In the fourth year of Tianqi of the Great Tang, banditry ran rampant in the Western Regions. In a single night, five counties of Yuyang Commandery fell into the hands of mounted bandits. A thousand li were reduced to barren wasteland, and the populace was stripped bare.
In the early years of the Great Tang, such an atrocity would have been recorded in the annals of history in great and damning detail. But by now, the Tang court had fallen into steep decline, and conflicts erupted everywhere. Whenever the flames of war ignited, it was common for nine out of ten households across thousands of li to be wiped out. The plundering of a few hundred thousand people was considered a minor incident, barely worthy of a footnote in local records.
The current official historian of Yuyang Commandery was a shrewd man, so he first went to ask Cui Shutong whether this affair should be recorded. He thought he was currying favor, but Cui Shutong merely remarked with utter indifference, "This official does not meddle with historians"—meaning, handle it as you see fit.
After retreating, the historian found himself thoroughly mystified. He did not know whether he should write it down or not, nor how far he should go if he did. Consumed by anxiety, he fell seriously ill.
After the historian departed, Cui Shutong's two sons grew somewhat worried, saying that if the historian scribbled indiscriminately, it might tarnish their father's reputation.
Cui Shutong could not have cared less. He declared that it was mounted bandits who had carried off the commoners of the five counties—what did that have to do with him? The historian could write whatever he pleased. Shortly afterward, Cui Shutong packed his bags and set off for the royal capital to meet the King of Zhao.
Cui Shutong was unconcerned about the history books, and Wei Yuan was equally unbothered. It was the mounted bandits who had done it—what did it have to do with him? If the histories were to record anything, it would be the founding Emperor Taizu Yuan—no, Military Commissioner of Dingxi Wei Yuan—marching forth to suppress bandits and delivering the people from fire and water.
At this moment, Qingming dispatched tens of thousands of troops, routing the Heaven-Extinguishing Gang's rampant First Battle Group and saving hundreds of thousands of common folk from their dire plight.
Afterward, the Qingming army told the populace that the mounted bandits would surely return with a vengeance to carry out vengeful massacres. The path of retreat back into Zhao was already cut off; their only option was to take temporary refuge in Qingming. Furthermore, camps and porridge pavilions had already been prepared along the road to Qingming. Although the trek would span thousands of li, everyone could set their minds at ease.
Right on cue, a Qingming merchant caravan appeared with several hundred large freight wagons.
The Qingming soldiers moved the elderly, women, and children onto the wagons to head for Qingming first. With their families already on their way, many people abandoned any lingering desire to return to their hometowns. After all, tilling the land was the same everywhere, and word had it that Qingming's soil was even richer.
Hundreds of thousands of commoners trailed onward in a magnificent, sprawling line. An escort of nearly ten thousand Qingming troops accompanied them. When officials across Western Jin saw that this was the army of the Military Commissioner of Dingxi, they immediately smoothed the way, practically bowing them out of the borders, none daring to create difficulties.
Anyone serving as an official in the Western Regions naturally knew the terror of mounted bandits. Over ten thousand bandits of the Heaven-Extinguishing Gang had once blockaded the gates of Hanyang Pass, preventing hundreds of thousands of troops inside from advancing a single step. For bandits to pull off such a feat was rare enough under heaven, and mounted bandits with heavy artillery were entirely unprecedented.
Yet no matter how arrogant the Heaven-Extinguishing Gang was, Lord Wei wiped them out in the blink of an eye—even if, not long after being crushed, they would invariably crop up again.
Because of this, those who understood the situation and those who did not all agreed on one thing: Wei Yuan was truly formidable.
After trekking for over a month, the seven hundred thousand commoners of Zhao finally arrived in Qingming just before winter set in.
This journey spanned nearly seven thousand li. Fortunately, provisions were abundant along the way, and those walking on foot were sturdy men accustomed to toil. With their bellies full and freight wagons regularly shuttling along to pick up the sick and weak, the great column of people advanced at a remarkable speed.
As they drew close to Qingming, the bitter chill vanished, and once inside, the air was almost balmy.
The populace stood completely dumbfounded. The morning mist parted to reveal mountain ranges encircling tens of thousands of mu of fertile fields divided by silver ribbons of rivers. The rich soil glistened with a thick sheen like honey. Across the boundless expanse drifted wisps of bubbling azure qi, revitalizing anyone who breathed it in and washing away all exhaustion. Though weary from the long journey, they had been well fed at every meal, and now they had arrived in such an immortal realm. The common folk felt as though they had stumbled into a dream, their faces lighting up with overjoyed grins once the reality sank in.
