generals were gradually passing away, leaving few successors, but the civil officials were at their peak—talent abounded in the court. Not only were existing officials like Hao Chujun and Dai Zhide men of both reputation and substance, but those still in obscurity were equally promising: Di Renjie, Pei Xingjian, Pei Yan, Luo Binwang, to name a few. Truly, there was no shortage of talent. Unfortunately, these capable men were all gentlemen, not the sort Li Xian’s awkward status could readily draw to his side. Even with his acquaintance with Luo Binwang, Li Xian dared not openly recruit him, but could only wait for the most opportune moment. As for other talented ministers, hopes were even slimmer; it was a matter of taking things step by step and waiting for the right opportunity in the future. All in all, the number of great talents Li Xian could immediately use was not many. Fortunately, at this moment, he did not require pillars of the state, only ordinary officials who could obey orders and possessed modest ability, whose sole purpose was, in fact, to rally and cheer for him.

Since the Emperor Gaozong ascended the throne, the court in the Yonghui years had continued the clean governance of the Zhenguan era, and upright officials filled the halls. However, after the banishment of virtuous men like Zhangsun Wuji, the atmosphere had gradually deteriorated, especially following Empress Wu’s disruption of the government. Figures such as Li Yifu and Xu Jingzong were greedy and base, and their influence led to growing corruption throughout the bureaucracy. The upper echelons retained some integrity, but the lower ranks had long become spoiled. Though corruption was not yet rampant, the pursuit of profit had become an undeniable trend. In this environment, it was not too difficult for Li Xian to recruit a group of cheerleaders; the real challenge was ensuring their loyalty. If Li Xian were to act too boldly, he would certainly arouse suspicion—not only from his brothers, who would unite against him, but also from Empress Wu, who would never tolerate such actions. Thus, maintaining the proper balance became the primary consideration for Li Xian.

Building a base of power was no easy task; on the contrary, it required great expense, substantial funds, and careful management over time. According to Li Xian’s original plan, it was not urgent to begin—he could use Li Xian’s people for now. But with Lin Qi’s recent behavior, Li Xian was compelled to move up his schedule. His nature simply would not allow him to be controlled by others, so he needed to carefully consider where to begin.

Political matters were difficult, not for ordinary people to handle, but for Li Xian, it was not a major problem—he had spent three lifetimes doing this work. What truly troubled him was a single issue: money. Large amounts, even vast amounts of money! Certainly, as a prince with a real estate of three thousand households, Li Xian was not short of funds; he could live luxuriously if he wished. But to accomplish great things with only his salary and the income from two estates was far from enough. He was clear on this point, and had even drawn up plans in his spare time, though he had not been in any hurry to implement them. The two greatest obstacles were: first, how to proceed without causing a stir in the court—Li Xian did not want to be drowned out by the censors before earning any money, and if the Crown Prince or Empress Wu were to take the opportunity to strike, all would be lost; second, where to find the right person to oversee matters. This person must not only be skilled in finance and business, but also absolutely loyal, to ensure nothing could go wrong. Clearly, Li Xian could perhaps manage the first through careful planning, but the second was a headache—he saw no such person in his household, not even a clue as to where to look.

“How much surplus do we currently have in the household?” After pondering for a long time, Li Xian’s head ached from the effort, unable to find a good solution. He frowned, unconsciously tapping the table, and asked absentmindedly.

“I’m not sure, Your Highness. Shall I go ask the accounting office?”

While Li Xian was deep in thought, Gao Miao dared not interrupt, quietly accompanying him until the question was asked. He hurried to stand up and replied hesitantly.

“Very well. Bring the steward as well,” Li Xian nodded, giving a casual order.

“Yes, Your Highness. Please wait; I’ll go at once.”

Li Xian had always spent freely and never asked about the accounts—Gao Miao, who had served him since childhood, was well aware of this. Hearing Li Xian suddenly inquire about the finances, he was naturally puzzled but dared not ask, quickly agreeing and rushing off to the accounting office. In a short while, he returned with a middle-aged man dressed as a steward.

“Your servant Gao Tusheng greets Your Highness.”

The steward of the accounts was not part of the official staff of the prince’s residence but belonged to the household servants. Though not an official, he managed the finances of a vast princely estate, and the profits were evident—his round, plump figure said as much. Of course, his appointment owed partly to being a distant cousin of Gao Miao, and more so to his skill with accounts. Over the years, he had managed the accounts well, though he was not above petty corruption. Suddenly summoned to the study, he was understandably anxious. Seeing Li Xian seated above, his legs grew weak; without waiting for Gao Miao’s cue, he hurried forward and knelt, not daring to raise his head.

“Rise. I have questions for you.”

Li Xian rarely concerned himself with the accounts, but his experience in later bureaucracies had taught him that accountants often manipulated the books. Still, such petty sums were beneath his notice. Seeing Gao Tusheng so nervous, he guessed the reason but did not bother to expose him, merely speaking calmly.

“Yes, yes, Your Highness, ask whatever you wish—your servant will answer fully and honestly, I guarantee it. Please rest assured.” Gao Tusheng, flustered, babbled his assurances, but his legs remained weak, and he continued to kneel.

“How much surplus is there in the accounts now? If daily expenses are excluded, how much can be used?” Li Xian, seeing that Gao Tusheng did not dare stand, ignored him, merely frowning and asking calmly.

“Your Highness, there is a surplus of four thousand five hundred and thirty-two strings of cash. After daily expenses, only about six hundred strings can be used. If Your Highness is not in urgent need, after the summer harvest, the East and West estates might yield more.” Hearing that Li Xian only wanted to know about the surplus, Gao Tusheng felt slightly relieved, quickly kowtowing and answering.

“Six hundred strings?” Hearing such a small sum, Li Xian’s frown deepened. He murmured and then asked, “Explain—how much income from the East and West estates?”

“Your Highness, after the summer harvest, the East estate will yield about two hundred strings, with the same at year’s end. The West estate yields only half as much. Altogether, perhaps three hundred strings, and if squeezed, maybe four hundred.” Seeing Li Xian’s displeasure, Gao Tusheng hurried to answer.

“What? Why is there such a difference? Speak!”

Li Xian seldom visited the estates, but he knew their general situation. Though they were on opposite sides of the capital, their size, location, and labor were similar. Hearing that one estate produced twice as much as the other, he grew suspicious and snorted coldly.

“Your Highness, please do not be angry. There are reasons for this, if Your Highness will allow me to explain. The West estate’s yield is not low—other estates of similar size in the capital produce about the same, and if poorly managed, even less. The East estate’s higher yield is entirely thanks to Steward Deng Cheng’s skillful management, not your servant’s flattery. If Your Highness doubts me, send someone to investigate and you will find my words true.”

“Deng Cheng?”

Since Emperor Gaozong’s gift, Li Xian had visited the East and West estates only two or three times, and that was three years ago. He had little impression of the stewards. Hearing Gao Tusheng praise Deng Cheng’s abilities, Li Xian became interested, glancing at Gao Miao but saying nothing more.

“Your Highness, I do know something about this. Deng Cheng is from Taiyuan, originally a scholar, but his family fell on hard times and he could not continue his studies, turning to business instead. He came to the capital to trade goods a few years ago but suffered a fire, losing both goods and funds, unable to return home. He sought help through acquaintances and came to me. Seeing him honest, I entrusted him with the East estate, and it has been three years now. He has proven most capable.” Seeing Li Xian’s gaze, Gao Miao quickly nodded and explained what he knew.

Ah, just when I needed a pillow, someone brought one—how amusing, truly amusing! Hearing Gao Miao’s account, Li Xian’s lips curled into a playful smile…