Chapter 22: Convergence of the Stars

Chapter 22: The Convergence of Stars

After Li Tai’s departure, the ministers continued attending to state affairs. Though they found the Crown Prince’s behavior somewhat surprising, compared to the weighty matters at hand, Li Tai’s concerns were trivial indeed.

Fang Xuanling glanced at Du Ruhui and asked quietly, “Does Shan Bin intend to return to Chang’an?”

“Restlessness breeds action, yet he is averse to officialdom. Since the Crown Prince’s Agricultural Academy happens to need personnel, it’s practical to have him stay there for a while. Perhaps he can also guide the Crown Prince’s future onto the right path,” Du Ruhui replied calmly. “Whether the Crown Prince is immature or ambitious, at least he is right about one thing: if Confucianism itself has flaws, only by reflecting on the myriad schools of thought can we find the root of the problem.”

“So you just planted someone directly into the Agricultural Academy!” Fang Xuanling tapped the table in surprise. “The Crown Prince may be young and clever, but is he really that cunning?”

Du Ruhui was unperturbed. “The Junior Preceptor once told me about Li Tai. Having a contingency plan now might reduce future conflicts. After all, the Crown Prince is the greatest threat to the heir apparent.”

Fang Xuanling sighed and said no more. Both men had lived through the Xuanwu Gate Incident and wanted to avoid another such event. Placing loyal people around Li Tai to strip away any means of rebellion was only natural—almost an effortless task.

Still, Fang Xuanling admitted Li Tai’s initiative in requesting personnel for his Agricultural Academy was a masterstroke. Whether it was to develop the academy in the present or to ensure its future achievements, it gave Emperor Taizong peace of mind. Du Ruhui had capitalized on this to place his men without hesitation, and the emperor, trusting Du Ruhui’s judgment, took it seriously. It wasn’t a matter of mistrust but prudence.

Since attention was focused, more resources could be invested. If Li Tai could truly uncover the reasons behind the Han’s downfall, any investment would be worthwhile.

In short, because Li Tai had invited this collaboration, the Agricultural Academy—still in its infancy—had become a complex microcosm of society. To some extent, Li Tai intended to maintain this complexity, believing it would help students grow stronger.

For Li Tai, the diversity of the academy’s composition was no concern; having it under his control meant everything ultimately belonged to him.

Fang Xuanling hoped Li Tai’s request stemmed from instinct and not a clear understanding of the political intricacies involved. If the latter were true, then an eight-year-old Crown Prince was already formidable—what hope would the heir apparent have in ten or twenty years?

Fang Xuanling harbored deep doubts.

Soon, however, the ministers set aside this matter. The Tang Dynasty was enduring a difficult year, and the Turks were in no better shape.

Early winter brought fierce snowstorms across the northern steppes, killing many cattle and sheep. The Xueyantuo leader Yinan rebelled against the Eastern Turks.

Upon receiving this news, Emperor Taizong decided to exploit the Xueyantuo to divide the Eastern Turks. Even a minor foothold on the steppe was preparation for future campaigns.

“Jieli’s tyranny has driven the Xueyantuo to revolt. If we cannot resolve this swiftly, we may witness a repeat of the Sui dynasty’s fate,” Fang Xuanling pondered, holding the intelligence reports. He sensed a crucial move was needed to seize this opportunity.

“But we suffered locust plagues this year. Unless next year passes peacefully, launching a distant campaign will not be easy,” Du Ruhui pointed out, keenly aware of the obstacles.

“Establish border farms and wait for the right moment!” Fang Xuanling suggested, indicating the position of Xia Prefecture. “Whether Jieli suppresses the Xueyantuo will be clear within three years. We should store provisions there. If turmoil breaks out in the Eastern Turks, Xia Prefecture can immediately supply the troops.”

“Feasible,” Du Ruhui agreed. “Even if no conflict arises, the emperor’s future northern campaigns will pass through here. Maintaining agricultural reserves is prudent. The problem lies in the personnel.”

Fang Xuanling considered, “Dou Jing… If this mission fails, sending him to Xia Prefecture would be fitting. But with the Crown Prince involved, we cannot assign the diligent Dou Jing to border farming—that would be too conspicuous!”

“Assign someone else. Zhao Yuankai performed well recently. Though somewhat sycophantic, he is a capable official. Let him be prefect of Xia Prefecture and oversee farming,” Du Ruhui proposed. “At least this elevates him to a proper fourth-rank position.”

“Agreed. Let him temper his flaws; after Dou Jing, he can take over the Ministry of Agriculture,” Fang Xuanling concurred.

Originally, Dou Jing was to endure two years of hardship in Xia Prefecture, but thanks to the Ministry of Agriculture resolving the locust disaster, Dou Jing’s role was neither outstanding nor poor. Thus, Zhao Yuankai became the one sent to the frontier, a promotion indeed, with the possibility of future military achievements.

Whether Zhao Yuankai would faint from joy upon hearing of his promotion was but a glimpse into the personnel reshuffling.

Since the Wei River alliance, Emperor Taizong never ceased his desire to redeem himself against the Turks. The encirclement gradually expanded from the first year of Zhenguan, with Xia Prefecture reclaimed this year in battles against the Turks.

Yet these national affairs still felt distant to Li Tai. He returned from the Eastern Palace buoyantly, visited Empress Zhangsun, and planned to return to his residence before sunset.