Was this not the paradise of their wildest dreams?
Next came the census and household registration, reuniting families, cataloging talents and skilled artisans, and explaining Qingming's various systems—most notably, the military merit framework. Afterward, groups were sent to settlements across Qingming to establish their new lives.
Qingming was already thoroughly seasoned in handling such affairs. A few hundred minor officials managed the entire process with pristine order, requiring none of Wei Yuan's personal attention.
The seven hundred thousand mortals from Zhao contributed fewer than thirty thousand threads of karmic luck to Wei Yuan. He had anticipated this; after all, they were not true displaced refugees. For uprooted people forced from their ancestral homes to yield thirty thousand threads upon arrival was already a good start.
However, as time passed and they integrated into life in Qingming, having full bellies alone would likely yield another hundred thousand threads. Once they embraced the military merit system, with some rising to free commoners and others successfully completing Body Casting, at least another two hundred thousand would roll in.
During the two months leading up to winter, Wei Yuan prepared for the arrival of the seven hundred thousand mortals on one hand and drilled his troops for war on the other, busy enough to take off like a rocket.
Yet no clear intelligence could be gathered from Western Jin. Rumors merely whispered that the northern war effort was going poorly, but precisely how poorly remained uncertain.
At court, everything seemed normal on the surface. The King of Jin attended morning court and discussed state affairs as usual.
State fortune, however, did not lie. Western Jin's fortune had bounced back slightly only when Wei Yuan brought seven hundred thousand Zhao civilians into Qingming and rushed three months' worth of trade goods into Zhao before the King of Zhao sealed the passes. Immediately after, it resumed its steady downward plunge.
Wei Yuan could not fathom why Western Jin's state fortune was deteriorating at such a rate. In the end, he could only prepare for the worst. He dug out historical biographies of venerable titles like Second Father, Vice Father, Adoptive Father, and Regent King, reading until cold sweat soaked his back—only to discover that hardly any of them had met a good end.
Over the past several months, Zhao's Bishui domain had expanded beyond a hundred li, and its inner city was nearing completion. Li Chengfeng had transferred an army of one hundred thousand from within Zhao. Yet he summoned no further reinforcements, evidently brimming with confidence in his military might.
Li Zhi was also preparing for winter, purchasing five million jin of grain from Qingming.
The Mountain Peoples' domain had distinct seasons, and winter brought bone-chilling cold. Li Zhi's domain was already self-sufficient, and Wei Yuan knew his newly formed dharma idol possessed the ability to increase yields. Even so, Li Zhi continued to make massive grain purchases, clearly amassing strategic reserves and quietly preparing for war.
A rising wind foretold the coming storm.
***
Western Jin, the Crown Prince's Manor.
Lately, the Crown Prince's manor bustled like a marketplace, packed with distinguished guests. The Crown Prince feasted envoys from various states, sometimes hosting four or five banquets in a single evening.
The Crown Prince possessed extraordinary stamina, requiring only half an hour of meditation each day. He attended court during the morning, and once court was adjourned, high-ranking officials such as the Left and Right Prime Ministers and the Ministers of the Six Ministries gathered at his residence to re-debate the day's governance. Matters already settled in the throne room often held no weight until they had been deliberated anew within the Crown Prince's halls.
The King of Jin's decrees could no longer leave the palace walls.
At dusk, the Crown Prince held council in his residence as usual. The room was packed to the gills, forcing many officials to stand pressed flat against the walls. Yet none complained in the slightest. Being able to stand in this room signified a place in the new dynasty—a supreme honor.
Once all state matters had been deliberated, the Crown Prince suddenly said, "Royal Father has only three years of lifespan remaining. The court's systems are largely settled, and disorder will not arise. However, Consort Yuan remains abroad. This spring outing of hers has stretched all the way into winter."
A civil official immediately chimed in, "We ought to petition His Majesty to issue an edict recalling Consort Yuan to the capital at once."
A faint, unreadable glimmer of heat flashed in the depths of the Crown Prince's eyes. "Prince Chu's safety is also paramount. We must petition Royal Father to issue a separate decree commanding Wei Yuan to ensure Prince Chu's protection and see him safely returned to the capital."
"Understood, Your High—no, Your Majesty." The civil official adjusted his address with lightning speed.
The Crown Prince gave a slight nod and moved on to the next matter, leaving Prince Fu entirely forgotten.
"Prince Ying has urgently requested military resupply, particularly heavy armor for his infantry, and specifically demanded breastplates produced by Qingming. What do my ministers think of this?"
