Chapter 90: A Thunderclap Out of Nowhere (Part Two)
Two and a half million strings of cash per year might not seem like much. Converted into silver, it amounts to merely two and a half million taels. Compared to the unchecked expenditures on river management in later eras, it truly is not much. In the Qing dynasty, the annual routine funds allocated to the Grand Canal far exceeded this sum, not to mention the special remediation budgets that often ran into the millions of taels. The issue was, despite the Tang dynasty’s renowned prosperity after three generations of diligent governance and its reputation as the Celestial Empire, its strength lay chiefly in military might; economically, it was merely average. The annual revenue in the treasury was only about seventeen million strings; after deducting administrative expenses and various sundry costs, what remained was pitifully scant. This calculation did not even account for the frequent border wars that broke out nearly every year. If one calculated carefully, the court could, at best, maintain a rough balance between income and expenditure. Even if there was a slight surplus, it would never reach two and a half million strings. Clearly, it was nearly impossible for the treasury to allocate such a sum, so the ministers’ astonishment was understandable. If they were to learn that the figure reported by Li Xian was only seventy percent of the actual need, they would surely be even more shocked, drenched in cold sweat.
“Your Highness is bold indeed; I am impressed. Yet, there is one matter I do not understand—may I ask Your Highness to clarify?” Yan Liben, though newly appointed to the Ministry of Revenue, had spent more than half a month diligently acquainting himself with the treasury’s accounts. Upon hearing Li Xian speak of a million strings as casually as he would a thousand, he was thoroughly shaken, uncertain whether to be angry or amused. Still, his purpose in stepping forward was to make things difficult for Li Xian; exposing flaws in Li Xian’s proposal would serve him well. Thus, he spoke impassively.
“If Minister Yan has any questions, please speak freely. I dare not guarantee I can answer all, but I will do my utmost.” Li Xian had been preparing his memorial on canal transport for over a year and believed he understood every aspect thoroughly. Though he knew Yan Liben was deliberately posing difficulties, he paid it no mind, smiling as he respectfully saluted, answering with utmost confidence.
“Thank you, Your Highness.” Yan Liben returned the courtesy, then, with a solemn expression, asked, “Does Your Highness know our dynasty’s annual revenue, and the surplus?”
“As far as I know, last year was a good harvest—the court’s annual revenue reached nineteen million strings, a twenty percent increase over the previous year. Most years are like the previous, with only slight fluctuations. As for the surplus, I do not know; since Minister Yan manages the Ministry of Revenue, he must be more familiar than I.” The treasury’s surplus was a closely guarded state secret. Though Li Xian, as a prince, was esteemed, he too was not privy to the precise figures; he merely knew that the treasury was not particularly abundant. Yet, Li Xian was unconcerned about the current surplus, for he had other plans to fund the river works. Thus, even knowing Yan Liben’s question was ill-intentioned, Li Xian answered lightly.
“Your Highness’s knowledge of the revenue bespeaks ambition; I am impressed.” Yan Liben’s words were barbed, implying that Li Xian was restless in his princely station and harbored ambitions. At this, Li Xian’s expression darkened, glaring at Yan Liben, poised to retort but restrained himself—he dared not lose decorum in the court. His anger was visible in his thickened neck; if looks could kill, Yan Liben would have died a thousand deaths. Unfortunately, Yan Liben was unfazed, indifferent to Li Xian’s displeasure, and continued, “Last year’s bumper harvest yielded a slight surplus—seventy thousand strings, the highest on record. The treasury now holds twelve million strings; after deducting this year’s projected expenditures, less than one million strings remain available. I truly do not know whence Your Highness proposes to procure the million strings required. I ask Your Highness to enlighten me.”
“Minister Yan, your devotion to duty is admirable. I, too, am moved.” Li Xian was stung by Yan Liben’s earlier words, and though he knew this was not the time to quarrel over rank, he could not resist a pointed retort, alluding to Yan Liben’s allegiance to the Crown Prince and his lack of decorum as a high official. His riposte was swift, but Yan Liben’s composure was exemplary; he was unmoved, his face expressionless, standing patiently as if waiting for Li Xian to give a reasonable explanation. This left Li Xian with a sense of futility, as if punching the air, and though he was frustrated, he had no way to deal with Yan Liben at this moment. Thus, he bit his lip and, with a hint of resentment, continued, “When did I ever say I would draw funds from the treasury? Perhaps Minister Yan misheard. Indeed, canal transport requires vast sums, but as it concerns the stability of the realm, it must be pursued with utmost effort. If undertaken gradually over ten years, the treasury would not be strained; unfortunately, distant water cannot quench urgent thirst. At present, the Guanzhong region lacks millions of bushels of grain. If relief is not forthcoming, famine will ensue. To accomplish the works in four years will be arduous but will address the immediate crisis. I dare not shrink from difficulties; I will strive to fulfill my duty!”
