Chapter 9: Collaboration with Dou Jing

Chapter 9: Cooperation with Dou Jing

Dou Jing knew he was essentially on probation; if he performed well going forward, not only would past grievances be overlooked, but any punishment would likely be lenient. Yet if he still failed to control the locust plague, his fate was all too predictable.

“Thank you, Prince Yue, for your assistance!” After the court session dispersed, Dou Jing expressed his gratitude to Li Tai, who had taken responsibility for the matter.

“We are both wholeheartedly committed to combating the locusts, and I was merely speaking the truth,” Li Tai replied gently.

As Li Tai spoke, he recalled stepping forward to defend Dou Jing. Although Emperor Taizong offered no explicit response, in some ways, silence was the best endorsement—he could continue his efforts against the locusts.

Li Tai looked at Dou Jing and said, “Dou, this isn’t the place for discussion. Let’s return to the Ministry of Agriculture and talk in detail.”

“Please,” Dou Jing said, extending his hand in invitation.

After this incident, Dou Jing was willing to heed Li Tai’s counsel, and for Li Tai, this was a crucial first step.

As Li Tai and Dou Jing returned to the Ministry of Agriculture, Li Gang and Kong Yingda began their conversation.

Li Gang asked Kong Yingda, “Yesterday at the Locust Temple and today at court, both saw Prince Yue. What do you think of Li Tai?”

Kong Yingda was silent for a moment before responding solemnly, “Prince Yue resembles a sage.”

“Is that good or bad?” Li Gang inquired.

“We, as loyal ministers, must remain consistent. Regardless of Prince Yue’s nature, the realm ultimately belongs to the sage,” Kong Yingda answered earnestly.

“I thought you disliked Li Tai, but it seems you’ve put past matters behind,” Li Gang remarked.

“Li Taibao underestimated me. Am I really going to quarrel with a six- or seven-year-old child?” Kong Yingda’s expression shifted slightly, tinged with confusion as he asked, “Why did Li Taibao ask me that question?”

“After court adjourned, the sovereign asked if I was interested in becoming the Crown Prince’s tutor,” Li Gang said, gazing up thoughtfully.

“I wasn’t eager to decline, but seeing Prince Yue’s recent conduct has made me hesitate. I fear history might repeat itself,” he added.

Kong Yingda replied, “The Crown Prince is benevolent and filial, while Prince Yue is decisive and precocious. This is a tangled situation. I hope you consider this carefully.”

“Yes...” Li Gang sighed. “But I’m unwilling to accept defeat. Am I really incapable of raising a worthy heir?”

Kong Yingda was at a loss for words. He knew that fostering a good emperor had become an obsession for Li Gang, something he could not dissuade. For a ruler, skills like combating locusts mattered little. What mattered most was that any credit be claimed by the sovereign, while all mistakes be borne by subordinates.

Perhaps it was precisely because Prince Yue exhibited such traits today that the sovereign intensified the Crown Prince’s training.

Kong Yingda thought, “Though the sovereign admires Prince Yue’s performance, he will not risk undermining the Crown Prince’s position.”

Li Tai was unaware of Emperor Taizong’s plans for Li Gang, though even if he knew, he would likely be grateful his father was clearing the path ahead. After all, Li Gang’s reputation as a “Crown Prince destroyer” was formidable, and Li Tai felt it best to keep his distance.

At this moment, Li Tai devoted himself entirely to combating the locusts. He understood well that succeeding here would secure a steadier path forward. In the Zhenguan era, no political scheme outweighed honest effort, which made Emperor Taizong a contender for eternal greatness.

When Li Tai and Dou Jing returned to the Ministry of Agriculture, officials were stunned to see the two enter together. Just yesterday, their conduct suggested they were not on the same side; how could their relationship improve so much after one court session?

The most heartbroken was naturally Zhao Yuankai, who had rushed over upon hearing news. Watching Li Tai and Dou Jing enter Dou Jing’s office, his gaze resembled that of a favorite lunch vendor watching a customer enter a rival eatery—a sight that broke the heart and moved one to tears, as if snow might fall in June.

Yet Li Tai and Dou Jing ignored Zhao Yuankai, closing the office door firmly behind them.

“Dou Jing, thank you for Prince Yue’s support at court today,” Dou Jing began as they knelt on the bed.

“We are both part of the Ministry of Agriculture and should work together to fight the locust plague,” Li Tai replied.

Dou Jing observed Li Tai’s composed demeanor and marveled—it was hard to believe he was only eight years old.

“As long as it’s for combating the locusts, Prince Yue, the Ministry of Agriculture will fully support your reasonable commands,” Dou Jing promised.

“There are many,” Li Tai responded earnestly. “Dou Jing, are you familiar with locusts? Do you know what they feed on, their lifespan, characteristics, and what we must consider when fighting them?”

Dou Jing had thought Li Tai might be trying to win him over. Honestly, if Li Tai could help end the plague, even if Dou Jing didn’t join his faction, defending him before Emperor Taizong might not be out of place.

So Dou Jing was prepared and resolved, grateful that Li Tai had lent a hand in desperation.

But to his surprise, Li Tai immediately began discussing how to eradicate the locusts—it was clear he truly wanted to solve the problem.

This realization made Dou Jing feel somewhat ashamed.

Li Tai noticed Dou Jing’s momentary distraction and called softly, “Dou Jing?”

“Oh...” Dou Jing snapped back to attention. “Please continue enlightening me, Prince Yue.”