The Right Prime Minister, who oversaw military affairs, spoke up: "This concerns the life and death of our realm. Although Prince Ying has steadfastly refused to declare his allegiance to you, we must not tie his hands in this matter. This subject believes we should fulfill the request without delay. Procedural formalities can be deferred; let us draw hard currency directly to purchase the breastplates from Qingming and dispatch them north immediately."
The Minister of War, bearing a fresh face, countered, "Breastplates are mere mortal gear, neither rare nor precious. Where under heaven can they not be found? Why must we procure them from Qingming? Wei Yuan harbors wild ambitions that are bound to erupt sooner or later. Buying armor from him will only make him more intractable! This must not be done!
"This subject believes we should procure them domestically. There are so many workshops, over two hundred registered under the Ministry of War alone. That is more than enough."
The Right Prime Minister's face darkened. "Prince Ying wants fifty thousand sets! Relying on those iron-smelting foundries of yours, when will they ever finish? Next year, or the year after? By then, the Liao barbarians will already be pounding at the capital's gates!"
The Minister of War stood his ground without a trace of fear. "If we cannot finish them, could Wei Yuan? It will end up the same either way!"
This newly appointed Minister of War spoke with remarkable arrogance, yet the Crown Prince surprisingly remained silent. The Right Prime Minister turned purple with rage but was powerless to intervene. The man's surname was Yuan, and he had married a direct-line daughter of the Lu clan's immortal ancestor. Standing here, he represented the Lu clan.
Ultimately, the Crown Prince decreed, "Let us do this: purchase ten thousand sets from Qingming on an emergency basis, and have the Ministry of War manufacture the remaining forty thousand. The required immortal silver shall be disbursed entirely by the Ministry of Revenue."
The Minister of Revenue's expression soured considerably, and he glared fiercely at the Minister of War. Hailing from the Xu family, he had no need to bow to the Lu clan. He spoke up, "Your High—Your Majesty, the state treasury is empty. Might we purchase more from Qingming?"
A set of breastplates bought from Qingming cost twenty taels of immortal silver. Domestically in Western Jin, the market procurement price was twenty-five taels, yet the quality fell short of Qingming's. If ordered from the Ministry of War's affiliated workshops, not only was the asking price fifty taels, but the quality was the absolute worst.
The Crown Prince hesitated briefly before concluding, "The matter is settled. There is no need for further discussion."
***
In Qingming, inside a newly built hall beneath the main peak, Xu Wenwu stood upon a platform. As he manifested various illusions, he lectured with spittle flying in all directions.
Seated below were cultivators from the Palace of Grand Beginning, alongside a cohort of senior military commanders.
The topic of Xu Wenwu's lecture was *War as I Envision It*. He delivered an extravagant, dazzling performance, yet the audience below gave only a lukewarm response.
When Xu Wenwu finally finished, the applause was sparse and hesitant. Fortunately, several Dao Foundation cultivators managing the hall used their dharmic powers to conjure a shower of celestial blossoms, accompanied by melodious celestial tunes and dancing celestial maidens and youths, keeping the atmosphere reasonably lively.
Wei Yuan and Yu Zhizhuo walked out of the hall together. Yu Zhizhuo sighed, "Old Xu has fewer fresh ideas by the day. His imagination is utterly bankrupt! You need to keep an eye on him and push him to cultivate faster instead of having hot pot with that old Daoist Chuhe all day long. Look at him—his belly has grown another round! How could he have any imagination like that?"
Wei Yuan was baffled. "What does him getting fat have to do with imagination?"
"When a man gets fat, he doesn't want to move. The same goes for his brain."
Wei Yuan thought that actually made a bit of sense.
Yu Zhizhuo continued, "Once he condenses a dharma idol, he'll grasp Scenery Command to some degree, and maybe then he'll come up with new tricks. As for right now, the few gadgets I'm researching in my lab are far wilder than anything he's dreaming up."
Wei Yuan's interest was piqued. "Splendid. When I have time, I'll drop by to take a look."
"They're still on paper for now, but theoretically they've been proven feasible, and they'll be manufactured soon enough. Oh, right, when are you heading out to wage war? If you don't fight soon, the earliest batch of flying swords in the storehouse is about to expire."
Wei Yuan felt an immediate headache. Right now, all the cultivators from the Palace of Grand Beginning throughout Qingming were badgering him to go to war, each brandishing their own reasons.
Xu Henshui needed to sell pills; Sun Yu's pretty disciples needed to practice their medical arts; Perfected Chuhe's adoptive fathers needed to stretch their limbs; and on and on it went.
At present, the greatest driving force pushing Qingming toward war was these very war-related industries.
Chapter 668