“I wish to hear the details.” Li Xian spoke with passionate resolve, but Yan Liben was unmoved. As soon as Li Xian finished, Yan Liben pressed further, making it clear he didn’t believe Li Xian could conjure funds out of thin air.
“Father, I have several plans to gather the required funds for canal works without drawing from the treasury. I beseech you to judge wisely.” Driven to desperation by Yan Liben’s relentless questioning, Li Xian finally realized that Yan Liben was simply there to find fault. No more words were needed; rather than spar with him, it was better to appeal directly to the Emperor. Without even glancing at Yan Liben, Li Xian turned and bowed deeply to Emperor Gaozong, raising his voice to report.
“Oh? What brilliant plans do you have, my son? Tell me, let me hear them.” Emperor Gaozong was clearly amused by the verbal sparring between Li Xian and the Crown Prince's faction. Upon hearing of a clever scheme for raising funds, his interest was piqued. Smiling, he gestured encouragingly and asked with enthusiasm.
“Father, please consider: it is not only Guanzhong that suffers repeated grain shortages; the entire west and north are likewise afflicted. Yet, the practice of brewing alcohol is flourishing everywhere, consuming vast amounts of grain. Many affairs are ruined by drunkenness. The late emperor issued several edicts banning alcohol, but the profits were too great; illicit brewing persisted, and the efforts were abandoned. I believe that since alcohol is hard to prohibit, it would be better to establish a bureau to oversee it—call it the Bureau of Alcohol, issuing alcohol licenses as proof of production. Those without licenses would be deemed illegal brewers and heavily punished, even to the point of confiscation. Each prefecture’s ** bureau could set a quota for licenses, renewed yearly, with the highest bidder receiving them. Every year, this could raise a million strings for river works. That is the first plan. The second: last month, Father issued an edict prohibiting merchants and artisans from riding horses—a wise policy to promote agriculture and restrain commerce. Yet, there are many merchants; without horses and carts, it is difficult to transport goods and make a living. I suggest relaxing the rule somewhat; let the ** bureaus sell carriage and horse licenses, allowing merchants to travel conveniently while contributing to river works. Why not? These are but my humble opinions; I ask Father to consider them carefully.” Li Xian took a deep breath and spoke at length, several minutes passing as he explained his proposals. The ministers frowned deeply, and before Li Xian finished, murmurs and private discussions filled the hall.
The Bureau of Alcohol, as an institution, was not truly innovative; there were precedents in the Bureau of Salt and Iron. Since Guan Zhong of the Spring and Autumn period implemented the “Official Mountains and Seas” policy, salt and iron had been monopolized by the state during stable periods. The Tang dynasty was no exception; the Bureau of Salt and Iron under the Ministry of Agriculture was a permanent institution managing salt and iron monopolies nationwide. In theory, adding a Bureau of Alcohol was nothing remarkable—it would merely make alcohol more expensive on the market. In practice, however, it was far from simple. Most brewing operations were controlled by powerful aristocratic families; for example, in the capital, the largest breweries belonged to the elite. Many ministers in the hall had ties to these breweries. If Li Xian’s proposal were implemented, the interests of these families would suffer substantial losses. Clearly, his proposal was like a thunderclap, leaving the ministers dizzy and stunned—no wonder the hall erupted in uproar.
“Your Majesty, I believe Prince Lu’s two proposals appear reasonable but are truly not. First, it is taboo for the court to compete with the people for profit. Second, prohibiting merchants and artisans from riding horses was intended to promote agriculture and restrain commerce; if licenses can be bought, it becomes a covert means of raising funds, undermining your intent and inviting public criticism. This is a grave error and must not be allowed. I beg Your Majesty to consider carefully!” Li Xian wished to ignore Yan Liben, but Yan Liben was not about to yield. Without waiting for Gaozong’s response, he loudly objected.
“Your Majesty, Minister Yan speaks wisely. I concur.”
“Your Majesty, the purpose of improving canal transport is the stability of the realm; if it comes at the cost of disturbing the people, the ends are reversed. It must not be allowed!”
“Your Majesty, though Prince Lu is devoted to the nation, he lacks sufficient experience. His intentions are good, but his methods are flawed. Proceed with caution!”
…
As soon as Yan Liben finished, Liu Xiangdao and other officials of the Crown Prince’s faction immediately stood up, either directly refuting Li Xian’s proposals or, with feigned kindness, blaming his lack of experience. Amidst the commotion, many neutral officials, fearing Emperor Gaozong might approve Li Xian’s memorial, also stepped forward to voice their opposition. Nearly everyone spoke against Li Xian’s ideas, and this overwhelming opposition left him in a precarious situation…