Ma Zhou was already waiting at the Crown Prince’s manor. Seeing Li Tai’s calm and cheerful demeanor, he clasped his hands and congratulated, “Congratulations, Your Highness. It seems you have successfully retained the textile industry.”

Though unaware of Li Tai’s particular concern for textiles, Ma Zhou understood its value as an asset. It was best to absorb it, strengthening the Crown Prince’s household.

“You’ve come just in time!” Li Tai waved him over. “I have some matters requiring your assistance.”

“Hm?” Ma Zhou looked puzzled, uncertain what Li Tai’s new issue might be.

“Besides the Agricultural Academy’s expenses, I want to acquire as many coal mines in Chang’an as possible,” Li Tai said solemnly.

“Coal mines?” Ma Zhou frowned. “Coal is not rare around the Jing and Wei rivers, but only mining operations tied to steel production are truly profitable. Are you planning to enter the steel business? If so, I advise you to focus on the academy instead.”

Since the salt and iron monopolies began, anyone attempting to meddle in these industries risked rebellion. Ma Zhou hoped Li Tai would not act unwisely now.

“Where did you get that idea?” Li Tai laughed, half angry. “How could I rebel when the dragon throne belongs to Emperor Taizong? I’d be mad to oppose him!”

“Coal is combustible and fundamental,” Li Tai explained. “Humans are defined by tool use. From the Bronze Age to the Qin and Han dynasties’ ironwork, the essence lies in humans controlling ever higher temperatures. I want to control coal because I’ve witnessed its power this winter—it is our foundation!”

“Foundation?” Ma Zhou looked puzzled but intrigued.

Li Tai nodded. “Since the first spark lit by the mythic Suiren, our history has been a pursuit of higher temperatures, mastering and applying them to society. I want to know if we have fully exploited coal’s potential. If not, what might burning coal to its extreme achieve?”

“Your Highness, I cannot answer such profound questions,” Ma Zhou admitted. Though knowledgeable, the unknown still filled him with wonder and uncertainty.

Li Tai said earnestly, “Therefore, I want to conduct experiments with more coal—to analyze its properties, understand its principles, and perhaps use it to transform the world! Two small mines are insufficient; I need coal mining across the entire Guanzhong region.”

“At least, every commoner who wants to boil water should have coal delivered to their city, town, or village,” Li Tai continued.

Hearing this, Ma Zhou’s imagination stirred, but he knew realizing such a vision would be far off. Even establishing a teahouse charging a penny per kettle in every city was difficult—only the capital could manage that.

Yet Li Tai’s grand vision was so beautiful that Ma Zhou found himself willing to stand by the Crown Prince’s side, helping realize his dreams step by step.

“I understand. I will strive to acquire new coal mines with the profits,” Ma Zhou promised.

Li Tai nodded. “I hope the heads of each department whom Father found for me arrive soon. During winter, I want to draft a simple three-year development plan for the academy, so they can implement it thoroughly.”

“A three-year development plan?” Ma Zhou asked with curiosity. “What is that?”

“I’ll write the outline; you fill in the details,” Li Tai said kindly.

“Very well!” Ma Zhou smiled, eager to see Li Tai’s plans.

In truth, Li Tai approached this task with the zeal of a student on the last day of vacation before exams. By day’s end, discarded papers piled half a man’s height. Bai He came in to organize the papers, bringing fruit and snacks, occasionally helping with ink grinding.

Meanwhile, as Li Tai fervently wrote the academy’s future plan, a letter arrived at the chamber of Du Chuke, who was cultivating on Mount Song. Reading the letter from his elder brother, Du Chuke murmured, “The Crown Prince wants me to oversee the ink department of his Agricultural Academy? Well, at least it offers a chance to observe Emperor Taizong up close. Though my brother sees him as the perfect ruler, is he truly so in my eyes?”

Du Chuke waved to a young attendant beside him. “My brother calls me to Chang’an; I shall no longer practice here.”

Not far away, Sun Simiao, who had secluded himself in Mount Taibai for seventy years studying medicine, also received Emperor Taizong’s summons. When Taizong first ascended the throne, he had invited Sun Simiao, but the sage declined, disliking official positions.

This time, the emperor hoped to keep the divine physician in Chang’an, so that even if his own health faltered, having such a doctor nearby would provide reassurance.

“Medicine department…” Sun Simiao pondered the emperor’s invitation to lead the academy’s medical division. He had been preparing a medical treatise during his seclusion on Changbai Mountain. With court resources, researching and writing this book would be easier, fulfilling his lifelong ambition.

As Du Chuke and Sun Simiao joined the Agricultural Academy with their own intentions, Emperor Taizong also summoned Li Chunfeng. Once a minor official at the Bureau of Astronomy, Li Chunfeng was about to be promoted when the emperor abruptly transferred him to Li Tai’s academy, removing his previous title.

As Du Ruhui had noted, sending regular officials to manage the academy was impractical; its staffing could not be formalized within the bureaucracy. Yan Qinli, Ma Zhou, and others were directly under the Crown Prince’s household and served nominally at the academy because Li Tai was its founder. Others, such as the department heads, were civilian scholars.

Thus, with imperial support, individuals with various ambitions began converging upon the Agricultural Academy in Chang’an.

(End of Chapter)