Chapter 17: The Difference in Understanding

Chapter 17: Differences in Understanding

For Li Tai, Zheng Fengzhi was truly just a minor episode; if he weren’t short on cash, he wouldn’t have bothered to get involved with him.

At this moment, having purchased land in various wards and markets across Chang’an, Li Tai instructed his construction team—already skilled in building heated kang beds—to begin constructing integrated facilities offering boiling water, bathing, and even sauna services, all for a fee.

If one came just to fetch a jin of boiling water, it cost one wen; bathing was five wen, and with sauna service, ten wen.

In other words, any commoner who paid could enjoy a hot bath even in the depths of winter.

Of course, Li Tai understood that once the business flourished, imitators would inevitably arise.

But leaving that aside, the most crucial factors were twofold: first, coal. He had gathered the displaced labor force needed to mine coal, ensuring stable prices—why should others have the same advantage?

Second was the kang bed technology. After practical refinement in Li Tai’s hands, it had become much more advanced.

Having acquired these houses, Li Tai undertook comprehensive renovations, upgrading the kang beds with full waterproofing—a costly investment but well worth it.

This ensured that indoors, people would not feel the cold; especially when bathing, their feet remained warm.

Such features made it difficult for other bathhouses to emulate.

With these two protective moats, Li Tai was not claiming that his boiling water bathhouses would monopolize Chang’an, but they would certainly possess strong competitiveness.

Only with profitable bathhouses could such fundamental acts of kindness truly endure.

Otherwise, any goodwill would be fleeting, for humanity is inherently driven by gain.

When there is no profit to be had, such goodwill inevitably gets consumed by harsh reality.

As the first snow of winter gently fell, the people of Chang’an noticed a shop selling boiling water appearing in the markets.

“Father, the King of Yue’s boiling water bathhouse has opened. It only costs one wen per jin of boiling water, and many people nearby are eager to fetch water from there!” Zheng Mingshang said hesitantly to Zheng Fengzhi.

“Father, the King of Yue is royal nobility; if luck favors him, he might even ascend the throne. We can’t afford to offend him. Besides, these down jackets are so popular—the King of Yue has truly benefited us. You shouldn’t stir up trouble!” Zheng Mingshang cautioned.

“Which eye did you see that I want to provoke the King of Yue with?” Zheng Fengzhi tapped his son’s head lightly.

“We haven’t made any connections with the King of Yue; this matter will definitely rot in our stomachs. But before outsiders, we must act as if we have ties with the King! We don’t care about other places, but in commerce, we must show support!” Zheng Fengzhi declared.

“I say, Father, what are you after?” Zheng Mingshang asked. “I heard that the King of Yue is only eight years old—he’s even younger than my daughter!”

“He’s eight and yet capable of managing locust plagues. You’re thirty-eight; can you shoulder the Zheng family enterprise?” Zheng Fengzhi panted heavily, a sign of his age, then continued.

“I shouldn’t have been so arrogant before the Retired Emperor. Now so many in the court are watching our family!”

“Even so, the court must follow rules, right?” Zheng Mingshang said timidly. “They wouldn’t just come and rob our family’s money, would they?”

“Robbing would be better—I can pay for peace! I just fear others won’t be satisfied,” Zheng Fengzhi said gravely.

“After pacifying the realm, the sage executed brothers and imprisoned fathers—he’s ruthless! When he first ascended, the Turks disrespected him and attacked. He must have been burning with anger, so war with the Turks is certain. When war breaks out, money will flow like water, and merchants like us will be squeezed dry. By then, if we don’t lose everything, we should count ourselves lucky.”

“Really? Will we fight the Turks?” Zheng Mingshang found it hard to believe.

“The sage personally founded this realm; he must repay the grievances of the Weishui Alliance!” Zheng Fengzhi was certain. “But who knows how long the war will last? Think of the Han fighting the Xiongnu, or the previous dynasty against Goguryeo—it lasted so long. Merchants like us suffer the most! If we can connect with the King of Yue, at least we can seek some protection when trouble comes!”

“If it’s about connections, why not seek the Crown Prince?” Zheng Mingshang suggested weakly. “That would be safer!”

“I would if I could! But the Crown Prince isn’t even married yet and lives entirely within the palace. Tell me, how can we connect with him?” Zheng Fengzhi looked at his foolish son.

“Stop overthinking. With the wealth we have, what we seek isn’t profit anymore, but safety. Since we have the King of Yue’s connection, we must hold onto it firmly. Riding one donkey while looking for another is something only noble families can afford. We can only play the cards we have better!”

“So what do we do?” Zheng Mingshang asked. “Should we buy boiling water every day?”

“What are you going to do with so much boiling water?” Zheng Fengzhi touched his chin.

“Pour it out...” Zheng Mingshang said boldly. “After all, it’s only one wen. The Zheng family has plenty!”

“Bang!” Zheng Fengzhi smacked his son’s head sharply. “Do you want to disgust the King of Yue, or me? If you want to avoid your whole family being implicated, you better not come up with such foolish ideas!”

“So, Father, what should we do?” Zheng Mingshang covered his head, really hurting.

“Open a hot food shop next door that needs boiling water, and buy it directly from the neighboring bathhouse...” Zheng Fengzhi pondered.

“Father, our family primarily deals in textiles and never touched food or lodging before!” Zheng Mingshang said.

“From today on, we will!” Zheng Fengzhi declared resolutely. “I’m entrusting this matter to you.”

