Chapter Eighty: The Road Ahead

Page 1/3

Pingshan lies to the south of Fuchang. Though called a mountain, it is neither particularly tall nor steep. Wei Renshi led Shi Laoda and a few others towards it, and along the way they encountered several people carrying baskets, heading to gather coal.

“Young master, if you want coal, let us fetch it for you. There’s no need for you to come all the way yourself,” Shi Laoda said to Wei Renshi.

“It’s different,” Wei Renshi shook his head, smiling. “I’m not simply looking for a few lumps of coal to take home and burn.”

“Then why do you want coal, young master?” Shi Laoda asked curiously.

“To burn,” Wei Renshi replied with a smile.

Shi Laoda opened his mouth, but was at a loss for words.

Wei Renshi laughed again. “My way of burning coal is not quite the same as the ordinary one. You'll understand in time.”

Unable to comprehend, the group ceased their questions and followed Wei Renshi to the foot of Pingshan.

From afar, the mountain took on a dark hue, like the head of a giant tiger crouched here. The first thing to catch the eye was a temple. Around it, the stone cliffs were riddled with numerous caves, each filled with countless Buddha statues—likely numbering in the thousands.

Wei Renshi had heard of the Tiger Head Temple here, where since the Northern Wei, people had carved caves and statues. This must be the place.

The temple was crowded with worshippers burning incense and praying. Wei Renshi passed by the entrance, went in to offer incense, then left, circling around to the back.

The farther he ventured, the more black traces he saw on the ground, and Wei Renshi’s heart grew glad. This indicated that the coal seams were not deep, and could be mined in the open.

Following the path, Wei Renshi saw chunks of coal discarded by the roadside; some rocks protruded, and at the spots closest to the soil, black coal powder was clearly visible.

“Uncle Shi, take everyone and spread out. Fan out further and dig at random spots; see how deep you have to go before you hit coal,” Wei Renshi instructed Shi Laoda and the others.

They dispersed, while Wei Renshi wandered through Pingshan.

Page 2/3

Coal was plentiful in Pingshan, easy to find. Some even lay exposed; those gathering coal here rarely needed to dig, picking up many lumps along their way as they collected mountain goods.

Wei Renshi roamed about, feeling increasingly pleased. Judging by the surroundings, mining here would not be difficult, and a large amount could be extracted without sinking shafts.

But just as Jiao Haiqing had said, with Wei Renshi’s current resources, he could not support thousands in food, lodging, and wages. Buying the entire mountain was out of the question; he could only purchase a plot and begin mining, and even the number of coal stoves he could produce would have to be limited.

The greatest fear was that after buying a plot and mining coal, once the benefits became clear and coal stoves started selling, someone with greater wealth, stronger backing, or even the authorities themselves would step in and seize the rest.

As for the recipe for honeycomb coal and the method of making coal stoves, it would all come down to a single word from the government. With one command—or a slight pressure from someone with powerful connections—he would have to surrender both the formula and the technique.

Resistance was futile.

Not only in this era; even in later times, if one’s own backing was weaker than the opponent’s, one’s own patron less influential, the outcome would still be to labor for another’s benefit.

Only with sufficient strength and influence could one protect oneself in this society.

Should he write a letter to Liu Yuxi, telling him about the honeycomb coal and the stoves?

Wei Renshi pondered.

According to the historical timeline, Liu Yuxi would not remain as registrar in Weinan for long—less than a year, perhaps—before being promoted to Censor and sent to serve at the Censorate. There, he would meet Han Yu, and also the other members of the “Two Wangs and Eight Sima” group.

Rare is the chance to return to the Tang Dynasty; who wouldn’t harbor some ambition?

Nations perish from weakness, but the Han and Tang fell from strength. Their demise is too regrettable, too weighty, evoking sighs from generations, inspiring endless reminiscence.

Tang’s influence was immense; even after its fall, it continued to shape the world. In the Song era, “Tang” became the name by which southeastern nations referred to China. Through Song, Yuan, and Ming, across the world—especially Southeast Asia—anything Chinese or related to China was called “Tang.” Not only was “Tang” a synonym for the land of China, but Chinese people were called “Tang people,” Chinese surnames “Tang surnames,” Chinese clothing “Tang garments,” Chinese merchant ships “Tang vessels” or “Tang boats,” and Chinese goods traded from ships were known as “Tang goods.” Even the language now called “Mandarin” was referred to by overseas nations as “Tang speech” during the Song. Chinese who stayed abroad for more than a year were called “residents of foreign lands,” while foreigners in China for over a year were called “residents of Tang.” This tradition persists; some overseas Chinese still call themselves “Tang people,” and their communities “Tang streets”—Chinatowns—lasting a thousand years, unbroken.

Such strength, such far-reaching influence.

Page 3/3

He wondered if his arrival could make a difference on this timeline—if, using advanced ideas and technologies brought from the future, he could shore up the crumbling edifice, recast an everlasting Tang, and let this flourishing endure until the end of the earth.

To possess insights and knowledge twelve centuries ahead, yet fail to aid the Tang that lives in every Chinese heart—allowing it to decline and perish as history dictates, letting the people suffer unchanged—how could he accept that?

Moreover, striving for personal strength and influence does not conflict with lifting up the Tang Dynasty.

The “Two Wangs and Eight Sima” group offers the best entry point for Wei Renshi under current conditions.

First, the group strives for innovation and reform, which is a sound starting point.

Second, they are close to the centers of power, and their core members are deeply trusted by the Crown Prince.

Third, the group’s leaders lack a clear grasp of the situation.

If given the chance, Wei Renshi would first advise them to learn patience, to use present advantages to build for the future. They should not bet everything on the Crown Prince, but, while enjoying his trust, should seize the moment to establish good relations with the heir apparent.

Historically, these men, when Emperor Shunzong suffered a stroke and ascended the throne, tried to use his incapacity and their trust to control the government and enact reforms, yet failed to forge strong ties with Prince Li Chun. Overly idealistic and overestimating their own abilities, they ended up being swept aside by vested interests who supported Li Chun, forcing the stroke-stricken Shunzong to abdicate. The Yongzhen Reform became a farce.

The Yongzhen Reform was a worthy cause, but carried out by people too idealistic, at the wrong time, in the wrong way, with the wrong means—it turned into a spectacle.

But that is a matter for the future. If given the opportunity, Wei Renshi would offer counsel. If they listen, the cause is promising; if not, he can still achieve his own aims. As for reform, it must be considered in the long term.

For now, the question is whether, through Liu Yuxi, he can reach the “Two Wangs,” then through them, the Crown Prince Li Song, and at last, through Li Song, the heir apparent Li Chun.

If so, the future holds great possibilities!

Li Chun is the one on whom he should place his bet.

(Asking for recommendations and favorites, friends! Old Shi rarely asks for votes—if you have some, please spare a few for Old Shi’s book!)