Seeing Dou Jing’s distracted look was clearly accidental, Li Tai pressed on.

“Locusts generally live for one season—two months at the shortest, three at the longest. That’s why we see one wave of locusts in early March, another at the end of May, and I suspect there will be another in July or August. They lay eggs in the soil, which hatch when the weather becomes warm and dry. I’ve checked records, and droughts almost always precede the locust plague, so this deduction seems sound.”

Dou Jing listened quietly. Many details he had overlooked now aligned with Li Tai’s words, and he felt a sudden clarity. The mystery shrouding the locust plague was gradually lifting in Li Tai’s explanation.

Li Tai continued, “Locusts have two stages: nymph and adult. Nymphs are harmless and can be eaten by ducks and birds, but once they become adults, they develop toxins and become inedible.”

Dou Jing nodded, enlightened. “So Prince Yue’s emphasis on raising ducks is to attack the locusts before they gather into adults.”

He now understood why Li Tai valued duck farming so highly, even pioneering artificial incubation.

Li Tai went on, “Fighting locusts isn’t just about ducks. If someone tried to rely solely on ducks to eliminate them, the results would be disappointing. We need a multifaceted approach: attacking the eggs in the soil, water management, poultry, and fire tactics.”

“Please elaborate,” Dou Jing said, sitting up straighter than when he studied in his youth.

“Attacking the eggs targets the soil,” Li Tai explained. “Adult locusts leave eggs all over the fields, some deep underground. The Ministry of Agriculture can organize people to till the fields, bringing the eggs to the surface to be sun-dried and killed. Locusts prefer dry conditions and dislike moisture. When signs of locusts appear in the wild, we can have skilled artisans invent tools to guide river water to irrigate the crops, preventing dryness and discouraging the eggs from hatching. Even if we don’t kill the eggs outright, delaying hatching is sufficient. This is the water attack.”

“Delaying hatching?” Dou Jing queried with some puzzlement.

Li Tai explained, “If we delay until October, the weather cools, and snakes and insects retreat. Locusts won’t hatch then. Postponing until next year allows us to concentrate our efforts on the remaining locusts.”

“Next is the poultry attack, targeting adult locusts?” Dou Jing asked.

“Yes,” Li Tai nodded. “But ducks might nibble on young crops, so grazing in the wild is fine, but in farmland, we must be cautious.”

“And the fire attack must be for the adults!” Dou Jing remarked, impressed.

Li Tai agreed. “Indeed, but its effectiveness is uncertain. This idea comes from moths drawn to flames. Many flying insects instinctively gather near fire at night. I don’t know if locusts behave similarly, but if it works, it’s a useful method.”

“Prince Yue’s plan is so thorough. This locust eradication will surely be twice as effective for half the effort,” Dou Jing praised.

“Sounds easy, but the real challenge is execution,” Li Tai said. “Implementing this requires funds and manpower, which the Ministry of Agriculture must provide.”

Without waiting for Dou Jing, Li Tai outlined the difficulties.

“I’ve mastered artificial incubation, but covering the entire Beijing region with ducks requires vast amounts of coal and feed. To maintain them until the next locust wave, it’s not a small matter—it needs Ministry backing. Coal will also be needed for the fire attack, so this will be a significant expense. Secondly, the Ministry must rally the people. After this wave peaks, people must reclaim fields and expose locust eggs to the sun. This demands labor and resources, possibly even conscripting corvée labor. Finally, we must mass-produce devices to channel river water into infested farmland, raising moisture levels to suppress hatching.”

Li Tai paused, then looked at Dou Jing. “Executing these plans simultaneously requires fully mobilizing the Ministry’s strength. Zhao Yuankai is a capable official but morally flawed. Currently, only you have the ability and leadership to make this work.”

Hearing the whole plan, Dou Jing understood why Li Tai had defended him at court. Li Tai’s support was not just for him but for the Tang Dynasty. At least for now, Dou Jing saw no selfish motives in Li Tai.

Dou Jing bowed solemnly. “The Ministry of Agriculture will exert itself fully in this locust fight.”

Li Tai returned the gesture. “United in purpose, we will overcome the plague.”

From this moment, the two were truly allies.

Dou Jing needed to redeem himself with achievements, while Li Tai sought to demonstrate his unique skills in battling the locusts. Their goals aligned perfectly.

Such a complex endeavor required collective effort. Someone like Zhao Yuankai, with questionable personal morals, could not effectively rally the Ministry’s officials or enthusiasm.

It was like in any organization: some people have good personal relations but falter when facing major crises. The ones who earn respect and unite everyone to solve problems, though often stern and distant, are the true leaders.

Dou Jing was that kind of man—not charming in all directions but trustworthy and reliable.

By entrusting the plan to Dou Jing, Li Tai made his greatest contribution to the Ministry.

Interfering arrogantly would only disrupt this well-established political body.

Bureaucracy might be inefficient, but that only matters when one’s position isn’t at risk.

Dou Jing knew well that if this locust battle failed again, he might be exiled to the frontier or even forced into retirement. This gave him tremendous motivation.

Since raising troops in Jinyang, Dou Jing had overseen agricultural settlements, and most officials in the Ministry were his appointees. If he fell, how many of them would prosper? They were all eager and ready.

Li Tai returned to the duck farm, focusing his attention there. With his limited strength, he could plan and advise, but real work was beyond him.

Watching the ducklings hatch, he murmured, “It’s time to move on to the next phase.”

(End of chapter)