“Okay, Father,” Zheng Mingshang answered meekly.

Soon, right next to Li Tai’s bathhouse, inns run by the Zheng family sprang up.

Suddenly, the entire food and beverage industry in Chang’an was on edge, as sharp-witted businessmen realized the city’s wealthiest family, the Zhengs, were entering the hospitality trade.

But the Zheng family had always been in silk and fabric trade—why the sudden shift?

In Chang’an, everyone had powerful backers. It was quickly discovered that the Zheng family had spent 5,000 gold taels to purchase down jackets from the King of Yue, and they maintained ongoing economic ties.

Businessmen immediately understood: after Li Tai opened the boiling water bathhouse, the Zheng family was supporting him.

Since the Zhengs were the city’s richest, Li Tai opened the bathhouse first, then Zheng Fengming bought the adjacent land and converted it into inns offering food and lodging for travelers.

“The King of Yue—the Zheng Fengzhi guy is here again with gifts...” Ma Zhou reported to Li Tai with a teasing tone.

“What?” Li Tai was puzzled. “I don’t recall buying anything.”

“They opened inns next to our bathhouse, so he sent me a gift and asked if we could supply their inns with boiling water directly, at a slightly reduced price—seven wen per boiler!” Ma Zhou said.

“What gift?” Li Tai asked.

“Twenty-year aged fine wine for me, and he asked me to give you a pair of Hetian jade pendants,” Ma Zhou replied.

“You can keep them!” Li Tai waved his hand. “That guy becoming Chang’an’s richest makes sense.”

“Better to return it,” Ma Zhou said calmly. “At least these shops have been established in every ward, so we’re off to a stable start.”

“Hmm...” Li Tai thought for a moment. “Make a monthly report for me on how much boiling water each shop buys daily, how much coal is used, and how many customers they have—especially for the first month.”

“Oh?” Ma Zhou was taken aback, then realized something. “Are you planning to claim credit from the sage? That might be rushing things.”

“No, I want the data to attract investment,” Li Tai shook his head. “I remember there’s an imperial exam coming soon.”

“In January the exam, in February the results. Most candidates come to Chang’an after late autumn for pre-exam procedures,” Ma Zhou said, his expression darkening. He had been eliminated during these very procedures.

“Pre-exam procedures?” Li Tai was puzzled, having never heard the terms.

“Before the exam, candidates compile their best poems and essays into a collection called ‘Xingjuan’ to present to prominent officials and respected figures, seeking their recognition to build fame and secure recommendations to the examiners,” Ma Zhou explained.

“The ‘Tongbang’ involves examiners investigating candidates’ reputations and virtues in society, producing ‘recommendation lists’—sometimes through assigned envoys—to guide admissions.”

Li Tai was stunned. “How do examiners identify the candidates during the exam then?”

“The exam papers have the candidate’s name—how could they not?” Ma Zhou countered.

Li Tai opened his mouth to speak but hesitated. Having to reveal one’s identity on an exam—that was risky!

He now understood why, during Emperor Taizong’s reign, most successful candidates came from noble families, while true talents from humble origins were rare. Even Ma Zhou himself had not advanced through the imperial examination route.

It wasn’t until Empress Wu Zetian implemented anonymous exams that talents from common backgrounds gradually entered the court, sparking factions like the Niu-Li disputes.

In short, though the imperial examination existed, it remained imperfect, and aristocratic power remained formidable. Unless the emperor pushed reforms, anyone attempting to change the system would face ruin.

Li Tai thought, this was a trap—whoever entered would become an enemy of the aristocracy.

“Well, at least now I know where to find teachers for our academy!” Li Tai smiled faintly.

He told Ma Zhou, “Since the bathhouse is nearly finished, it’s time to build the teaching and dormitory buildings for our agricultural academy. After the exam, we should be able to recruit most of our teachers.”

“You’re targeting those who failed the exam?” Ma Zhou immediately understood but shook his head. “It’s winter now, getting colder. The common people can hardly work.”

“Can’t work?” Li Tai wondered. “I provide food and clothing—surely that’s enough?”

“You know as well as I do, sir. The bitter wind feels like knives. If hands or feet are exposed while working, frostbite is certain. It might snow soon,” Ma Zhou said.

Li Tai blinked, realizing something he hadn’t before.

Times had changed; productivity was different. That was why Emperor Yang Guang was reviled as a foolish ruler in his time, yet future generations reconsidered him as a visionary.

The key difference was production capacity: in the future, almost all tasks rely on machinery, with workers protected by gloves, helmets, and safety measures.

So from that perspective, Yang Guang’s canal was a grand infrastructure project connecting north and south, worthy of praise.

But in this era, commoners depended on calloused hands to drag heavy stones with rough ropes over frostbitten shoulders, enduring endless forced labor through biting cold.

If lucky, they survived; if not, they perished during the conscription, repeated year after year with no end in sight.

Would you still call Yang Guang a wise ruler then?

Li Tai suddenly understood and thought of the displaced workers he had recruited for the coal mines.

He knew their work was hard but hadn’t realized their conditions were even harsher than he imagined.

After a moment of silence, Li Tai looked at Ma Zhou and said, “Zheng Fengzhi is the biggest silk and thread merchant in all of Chang’an, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Ma Zhou nodded, surprised Li Tai’s thoughts had returned to Zheng Fengzhi.

“Have him come see me,” Li Tai said. “If he wants to join us, I’ll give him a chance!”

(End of Chapter 17)